Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Joel has never been so glad to watch someone vomit in his life.

“Thank you, God. Thank you,” Joel mutters, bending over Ellie. “That’s it, baby, that’s it. Get it up. You’re okay, just get it all up.”

Ellie’s eyelids flutter weakly for a moment before she heaves again, her body spasming as she expels more dirty water. He sweeps her hair back with one hand, the other keeping her firmly on her side, head tilted to prevent her from choking. All that matters is that she’s alive, chest heaving in between each painful retch.

“You’re okay, you’re okay. God, baby, you’re okay,” he repeats breathlessly, unable to stop the reassurances flowing from his lips. His heart pounds in his chest, the fear of losing her still strangling him.

Ellie’s coughing fit subsides, replaced by ragged, shallow inhales. As her brow furrows, her eyes open slightly, unfocused and glassy. “J-Joel?” she manages to croak, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m here, baby, I got you,” Joel replies, his voice sticking in his throat. He gently elevates her to rest against his chest. “You’re okay now, you’re okay. Just breathe.”

Ellie nods weakly, her head lolling against his shoulder. She shivers violently, her sodden clothes clinging to her small frame. “Gotta get you out of this water,” he mutters, scanning their surroundings. There’s a patch of sunlight ahead that has to be better than where they are. “Let’s get you up now.”

Joel carefully shifts his weight as he positions Ellie’s arms around his neck, preparing to lift her. “Alright, kiddo, we’re gonna take this slow. Let me do the work.”

With a feeble, teeth-chattering nod, she clasps her hands together. Joel eases them to stand, keeping a firm grip on her waist as she sways unsteadily. Her legs tremble beneath her, threatening to give way at any moment. Should she even be standing?

Joel stoops, carefully scooping Ellie into his arms. “Got you,” Joel says lowly, attempting to keep his voice steady. He’s shaking nearly as hard as Ellie is, the adrenaline crash hitting hard. “One step at a time.”

Unwilling to encounter any tripping hazards concealed beneath the shallow water, Joel moves at a painfully slow pace. He whispers to her, a non-stop combination of you’re okay, I’m here, and I got you. The patch of sunlight seems impossibly far away, but he focuses on it like a lifeline.

Ellie starts to cough violently, nearly toppling out of Joel’s arms before he tightens his grip. “Whoa, easy now. I gotcha.”

“S-sorry,” Ellie mumbles through chattering teeth. “So… tired…”

“I know, baby, I know. We’re almost there. Just a little further.”

As they near the sunlit area, Joel looks around, trying to gauge if there’s anything softer than concrete for Ellie to rest on. “Alright, alright, just a few more steps, and then we’ll get you dry,” he promises. By the time he lowers her to the ground and props her against the wall, she’s barely conscious.

“Ellie,” he implores, “C’mon now, eyes open. You gotta stay awake.”

She coughs weakly, turning toward him as she tries to focus. His heart races as he gently pats her cheek. “Stay with me, kiddo. You can do it.”

He quickly removes Ellie’s backpack and shrugs off his own, fumbling with the zipper. With shaking hands, Joel pulls dry clothes from her pack and a threadbare towel from his, immensely grateful for the resealable bags they’d found somewhere in Nebraska.

“Gotta get you out of these wet clothes,” he says, his voice gruff with worry. “Ain’t time for modesty, baby. I’ll help you. Can you lift your arms for me?”

“J-Joel,” Ellie mumbles, her teeth still chatting. “What… happened?”

Joel swallows hard against the flashes of blue-purple lips and a too-still chest making it nearly impossible to think. “You fell in, baby. But you’re okay now. I got you.”

Ellie manages a feeble nod, raising her arms slightly. Joel peels off her soaked shirts as gently as possible, then wraps the towel tightly around her trembling form. He rubs her biceps vigorously, trying to generate some warmth. “Can you manage your bra, kiddo? Don’t want that soakin’ through the dry stuff.”

He moves to pull her close, freezing before he manages; his clothes are just as soaked. “Ellie,” he repeats gently when she doesn’t respond, “can you get your bra off? The towel will cover you; I won’t see nothin’.”

“I’ll try,” she croaks, bending forward when another coughing fit hits.

“Atta girl,” Joel murmurs as he touches the top of her head. “I’m goin’ to change just behind there.” He points to a car a few feet away. “Think you can manage bangin’ your canteen when you’re ready me to come back?”

“Come back?” Ellie’s awareness is waning; it seems like she’s barely clinging to consciousness. “Don’t go.”

She coughs so hard he can see her ribcage contract, the sound wet and harsh. Droplets fly from her mouth; he can’t tell if it’s spit or if it’s more water, still pooled and deadly in her lungs.

To hell with it. The hospital isn’t far — he can see it just over the wall. “Change of plan,” he whispers, easing the towel off and wrapping Ellie in two of his shirts instead. “I’ll carry you, get you to them Firefly doctors real fast, yeah? They’ll have you feelin’ better in no time.” He’s not exactly in control of what’s coming out of his mouth. Rambling is about the best he can hope for right now.

The Fireflies better fucking be there.

He carefully gets Ellie to her feet and swings her into his arms. Adrenaline spikes anew when her head lolls off his shoulder. “C’mon, kiddo, need you to stay awake,” he pleads, moving as fast as he dares with such precious cargo. “Please, baby, just stay with me. Know you can do it.”

As he crests the driveway, relief floods his veins at the sight of several people with guns guarding the hospital.

Finally, a little luck.

The guards all tense when they see him, weapons trained directly at him and Ellie. It’s an all-too-familiar scene, but it’s one he can change the outcome of.

“I’m Joel Miller, this is Ellie. Marlene sent us from Boston,” Joel shouts, looking down at Ellie when a moan turns into a violent coughing fit. “Please, she needs a doctor.”

The Firefly closest to him lowers his weapon and waves the others down as well. “Don’t move,” he orders before speaking into his radio. Joel can’t hear what he’s saying, but the lack of guns pointed at him and Ellie is reassuring. After a moment, the man’s shoulders relax slightly. “Marlene’s on her way down. Says you should meet her in the lobby.”

Joel nods curtly, following him into the building as he keeps up a steady stream of chatter to Ellie, who seems to be slipping between semi-conscious and unconscious. “We found them, baby,” he murmurs, adjusting his grip until her head is pillowed against his shoulder. “Get you fixed right up.”

“What happened?”

Joel turns at the sound of Marelene’s voice, mindful of the girl in his arms. “We got caught in the water ‘bout twenty minutes ago. She drowned,” he explains, starting toward her. “There’s still water in her lungs. She needs a doctor.”

Marlene’s eyes widen, her gaze darting between Joel and Ellie. “Follow me,” she commands, already turning on her heel as she speaks into the radio on her shoulder. “Medical team will meet us on six.”

Joel’s heart races as he hurries after Marlene, who leads them to an elevator, waiting until the doors close to speak. “When you didn’t arrive…”

Ellie coughs weakly, her head heavy against his shoulder. “Joel?” she breathes.

“Right here,” he assures her, squeezing gently. “You’ll be alright.”

“Who—” More coughing, stronger this time. He has to lean back against the wall to keep his grip on Ellie. Marlene moves to brace them both.

“Marlene, kiddo. You were right; they are here.”

Ellie tries to open her eyes but fails, a small frustrated sound coming from her throat. “Made… it?”

“Sure did,” he murmurs, tilting his head until he can see her clearly. “Gonna get you checked out now. You’ll be okay.”

The elevator stops, and Joel follows Marlene down blue-painted hallways until they reach a large Pediatrics sign. She holds the door for them and he passes through, wincing when Ellie starts coughing once again. When the fit doesn’t stop after a minute, Marlene jogs ahead, presumably to find help.

A moment later, a woman in scrubs approaches, her eyes sharp and concerned. “I’m Martie. Bring her through here.” She leads them past darkened doors to the one room brightly illuminated at the end of the hall. “Put her on the table,” she instructs, gesturing to the exam table.

Joel hesitates, his arms instinctively tightening around Ellie. The thought of putting her down even for a moment sends a spike of panic through him, but Ellie’s ragged, choked panting snaps him back to reality. With great reluctance, he lays Ellie on the table, wincing at the wet patches along her side. She hasn’t stopped shivering since he pulled her out of the water. Being wet isn’t helping.

Ellie’s eyes flutter open, unfocused and confused. “Joel?” she mumbles, her hand sliding across the table in search of him.

“Right here, kiddo,” he promises, capturing her hand to intertwine their fingers. “These folks are goin’ to help you. You’ll be just fine.”

She scrunches her face tight, sighing when she doesn’t manage to focus. “Don’… leave.”

“Ain’t goin’ nowhere without ya,” Joel reminds her, squeezing her hand.

The woman moves swiftly, deftly checking Ellie’s vitals and assessing her for injuries. “How long was she under?”

Joel swallows hard, the memory of Ellie’s lifeless body searing through his mind. “Not… not sure exactly. In the water… maybe a minute? Took, uh… took a few minutes to get her breathin’ again. She’s been coughin’ up water since. Real weak an’ confused.”

Martie nods, her brow furrowed in concentration as she listens to Ellie’s chest, her frown deepening. “I’m going to get her started on oxygen and antibiotics now. We’ll do bloodwork, some scans to make sure there’s no lasting damage,” she explains, moving confidently around the room as she gathers the necessary items.

“What, uh…” Joel trails off, unsure how to word his question. “I mean, what… problems… are we lookin’ at?”

“The biggest risks right now are secondary drowning and pneumonia,” Martie explains as she hooks Ellie up to an oxygen mask. “We’ll monitor her closely.”

Ellie stirs at the touch of unfamiliar plastic, her fingers curling around Joel’s. “What…”

Joel leans in, carefully untangling Ellie’s hair from the mask strap. “Doc’s takin’ real good care of ya,” he explains gently before looking up. “Her clothes—”

“Marlene went to get a gown and additional blankets,” she says quietly, unearthing Ellie’s arm from Joel’s shirts to insert an IV.

With a nod, Joel turns his attention back to Ellie. She seems to be drifting in and out of consciousness, her grip on his hand tightening when she can manage it. He keeps his hand firmly clasped around hers, his thumb tracking slowly over her knuckles.

Marlene returns with an armful of supplies, her expression somewhere between frustration and concern. “How is she?”

“Stable,” Martie replies as she hooks up an IV bag. “We need to get her changed and warmed up.”

Joel hesitates, torn between respecting Ellie’s privacy and satiating his lingering panic. Marlene seems to sense his dilemma. “We’ve got this, Joel. There’s a bathroom just down the hall; get yourself dried off.”

With a hesitant nod, Joel bends down to murmur in Ellie’s ear. “Marlene’s gonna get you changed, kiddo. I’ll be right back.” She doesn’t respond, her eyes closed and her breathing shallow under the oxygen mask.

In the bathroom, Joel grabs a towel and strips off his wet clothes with shaking hands. As he dries off, he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror — pale and exhausted with a wild look in his eyes. He splashes cold water on his face in an attempt to steady himself. Ellie needs him sharp.

When he returns to the room, Ellie is propped up, wrapped in blankets with wires and tubes snaking out from beneath. Her wet clothes are tossed over a chair in the corner. As Joel approaches, her eyes slide open. “Okay?” she rasps with a wince.

She’s too damn concerned about other people. He moves quickly to her side, carefully moving the blankets until he finds her hand. “I’m okay,” he promises with a squeeze. “How’re you feelin’?”

Ellie’s brow furrows as she tries to focus on him. “Tired,” she mumbles, blinking rapidly. “Chest… hurts.”

“That’s normal,” Martie interjects gently, adjusting something on one of the monitors. “Your body’s been through a lot, Ellie. The oxygen and medication will help.”

Joel nods gratefully, his thumb resuming its gentle path across Ellie’s knuckles. “All you gotta do now is rest,” he murmurs.

Ellie’s eyes drift closed again, but her grip on Joel’s hand doesn’t falter. He watches the rise and fall of her chest, each one a reminder that she’s alive.

“Joel,” Marlene softly calls from the doorway. “We need to talk.”

He tenses at Marlene’s voice suddenly cold tone. “It can wait,” he grunts, turning his back to her.

“No,” Marlene says, leaving no room for argument. “It’s important.”

Martie steps in, her expression sympathetic. “I’ll stay with her. She’s stable now, and I’ll radio immediately if anything changes.”

With a heavy sigh, Joel extricates his hand from Ellie’s, gingerly adjusting the blankets until she’s fully covered. He trails after Marlene but makes no attempt to follow her down the hallway. “She ain’t leavin’ my sight,” he says tersely, angling himself so he can see Ellie, Marlene, and two of the three points of entry to the corridor.

Marlene stops in her tracks, her posture stiffening. “You don’t have to worry about her anymore.”

“I worry.”

When Ellie starts coughing, the sound loud enough to carry through the door, Joel strides back into the room without a second glance at Marlene. The girl glances up just long enough to confirm it’s him before grabbing his arm, her fingernails digging into his skin. He immediately rests his hand on her back, ducking to whisper directly in her ear: “You’re okay; just gotta get it out.”

Joel rubs Ellie’s back as she coughs, awkwardly bent over to murmur reassurances into her ear. When the fit finally subsides, she’s leaning heavily against him, head limply hanging forward. Joel carefully eases her back against the pillows, petting her hair once he’s sure she’s in a comfortable position. When Martie hands him a damp cloth, Joel wipes Ellie’s face, carefully removing grime and tears.

“How we doin’?” he asks softly when her eyes flutter open.

“Hurts,” she wheezes, eyes slipping closed again.

“I know, kiddo, I know,” Joel soothes, brushing her hair back from her forehead. He looks up at Martie, his expression questioning.

She nods reassuringly. “This is normal. Her body’s trying to expel the remaining water. It’s a good sign, actually.”

Joel nods, but his worry doesn’t ease. He turns back to Ellie, who’s struggling to remain awake. “Hey now,” he whispers, cupping her cheek with one hand while the other remains tangled with hers. “Just rest, kiddo. I ain’t goin’ nowhere. Be right here with ya, promise.”

She squeezes his hand weakly, drifting off to sleep as he watches. Marlene clears her throat from the doorway, gesturing to the hall once more.

“What is so goddamn important?” he demands harshly. Before Marlene can respond, Joel continues: “You got somethin’ to say, you damn well better say it in here. I ain’t leavin’ her side.”

Marlene’s jaw tightens, her eyes flicking between Joel and Ellie. She steps fully into the room, gesturing for Martie to leave before closing the door. “Fine. We’ll talk in here.”

Joel keeps Ellie’s hand clasped tightly in his, his other one resting on the top of her head. When Marlene remains silent, Joel fixes her with a hard stare. “Talk.”

“The drowning… complicates things,” Marlene begins, her voice low. “We need to run additional tests, make sure there’s no permanent damage.”

“Of course,” Joel nods. “Whatever she needs.”

“We’ll have to delay the surgery for several days until we confirm—”

Joel straightens, fury suddenly blazing to life in his chest. “What surgery?”

The way Marlene’s eyes flash with hesitation sets every fiber of his being vibrating with alarm. “Our doctor… he believes the cordyceps in Ellie has grown with her since birth.”

Joel raises his eyebrows, not speaking. When Marlene doesn’t continue, he squares his shoulders. “That don’t explain the surgery.”

“The cordyceps in her — it produces a kind of chemical messenger that makes normal cordyceps think she’s cordyceps. He believes that’s why she’s immune. He’s going to remove it from her, attempt to replicate the chemical messengers, and we’ll be able to give it to everyone. He thinks it could be more than a vaccine, Joel. He thinks it could be a cure.”

Joel shakes his head, grip on Ellie’s hand tightening as he runs his thumb over her knuckles. “Remove the— Cordyceps grows inside the brain.”

The way Marlene stalls has Joel ready to wrap Ellie in as many blankets as he can get his hands on, steal a truck, and get her the fuck out of here. Jackson should be less than a day’s drive; if he can manage to snag an oxygen canister, she’ll be able to make the trip. The Jackson infirmary is well equipped; Maria seemed particularly proud of how advanced it was.

“It does.”

He stares at her, uncomprehending for a moment before shaking his head. “You know how damn ridiculous you sound right now? He believes, he thinks, he’s going to attempt… He don’t have a fuckin’ clue. Y’all ain’t even drawn her blood yet, and you’re—”

Marlene stands firm, her gaze hardening as she takes in his reticence. “This isn’t about me. Or even her. I have no other choice here.”

“I do,” he growls, looking down when Ellie stirs, her face scrunching as she rolls her head toward him. “Sorry, kiddo,” he murmurs, shooting Marlene another glare. “You go on back to sleep.”

Ellie’s fingers twitch in his as she opens her eyes. “Asshole voice,” she rasps.

Joel angles himself to block Marlene from view. “Just makin’ sure you get all the right care. How’s that pain?”

Before she can answer, another coughing fit has Ellie bending forward as her body convulses painfully. Joel leans in close, slotting one arm in front of her chest to keep her upright and rubbing her back with his free hand. “Easy, baby, easy. S’okay, you’re alright.”

When the coughing subsides, Joel helps Ellie lie back, capturing her hand once again before turning back to Marlene. “Get out. She don’t need your bullshit right now.”

Marlene’s jaw clenches, her eyes flashing with frustration. “You don’t understand—”

“I understand just fine,” Joel growls dangerously. “You ain’t touchin’ her brain. End of discussion.”

Ellie whines softly, her brow furrowing as she tries to focus on the conversation. “Wha’s… goin’ on?” she slurs.

Joel smoothes her hair back, his touch gentle as he ducks to be in her eyeline. “Nothin’ for you to worry about, baby.” He lets his hand rest on her head, stroking his thumb over her hairline.

Marlene takes a step forward, her voice taking on an edge of detachment. “Joel, please. This could be our chance to save all of humanity. Sacrificing—”

“Sacrificing a child who wouldn’t have been allowed to consent to somethin’ like this before the Outbreak ain’t savin’ humanity. It’s doomin’ it,” Joel snaps, his body angling further to shield Ellie from Marlene’s view. “She almost died today. She needs time to heal.”

“And she’ll get it,” Marlene insists. “We’ll run tests, make sure she’s stable, but once she’s cleared—”

Joel’s eyes narrow dangerously. “Did you explain any of this to Ellie before you chained her up in that room an’ filled her head with your you’ll-save-the-world bullshit?”

Marlene stiffens, her eyes darting to Ellie’s feet. “Of course. She knows the risks—”

“That’s fuckin’ bullshit. You know what Ellie thinks is goin’ to happen here?” Joel interrupts, his tone turning dangerous. “She thinks your doctor is goin’ to draw her blood and make your little cure outta that.”

Marlene’s expression falters, a flicker of guilt crossing her features before she steels herself again. “The details weren’t… necessary at the time. She understands the importance of what we’re doing here.”

“She didn’t know you wanted her out here to die,” he argues, turning Ellie’s hand over to rub her palm. “You lied to her. To both of us.”

“I did what was necessary,” Marlene insists, her voice strained. “For the greater good.”

“The greater good,” Joel scoffs, shaking his head. “You ain’t got a clue if that’ll even work. You’re willin’ to kill the only immune person you’ve come across on a goddamn hunch.”

Ellie stirs again, closing her fingers around Joel’s thumb. “’S about me,” she mumbles, trying to focus on him. “What’re you… mad for?”

Joel ducks into her eyeline again, sliding his hand down to cup her cheek. “I’ll explain when you’re feelin’ better, baby.”

“Ellie,” Marlene interrupts, moving so she’s visible to the girl.

Joel lays Ellie’s hand on the bed before taking two large steps into Marlene’s personal space. “That’s enough,” he growls. “She needs rest. You ain’t talkin’ to her about any of this right now.”

Marlene’s eyes narrow. “You don’t get to make that decision, Joel, This is—”

“She’s my responsibility,” he seethes. “You—”

“She’s not you’re responsibility anymore. This is bigger than—”

“You ain’t layin’ a goddamn finger on her, test results or no test results.”

“Joel?” Ellie’s weak voice cuts through the tension. “I don’t - understand wha’s - goin’ on.”

The sudden, strong wheeze to each breath has him back at Ellie’s side in an instant. He perches on the side of the mattress. “Get that doctor back in here,” he orders, lightly pressing his hand to the top of Ellie’s chest. “S’okay, you’re okay.”

“If I could just—”

“Get the fuckin’ doctor,” Joel snaps at Marlene without turning. “I know, baby, I know it hurts. Gettin’ you some help right now, just hang on a minute.”

His heart starts to race as he watches Ellie struggle for air. Her chest heaves with each labored inhale, tears rolling down her face as she looks at him with panicked eyes.

“Easy now, nice and slow,” he murmurs, bringing her hand to his chest as he takes slow, measured breaths. “You’re okay, just gotta slow it down. That’s it.”

The door bursts open as Martie rushes in, quickly assessing the situation. She moves to Ellie’s side, opposite Joel, and adjusts the oxygen flow.

“Ellie, I need you to try and breathe more deeply,” she instructs calmly. “I know it hurts, but it’s important.”

Joel keeps his hand on Ellie’s chest, anxiety ratcheting up with each painful inhale. “You’re doin’ great, kiddo. Just a little more.”

Martie listens to Ellie’s lungs with her stethoscope, her brow furrowed in concentration. After a moment, she straightens up. “I’m going to increase your pain medication, Ellie. It should help you breathe easier.”

“No.”

Joel whips around to glare at Marlene, eyes narrowing. “The fuck you mean, no?”

Marlene shakes her head, gesturing for the doctor to step away. “She needs to be alert for the tests,” Marlene explains flatly. “Martie can give her a mild pain reliever, but anything stronger could skew the results.”

“Your tests can wait. She’s weak, she’s confused, and she can barely breathe. Your tests aren’t going to mean a damn thing if you let her suffocate in front of you.”

Ellie wheezes painfully, her fingers tightening against Joel’s. “S’okay,” she manages between gasps. “Can… handle it.”

“You don’t have to, baby,” Joel says softly, brushing her hair back. He turns to the doctor, his voice low and dangerous. “You give her whatever she needs to breathe easy and be comfortable. I don’t give a damn about your tests.”

The doctor hesitates, glancing between Joel and Marlene. “I’m sorry, but we need accurate readings to assess—”

“To assess what?” Joel interrupts. “Whether she’s fit for your little science experiment? She ain’t. Give her the goddamn drugs.”

Marlene steps forward, her face set. “Joel, you don’t have the authority to make these decisions.”

“You gave me the authority to make these decisions when you put Ellie in my care.” Joel looks down at Ellie’s small hand encased at him, then up at the doctor in alarm. “Her fingers are blue.”

She adjusts the oxygen again before looking between Joel and Marlene. Finally, she shakes her head slightly, fixing Marlene with a serious look. “She needs pain medication and steroids. They’ll clear from her system in twenty-four hours, and they won’t affect the initial imaging.”

Joel’s grip on Ellie’s hand tightens as he watches the doctor prepare the medications. His jaw clenches, eyes darting between Ellie’s fight for enough air and Marlene’s stony expression. “This ain’t right,” he growls at Marlene. “You’re puttin’ her through hell for nothin’.”

Marlene’s face hardens. “For nothing? This could save humanity, Joel. It’s worth—“

“It ain’t worth her life,” Joel snaps, his voice low and dangerous. He turns back to Ellie as the doctor injects the medications into her IV.

“There we go, kiddo,” he murmurs, brushing the tears from Ellie’s face with his thumb. “Should start feelin’ better real soon.”

Ellie’s eyes flutter, struggling to focus on Joel’s face. “Don’t... fight,” she rasps between wheezes.

“Shh, don’t you worry ‘bout that,” Joel soothes. “Just concentrate on breathin’, alright?”

As the medications begin to take effect, Ellie’s labored gasping eases. The tight lines of pain around her eyes start to soften, and Joel feels some of the tension leave his own body. He continues to stroke her hair gently, watching as her eyelids grow heavy.

“That’s it, Ellie,” he murmurs. “Just rest now. I’ll be right here.”

Ellie manages a small nod before her eyes close completely, her breaths coming in a steady rhythm. Joel keeps his hand on her head, his thumb tracing small circles on her temple.

He turns to the doctor, keeping his voice low. “How long will she sleep?”

“A few hours, at least,” the doctor replies. “The combination of medications and her body’s need to recover should keep her under for a while.”

Joel nods, his eyes never leaving Ellie’s face. “And her breathing?”

“We’ll continue to monitor it closely,” the doctor assures him. “The steroids should help reduce any inflammation in her lungs, and hopefully the antibiotics will prevent secondary infections. If there are any changes, we’ll know immediately.”

“Thank you,” Joel says gruffly, surprising even himself with the sincerity in his voice.

As Marlene and the doctor argue in hushed tones, Joel focuses solely on the rise and fall of Ellie's chest. He came so close to losing her today, and now, knowing what the Fireflies have in store…

He needs to get her out of here. How can he do that without further endangering her life? When can he do it?

Joel keeps his vigil at Ellie’s bedside, his eyes never leaving her face as he listens to the steady beep of the monitors. His mind races, trying to formulate a plan to get them both out of this hospital safely. They can’t stay here, not with Marlene and her team hellbent on killing Ellie to attempt a cure.

A change in Ellie’s breathing snaps him back to the hospital room. Her face is scrunched up in discomfort, a small whimper escaping her lips. Joel leans forward, his hand finding hers.

“Ellie? You with me, kiddo?”

Her eyes flutter open, unfocused at first but gradually settling on his face. “Joel?” she croaks, her voice rough from sleep and lingering pain.

“Right here, baby,” he soothes, squeezing her hand. “How’re you feelin’?”

Ellie takes a moment to assess, her brow furrowing slightly. “Better,” she mumbles. “Not… as hard to breathe.”

Relief washes over Joel as he nods. “Good. That’s real good, kiddo.”

Her eyes dart around the room, confusion clouding her features. “What… happened? You were in the bus…”

“You fell in the water,” he explains gently. “Scared the hell outta me, but you’re okay now. We made it to the Fireflies.”

At the mention of the Fireflies, Ellie tries to sit up, stifling a cough and wincing as the movement pulls at her sore muscles. Joel quickly places a hand on her shoulder, easing her back down.

“None of that,” he murmurs. “No need to be rushin’ around. You need to rest.”

“But the cure,” Ellie protests weakly. “They need to—”

Joel’s jaw clenches, his hand tightening slightly on her shoulder. “That can wait, Ellie. Right now, you need to focus on gettin’ better. Gotta recover before they can do anything.”

Joel watches Ellie carefully as she processes his words. Her brow furrows, a mix of confusion and frustration crossing her face. “But... we came all this way,” she argues, her voice barely above a whisper. “I have to do this, Joel. It’s why we’re here.”

Joel’s heart clenches at the determination in her eyes, even as she struggles to keep them open. He takes a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. “I know, baby girl. But you nearly died today. Your body needs time to heal before we can even think about anythin’ else. The Fireflies ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

Ellie’s eyes narrow slightly, sensing there’s something Joel isn’t telling her. “What aren’t you saying?” she asks, her voice stronger now. “You’re using your lying voice.”

Joel sighs, running a hand over his face. He can’t bring himself to tell her the full truth - not yet, not when she’s still so weak. But he knows he can’t keep everything from her either.

“It… ain’t as simple as just takin’ your blood, Ellie,” he says slowly. “It’s more complicated. More dangerous. And what they’re tellin’ me — they ain’t sure they can make a cure.”

Ellie’s eyes widen, a flicker of fear crossing her face before she masks it with determination. “But they can try, right? We have to at least try.”

Joel’s heart aches at her unwavering resolve. He squeezes her hand gently. “Ellie, listen to me. What they’re proposin’... it ain’t just risky. It will kill you.”

“But if it works—” Ellie starts, her voice rising slightly before breaking into a cough.

Joel quickly helps her sit up, rubbing her back as she wheezes. “Easy now, easy,” he soothes. When the coughing subsides, he eases her back against the pillows.

“Ellie,” he says softly, meeting her gaze. “I know you want to help. But right now, you need to focus on feelin’ better. We can talk about this when you’re stronger.”

Ellie looks like she wants to argue, but exhaustion is taking its toll. Her eyelids droop as she fights to stay awake. “Promise?” she mumbles.

"I promise, kiddo. We'll talk about it when you're feelin' stronger. For now, just rest."

Ellie nods weakly, her eyes already closing. "Don't leave," she murmurs, her fingers tightening around Joel's.

“Ain't goin' nowhere," Joel assures her softly. He watches as she drifts off to sleep, her breathing evening out once more.

Once he's sure Ellie is asleep, Joel leans back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his face. The weight of everything that’s happened today settles heavily on his shoulders. He needs to get Ellie out of here, but how? She's still too weak to travel, and he has no idea how many Fireflies are in the hospital.

Christ, what a goddamn mess.

Chapter Text

In the week they’ve been here, they have subjected Ellie to four MRIs and performed more blood draws than he can count. After today’s imaging session, she crawled into bed and went right back to sleep.

She’s been sleeping an awful lot. Dr. Anderson assures him it’s normal, but Joel can’t help but worry.

So, he sits sentry, his mind blank as he watches Ellie breathe. A few hours later, a soft knock at the door startles him. “Sorry to interrupt,” Dr. Anderson says, shifting his weight. “We need to re-do the MRI. The images weren’t clear.”

Ellie groans as she sits up, looking between the doctor and Joel. “Do I have to?” she asks, exhaustion coloring her tone. “You already took, like, a million photos, man. That thing gives me a fucking headache.”

“Ellie hasn’t said no to a single one of your tests,” Joel reminds them as he gets to his feet and moves closer to the bed. “Can’t you use yesterday’s?”

Dr. Anderson regards Joel for a moment. “We need to keep daily records of the host’s brain.”

“Ellie.”

“Excuse me?”

“Her name’s Ellie.”

With a frown, Dr. Anderson tilts his head to the side in question.

“Ellie ain’t a host,” he growls, looking down when her finger makes contact with his jeans. “She’s a girl, and she’s right here. Best you remember that.”

“Joel,” Ellie murmurs, poking his leg. “It’s okay.”

He rests his palm on her head, thumb on her temple. “Ain’t okay to treat you like a lab rat.” He glares at the doctor before turning his full attention to Ellie as he presses the back of his hand to her forehead, then her cheek. “You’re awful warm, kiddo. You feelin’ worse?”

“Just tired. I’m—”

She’s cut off by a coughing fit, one that lasts longer than any previous one. Dr. Anderson hurries over, fitting an oxygen mask over Ellie’s face. Joel’s blood pressure skyrockets as he watches Ellie struggle to breathe. He grips her shoulder and allows her to cling to his other arm, steadying her as her muscles spasm beneath his hand. When it subsides, she slumps against him, pulling on his hand until he sits. He examines her as he brushes the hair from her eyes. She looks frail. Small.

“That’s it,” Joel says firmly. “No more tests today. She needs rest.”

Dr. Anderson shakes his head, his expression unreadable. “We can’t afford to lose time. Every day counts in understanding the immunity.”

Joel’s jaw clenches. He can feel Ellie trembling against him, her breath still ragged despite the oxygen. “You ain’t listenin’. She’s done for today.”

“Mr. Miller, I understand your concern, but—”

“If this was your daughter, would you let some doctor run tests that ain’t related to her condition — tests that cause her pain — without a fight? This ain’t about your research or your cure. This is about a sick girl who needs to recover.”

Dr. Anderson’s eyes narrow. “A sick girl who could save humanity. Surely you can see the bigger picture.”

Joel’s anger rises, hot and familiar. He’s about to respond when Ellie squeezes his hand. “I can do it.”

“I know you can, kiddo,” he soothes immediately, twining their fingers together. “But not today. They’ve gone this long without a cure; givin’ you time to recover ain’t gonna make a difference in the long run. And hey…” Joel ducks into her line of sight with a tiny smile just for her. “Ain’t you the one who told me science takes time? We’re just givin’ them a few extra hours with the last round of testin’.”

Ellie shakes her head tiredly, pressing her face into his shoulder. “It’s just laying there, but loud. I’ll do it.”

“Kiddo—”

“I’ll do it,” she repeats, her anger blunted by exhaustion.

Joel watches her for a moment before nodding just once. “Alright,” he murmurs, lightly touching her chin for a second to get her attention. “But we’re doin’ it my way.”

With an apathetic eye-roll, Ellie transfers more weight into him. “Whatever.”

Joel’s jaw tightens as he helps Ellie to sit unaided. “We’re doin’ this on our terms.” He tightens his shoulders, his face twitching into a comforting, dangerous expression. “I ain’t leavin’ her side, even when the machine’s goin’. And if Ellie says stop — for any reason — you’re done for the day. No questions asked.”

“Fine,” Dr. Anderson agrees flatly as he removes the mask from Ellie’s face. “Let’s go.”

With a sigh, Joel squeezes Ellie’s shoulder and grabs the scrubs he’s used for her other scans, quickly changing in the bathroom before returning to Ellie’s side. Ellie sways when she stands, grabbing for him when she stumbles forward. “I got you,” he murmurs, shooting a glare at Dr. Anderson. “You sure ‘bout this, kiddo?”

Ellie nods weakly, a light sheen of sweat dotting her brow. “Just… get it over with.”

They make their way down the hallway, Joel bracing Ellie with an arm around her waist and a hand at her elbow. Her breathing is still labored, which makes him want to scoop her up and tuck her right back into bed.

When they reach the MRI room, Joel helps Ellie onto the table. “Just gotta put my watch outside,” he murmurs into her ear. “Don’t lie down ’til I’m back.”

“Your watch?” she asks in confusion. “But—” her voice fades as he steps out of the room to lay his watch on the nearest counter. “—it off. I was talking to you, asshole.”

“Thought a fly was buzzin’ ‘round,” Joel grumbles as he steps up to Ellie. “Still time to go back to bed.”

Ellie whacks him with a uniquely teenage groan. “It’s just a loud nap.”

He grabs a blanket from a nurse he hadn’t noticed and drapes it over her as she lays back. “Alright, kiddo. I’ll be right here the whole time,” he assures her. “You say the word, and we’re done. For any reason.”

With one last reluctant squeeze, Joel releases his grip. He watches the technician as she adjusts Ellie’s position, each small grimace sending a spike of anger through him. When she’s settled, he leans over so she can see him through the head restraint. “You good?”

Ellie peels her eyes open to look up at him. “Yeah. Just… don’t go far?”

“You got it,” he assures her as he pulls a plastic chair over. When the bed slides into the machine, Joel settles right beside the opening and rests his hand on hers.

It whirs to life. The first round of knocking makes them both flinch, fingers tightening around each other. He sandwiches her hands between his. “Alright now. You got this.”

As the minutes tick by, suspicion creeps into Joel’s thoughts. If the Fireflies are this desperate... He switches his attention between Ellie and the technicians at the controls, watching for anything amiss.

Suddenly, Ellie’s hand twitches in his, the movement spreading up her arm. “Something’s wrong.” Ellie’s voice, slurred and terrified, echoes through the tube. Joel is out of the chair and hitting the emergency button in seconds. “S-something’s…”

Everything inside of Joel stops when Ellie’s entire body goes rigid. A few seconds later, she starts to convulse as the bed slides out of the machine. A terrible choking sound escapes her throat as her limbs begin to twitch wildly. And then he’s leaning over her, caging her in between his arms to prevent her from falling off the platform. “Get in here,” he roars as his brain kicks back into gear.

“You’re okay. You’re okay,” Joel chants, his voice cracking. “Please, baby, s’okay, you’re okay.” Her body flails, making it nearly impossible to keep her on the narrow bed without restraining her. The thing around her head — what if it hurts her? When the fucking medical staff finally arrives, they unstrap her. His heart feels like it’s being crushed from the inside when he sees foam bubbling at the corners of her mouth, tinged pink with blood.

Joel barely hears the chaos going on around them as he focuses on Ellie’s face. Her skin has taken on a gray tinge, her lips purple as she alternates between not breathing and gasping.

Helpless to do anything other than keep Ellie from falling, Joel lets his mouth run in case Ellie can hear him. It seems like hours before the convulsions slow to full-body twitches, then stop.

“God,” Joel mutters as the pallor on her face recedes, leaving Ellie ghost-white. He bends further to press his forehead to hers for a second. “Jesus, baby girl, you can’t scare me like this. C’mon back now, s’okay. You’re okay.”

Ellie remains alarmingly still, breathing in ragged, but regular, gasps. Someone fits an oxygen mask over her face. When the staff tries to push him aside, Joel growls and repositions himself up at Ellie’s head, hands shaking as he smoothes her hair down.

“Why ain’t she wakin’ up?” he demands when Ellie shows no signs of consciousness. “I’ve seen people have seizures. They always started wakin’ up by now.”

The medical staff exchange worried glances, but no one answers Joel’s question. Panic claws at his throat as he watches Ellie’s unmoving form, his hand finding hers and squeezing gently. There’s no response.

“Answer me, damn it!” Joel snarls, his voice echoing off the sterile walls.

Dr. Anderson pushes through the crowd, his face grim. “The recovery period is different for each person. We need to get her back to her room and run tests to determine the cause.”

“No tests.”

The doctor’s face hardens. “Mr. Miller, I understand you’re upset, but—”

“You understand nothin’,” Joel snarls. “You ain’t layin’ another finger on her ’til she’s conscious and says otherwise.”

Ellie moans softly, capturing Joel’s attention. “Ellie?” He tightens his grip on her hand as he cups her cheek. Her fingers curl around his, but she shows no other signs of waking. “Okay, baby,” he murmurs, running his thumb over her cheekbone. “Gonna pick you up, get ya back into bed.”

Joel removes the oxygen mask and sits her up, taking a second to press his nose to her hair before carefully lifting her into his arms. Another tiny moan escapes, her eyebrows twitching together. “I got you,” he promises, glaring at Dr. Anderson as he passes, daring him to object.

By the time they reach her room, Ellie seems to be nearer to consciousness. He lays her on the bed, replacing the oxygen and fussing with the blankets until she’s covered from the neck down. As he drags a chair over with his foot, Joel takes her hand again, dragging his thumb over her knuckles. “There we go,” he murmurs, the panic ebbing as she rolls her head toward him. She tries to say something — maybe his name — but it’s too garbled to understand.

“You’re okay, Ellie. I got you.” She whimpers quietly in response, the sound driving helplessness through his heart. “You’re hearin’ me, huh? That’s good, kiddo. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

Ellie’s breathing smooths out, and her face relaxes, hints of her usual color returning. “Atta girl,” he whispers, moving to sit on the edge of the bed where he can reach her face. “C’mon back now, baby. S’okay.”

Her eyes finally slide open, unfocused and glazed. “J-Joel?” she croaks, her voice almost inaudible.

“Right here, kiddo,” he soothes, brushing hair from her eyes. “How you feelin’?

Ellie swallows hard, wincing. “Head… hurts. Wha’ happened?”

With his hand on her cheek, Joel ducks until he’s directly in her line of sight. “You had a seizure. But you’re okay. ’S over.”

Christ, she’s so disoriented. For a moment, he’s thrown back to the terrible days after Silver Lake. The way she blinks, the way she moves… she’s in pain, trying to make sense of her surroundings and too damn stubborn to let the full price of her fear show. “Don’t remember.”

“S’alright,” Joel assures her, sliding his hand until he can rub slow circles on her temple. “You’re okay now, baby. I got you.”

Dr. Anderson clears his throat from the doorway, and Joel’s head snaps up, leaning to block Ellie from view. He takes a cautious step into the room. “We need to run some tests to determine the cause of the seizure.”

Joel shakes his head before the doctor finishes speaking. “I told you, no more tests today. She needs to recover without bein’ your personal pincushion.”

Dr. Anderson regards him for a moment before speaking again. “This morning’s blood tests and the MRI showed some concerning results; we need to re-run the labs.”

“Concernin’ how?” he demands, squaring his shoulders against a sudden wave of unease. Joel keeps Ellie’s hand firmly ensconced in his as he stands.

“The markers indicating the state of fungal infection are decreasing, and the MRI this morning indicated structural changes to the fungal growth on her brainstem.”

It feels like the floor is dropping out from under him as he processes the doctor’s words. “What does that mean?”

Dr. Anderson’s face remains impassive. “It’s possible the fungal infection is destabilizing. We need to run more tests to confirm, but if this continues, it could lead to neurological damage or even—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Joel growls, angling himself away for a moment to check on Ellie and steady the rage threatening to boil over. When Ellie catches sight of his face, she starts tugging at his hand. “I’m right here,” he promises, frowning when she doesn’t stop. “What do you want, baby?”

“Here,” she slurs pathetically, trying to slide over. Without hesitation, he eases onto the bed beside her, careful not to jostle her too much. As he stretches his legs out, Ellie curls on her side to press her face into his leg.

“Easy now,” he murmurs, adjusting her head to prevent the oxygen mask from digging into her face. “Does she need the mask, or can she use the nose one?”

A nurse approaches silently, eyeing Joel as if he’s about to take out his sidearm and shoot her. It’s a tempting option. At least most of the staff have the sense to be afraid of him. Once she’s swapped Ellie from the mask to the cannula, the nurse disappears.

“Don’t feel good,” Ellie whines into his leg. “Hurts.”

Joel presses his palm to her back, capturing her hand with the other. “I know, kiddo,” he murmurs before glaring at Dr. Anderson once again. “You got any pain meds that won’t mess with your precious tests?”

He hesitates, his eyes darting between Joel and Ellie. “We have some mild pain relievers that shouldn’t interfere.” He nods to the nurse behind him, then turns back to Joel. “Mr. Miller, I know you’re concerned, but we need to—”

“What you need to do,” Joel interrupts, eyes flashing with anger, “is give Ellie some goddamn peace. She’s been tested enough for one day. Do you even have the medication necessary to treat her if there’s somethin’ wrong with the cordyceps?”

Ellie tugs weakly at Joel’s hand. “S’okay,” she mumbles. “Should let them…”

Joel leans down, all but blocking the rest of the room from her view. “No, baby. You need to rest now. Whatever tests they want can wait.” When he brushes a strand of hair to the side, he frowns; her fever has increased.

“You listen to me,” he spits at Anderson. “I don’t give a damn about your tests or your cure. All I care about is her.” He nods towards Ellie. “So you’re gonna do whatever it takes to make her better before you so much as think about bringin’ up your goddamn tests. You understand me?”

Dr. Anderson’s jaw tightens. “Mr. Miller, Ellie’s condition is unprecedented. We’re doing our best—”

“Your best is fuckin’ useless,” Joel interrupts angrily. Before he can continue, Ellie whimpers, bringing her hand to her ear. “Sorry, baby.” Joel bends over her to whisper, “Sounds hurtin’?”

“Yeah,” she breathes, pressing her forehead further into his thigh. “An’ light.”

With a nod, Joel straightens, shooting daggers at Anderson. “I don’t want to see your goddamn face again today unless you’re comin’ in with medication to make Ellie more comfortable. Shut the lights on your way out.”

“Mr. Miller—”

“I said, shut the lights and get the hell out,” he repeats dangerously.

The doctor’s jaw tightens, but he nods and backs out of the room. The lights flick off, leaving only the dim glow from the monitors. Joel exhales, trying to release some of the tension coiled in his shoulders. When he looks down at Ellie, her face is pinched in pain, even in the dim light.

“How we doin’, kiddo?” he murmurs, running his fingers through her hair.

Ellie shifts, pressing her face into his leg. “Shitty.”

“I bet,” he commiserates. “Just try an’ rest. I’ll be right here.”

He allows himself to press his hand to her back as he continues stroking her hair. Helplessness comes to the forefront of his emotions when he realizes Ellie’s trembling. “Easy, baby, easy,” he whispers after a few minutes. “Know it hurts, but try takin’ a few deep breaths. Through your nose. Atta girl, that’s it.”

It’s been months since the endearment slipped from his mouth, but in the past few days, he finds it’s nearly impossible to restrain. Ellie’s been so… over the past few days. Needy in a way she’s never been. Even after… everything… her willingness to accept comfort was stunted by her desire to stay in control. There were times she sought reassurance — nights, usually, when she was too exhausted, too overwrought to handle the darkness on her own — but she was always ashamed about it. Since they got to the hospital, she’s been glued to him, practically demanding at least one point of contact whenever she’s awake. He’s never been an affectionate person, but when Sarah was born, all personal space went out the window.

He’s more than happy to get used to it again if it helps Ellie.

After a minute, she manages several deep breaths in a row without devolving into a coughing fit. A nurse slips in quietly, carrying a syringe. Joel tenses, ready to intervene, but she heads him off. “It’s like Tylenol,” she promises. “Should take the edge off and help the fever.”

He stares at her for a moment to gauge her sincerity before nodding, leaning forward to see Ellie’s face. “Nurse is givin’ you some medicine, kiddo.”

She mumbles something into his leg, nodding slightly.

“Alright,” he agrees, watching as the nurse swabs Ellie’s arm and gives her the medication. “How long until it takes effect?”

There’s a flash of something across the nurse’s face that has his shackles up. “What?” he demands, straightening as he protectively pulls Ellie closer. “What was that look for?”

“Nothing,” she says immediately. “We compound everything here, which means the time it takes to be effective can vary. This particular medication works within thirty minutes.”

“I thought you said you was givin’ her Tylenol?”

“It’s like Tylenol,” she retorts, tone turning snide. “And it’s all she can have, so unless you’d rather she go without…”

He needs to get Ellie the hell out of here.

“I’ll deal with this later,” he grumbles under his breath when Ellie starts to shift restlessly. “What’s wrong, kiddo?”

“My head hurts,” she mutters. “And my neck.”

She sounds like she’s near tears, which scares the hell out of him.

“Think it would help if I rubbed your neck a bit?” he asks quietly, sliding his hand up Ellie’s spine to the base of her skull, his touch light. “Get them muscles to quit their hollerin’?”

“Cowboy.” He’d pretend to be more offended if she didn’t sound so damn tired. “I dunno.” Ellie shifts, pushing herself up and twisting until her head is pillowed on his thigh, face buried into his stomach. “Try.”

“Yes, ma’am.” She always gets a kick out of that. Even now, she glances up at him wryly for a second before returning her face to his belly.

Joel starts with her head, lightly running his fingers through her hair a few times, mindful to avoid the tender spots where electrodes left raw patches. Ellie lets out a tiny sigh, her shoulders losing some of their tension.

“Helpin’?”

“Mm-hmm,” Ellie mumbles into his shirt. “Don’t stop.”

He continues his ministrations, working his way down to her neck, lifting his hand away the second she whimpers. “Sorry, baby. Too much?”

“Feels good.”

He resumes his gentle massage, his free hand running from Ellie’s hip to her shoulder. Her breathing evens out, and her body relaxes further against him. Hopefully, the medication is starting to take effect. When Ellie drifts off to sleep, he slows, then stops.

Christ, what a day. His entire body is coiled tight, ready to snap. Now that Ellie’s asleep and seemingly comfortable, he tries to process everything that’s happened. The seizure was terrifying enough, but Dr. Anderson’s concern about the fungus destabilizing has him on edge. He needs more information, but he doesn’t trust these people to give it to him.

There are limited options here, and none of them are good. He could take out the entire hospital if necessary. The Fireflies here are complacent, their patrols sloppy and erratic. Realistically, they’re stranded. Ellie’s weakened condition means they won’t be able to escape on foot. She’s light, too light, but there’s no way he can carry her from here to Wyoming.

Wyoming.

Tommy took him aside in Jackson and gave Joel the frequency, monitoring times, and rules for the town’s radio. As much as he’s desperately wanted to check in, let his brother know they’re alive, there hasn’t been an opportunity until now. The Fireflies have outposts in at least two remaining QZs; they must have a radio powerful enough to communicate with them. When Ellie is stronger, he’ll demand access to it. He’s sure she’ll enjoy the novelty of communicating with someone hundreds of miles away.

Ellie seems to be asleep, occasionally twitching or mumbling. He’s not sure how much time passes before someone comes in with dinner for them both — MREs Joel can choke down without a second thought, but Ellie isn’t likely to manage when she’s feeling sick. It won’t be an issue if she sleeps through the night, but if she wakes and is hungry…

He opens both packages and sorts through the contents, putting aside the items Ellie will most likely eat. Joel chooses the least appetizing options for himself, quickly downing the meal with one hand. She’s more relaxed when his hand rests at the base of her skull, rubbing idle patterns into her skin as time passes. There’s been no change in her temperature, but he can tell from her posture that some pain has ebbed away.

Eventually, the warmth of Ellie in his lap and days of stress and exhaustion catch up, leaving Joel struggling to stay awake. He allows himself to give in to his body’s demands; he’s a light sleeper, and with Ellie tucked against him, he should wake if anything is wrong. He’ll just have to hope for the best.

Chapter Text

For months, Joel’s legs protested the constant motion and abuse walking across the country brought. Now, they ache from lack of use as he spends his time tethered to Ellie.

They’re in what has become the usual position — Joel sitting in Ellie’s bed while she presses her face into the side of his thigh, his hand resting on her back. This morning’s round of testing drained her; she fell asleep during the MRI despite how loud the damn machine is.

Ellie grumbled several unkind comments about his age when he got up to use the bathroom earlier, but she was content to settle against him as soon as he returned. Now, his head is tipped back and his eyes are closed as he takes the opportunity to rest. When there’s a soft knock at the door, Joel startles, inhaling sharply as his eyes pop open.

A girl, maybe a little older than Ellie, stands in the doorway with an uncomfortable expression. “Uh… I can come back,” she says.

Ellie’s question at the university springs to mind — You think there’ll be other people my age? — so he waves her in. “She’ll stay sleepin’ if we’re quiet,” he whispers when the girl approaches.

The girl looks between Ellie and Joel a couple of times before meeting his eyes. “I’m Abby. Dr. Anderson’s daughter.”

He blinks. The doctor had mentioned a daughter, but Joel had put little thought into it beyond her existence. He can see the resemblance, particularly in the shade of her blonde hair. She’s wearing a worn polo shirt and cargo pants, the chain of her Firefly pendant just visible around her neck. No weapons, no tactical gear like the rest of the grunts wear. Abby might be too young to be a full-fledged member. As much as he’d like to keep Ellie insulated from all the Fireflies’ bullshit, she’ll enjoy having another kid to talk to. “Joel Miller.”

Abby nods as she focuses on the small part of Ellie she can see. “I just — my dad said Ellie’s been too sick to get up much, so I thought she might like something to read.” She holds out a tattered paperback with a small smile. “This is one of my favorites, but I have other ones if she’d like something different.”

Joel forces himself to relax, reminding himself that it’s not possible for every Firefly to be the enemy. This girl is just trying to help.

Or to gain their trust so she can betray them later on.

“That’s… mighty thoughtful of you,” he mumbles. He reaches out to take the book, careful not to disturb Ellie. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate it when she’s feelin’ better.”

With a nod, Abby fidgets with her thumbs and steps back. “Would it be alright if I came back another time? When Ellie’s awake, I mean. Marlene talks about her a lot, and I think we’d get along.”

He’s tempted to turn her down, but as he studies Abby’s face, there’s nothing but awkward sincerity. “What’s Marlene been sayin’?”

“I don’t get to be around when she and my dad talk about anything serious,” Abby admits. “But she told me Ellie’s funny and sarcastic. And that she likes to read, which is why…” The girl gestures at the book in Joel’s hand. “I never get to talk about books, especially with someone my age.”

“I bet,” he murmurs, glancing down when Ellie stirs against him. “I’ll have to talk to Ellie about it,” he hedges. “She ain’t been up to talkin’ much these past couple days.”

Abby nods, her shoulders slumping. “I understand. Um, I’m the youngest person here. Besides Ellie, I mean. So I thought I’d ask, in case…”

She trails off, and Joel feels a pang of sympathy. This girl is probably as eager for a friend as Ellie. But he can’t shake the nagging suspicion that this could be a ploy, a way for the Fireflies to sway Ellie into falling for their nonsense.

“I’ll let her know you stopped by,” Joel offers, his tone softening a fraction. “If, uh… if she’s feelin’ better, I can ask one of the nurses to let you know.”

Abby brightens, a small smile appearing as she says, “That would be great, thank you.”

As she turns to leave, Joel’s eyes flick to the Firefly pendant around her neck. “Abby?”

She pauses in the doorway, looking back at him expectantly.

“Just… remember that Ellie’s been through a lot, and she’s been real sick since we got here. She needs rest more than anything right now.”

Abby nods, her expression solemn. “I know.” With that, she slips out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Joel exhales, absently stroking Ellie’s back as he glances down at the book Abby left. To Kill a Mockingbird. The cover is worn, the pages yellowed with age. From what he can recall from the movie, he thinks Ellie will enjoy it.

Just then, Ellie stirs against him, her fingers curling into the fabric of his jeans. “Joel?” she mumbles.

“Right here, kiddo,” he whispers, setting the book aside. “You hurtin’?”

She nods against his leg, pressing closer. “My head’s pounding.” She shifts, wincing as she turns her face to him. “And my neck feels… stiff, I guess.”

He hums, placing a hand on her forehead, then on the back of her neck. “Think your fever’s up,” he murmurs. “Reckon it’s time for some more medicine. Let me get one of the nurses—”

“No,” Ellie protests, her fingers tightening on his pants. “Stay.”

Joel hesitates, torn between getting her help and keeping her calm. Finally, he settles, hand returning to her back. “Alright,” he murmurs. “But I’m gettin’ someone in a little while. No sense in feelin’ like shit when there’s medicine to help.”

They sit in silence for a while, Joel’s concern growing when Ellie winces every few minutes. Eventually, she demands: “Do that thing with my neck.”

“You got it, boss.” With a chuckle, he slides his hand up, reaching across himself to scratch his fingers through her hair. “You let me know if this makes it hurt more.”

“It won’t,” she mumbles, sighing as he soothes away some of the pain.

As Joel’s fingers work through Ellie’s hair, he can feel the tension easing from her muscles. Her breathing becomes more even, and her grip on his jeans loosens slightly. A little color even returns to her cheeks. He’s grateful for these small moments of relief, however brief they may be.

“Joel?”

“Hmm?”

“Can we get up? I gotta piss and I’m tired of being in bed all the time.”

Joel hesitates, his hand stilling in her hair. “We can try,” he hedges. “But you’re pretty sick, kiddo. Don’t want you overexertin’ yourself.”

Ellie shifts, propping herself up with visible effort. “Just for a little while. I feel like I’ve been in here forever,” she whines, giving him her best innocent smile.

Looking at her too-pale face and the dark circles under her eyes, Joel knows he should say no. But the pleading look she gives him chips away at his resolve. “Alright,” he sighs. “But when I say we’re done, I don’t want to hear no complaints. And you tell me the second you start feelin’ worse.”

Ellie nods, pushing on Joel’s arm and scowling when he doesn’t budge. “Move already, old man.”

“Ain’t that old, you little shit,” he retorts, unable to hide a fond smirk. “And you’ve gotta get out on the other side, or you’ll rip that IV right out.”

She immediately turns and swings her legs over the edge, gasping when she tries to turn her neck to see him. “Fuck,” she grunts.

That gets him on his feet and around the bed in seconds. “Ellie—”

“There was an entire week you couldn’t look to the right,” she reminds him. “It’s okay. Really.”

So goddamn bullheaded. “You take it slow,” he orders, holding his hands out. Ellie grabs them, allowing Joel to steady her when she sways. “Easy, kiddo,” he murmurs.

“I’m fine,” Ellie insists, though her grip on Joel’s hands tightens. She takes a shaky step forward, breathing deeply. “Just… a little lightheaded.”

Joel watches her carefully, shaking his head as she releases one of his hands to grab the IV pole. “We don’t have to do this now,” he reminds her. “No shame in restin’ a bit longer.”

Ellie shakes her head, wincing at the movement. “No. I need to get out of this room.” She glances down at her socked feet. “It’s weird just wearing socks.”

“Alright,” Joel concedes, repositioning himself to keep her upright if she loses her balance. “Reckon you can come help me with somethin’.”

Her eyes light up at the prospect. “Really? What?”

“Go take your piss,” he answers, nodding at the bathroom door. “I’ll tell you when you’re done. And for pete’s sake, wash your hands.”

“Who’s Pete?” she retorts with a smile, squeezing his hand before releasing it and disappearing into the bathroom.

He chuckles, shaking his head as the bathroom door closes. With one ear on the bathroom, he runs through the best way to contact Jackson without indicating where he’s radioing. They won’t be able to track the transmission after the fact, but he has no way of knowing who could pick up the signal.

When Ellie emerges a few minutes later, her face is flushed with exertion and fever, but she’s standing straighter and looks steadier. “So, what’s this thing you need help with?”

Joel moves to her side, running a hand up and down her back for a moment. “Thought you might like to come with me while I radio Tommy. Let him know we’re alright.”

Ellie’s eyes widen with excitement. “Really? Yeah, I’d like that.”

They make their way down the corridor, pausing when they reach Martie. “I spoke with Marlene about using the radio today,” he tells her. “She said it’s on five?”

The woman looks Ellie up and down before meeting Joel’s eyes. “I’m not sure that Ellie—”

“Oh my god,” Ellie interrupts with an impatient eye roll. “I’m not some kind of prisoner. We’re literally going one floor away, and Captain Overprotective here won’t let anything happen to me.”

Joel huffs a laugh, shaking his head as he looks at Ellie, then the doctor. “You heard her,” he shrugs. “Which room?”

After a moment of indecision, the doctor gives them directions before addressing Joel directly. “Dr. Anderson will be up in half an hour to oversee the next round of testing. She’ll need to be back in her room by then.”

With a groan, Ellie says, “I’m right here, you know. Just ‘cause I’ve got mushroom brain doesn’t mean I can’t understand you.”

At least Ellie’s sass is intact despite the weakness and pain she’s been suffering.

They make their way down the corridor slowly, Joel matching Ellie’s pace. By the time they reach the elevator, Ellie’s breathing has become labored, her face flushed.

“How we doin’?” he asks once the doors close.

“I can make it,” she assures him, though the breathiness in her voice makes him doubt her confidence.

He wraps his arm around her waist and grasps her elbow. “You want a ride? You can walk back.”

The elevator doors open before she can answer. Ellie starts forward, pausing after a few feet. “Okay,” she says, her tone defeated. “But only ‘cause I don’t want to be out of breath when we talk to Tommy.”

She must be feeling particularly lousy to accept help, but he’s glad she’s acknowledging her limits. “You got it,” he murmurs, arranging the IV pole so Ellie can keep hold of it without tripping him. Once she’s in his arms, they make their way to the radio room, nodding to the guard outside as they pass. Joel helps Ellie settle into a chair before sitting down himself.

As he fiddles with the dials, Ellie asks, “Do you think the radio can reach that far?”

“It should,” Joel replies, finding the right frequency. “We ain’t callin’ it… by its name. Don’t want the wrong people findin’ it, y’know?”

“Like you?” she grins.

Joel fixes her with an exasperated look and turns back to the transmitter. “You’re real funny, y’know that?”

“Yes,” she says proudly. “I do.”

With a soft chuckle, Joel shakes his head as he keys the mic to initiate the transmission. They wait in tense silence for a minute, then two. Joel repeats the call, looking over when Ellie shakily stands to close the distance between them. She sits right on his lap, reaching out to touch the transmitter. “Can I try?”

“Sure,” he murmurs, wrapping an arm around Ellie’s waist to keep her steady. She leans forward, grasping the mic with shaking hands. “This is Miller’s Little Shit. Do you read us? Over.”

“Tommy said they ain’t always able to man the—”

“Miller’s Little Shit, this is… Miller Number Two,” Tommy’s voice crackles through the speaker. “The hell kinda call sign is that, anyway? Over.”

“The good kind,” Ellie retorts, grunting in pain when she twists to grin at Joel. “Oh, uh, over,” she adds.

Joel’s shoulders relax at the sound of Tommy’s voice. “Can I talk to my brother now, or are you plannin’ on hoggin’ this the whole time?”

“Miller Number Two, Miller Number One is very grumpy today. I think he needs more prune juice or something.”

“When ain’t he grumpy?” Tommy jests before turning more serious. “It’s good to hear from y’all. We’ve been worried.”

Ellie settles back against Joel’s chest, wrapping her fingers around his free hand. Joel rests his cheek on top of her head, squeezing back. “Been… well. It’s been somethin’,” Joel settles on. “Fireflies moved their operation up to Salt Lake City. We only got here ‘bout ten days ago. Gotta know, do I have a niece or a nephew?”

Ellie’s outraged, “Maria was pregnant and you didn’t fucking tell me?” overlaps with Tommy’s proud, “Nephew. Noah Joel.”

A sudden lump forms in Joel’s throat, eyes stinging. When Ellie notices, she grabs the mic. “Miller One is having an emotion. How old is he? Is he cute? Or does he look like you?”

“Looks just like his mama,” Tommy reports with a chuckle. “And he’ll be six53 weeks tomorrow. How’re them Fireflies treatin’ ya?”

Before Ellie can respond, Joel takes the microphone. “Like damn royalty,” he responds, shaking his head at Ellie’s confused expression. “Marlene and them got here sometime in March. Hey, you remember that time Pa took us fishin’ in Utah? Bein’ up here reminded me of how mad he was when he realized there ain’t no fish in Great Salt Lake.”

“I remember him throwin’ his rod into the lake and makin’ you go after it,” he chuckles. “Christ, how old was I? Six?”

“Think I was… Ten?” When Ellie opens her mouth, Joel shakes his head again, squeezing her hand tightly. “So you’d have been five. God, remember the ride in that god-awful car? I ain’t never seen an uglier green.”

“Ten and five? Hoo-wee, we was regular babies, wasn’t we?”

“Sure were,” Joel agrees. “We—”

Ellie’s hand tenses in his. “Gonna happen again,” she gasps.

“Okay, okay, you’re okay,” Joel says, his tone calm and even despite how his heart races. He gets Ellie on the ground just as her body goes taut, then begins to convulse. “I need help in here!” he calls over his shoulder.

He ignores Tommy’s frantic, “Joel? What’s happening?”

Joel’s chest is impossibly tight as he holds Ellie, protecting her head as her body spasms. The seizure seems to last an eternity, even though the clock on the wall shows it’s only been two minutes. When she starts to gasp at irregular intervals, her face takes on the same terrifying gray color as it has with each goddamn seizure. Tommy’s panicked voice continues to crackle through the radio, but Joel can’t focus on anything but Ellie.

“It’s okay, Ellie,” he murmurs, stroking her hair as the seizure subsides. “I’ve got you. You’re alright. You’re alright, baby.”

As Ellie’s body stills, the door bursts open and two nurses rush in. Joel helps them position Ellie, then reaches for the radio mic with shaking hands. “She had another seizure. I have to go. I’ll try to radio again. Out.”

Without waiting for a response, Joel switches off the radio, spinning the frequency dial halfway around before turning back to Ellie, scanning her for injury. The IV was ripped out in the chaos, blood seeping from the spot. Her gown is soiled and twisted, exposing her in a way that would cause panic if she was aware. He strips off his button-down and drapes it over her before palming her cheek.

“I’m here, Ellie. Right here with you,” Joel murmurs, slowly combing her hair from her face. “You’re okay.” She moans, turning her face into his hand. “There we go, you got it, baby girl. You got it.” When the nurses back away, he looks up. “No oxygen?”

“We don’t have it on this floor.”

Joel’s jaw clenches as he glares at him. “Then we get her back to her room,” he growls, easing Ellie to rest against his chest so he can wrap both the gown and his shirt around her. When he stands, her head rolls forward, a soft whimper escaping her lips. “You’re okay. I’ve got you,” he murmurs, pressing his cheek to her forehead. “You’re okay.”

The nurses hurry ahead while Joel carries Ellie to the elevator. As they step inside, she scrunches her nose, turning her face into Joel’s shoulder. The ride is tense, silent save for Ellie’s labored breathing. As they exit the elevator, Martie rushes towards them, her expression creased with concern. “What happened?”

“Another seizure,” Joel bites out, brushing past the doctor. “Longer than they’ve been.” He moves as fast as he dares to Ellie’s room, laying her on the bed as the staff surrounds them. He moves to stand by her head, his eyes fixed on Ellie’s pale face. They fit an oxygen mask over Ellie’s nose and mouth and reinsert the IV into her arm. She flinches when the needle pierces her skin.

“Baby?” he murmurs, resting his hand on her head and stroking his thumb over her temple. “You’re safe, Ellie. I’m right here.” She groans, her brow furrowing in pain as Joel takes a step forward so she’ll be able to see him when she opens her eyes. “Take it easy, kiddo.”

She’s out of it for longer today, weakly curling her fingers around Joel’s when he takes her hand. “J-Joel?”

“Right here,” he assures her, steadfastly ignoring Dr. Anderson’s arrival. “Think you can open your eyes for me, Ellie?”

“Mr. Miller—”

“You’re okay, kiddo,” Joel continues without pause. “I’m here, an’ you’re safe.”

“…happened?”

She focuses on him, eyes blinking rapidly. “You had another seizure. It’s over now; you’re okay.” After a moment, Ellie tries to sit, but Joel restrains her with a hand on her shoulder. “Easy, kiddo. No gettin’ up just yet.”

“No,” she protests, clumsily trying to remove the oxygen mask. “No, no, s’not… s’not safe…”

“It is Ellie.” Joel adjusts his hold so she can’t injure herself. “I promise we’re safe here. I promise.”

“Can’t… they’ll… y-you’re sick, I gotta—” She tries to escape from Joel’s grip, whining when she’s unsuccessful. “They’re gonna… eat…”

Joel finally notices Dr. Anderson as Ellie continues to struggle under his touch. “Can you give her anything?”

Dr. Anderson nods, signaling to a nurse. “We can give her a mild sedative; it shouldn’t interfere—”

“Swear to god, if you finish that sentence, I ain’t responsible for my actions,” Joel growls.

He turns his attention back to Ellie, who’s still fighting against his hold. “Shh, no one’s goin’ to hurt us here. We’re safe.” Because his hands are occupied with restraining Ellie, he’s not able to calm her by stroking her hair or cheek; that always worked, even when she was concussed and terrified in Colorado. “It’s springtime, baby. We’re with the Fireflies now.”

Ellie’s struggles slow, but her eyes remain wild with fear. “But… David… he…”

“David’s gone, Ellie,” Joel murmurs, loosening his grip as he leans forward to catch her gaze. “You made sure of that, remember? He can’t hurt you anymore. Can’t hurt neither of us.”

As the nurse administers the sedative through Ellie’s IV, Joel slides one hand up to her face, running the back of his forefinger over her cheek. “That’s it, El, relax now. I’m right here.”

Ellie’s eyelids droop, her breaths evening out as the medication takes hold. She manages to grasp the hem of Joel’s undershirt, tugging. “Don’t…”

“Ain’t leavin’,” Joel promises, pressing his hand to the crown of her head. “Soon as you’re cleaned up, you can be nice an’ close. How’s that sound?”

He watches as Ellie settles, eyes half-open as her grip on his shirt starts to loosen. “Step out while they change her,” he orders Dr. Anderson, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes. “Ellie has a hard enough time bein’ exposed like this when she’s awake; she’ll get upset again if there’s a damn audience now.”

Dr. Anderson wisely leaves without complaint, leaving Joel to stand guard as the nurses clean Ellie up and dress her in a fresh gown. She reaches out when they move her, squinting up at Joel until he perches on the edge of the bed. “Sit?”

“Soon,” he promises, running his thumb over her knuckles.

One of the nurses holds out his shirt, but Ellie grabs it before he can. She clumsily brings it to her face, rubbing her cheek against the fabric. “Smells like you,” she slurs.

He’s never seen her so… small as he has over the past week and a half. Watching Ellie struggle back to consciousness is nearly as terrifying as the damn seizures. “You keep that then, kiddo,” he whispers.

Once the nurses get Ellie situated, Joel climbs onto the bed beside her, propping himself against the raised back and stretching out on top of the blankets. Ellie curls into his side, her head coming to rest on his chest. He wraps one arm around her, his other hand finding hers where it clutches his shirt.

“There we go,” he soothes, pressing his nose to the top of her head. “Ain’t that better?”

Ellie mumbles something unintelligible, nuzzling closer as Dr. Anderson steps into the room. “You go on an’ sleep now. I’ll be here.” As Joel deliberately runs his hand up and down her spine, Ellie relaxes until she’s asleep, slack-jawed and pliant against him.

He takes a deep breath, raising his eyes to Dr. Anderson’s. “What, uh…” Joel clears his throat, glancing down at Ellie for a moment. “What did today’s tests show?”

Dr. Anderson nods, taking a seat next to the bed. “The blood tests continue to indicate that Ellie’s cordyceps infection is dying off. The MRI shows further fungal destabilization along the brainstem.” He sighs, resting his elbows on his knees as he leans forward.

“And that’s what causin’ the seizures? And the pain?” Ellie raises Joel’s shirt to her face once more, sighing contentedly.

“As the fungus dies off, there’s increasing inflammation and irritation to the surrounding neural tissue. It’s triggering the autonomic symptoms Ellie’s experiencing.”

Joel looks down at Ellie, stroking her wrist as he turns back to the doctor. “What’s causing it? The, uh, fungus dyin’, I mean.”

“I believe it’s a result of the drowning. Oxygen deprivation.”

He blinks and tightens his grip on Ellie, jaw clenching as he processes the information. “Is it causing permanent damage?”

Dr. Anderson sighs heavily. “We don’t know yet. The way her cordyceps is intertwined with the brainstem — we aren’t able to get good images of the underlying tissue.”

“So what’s the plan here? You can’t just let her keep havin’ seizures.”

“Now that we know she’s not a viable host, I can adjust her medication regimen to try and control the seizures,” he explains. “But we need to keep monitoring the infection’s progression. Each test gives us more data on how her immunity works.”

Joel shakes his head before the doctor finishes speaking. “To hell with your data,” he growls, his tone dangerous. “You’re tellin’ me you’re just goin’ to keep usin’ Ellie as a damn lab rat?”

Dr. Anderson’s expression hardens. “Mr. Miller, I understand your concern. But Ellie’s case is unprecedented. The information we gather could—”

“Your daughter came by today,” Joel interrupts. “Said she figured Ellie was gettin’ bored bein’ cooped up, so she gave us her favorite book.” He levels the doctor with a significant look. “She’s what, a year or two older than Ellie? Can you honestly tell me that if our situations were reversed, you wouldn’t be fightin’ for your girl? That if your overly independent, stubborn, smartass kid went from fightin’ like hell to cross the damn country to touchin’ you all the time because she’s so damned frightened — you wouldn’t be protectin’ her with every fiber of your bein’? If you wouldn’t, you’re either a terrible father or you’re a liar.”

There’s a flash of hesitation in the doctor’s eyes before he squares his shoulders. “Abby understands the importance of making a vaccine. She’d want to continue the testing.”

“And you’d kill her for it?” Joel challenges. “You’d cut your girl’s brain out to save the world?”

Dr. Anderson pauses before answering, “If she was willing to make that sacrifice? Yes. I would.”

Joel’s jaw clenches as he stares the other man down, his grip on Ellie tightening protectively. “Then you’re a goddamn monster,” he growls. “Ellie ain’t some lab rat for you to experiment on. She’s a child who’s been through hell, and I won’t let you put her through any more pain for your lost cause.”

“I appreciate your attachment to Ellie, but you need to think about the bigger picture here. Even if we can’t use this host to—”

“She’s a child!” Joel explodes. “She ain’t no host.”

Ellie whines at his volume, pressing her face deeper into his chest. “Sorry, baby, I’m sorry,” he whispers into her hair. “S’okay. We’re okay.”

When she stills, Joel turns back to Dr. Anderson. “The only tests you’re runnin’ from now on are ones you need to help her. If they give you data, great, but you ain’t layin’ a finger on her for tests that ain’t directly related to her health. So you treat her seizures, and you make sure she ain’t in pain. We’re leavin’ as soon as it’s safe for Ellie to travel.”

“You don’t have the authority to make that decision,” Dr. Anderson says, his tone clipped. “Marlene is Ellie’s guardian, and she’s given us permission to continue our research.”

“Marlene ain’t here. I am. And I’m tellin’ you, no more tests unless they’re to help Ellie get better. Period.”

The doctor opens his mouth to argue further, but Joel cuts him off. “You really want to push this? ‘Cause I promise you, doc, you won’t like where it leads.”

Tension mounts as the men stare each other down. Dr. Anderson cracks first. “I’ll consult with Marlene about adjusting the treatment plan. In the meantime, we’ll focus on managing her symptoms and monitoring her condition.”

Joel nods curtly, still stroking Ellie’s back. “Good. Now, if you don’t mind, Ellie needs her rest.”

The doctor stands, resignation palpable. “I’ll have a nurse check in every hour. If her condition changes or she has another seizure, alert us immediately.”

He waits for a few minutes after Dr. Anderson leaves to let himself deflate, hanging his head. “You’ll be okay, girl,” Joel murmurs, resting his head on top of hers. “We’ll get you better, and we’ll get you home. Promise.”

Chapter Text

The seizures taper off with the new medications, providing Joel with the slightest amount of relief. One less problem to face.

Ellie’s been asleep for a few hours now, comfortable and relatively pain-free. Joel eases out from under her, repressing a groan when he stands. Spending so much time sitting in bed is hell on his back, but with Ellie determined to have him close, there’s not much choice. He takes the opportunity to use the bathroom, then paces around the small room in the hopes it will stretch out some of the stiffness.

Eventually, Ellie stirs, frowning when she realizes he isn’t next to her. “Joel?”

“Right here, kiddo,” he assures her, grabbing her foot and wiggling it back and forth. “Needed to stretch.”

“Old man,” she mutters. Wrinkling her nose, Ellie’s eyes open, her expression immediately transforming into panic.

“What’s wrong?” Joel demands, perching on the mattress as Ellie swings her head from side to side. “Ellie, talk to me.”

“I can’t see. I can’t— Joel, I can’t see.”

Joel’s head swims for a second before kicking into gear. He reaches for Ellie’s face, capturing it between both hands and turning it towards him. “We ain’t panickin’,” he orders. “Got it?”

“B-but—”

“I know. I know, Ellie, but we can’t panic. Deep breaths while I get someone.”

Joel rushes to the door, mind reeling as he yanks it open, scanning the hallway for medical personnel. When he spots Martie, he hurries over; shouting will only upset Ellie more. “Ellie can’t see.”

The doctor hesitates before nodding and reaching for her radio. “I’ll get the team up. Does she need a sedative?”

He shakes his head, trying to steady his nerves against the sheer panic coursing through his veins. “I don’t know. Think I can keep her calm for a few minutes, but…”

“I’ll be right in,” she promises.

When Joel steps back into Ellie’s room, her face is pale as she presses shaking fingers into her forehead and cheeks.

“They’re comin’, kiddo.” As soon as he’s at her side, Joel grasps her hands to still their frantic movements. “Hey, hey, I’m right here,” he says, voice low and steady. Ellie’s panicked face turns toward him, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. “Remember what I said? No panicking. We’re goin’ to figure this out.”

“I can’t fucking see, Joel.” Ellie’s voice is shaking as much as her hands. “I can’t—”

“I know, I—”

“You don’t know because you can see,” Ellie sobs, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth to repress a sob.

In one movement, Joel is on the bed and pulling Ellie to sit between his legs, her back to his chest. “Docs are comin’,” he promises, his mouth pressed to her ear. “Breathe, kiddo. Slow, like me.”

He wraps an arm around her waist, keeping her snuggly against him. “I got you,” he murmurs, running his free hand up and down Ellie’s arm.

“What if… what if it’s permanent?” Ellie’s voice cracks, barely above a whisper.

“We don’t know what’s goin’ on yet,” he soothes, even though that’s all he’s thought in the past few minutes. “One step at a time.”

The door swings open and Dr. Anderson strides in, followed by Martie and two nurses. Ellie jumps at the sound, pressing further back into Joel. “Dr. Anderson, Martie, Celia, and Elise,” he murmurs into her ear.

Dr. Anderson catches Joel’s eye and nods as he approaches. “Ellie, I understand you’re having trouble with your vision?”

“It’s not trouble,” she spits, hysteria coloring her tone. “I can’t fucking see. At all. It’s just… it’s all b-black.”

“Mr. Miller, we’ll need you to—”

“No!” Ellie shouts, scrambling for a hold of Joel. “No, no, you can’t… you can’t make him leave, please, you can’t—”

Joel crosses his arm across Ellie’s chest, his hand squeezing her shoulder as he tightens his hold. “Shh, easy, Ellie, easy. I ain’t movin’. Hear me? They’ll work around me.”

“I’m going to check your eyes now, Ellie,” Dr. Anderson says, reaching for her face. “Can you tilt your head back?”

Ellie complies, her fingers digging into Joel’s forearms as the doctor leans in close. He shines a light into Ellie’s eyes, his face pinched in concentration. “Pupils are responsive,” Dr. Anderson says over his shoulder. He continues his examination, asking Ellie question after question about what she’s experiencing.

Each inquiry sets her more on edge until Dr. Anderson steps back, looking at the rest of the staff. “I’m going to consult with my colleagues for a moment. We’ll be just outside the door.”

As the medical team files out, Joel keeps his arms wrapped around her, rocking them both. “You’re doin’ great, kiddo,” he murmurs. “Take a breath. Nice big breath, with me now. There we go.”

“What if they can’t fix it?”

She sounds as terrified as he feels. “Then we’ll figure something out. Teach you to play piano like Ray Charles, get you a record deal.”

When she laughs, it turns into a sob. “I thought you wanted to be a singer?”

“You ain’t gonna let me sing with you?”

The door opens, cutting off Ellie’s response. She stiffens in his arms, biting back a tiny whimper. “Alright,” Dr. Anderson says in a calm, steady voice. “Ellie, we believe the blindness is being caused by increased pressure in your brain. It’s likely temporary, but we need to act quickly to prevent permanent damage.” The doctor holds a finger up to prevent Joel from interjecting. “We’re going to do an MRI right now, and while we wait for the results, we’ll do a spinal tap to relieve some of the pressure. We should see improvement over the week or so if it works.”

Joel shifts to whisper into Ellie’s ear, “I think that sounds like a plan, kiddo, how ‘bout you?”

“Joel can stay the whole time, right?” Ellie asks, her voice small as she clings to him.

“He can,” Dr. Anderson assures her. “I’d like to give you a sedative, Ellie. It will keep you calm through the testing.”

Ellie turns her head toward him. “Joel?”

“Think it’s a good idea,” he murmurs. “I ain’t leavin’ your side. You’ll be safe.”

“Okay,” Ellie whispers, sniffling. “Can… Can they tell me before someone touches me?”

Martie approaches with a syringe, pausing next to the bed. “We will, Ellie,” she assures the girl. “I’m going to give you that sedative now. You may feel some burning, but that’s normal.”

Ellie nods, pressing her forehead to Joel’s chin. Within minutes, her rigid posture relaxes as the tremor running through her body abates.

“That’s it,” Joel encourages softly. “Just let it work.”

As Ellie’s panic subsides, Joel squeezes her to his chest and then shifts her onto the bed so he can get up. “I need to change, kiddo.”

“But—”

“Shh.” He palms her face, thumb smoothing over her cheeks. “They’ll step out, and I’ll change right here. Won’t be more than an arm’s length away.”

She reluctantly lets him stand but insists on sitting where she can keep contact with his arm. As soon as he’s done, Joel sits and pulls her into his side. “I’m gonna carry you, El. Be faster than walkin’.”

With a nod, Ellie winds her arms around his neck, hiding her face against him. Joel cradles Ellie close as they make their way to the MRI room, his anxiety ramping up with each step. The sedative has calmed her enough that she’s not shaking anymore, but he can feel the tension in her body, her fingers fisted in his shirt.

The MRI takes twice as long because Ellie keeps flinching at the sounds. By the time it’s over, she’s worked up again, silent tears glistening as Joel tugs her into his chest. “Okay, kiddo, all done.” He looks up when the staff re-enters the room. “Where are we doin’ that spinal tap?”

“We have an operating room prepared — it’s not a surgery,” Dr. Anderson hastens to assure them when Ellie straightens. “But we need a more sterile environment than your room provides.”

Joel nods, looking between Ellie and the doctor a couple of times before asking, “Can Ellie have a stronger sedative for this?” At the doctor’s nod, Joel takes Ellie’s face in his hands. “Will you let them give you the drugs? Had one’a these once, and it sucked. Reckon you’d be a lot happier sleepin’ right through it. I won’t leave for a second.”

Ellie hesitates, chewing on her lip for a moment before whispering, “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeats, smoothing down Ellie’s hair. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

It’s a brief trip to the surgical suites. “Alright,” he murmurs as he sets Ellie on the table. “Doc’s gonna give you them drugs, and you’ll be wakin’ up in your own bed.”

“And you won’t leave?”

“And I won’t leave,” Joel promises, squeezing her hands. “Nurse is goin’ to give you the good stuff now, kiddo. I’ll be right there when you wake up.”

Ellie’s grip tightens as the staff prepares for the procedure. Joel strokes her knuckles with his thumbs, narrating their movements for Ellie until she goes limp.

“She’s under,” Dr. Anderson informs the room. “We’ll begin now.”

Joel releases Ellie’s hands, his fingers running through her hair a few times. He steps back and crosses his arms, watching as the medical team moves around Ellie’s unconscious form.

“Mr. Miller,” one of the nurses says softly. “You can sit if you’d like.”

“I’m fine here,” he murmurs, eyes glued to Ellie’s face.

They’re gentle, he notes with some relief. The way they position Ellie, the precise movements with which they prepare the equipment — it speaks to a level of care he hasn’t seen from them yet. It both soothes some of his anxiety and amplifies it.

Joel purposely avoids looking at the needle they’re using, wincing when the doctor inserts it into her spine and Ellie’s eyebrows twitch. It feels like the procedure takes hours, even though it can’t be more than fifteen minutes before Dr. Anderson murmurs, “That’s it. We’ll get her back to her room now.”

Joel moves forward immediately, ready to scoop Ellie into his arms until a nurse holds up a hand, stopping him. “We need to keep her flat for a while,” she explains. “To minimize headaches.”

Joel grunts in acknowledgment, his hands settling on Ellie’s hair and shoulder once the team transfers her to a gurney. He stays by her side as they return to her room, his hand never leaving her shoulder. The nurses settle her onto the bed as he pulls up a chair and positions himself so he can hold her hand.

“How long before she wakes up?”

Dr. Anderson checks Ellie’s vitals before responding. “The sedative should wear off in about an hour, but she may sleep for some time after.”

Joel nods, tearing his attention away from Ellie long enough to nod his thanks at the doctor. When they’re gone, he leans forward, grasping Ellie’s hand in his and resting the other on the blankets over her stomach. He finds himself counting Ellie’s breaths, watching her face for discomfort or distress.

The hour comes and goes without so much as a twitch from Ellie. He can’t help the nervous glances at the monitors, but there’s no change. Joel settles in for a long wait, his thumb stroking the back of Ellie’s hand. The room is quiet save for the steady beep of the heart monitor and Ellie’s soft breathing. He drifts, exhaustion creeping up on him after the stress and terror of the day. A slight movement from Ellie snaps him back to alertness. Her fingers twitch in his grasp, and her brow furrows.

“Ellie?” he murmurs, shifting to sit on the edge of the mattress. “You wakin’ up, kiddo?”

Her eyes flutter open, tears welling almost immediately. “It’s still black.”

His heart sinks, but he keeps his voice steady as he reaches forward to cup Ellie’s cheek. “Give it time, kiddo. Doc said it might take a little while.”

Ellie’s breath hitches as she tries to hold back a sob. “What if it doesn’t work?”

“Hey now,” Joel says softly, dragging his thumb over her cheekbone. “We ain’t thinkin’ like that. How’re you feelin’?”

With a shaky breath, Ellie tightens her grip on Joel’s hand. “My head hurts. And my back feels weird. Like, sore, I guess.”

“Reckon it will for a while. You want some water?”

She nods, and Joel helps her sit up, supporting her back as she drinks. When she’s done, he eases her to lie flat once more. “Gotta stay flat for a bit, kiddo. Headache’s gonna get worse otherwise,” he explains when she wrinkles her nose at the position.

Ellie sighs, her hand fumbling until it finds Joel’s again. “Can you talk?” she asks, her voice small and hesitant.

Joel eases back in his chair, keeping his grip on Ellie’s hand firm. “Sure. Want me to read?”

Ellie squeezes his fingers and whispers, “Something happy.”

“Happy, huh?” He hums, biting his lip when he realizes Ellie won’t be able to see his exaggerated movements. “Alright, I got one for ya. When I was ‘bout twelve, Pa took me and Tommy huntin’ for the first time…”

As Joel spins the story, embellishing here and there to make Ellie smile, he observes her expression. Her eyes remain unfocused, but some of the tension eases from her features as she listens.

When he finishes the first story, he launches into another without being asked. Ellie’s smile turns into soft laughter as he weaves outlandish tales. As he finishes a ridiculous story about Tommy being chased by an armadillo, Ellie’s grip on him loosens.

“Joel?” she murmurs, brows drawing together as she blinks.

“Hm?”

“I’m really tired.”

He squeezes her hand gently. “Then you should rest. I’ll be right here.”

Ellie nods, her eyes already drifting closed. “Promise?”

“Promise,” Joel affirms, his thumb stroking her knuckles. “Sleep now, kiddo.”

Within minutes, Ellie’s light snores fill the room as Joel watches her breathe. The memories he’d recounted to Ellie swirl through his mind, each one bittersweet. It was so much simpler back then; problems had straightforward solutions, and hard work and determination could fix anything.

He knows better now.

The door to the room opens, and Joel looks up to see a nurse slip inside. She gestures him over, and he reluctantly releases Ellie’s hand, standing with a soft groan. “How is she?”

“Sleepin’,” Joel whispers, looking over his shoulder at the girl. “Woke up a bit. Said it’s still black.”

“It will take time,” she responds. “The procedure isn’t an easy fix.”

“Yeah,” Joel sighs, running a hand over his chin. He watches as the nurse checks Ellie’s vitals and IV, making notes on her chart before slipping out of the room as quietly as she entered.

Hours drag by, punctuated by Ellie’s soft breathing and the occasional nurse visit. Joel dozes off, his head drooping toward his chest before jerking back up. Eventually, he stands to stretch without letting go of Ellie’s hand.

When their dinner comes, Joel runs the back of his fingers over her cheek. “Hey, kiddo.”

She grumbles under her breath for a moment, turning her face into the touch. “Sleepin’.”

“I know,” he soothes. “Time to eat.”

Ellie takes a deep breath and sits up with Joel’s assistance, groaning as he props her against his chest and adjusts the bed to support her.

“No,” she mumbles after a few seconds, her face creased in pain as she turns her face into Joel’s shoulder. “I can’t… I gotta lay down.”

“Okay,” Joel whispers, lowering the bed and easing Ellie to lie flat. “How’s that?”

Instead of answering, she closes her eyes and takes several deep breaths, the tension around her eyes evident. “Better,” she mutters in a strained voice. It takes quite a bit of self-restraint not to call for a nurse, but he knows Ellie won’t be pleased with any intervention right now. After a moment, he places his hand on her shoulder, his thumb idly tracking back and forth. “What were you feelin’?”

Ellie fumbles for his free hand, latching onto his sleeve. “Hurt more. And really dizzy. And I almost puked on you.”

“Lovely.”

“Sorry.”

The lack of remorse in her voice sparks relief through him; he’s glad to hear some sass after such a trying day. “We can try again later.”

“Oh, goodie,” Ellie groans.

With a soft chuckle, Joel cards his fingers through her hair. “Alright, kiddo. Think you could sleep some?”

She yawns, turning into Joel’s touch. “Nope.”

“You’re an awful liar,” he teases, pulling the blanket up around Ellie’s shoulders when she shivers.

As he untangles her hand from his sleeve, Ellie says, “Shut up, asshole. Why’d you need a needle shoved in your back?”

“Kept gettin’ headaches the docs couldn’t explain.” He huffs. “Think the headache after it was worse than the ones I’d been havin’.”

Ellie screws her face up in sympathy and dismay. “Awesome, totally looking forward to it.”

“Hopin’ that won’t happen to you,” Joel murmurs, resting his hand on the crown of her head.

“Hm.” She goes quiet, but he can see the gears turning in her mind. “You should eat,” she whispers after a while.

“I will,” he promises. “Try sleepin’, kiddo. Might make ya feel better.”

After a moment, Ellie sighs and nods. “You won’t leave, right?”

Joel leans back and pats her arm before standing with an exaggerated groan that makes her smile. “Guess I’ll cancel my trip to Fiji.”

“Yup. I’m more important,” she teases, shifting with a wince.

The words give him pause. She is — more important than anything except Sarah — but this is the first time she’s acknowledged how close they’ve grown. “Yeah,” he breathes, tucking her hair behind her ear and gently stroking her face. “You sure are.”

She smiles, her hand snaking out to find his again. “I’d cancel my vacation for you, too,” she mumbles.

Joel hums and strokes her cheek as she drifts off, the tension on her face lessening but not disappearing. When he’s certain she’s asleep, he tucks her hand under the covers, settles in the recliner, and runs a hand over his face. The events of the day weigh on him, apprehension and fatigue gnawing at his chest.

Christ, what are they going to do if this is permanent? The world is dangerous enough without adding disabilities to the mix. If he can’t secure a car to get Ellie back to Jackson, they’ll be stuck in Salt Lake City. Ellie will adapt — she’s damn resilient — but they’ve had enough close calls when relatively healthy. She can’t fend off infected if she can’t see them.

Joel sighs as he tries to banish the dark thoughts. Like he told Ellie — they can’t think like that. There’s no use in worrying about hypotheticals right now; they need to focus on the immediate crisis first.

He forces himself to eat some of the bland food, grimacing at the lack of taste. It’s better than the MREs, but only just. The potatoes aren’t bad, so he scrapes them onto Ellie’s plate and covers it. Soft foods have been sitting well for her, so he’s hoping the additional portion will keep her eating.

The hours crawl by. Joel tries to distract himself with the book Abby dropped off, but his attention keeps drifting to Ellie. Nurses come and go, quiet as they check on her and adjust various monitors. It’s nearing midnight when Ellie stirs again, her face scrunching up in discomfort. “Joel?”

“Right here, kiddo,” he murmurs, moving to sit at her hip. “How we doin’?”

Ellie blinks, her eyes moving but unfocused. “Still can’t see,” she whispers, voice thick with disappointment.

“Gotta give it time, remember?” He strokes her hair for a moment before resting his hand against her neck. “How’s the pain?”

“Still fucking hurts,” Ellie admits, wincing as she shifts. “Not as bad as before, though.”

“That’s good.” Joel hums under his breath, running his thumb over Ellie’s collarbone. She’s gotten so thin. “Think you can manage sittin’ up a little? Got some mashed potatoes that don’t taste like shit.”

Ellie takes a beat before nodding. “Okay. But not all the way. That sucked ass.”

“You got it.” Joel elevates the head of the bed until he’s certain she won’t choke, eyes glued to her face for signs of increasing discomfort. “How do you wanna do this?”

With a drawn-out sigh, Ellie shakes her head as she considers the question. “Well, you’re not fucking feeding me,” she mutters after a minute. “Show me where the plate is.”

Joel chuckles at her obstinance as he arranges the table and guides Ellie’s hands to the edge of the plate, pointing out where the food is in relation to her hands. “Fork’s right here,” he adds, sliding the utensil under her palm.

Ellie nods, stubborn determination written all over her face as she fumbles for the spoon. It takes a few tries, but she manages to scoop up some potatoes and bring them to her mouth. A bit falls off, landing on her gown.

“Shit,” she mutters.

“Supposed to put it in your mouth, not your lap. You want me to…?”

If her eyes weren’t focused on a point to the left of his face, her glare would burn a hole straight through his forehead. “Don’t you dare.”

Her frustration grows as she struggles with the next few bites, more food landing on her gown than in her mouth. Joel watches, curling and uncurling his hands into fists as he curbs the urge to help.

“Fuck this,” she finally snarls, flinging the fork down. It clatters against the tray, making her flinch at the unexpected sound. “I can’t even fucking feed myself. This is bullshit!”

Joel wants to reach out, but when Ellie’s emotions run high, she lashes out verbally and physically, and he has no desire to fight. “You’re doin’ fine. Nearly done with the—”

“No, I’m not!” Ellie snaps, tears welling as she tries to push the tray away and misses. “I can’t see, I can’t eat, I can’t sit up without feeling like I’m gonna puke and pass out. I can’t even control my own fucking body. Nothing about that is fine, Joel. It’s the exact fucking opposite of fine.”

After a deep breath to steady himself, Joel rests his hand on her knee and squeezes. “I know you’re frustrated, kiddo, but—”

“You don’t know shit.” Her tone is caustic as she jerks her leg away from his touch. It reminds him of the few teenage blow-outs he and Sarah had, the kind where blind hormonal rage ran so high that reason took a back seat. “Fuck you. Fuck you. You have no fucking clue what it’s like to be stuck in the dark when fuck knows what lurks around the corner. Yeah, whatever, we’re probably safe here, but we aren’t going to be forever. And how the fuck are we supposed to fight if you’re carrying my useless ass around? I can’t spot danger. I can’t shoot at it. I can’t even see to fucking stab it. And even if I learn how to handle weapons like this, I’d probably end up killing you anyway because I. Can’t. See.”

“You’re right.”

Ellie’s mouth snaps shut, her brow furrowing in confusion. “What?”

“You’re right,” Joel repeats, keeping his voice low and steady. “I don’t know what it’s like. But I know you’re scared. Hell, I’m scared.”

“I’m not—”

“You are,” he interrupts. “I’d be worried if you weren’t.”

Ellie’s face contorts into a mix of anger and fear. “Stop being so fucking reasonable!” she shouts, fumbling for the tray and shoving it toward him. “You’re supposed to tell me everything’s going to be fine. You’re supposed to fucking lie to me!”

He catches the tray before it can topple, taking a deep breath as he rolls it to the side and out of reach. “You want me to lie to you?” he asks quietly. “Fine. Everything’s gonna be fantastic. Your sight will come back any second now, the Fireflies will develop the cure overnight, and we’ll tap dance with clickers all the way home.”

A sob escapes as Ellie’s face crumples. “Fuck you,” she chokes out, but there’s no real heat behind it.

“Hey now,” Joel murmurs, palming her cheek. “None of that. Gonna make your head worse.” When Ellie doesn’t pull away from his touch, Joel wipes her tears with his thumb. “We are gonna get through this, you hear me?”

“How?” she whispers.

“Don’t know,” he admits. “But we’ll figure it out together.”

Ellie goes silent, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she considers his words. “Promise?”

It’s not something he’s ever done for Ellie, but the memory of Sarah, tearful and desperate for her dad to make everything better, overtakes him. Joel brings his other hand to her face and leans forward to press a soft kiss to her hairline.

“I swear.”

Chapter Text

Ellie’s doing an admirable job of trying to adapt to the new, terrifying blindness. She’s been miserable — the spinal tap left her flat on her back with a debilitating headache for two days — but the tearful fear seems to have faded.

“At least I don’t have to worry about the light hurting,” Ellie mutters, running her fingers over the fabric of the shirt wrapped around her shoulders. “So, like, that’s good.”

Joel hums, kicking his feet up on the bed so he can nudge her with his toes. “Reckon I can beat you at poker now.”

“No way, old man. I’ll come up with a method to tell the cards apart without you seeing what they are. When am I going to sit in the fancy-ass chair?”

He nudges her again before sighing and reclining the back. It squeaks and groans, which widens Ellie’s smile. “You can sit in the fancy-ass chair when bein’ up for five minutes doesn’t make you sick.”

“But you said it goes, like, flat,” she complains. With a shiver, she pulls the shirt tighter around her. “It’s fucking bullshit that I’m freezing but can’t have more blankets.”

That makes him move to the edge of the bed so he can gauge her temperature. “Fever’s up,” he murmurs, running his fingers through her hair. “Think you’re due for more medicine soon. Want me to check?”

Blinking, Ellie runs her hand along the blankets until it reaches his leg. She scratches her nails against his jeans. “No.”

“Alright,” he murmurs, sitting back. “I can read if you want.”

She gives the offer some thought, huffing as she yawns. “I’ll fall asleep, and I wanna know about the trial. Can we listen to music or something?”

A soft knock at the door makes Ellie jump. Joel lays his hand on her leg and turns, frowning at the unexpected intrusion.

“The hell you doin’ here?”

Tommy stands in the doorway, his attention glued to Ellie. Joel’s had time to get used to the dark circles, the pale, sunken skin, the unseeing eyes; she must be a sight to someone who hasn’t.

“Who is it?” There’s a nervous edge to Ellie’s voice; each time another person enters the room, it rattles her. The concern on Tommy’s face amplifies as he tears his gaze away to meet Joel’s. Blind? he mouths, gesturing to his eyes.

When Joel nods, Tommy steps into the room. “Only the best lookin’ Miller on the planet,” he says.

For once, Joel’s glad Ellie doesn’t know his brother well enough to hear the forced cheer in his voice. He turns his attention to Ellie, who’s frowning; for once, it’s in confusion, not pain. “The hell you doin’ here?” she repeats, lips quirking into a half-smile.

“Figured you’d be sick of the old man by now.”

Patting Ellie’s hand, he stands and takes three large steps toward Tommy. He pulls him into a tight hug, whispering, “Thank you.”

“‘Course,” he murmurs, clapping Joel on the shoulder and breaking the embrace. “How you doin’, li’l miss?”

“Don’t call me that,” Ellie groans, fumbling for the bed controls. She shouldn’t be upright — it’s going to make her headache worse — but he doesn’t have the heart to stop her. At this point, he’ll let her get away with just about anything, so long as it isn’t dangerous for her.

Also, she told him off for trying to stop her from sitting up whenever she wanted.

Joel squeezes Tommy’s arm and turns to Ellie. “Think I’ll see how much longer ’til you can have another dose, kiddo.”

“It’s rude to talk about seeing things, asshole,” she grumps, crossing her arms. “But I’m fucking lucky I can’t see Tommy’s ugly-ass face.”

“I don’t have an ass face,” Tommy retorts, approaching the bed.

“Keep telling yourself that,” she mutters, turning her head to track Tommy’s steps.

“Reckon I will.”

He briefly lingers at the door, watching his brother and his kid banter. It agitates something deep inside, the way Tommy accepts Ellie’s presence in his life with ease. Joel wasted too much damn time insisting to himself that she was just cargo, keeping her at arm’s length for months. What’s done is done; they have the rest of their lives to be family. Hopefully, that’s a good long time.

“Right back,” he promises, heading down the hall.

Martie looks up from the space she’s claimed at the nurses’ station, her shoulders relaxing when she sees there’s no urgency. “How’s she feeling?”

“Temperature’s climbin’. And she insists on sitting up; think she’ll be feelin’ lousy in a bit. When can she have more of that fever reducer?”

The doctor shuffles through papers before answering, “Half an hour.”

That’ll have to do. “‘Preciate it,” he says with a nod, turning around. When he reaches the room, he stays out of sight to eavesdrop on Tommy and Ellie’s conversation.

“—like shit? ‘Cause he never leaves. And I sleep like shit, so he sleeps like shit, and…”

There’s a pause, then a heavy sigh followed by, “You ain’t goin’a be happy with the answer, Ellie.”

“Just tell me, asshole. He looked like shit before this, and now I can’t see him. And I know he’s lying when he says he’s fine.”

Another pause. “Y’all both look like you’ve been through hell.”

“…we have.”

Joel takes his cue, backing up with a few silent steps back before stomping to announce his presence as he approaches the door. “Half hour, kiddo,” he says, approaching Ellie’s bed. “How’s that head?”

She blinks a few times — what he wouldn’t give for her to look at him right now — and reaches for the controls. “Getting worse,” she admits, dipping her chin.

“Think it’s time to lie down,” he murmurs, sinking onto the mattress. “You wanna close your eyes a bit? Get some rest?”

“What if I want to rest with my eyes open?” she mutters, temper taking a not-unexpected nosedive. “Not like it fucking matters.”

“Hey,” Joel rebukes. “Knock it off. Y’know we can’t think that way.”

“Easy for you to say.” There’s venom in her tone now, cutting and dangerous. “This is your fucking fault, you know. If you hadn’t gotten trapped in that bus, there’d be a cure already. Your fucking reason for being didn’t disappear in a couple of minutes.”

The last seconds of Sarah’s life flash through his mind rapid fire, burning through his chest. He catches Tommy’s attention and nods toward the hall. “Give us a minute,” he instructs. “And close the door.”

“What, you don’t want your brother to know how much of a fuck-up I am? That I can’t even hand them—”

“Enough.” It comes out harsher than he intends, but Ellie doesn’t flinch. If anything, it incenses her more.

“You don’t get to tell me when it’s enough!” she shouts, sitting up, her eyes squeezing closed against pain or dizziness or any number of the uncomfortable sensations she’s been experiencing. “You don’t get to tell me what to think and what to feel, you fucking asshole. Get the fuck away from me.”

Joel obeys, moving back as soon as he’s on his feet. With a deep inhale, he forces himself to stay calm. “I ain’t tryin’ to tell you what to do. I’m only asking you to take a breath.”

“I said, get the fuck away. So you want to pretend everything’s just hunky-fucking-dory? ‘Cause I got news for you, it’s not. And I—”

Her left leg starts to spasm. “No, no, no. Fuck. Fuck,” she mumbles, grabbing for Joel, panic clouding her features. “Joel—”

“Hey, hey, right here,” he murmurs, moving to recline the bed. “Tommy! Grab that doctor,” he calls over his shoulder as he turns her on her side. “You’re okay, Ellie. I’m right here. Ain’t goin’ nowhere, hear?”

She tries to respond, but her words are slurred and incoherent. Joel holds her steady, her body jerking and twitching beneath his hand. The seizures never get easier to watch.

“Shh, you’re okay,” he murmurs, trying to infuse calm into his voice despite the alarm gripping his chest. “I’ve got you, baby girl. Just ride it out.”

The door bursts open behind him, followed by footsteps approaching the bed with haste.

“How long?” Martie asks as she checks Ellie.

“Just started. Thirty seconds, maybe.”

He tunes the doctor out in favor of putting his full attention on Ellie. Drool and foam trickle from the corner of her mouth, so he gently wipes it away with his sleeve. A hand lands on his shoulder — Tommy’s, probably. Joel doesn’t bother acknowledging but instead glances at the timer Martie set. They’re nearing the four-minute mark when it subsides.

Joel rests his hip against the bed, stroking Ellie’s hair and bending low to murmur into her ear. A moment later, he’s interrupted by the arrival of a nurse.

“Tommy,” Joel says as he stands, hand resting on Ellie’s head. “Step out for a bit.”

Tommy nods, his eyes glued to Ellie. “I’ll be right outside,” he states, then slips into the hall.

Joel steps back with reluctance, giving the staff room to work. Once Ellie’s clean, he cradles her in his lap as they change the sheets. Her body is limp in his arms, head hanging low until he adjusts her to rest against his shoulder.

When the medical personnel finish and Ellie’s tucked into bed, Joel sits on the edge of the mattress and asks them to send Tommy in.

His brother enters the room wearing an unnerved expression.

“She’ll be out of it for a while.” Joel combs the hair from Ellie’s eyes, biting his lip when the staff rolls his girl onto her back. “Medication’s been controllin’ most of ‘em, but when she gets upset…”

“Yeah,” Tommy breathes, pulling a chair over until he can sit within reach. “Jesus.”

“Yeah.”

They are silent, both focused on Ellie, until Tommy murmurs, “She’s tough.”

Joel nods, reaching out to smooth her hair again, his hand lingering on her forehead. “Temperature’s still climbin’,” he mutters, more to himself than Tommy. “Won’t be able to give her nothin’ for hours now.”

More silence, punctuated by the occasional whimper or moan as Ellie comes back to herself.

“That’s it, baby,” Joel whispers when she moves her head. “We’re right here.” When she whimpers, he rubs slow circles on her stomach through the blankets. “You’re okay, jus’ gotta rest up a bit.”

Ellie doesn’t fully wake; she finds the hem of his shirt and starts to tug. “Alright. Hang on now, kiddo, hang on. Gonna have Tommy sit with you for a minute while I take a piss.”

Ellie moans, brow furrowing, but allows Joel to pry her fingers away. Once he’s transferred Ellie’s hand to his brother’s, he leans down to whisper in her ear, “Right back.” To Tommy, he says, “Should stay calm if you put a bit of pressure on her belly. Grounds her, I think.”

“Got it,” Tommy promises, attention not moving from Ellie.

Joel takes a few extra minutes in the bathroom to breathe, head hanging low as he braces himself on the sink. Christ, he’s needed this small respite. Knowing there’s someone here who’s only going to have Ellie’s best interests at heart… It doesn’t lighten the terror that’s taken up residence in his chest, but it defrays it.

When he steps out, it seems like Tommy’s whispering into Ellie’s ear. He glances back, expression somber. “Thinks I’m you,” he says lowly, laying Ellie’s hand in Joel’s. “Didn’t want her to catch the bait-and-switch.”

“‘Preciate it,” Joel murmurs, easing himself onto the bed. Ellie curls into him, her head pillowed against his thigh. “Needs a lot after one’a those.”

Tommy goes silent, unease evident as he claims the chair once more. “You’re about as pale as she is.”

“I’m fine. Won’t be gettin’ up soon anyways.” Joel lays his hand on Ellie’s back, the other combing through her hair with slow, deliberate movements as she gets comfortable. “Think she’ll sleep ’til mornin’.” He can feel his brother studying him, but doesn’t bother looking over.

“How long’s that been goin’ on?”

Joel sighs, tearing his gaze away from Ellie. “Been hell since we got here. Seizures started… a week and a half ago? Feels like fuckin’ forever.”

“And what did she mean ‘bout the bus?”

The question hangs in the air as Joel watches Ellie, her hand curled into a loose fist on his leg. “The, uh…” Shaking his head, he tries to collect his thoughts. “She drowned. Not… far from here.”

He has to close his eyes against the visceral fear he felt at that moment. “She can’t swim,” he whispers, biting the inside of his cheek. “Wasn’t breathin’ when I pulled her out.”

Tommy bends forward, his elbows on his knees. “But you got her back.”

“I got her back,” Joel whispers. Guilt sits at the forefront of his emotions as he tries to find the words. “Doc says the… oxygen deprivation from… from, uh…”

“Yeah,” Tommy breathes. “What’d it—”

“Killed the cordyceps. All… this… it’s from the fungus dyin’ off.”

“Jesus Christ, Joel.” Tommy pulls his chair closer, tentatively reaching for Ellie’s hand. When Joel nods, he cradles it in between both of his. “So they ain’t—”

“No,” Joel interrupts. “What, uh… what’re you really doin’ here?”

Tommy looks up at him, brow furrowed. “Whaddya mean, what am I really doin’ here? You said it was a fifteen.” He pauses, regarding Joel with a critical eye. “You crossed the goddamn country to check on me, Joel. This is the least I could do.”

“You got Maria and Noah to think—”

“Maria suggested it ‘fore I had the chance. And she don’t… I never told her ‘bout the code. Reckon she saw my face and…”

“How’d a dipshit like you manage to bag yourself a smart woman like her?”

“Same way you got Tess, big brother,” Tommy shoots him a small, sad smile. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you, but…”

“I know,” Joel murmurs, stroking Ellie’s hair when she stirs. “Easy, baby. You’re okay.”

They fall quiet until she’s still, her breaths steady as she sleeps. “The blindness?”

“Two days ago. The, uh… cordyceps. It’s wrapped around her brainstem. Doc says she’s - lucky - the fungus at the top of it cleared quick, ‘cause the nerves there control… breathin’,” Joel stammers, trying to find the right words. “Said the cordyceps near her spine is thicker. Takin’ longer to break down or whatever. S’why she can’t see.”

“Permanent?”

Joel looks down at Ellie, biting his lip as he watches her. He shrugs at Tommy as he runs the back of his fingers over her cheek. “Doc says it’s still too early to tell. We been tryin’a stay positive, but…”

“Shoulda called an eighteen, Joel,” Tommy whispers, shifting one of his hands to rest on Ellie’s. “I’d’ve been here sooner.”

“Can’t have you puttin’ you and yours in danger for no reason.”

Tommy flicks his knee, an exasperated expression taking up residence. “Family’s a reason.”

“Tommy—”

“Family’s a reason,” he repeats in a firm tone, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind Ellie’s ear. “You damn well know that.”

“Yeah,” Joel breathes, closing his eyes. “Yeah, I do.”

They lapse into silence, watching as Ellie sleeps. When Tommy speaks, it startles him. “She’s worried ‘bout you. Says she thinks you’re—”

“I heard.”

Tommy rolls his eyes. “Shoulda known you’d be lurkin’.”

He’d have never admitted this before… everything, but between the stress of Ellie’s condition and his overwhelming relief at Tommy’s presence, Joel takes a chance. “This is the first time since we got here I weren’t fuckin’ terrified to leave her side.”

His brother’s expression softens, sympathy and understanding crossing his features. “You ain’t gonna be any good to her if you run yourself into the ground.”

Nodding, Joel turns his head toward Tommy without taking his eyes off Ellie. “I know. It’s just…” He trails off, struggling to vocalize his thoughts.

“You can’t bear leavin’ her,” his brother finishes. “I get it, Joel. I do. But I’m here now. You need some real rest.”

Joel’s jaw clenches, stubborn pride reasserting itself. “I’m fine right where I am.”

Tommy sighs, leaning back in his chair. “Brother, you look like shit warmed over. When’s the last time you took a shower? Or left this damn building?”

Instead of answering, Joel continues stroking Ellie’s cheek.

“That’s what I thought,” Tommy says, his tone as exasperated as it is gentle. “Look, I ain’t gonna force ya. But I’m offerin’ to sit with her, keep an eye on things while you recharge a bit. Wash up, take a walk.”

Joel’s fingers tighten around Ellie’s waist as he shakes his head. “Can’t leave ’til she’s awake. Gets too agitated. The last thing we need is another damn seizure.”

With a sigh, Tommy stands and stretches with a wince. “You said she’ll be out for the rest of the night. If she’s needin’ to be touched, I’ll take your spot. Reckon we’re similar enough builds that she won’t notice.”

The idea of leaving Ellie, even for a short while, makes Joel’s chest tighten. But Tommy’s right — he’s running on fumes. Has been for more than a week now.

“Alright,” he concedes. “But I’m leavin’ the door open. Anything changes, anything at all, you holler for me immediately.”

“I’ve got her, Joel,” Tommy promises. “Go on.”

Joel shifts to ease Ellie’s head onto the pillow with care. She stirs, a small whimper escaping her lips, and he freezes. After a minute she settles again, fingers curled into the blanket.

Tommy takes Joel’s place in the bed, mimicking his posture. “Here,” Joel murmurs, guiding Tommy’s hand to rest on Ellie’s back. “Keep it there. Helps her stay calm.”

“Got it. Now go on clean yourself up. There’s fresh clothes for you both in that duffel.”

Joel lingers, his hand ghosting over Ellie’s hair one last time. Then he forces himself to turn away, each step feeling like he’s abandoning her. He steps into the small bathroom, leaving the door open a crack. The fluorescent light flickers on, harsh and unforgiving. He hardly recognizes the man staring at him from the mirror — unshaven, dark circles under his eyes, skin sallow and drawn. No wonder Tommy’s concerned.

With a heavy sigh, he turns on the shower, stripping off his grimy clothes as steam fills the space. Hot water cascades over his body, easing the ever-persistent ache in his muscles, and he allows himself to close his eyes and just breathe. But even this brief respite is anxiety-filled, his ears straining for any sound from Tommy or Ellie.

As he washes away days of sweat and worry, Joel’s mind is on Ellie. Her emotions have been wild, running the gamut from hysterical tears to red-hot anger that sends her blood pressure skyrocketing. This was the first time her anger triggered a full seizure. Dr. Anderson had warned him she’d be prone to drastic mood swings, but…

What are they going to do if everything is permanent? Jackson should be safe enough if she doesn’t regain her sight. But the seizures — there’s no way Jackson has reliable access to the medication Ellie may need to be on long-term.

Joel steps out of the shower, feeling marginally more human but no less anxious. He towels off and pulls on the clothes Tommy brought, grateful to have something clean against his skin. As he’s buttoning the shirt, he hears a soft whimper from the other room.

“Where’s Joel?” Ellie’s voice is weak, confused.

He’s out the door in an instant, crossing to the bed in three long strides. “I’m here, kiddo,” he murmurs, taking her hand from Tommy’s. “Right here.”

Ellie tries to open her eyes, moaning in frustration when she doesn’t manage. “Smell different.”

“Took a shower,” Joel explains, switching spots with Tommy. “How we doin’?”

“Shitty,” she groans, turning her face into Joel’s leg. “‘Nother one?”

“Yeah. You’re okay now; just need some rest.”

Ellie’s fingers tighten around his. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles. “Didn’t mean—”

“None of that,” he chides, running his hand up and down her side. “You go on back to sleep.” He keeps stroking her side, the repetitive motion soothing Joel as much as Ellie.

Tommy clears his throat. “She okay?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, looking down at Ellie while he runs a hand through his hair. “This is normal after… one of those. Wakes up a little, then sleeps real deep.”

They fall into silence again, the only sounds their soft breathing and the muted beeping of monitors. Some of the tension drains from Joel’s shoulders, Tommy’s steady presence a comfort he hadn’t realized he needed.

“You sleepin’ when she does?” Tommy asks after a while.

“When I can.” Joel rolls his head to the side, meeting Tommy’s gaze. “She gets restless easy. Nights are… rough.”

Tommy nods, his expression grave. “I believe it. You look like you ain’t slept in days, brother.”

Joel grunts, sliding his hand to rest between Ellie’s shoulders. “Ain’t exactly a priority.”

“Know I ain’t gettin’ you outta that bed tonight,” Tommy murmurs. “But tomorrow, you’re sleepin’, else you’ll go down hard.”

“I’m fine.”

“You ain’t.” His brother looks him up and down, shaking his head at whatever he sees. “Ellie’s worried ‘bout you, Joel. If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for her.”

Before Joel can argue, Ellie stirs again, trying to haul herself closer to him with her hand fisted in his shirt. “Hey, easy there, kiddo. Easy.” He positions the bed until they’re reclined, then settles Ellie to rest against his chest. “There, how’s that?”

She relaxes after a moment, sighing as her breathing evens out again.

“Got you wrapped ‘round her little pinky finger, don’t she?” Tommy teases, a fond yet sad expression on his face.

Joel huffs, resting his cheek against the top of Ellie’s head. “Reckon she does, yeah.”

“Y’know, I told Maria you weren’t goin’a let me take Ellie,” Tommy says, leaning back in his chair. “Knew it as soon as we sat down to eat. Glad you got your head outta your ass.”

Joel swallows hard, remaining silent as he gathers his thoughts. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Me too.” He finds himself drifting, the exhaustion and intensity of the past few weeks catching up to him now that Tommy’s here to relieve some of the pressure.

When Tommy reaches over to lower the bed further, Joel flinches. “Neck’s gonna kill you if you ain’t lyin’ proper,” his brother explains in a quiet voice.

Joel reluctantly allows Tommy to adjust the bed, settling back with Ellie still curled against his chest. The change in position sends a wave of exhaustion crashing over him, his eyelids heavy all of a sudden.

“Get some rest,” Tommy murmurs. “I’ll keep watch.”

He wants to protest, to insist on protecting Ellie, but the words won’t come; his body betrays him, sinking into the mattress as tension bleeds from his muscles. Ellie shifts, nuzzling closer, and Joel tightens his arms around her.

“If you notice anything—”

“I’ll wake you,” Tommy promises. “Now quit your yammerin’ and go the hell to sleep.”

Keeping his eyes open becomes an impossible task. The last thing he’s aware of is Tommy’s hand on his shoulder.

Chapter Text

“How’s my nephew?”

“Spit up all over the microphone while I was talkin’. Was exactly as disgustin’ as it sounds.” Tommy glances at Ellie’s door before settling in the chair next to Joel. “They’re havin’ a regular ol’ gossip session, ain’t they?”

Muffled laughter floats through the air, making something tight in Joel’s chest ease at the sound. “Sure are. Think Ellie’s happy to have someone else to entertain her.” Joel leans his head back, letting it land against the wall with a thump. The dull ache matches the one that’s been building behind his eyes all morning. “Last time she had another kid to talk to was months ago. Right at the beginnin’ of our trip. I’m just glad she’s feelin’ up to it now.”

“Me too. Good to see a little color in her face.” Tommy gives Joel a sidelong look and leans forward, his elbows braced on his knees.

“What?”

His brother’s answer is far too defensive for his liking. “Nothin’.”

“Don’t nothin’ me. What’d you do?”

“I didn’t do nothin’,” Tommy grouses, turning to Joel. “Maria sent our main doctor. Should be here tomorrow.”

He straightens, his spine going rigid at the thought of someone else learning about Ellie’s condition. It means another risk, another variable he can’t control. “Tommy—”

“We gotta bring her home, Joel. She ain’t gettin’ better, and she ain’t gettin’ worse. Em can talk to the Firefly doctors, figure out what your girl needs. And then we’ll go home once and for all.”

Joel’s fingers dig into the chair’s armrests until his knuckles bleach white, the wood creaking under his grip. “What am I supposed to tell this doctor about the cause of all this shit? We don’t know what they’ll—”

Tommy interrupts before Joel can finish the thought. “I trust her, brother. She’s been with Maria since the beginning. Saved my life more’n once.” He ducks until he catches Joel’s gaze. “I trust her.”

He deflates, hanging his head. “What does she know?”

“Reckon Maria told her everything she knows, which ain’t much.”

The door’s hinges squeak, drawing both men’s attention. “—new book tomorrow. Bye.”

Abby steps into the hallway, waving awkwardly at Ellie as she turns to Joel and Tommy. “Thank you,” she says, looking over her shoulder at Ellie’s room. “It’s cool you guys saw the giraffes. There are all sorts of animals roaming around here. My dad and I tracked a pregnant zebra for a while. The baby’s cute.”

“Glad y’all had a nice visit,” Joel says, trying to erase suspicion from his voice. She’s a kid.

A Firefly kid, his brain supplies. An untrustworthy kid.

“I promised I’d come by tomorrow with a new book.” Abby shifts, seemingly uncomfortable under Joel’s intense inspection. “Um, but if Ellie isn’t feeling well, I can leave it with you.”

Joel forces his tone into something approaching respectful. “Mighty kind of you. I know she appreciates it.”

Abby nods and strides down the hallway as Joel raps his knuckles against the doorframe. “We’re back.”

With a dramatic groan, Ellie adjusts the recliner until her legs are elevated. “Oh god, not again. I’m so fucking sick you both.”

“Yeah, but you’re more sick of Joel, right?” Tommy jests, bouncing onto the end of the bed. “You’ve been with him for months now. I’ve only been hangin’ around for a week.”

Joel chuckles, warmth spreading through his chest as he settles into a chair. “Watch it, little brother. We’ll take your car an’ head home without ya.”

The word ‘home’ causes Ellie to straighten, her shoulders suddenly tensing. “We’re leaving?”

Tommy leans forward, catching and holding Joel’s eye as he explains, “Maria’s sendin’ our main doc out to take a look at you, make sure what these Firefly doctors are sayin’ is right. She’ll see to it that we got everything you need to go home.”

“What about the research?” she demands. “Dr. Anderson said they’re learning more about cordyceps from my blood.”

He shakes his head, sliding the chair closer to Ellie’s. “That’s research they can continue without you here, kiddo. Lord knows they’ve taken enough samples. Right now, we need to focus on gettin’ you better.”

Worry etches deeper into Ellie’s brow as her fingers twist in the blanket. “But what if they’re close to a breakthrough? What if my blood could help—”

“Ellie,” Joel interrupts, his voice gentle but firm. “We can’t stay here forever. Seems like you’re doin’ well enough to travel soon. Tommy’s doctor can review the research, determine if they’re makin’ any progress. We’ll go from there.”

Tommy clears his throat as he plays the peacemaker. “We ain’t makin’ any decisions yet. Let’s wait and see what Em has to say when she gets here, alright?”

“When’s she coming?”

“Tomorrow,” Joel says gruffly. “She’ll be here tomorrow.”

“What if—”

With a grunt, he slides into a crouch at Ellie’s side. “Hey,” he murmurs, anchoring them both with a finger pressed to the top of her knee. “This ain’t a bad thing, kiddo.”

He watches Ellie carefully, noting the way she picks at her cuticles. She’s scared, and he doesn’t blame her; he is too. After everything they’ve been through, trusting new people isn’t easy.

“But what if…” Ellie starts, then stops, biting her lip. “What if she says I can’t leave? What if I need the seizure shit forever?”

That particular fear has been haunting his nightmares, but he shoves it aside. “Then we’ll figure something out,” he says firmly. Joel captures Ellie’s fingers, squeezing until she turns her head toward him. “We’ve been through worse, right? Whatever happens, we’ll handle it together.”

She nods, but deep lines of anxiety still mark her features. He’d give anything to erase those lines, to fix everything, but there are some things even he can’t shoot his way through. All he can do is be here with Ellie, steady and unwavering.

A thick, awkward silence descends until Tommy clears his throat again. “Em’s good people, Els. She ain’t gonna do nothin’ you’re not comfortable with. And if she tries, your old man here’ll probably throw her out a window.”

That earns a small smile. “He’ll use the flamethrower first. I think it’s his favorite.”

“It’s your favorite,” Joel interjects, frowning when Ellie yawns. “Tired?”

She shrugs, fumbling for the recliner’s handle. “Sorta. Talking to Abby was fun, but…”

“Exhausting?” Joel finishes for her, his joints protesting with a creak as he stands. “Back to bed?”

A spark of mischief lights her eyes as she smirks at the sound of his knees clicking. “You should oil those things. That’s what… damn, what did they call it? Kye! Isn’t that what kye’s for? I saw a bottle once and it said personal lubricant. You poured it on whatever you wanted to move better, right?” The innocence in her voice is too practiced and too familiar to be real as she pauses thoughtfully. “Doesn’t explain why it was flavored, though. Did you have to swallow before it worked?”

She’s fucking with him. Probably. Maybe. “Uh…”

From the corner of his eye, he catches Tommy bent forward, his entire body shaking as he tries to stifle his laughter. It explodes with a snort that makes both Joel and Ellie jump. “Girl, you need to give me a heads up next time you pull shit like this so’s I can find a camera. Fuckin’ priceless.”

Embarrassment burns across Joel’s cheeks as he glares at Tommy. “Alright, that’s enough outta you two. Ellie, bed. Tommy, out.”

“Hey, what’d I do?” Tommy whines as he unfolds himself from the mattress and stretches. “I’m just sittin’ here, innocent as a li’l lamb.”

Joel dismisses his brother with a snort, turning to focus on Ellie. “Need help?”

“No,” she says with stubborn pride, getting to her feet. Relief washes through him when she doesn’t waver — she’s stronger today than she was all week. “It’s… four steps straight and one right.”

“Didn’t know you could count,” Tommy calls from the door, chuckling when Ellie flips him off. “Alright, I can tell when I’m not welcome. See if I’ll come back to entertain y’all later.”

“The dream,” she snarks as she crawls into bed, fumbling with the blanket until she’s covered to her liking. With a soft sigh, she turns onto her side facing him, and they listen as Tommy walks away.

Joel claims Ellie’s recliner, studying her expression. “You’re overthinkin’ somethin’.”

She doesn’t respond immediately, face darkening as she shrugs. “What if… what if Tommy’s doctor says I can’t leave? That I have to stay here for more tests or drugs or whatever?”

“She’s comin’ here specifically so we can go home, kiddo. They’ve done enough tests here for her to know what’s what. And if you need medicine they don’t have in… at home, then we’ll figure out a way to get it. I promise.”

“But what if—”

“No what-ifs,” Joel interrupts, unwilling to let her spiral. “We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it. We’re goin’ home, one way or another.”

The next day, Ellie and the Miller brothers are on tenterhooks, the stress of expecting Jackson’s doctor taking its toll. Joel paces the room, his mind running wild with memories of waiting in hospitals, first as a son, then a father, and now as whatever he is to Ellie. Ellie snaps at Joel, he snaps back, and they both tell Tommy off for different reasons.

Tommy, wisely, disappears after Ellie calls him a cunt. The word hangs in the air, reminding Joel that his girl’s sharp tongue hasn’t dulled despite the adversity she’s experienced in the last six months.

When Abby arrives, book in hand, he nods at the girls and reluctantly steps into the hall — might as well track down lunch while Ellie’s occupied. As he approaches the desk, Joel’s instincts prickle when Martie looks up from the desk with a forced smile. “Your brother mentioned taking a walk.”

Something in her voice sets off warning bells in Joel’s mind — the same ones that kept him alive all these years. “Thanks, Martie. Think I’ll track him down while the girls chat.” He nods toward the walkie-talkies charging on the counter. “I’ll take one of those; radio me if Ellie needs anything.”

The woman hesitates for just a second too long before nodding and handing it over. “Channel 2.”

Joel’s muscles tense as he assesses her body language, cataloging every micro-expression. Relaxed enough, but there’s something off about it. A familiar dread settles in his gut, leaving him determined to locate Tommy and get back to Ellie’s room before Abby leaves.

Joel heads downstairs, breathing in the fresh air with a sigh. The light scent of spring reminds him of the journey here, of the way Ellie has begun to unearth her bright spirit as the darkness of winter fades away. They’ve spent limited time outside — the weather hasn’t cooperated, and until a few days ago, Ellie wasn’t up to moving much — but today is beautiful. Pleasantly warm and sunny, with a light breeze ruffling the budding trees; perhaps a little field trip will calm their nerves until Jackson’s doctor arrives.

Tommy leans against a barricade with an easy smile as he speaks with a guard. Joel studies his brother’s relaxed demeanor, envying how he can project ease in almost any setting. He cuts the conversation short immediately upon noticing the attention.

“Okay?”

“Weird feelin’,” Joel mutters, his eyes scanning their surroundings with practiced efficiency. “We’ll have to bring Ellie down here. Lord knows that girl could use some sun.”

“Pasty little gringa,” Tommy agrees, clapping his brother on the shoulder and leading them over to a small garden. “How many sunburns did she wrack up on the way out here?”

The wild swing of temperatures in Kansas comes to mind, mile upon endless mile of sun beating down on them as he pushed them forward, following the Kansas River toward Tuttle Creek Lake. He still feels guilty about not considering how Ellie’s fair complexion would hold up without sufficient shade. They’d stopped for two days to allow her skin to heal from her first sunburn. As soon as she noticed the peeling skin, she delighted in pulling it off, usually to drop it on him when he wasn’t paying attention. ^*

Upon reflection, it was one of many lousy firsts she experienced in his company. First firefight, first bloater, first car crash… first time she saved his life. There had been some lighthearted ones as well — first time wearing a seatbelt, first deer sighting, first prairie dog — but they all seem tiny in comparison.

“Too many.”

They stand in silence for a few minutes before Joel looks over his shoulder, doing a double take when he sees Abby hurrying in their direction. He walks toward her, his throat tightening as he notes her solemn expression.

The girl looks behind her before saying in a low, urgent tone, “You need to go back.” She glances around again, nervous energy doing nothing to quiet the alarms blaring in his head. “Marlene kicked me out.”

The world narrows to a pinpoint focus; only the number of guards outside the hospital stops Joel from taking off at a run. He’s vaguely conscious of Tommy talking to Abby — thanking her — as he strides to the elevator, mind racing through scenarios, each one worse than the last. Marlene hasn’t shown her face since the day they got here. Her presence, combined with the unease in Martie’s demeanor… it can’t be good. He should have known better, should have suspected that the Fireflies’ discouragement was mere deception.

Tommy joins him at the elevator, silent as they watch the screen for its arrival.

It doesn’t move.

A heartbeat of shared understanding passes between the brothers—they barely glance at each other before sprinting for the stairs without regard for the Fireflies. Joel’s heart pounds against his ribs, faster and harder with each frantic stride. When they burst into the hallway, Joel all but pulls his pistol at the sight of two men with rifles standing guard outside Ellie’s door. When they see him, they close ranks to stand shoulder-to-shoulder, blocking access to the room.

“What’s going on?” Joel demands, setting his jaw and taking on what Tess called his ‘murder stance.’

One of the guards, a wiry man he’s never encountered, shifts his weight to his back leg. “Just precautionary measures, Mr. Miller.”

“Precaution against what?” Tommy interjects, his voice tight with suspicion.

Another unfamiliar guard steps forward with a hard stare. “Against anyone interfering.”

The word hits like a physical blow, confirming the dark suspicions he’s been running since Abby’s warning. It’s a threat — the kind he and Tommy know too well. Rage supersedes panic as Joel meets the man’s movement with his own menacing advance. “The fuck you mean, interfering?”

The guard’s hand tightens on his rifle, but he doesn’t back down. Every muscle in his body coils, ready to strike, to kill, to do whatever it takes to reach Ellie. “Move,” he snarls.

“We’re on orders to—”

Tommy repeats the command, his aggressive posturing intimidating the guards into opening a path. Before the situation escalates further, the door to Ellie’s room opens and Marlene steps out, her face grim. “Joel. Tommy,” she greets. “I was just coming to look for you.”

“What’s going on?” Joel demands, heart dropping through the floor when he pushes past her to find the space empty. The blankets are haphazardly strewn across the foot of the bed, the flannel she stole sitting on top.

She never leaves the room without that flannel.

“Where the hell is Ellie?”

Marlene holds up a hand, her expression impassive. “She’s fine. We’re just running some additional tests.”

“Tests?” Tommy echoes, his voice laced with disbelief. “What kind of tests require armed guards for an empty room?”

Joel watches Marlene’s expression, resolve hardening when thinly veiled shame flashes across it before smoothing into grim determination. “The kind vital to humanity’s survival. I told you from the beginning — she’s the key.”

“She’s a child,” Joel seethes as he steps into her personal space. The guards might as well not exist for all he cares — they’ll be easy enough to dispatch when the moment arrives. “Your doctor said himself that she ain’t a source for the cure, not with the cordyceps dyin’ off. What. Tests.”

“Necessary ones,” Marlene interrupts. “You have to understand, this is bigger than all of us.”

“Where is she?” Joel demands, his voice low and dangerous, a comforting surge of violence seeping into his veins.

“She’s being prepped for surgery.”

“Surgery?” Tommy’s eyes go dark as he looks between his brother and Marlene. “The hell you mean, surgery?”

“No,” Joel breathes, the word escaping almost involuntarily, hands clenching into fists. “You have no right.”

She shakes her head and takes a step backward, toward the door. The retreat awakens something primal in his mind; the woman’s existence transforming from human to mere prey.

“Listen, I get it,” she placates. “But whatever it is you think you’re going through right now is nothing compared to what I have been through. I knew her since she was born. I promised her mother I would look after her.”

“Well, you’ve done a bang-up job of that,” Tommy mutters, stooping to tie his bootlace. “Ellie said you ain’t been to see her once in the month they’ve been here. Why the hell are you taking an interest now?”

Joel catches the glint of metal sliding up Tommy’s left sleeve as he straightens: his brother’s ankle piece, concealed from view. They’re ready.

“My interest is in the greater good,” Marlene says evenly. “Her sacrifice is necessary—”

“The hell it is!” Joel interrupts, the memory of Sarah’s lifeless body streaking through his mind. This time will be different. This time, he won’t fail to protect his girl. “We are gettin’ Ellie and we are leaving. Move.”

Marlene squares her shoulders, her hand reaching for something hidden at her waist. “You don’t understand what’s at stake here.”

“I understand perfectly,” Joel growls. “And you’re not touching her.”

Joel’s reality narrows to a single point: Ellie. His hand slides reflexively toward his sidearm as his brother moves with deadly accuracy. The first guard drops before he can raise the rifle, Tommy’s blade finding the soft spot between neck and shoulder. Joel intercepts the second guard’s attack, seizing his gun and using it to deliver a blow to the man’s head. As he hands the weapon to Tommy, the body collapses, unconscious, onto the ground.

Marlene backs away, reaching for something hidden at her waist. “You pull that out, you’re dead,” Tommy threatens, his voice deadly quiet.

Joel’s eyes lock with Marlene’s, and he sees a justification he’s witnessed countless times — the same kind he used to defend his own savage actions. She’s willing to do whatever it takes, to sacrifice anything, for her cause. One hand remains near his holster while the other signals Tommy to hold.

“You really wanna do this? Right here?”

Something about Marlene’s expression transforms as she raises her hands in surrender. “Think of the progress we’ll make toward a cure,” she pleads.

Tommy shifts, blocking any potential escape route. “Where’s Ellie?”

“Pediatric operating theatre,” she says, something like resignation replacing the defiance in her tone. “Same one they did the spinal tap in.”

The memory of Ellie, blind and terrified, suffering for days after the procedure, drives him forward. “If there is so much as a scratch on her…”

“You’ll what?” Marlene challenges.

Tommy stoops to wipe his knife on the dead guard’s uniform. “Want to find out?”

In one fluid motion, Joel steps forward and grabs Marlene’s collar, spinning her around and pinning her arms to her back. Within seconds, Tommy uses a discarded hospital gown to bind her wrists. “Go,” his brother instructs, slipping the pistol out and pressing it between the woman’s shoulders. “We’ll be directly behind you.”

They exit the room as a unit, Marlene between them. The empty hallway sets Joel’s nerves on edge — the absence of Fireflies can only mean they’ve cleared the path to wherever they’re taking Ellie. Cheerful murals seem to mock him as they advance, interspersed with flashes of Ellie’s tired grin as she crafted story after story using the animals.

Most of those tales featured at least two giraffes.

As they approach the operating theatres, Tommy twists Marlene’s arms until she gasps in pain. “If she’s hurt,” his brother warns in a deadly quiet voice, “Every single person involved will pay.”

Joel’s hand hovers over the handle, straining to hear any sound from within over the thunderous tattoo of his heart. The silence behind the door is more terrifying than screaming. Tommy shifts beside him, still gripping Marlene, his breath controlled but rapid. With a sudden movement, Joel throws it open, body coiled to attack.

The room is empty.

The sight hits him like a physical blow—sterile white walls, gleaming surgical instruments laid out meticulously, an operating table with restraints — but no Ellie. His eyes dart frantically around the space, cataloging every detail, every potential clue, when they land on a large frosted window that looks out into another room. For a split second, Joel catches movement.

“Tommy,” he says, voice low.

His brother shoves Marlene against the wall, securing her to a surgical table with a torn length of bedsheets and pulling a piece of medical tape across her mouth. “You move, you die,” he warns.

Joel’s body moves on autopilot, every atom focused on reaching Ellie. He bolts to the next suite, bursting through the entryway, rifle brandished. Icy terror crashes over him, so strong he can taste it, when he sees the surgical team through the vestibule window, their attention wholly focused on sedating his girl. For one terrible moment, he fears a safeguard against the Fireflies’ expected rage — a locked door.

Time slows to a crystal-clear crawl as Tommy catches his eye, hand hovering over the doorknob. With a sharp nod, Joel takes point as his brother positions himself out of view, finger on the trigger of his firearm. As he pushes open the door, the sight of Ellie strapped down and unconscious with multiple monitors surrounding her freezes his heart between beats. A doctor in full surgical gear stands nearby, back turned. Another figure — Martie — gasps and presses herself against the wall.

Dr. Anderson spins, scalpel raised. Joel calculates a dozen ways to kill him before Tommy’s on him, disarming the man and forcing him to his knees. Rag steadies Joel’s hand as he points his weapon at Martie and gestures to Ellie with his chin. “Unhook her.”

The woman hesitates, her eyes flicking between the Millers. Joel’s finger tightens imperceptibly on the trigger — she looks like she’s about to protest until Tommy pulls on the surgeon’s hair to bear his neck. “Do it now,” he barks.

With trembling hands, Martie moves to the operating table and starts removing the electrodes and IV from Ellie’s body. Joel watches every movement like a hawk, his grip on the rifle so tight his knuckles are white. Each second feels seems an eternity as he catalogs each wire, each tube connected to his girl. Except for the steady rise and fall of her chest, Ellie doesn’t move.

“She’ll be fine,” Martie says in a small voice. “We hadn’t started anything yet.”

Relief, suspicion, and fury war in Joel’s lungs. “Back,” he barks as soon as Ellie is disconnected from the machines. “Hands behind your head.”

When he’s certain the woman is no longer a threat, Joel switches the rifle for his revolver and steps to Ellie’s side. “Ellie,” he whispers tenderly as he strokes her cheek with the back of his fingers. “Baby, can you hear me?”

There’s no response, no twitch of awareness. He turns the gun on Martie once more. “What did you give her?”

“The same anesthetic we’ve been giving her,” she stammers. “It’ll last a few hours.”

Joel curses under his breath, his arms already moving to gather Ellie close. He lifts her from the operating table, cradling her to his chest. She’s alive, she’s breathing, but she looks so small and vulnerable. “You’ll be alright, girl,” he murmurs before addressing Tommy. “Bring him.” His voice turns to steel as he threatens Martie. “I see your face ever again, I put a bullet in your skull, no questions asked.”

His brother forces the doctor to his feet and frog-marches him out of the operating room, Joel close on his heels. With each exit strategy he runs through, his mind hits a wall. Fireflies on every floor and guarding the exterior. Blockades and rushing water throughout the city. Any number of infected ready to rip them to shreds. Salt Lake City is a minefield, a deathtrap without proper supplies and a plan, neither of which they have.

They stop briefly at the reception area so Tommy can retrieve Ellie’s records. “We need a vehicle,” Joel grunts, glaring at the doctor. “And her medication. Where is it?”

A sudden burst of gunfire outside makes them all jump. “Never said Em was comin’ alone,” Tommy smirks when he clocks Joel’s panic. “They’ve got damn good timin’, that’s for sure.”

Dr. Anderson’s face is pale, sweat beading at his temples. “The pharmacy is two floors down,” he says, voice trembling. “But you’ll never make it out. The Fireflies—”

“Shut up,” Tommy interrupts, shoving the doctor forward. “Walk.”

Each step through the corridors feels like a tactical assault, Joel’s grip on Ellie tight and unwavering. Her head rests against his shoulder, her breathing steady but shallow. He registers each breath as if it is precious cargo, his mind racing between watching their surroundings and monitoring her condition. Every few seconds, Tommy checks behind them, gun pressed to Anderson’s back.

They detour to the pharmacy, his brother collecting Ellie’s medications first before shoving whatever he can reach into his pack. The sound of gunfire draws closer, each burst making Joel’s muscles tense as he calculates angles of protection, keeping his body between Ellie and any potential threat. His mind races to calculate their odds with each blast. The familiar scent of gunpowder and blood fills his nostrils as they charge into the parking garage, ducking behind the nearest car for cover.

When there’s a brief lull in the fighting, Tommy hauls Dr. Anderson to his feet and forces him forward. “Your people are getting slaughtered,” he hisses into the doctor’s ear. “Call ‘em off.”

Joel watches the doctor’s internal struggle play across his face — fear and defiance warring for domination. Tommy moves the pistol from between his shoulder blades to his temple as he repeats himself. “Call them off.”

Anderson swallows hard, then yells out, “Hold your fire! Hold your fire!”

Joel’s attention bounces from Ellie’s slack face and their surroundings, indexing any potential escape and threat. Tommy and the doctor advance into the garage, his brother’s shoulders squared and proud despite the many weapons pointed at him.

“Eugene, Astrid,” Tommy calls, jerking his chin toward Joel.

Every muscle in Joel’s body tenses further as Tommy’s people approach, their bodies taut with heightened awareness. The woman takes a knee next to them, eyes skating over him and Ellie. “I know you’re capable,” she murmurs with a furtive glance around. “But right now, you need to trust us. Keep your attention on your girl so we can get y’all home in one piece.”

Joel hesitates, searching Astrid’s face, then Eugene’s. After decades of questioning every offer of help, of any scrap of kindness, he accepts the genuine concern they both radiate. Tommy won’t entrust Ellie’s safety to anyone he doesn’t have full confidence in.

“What’s the plan?” The words come out rougher than intended, but there’s no rebuke or dismay from the Jackson contingent.

Astrid edges closer, her whisper almost inaudible. “Armored vehicle’s waiting at the south exit. We cleared the path here, but we may run into more bugs heading out. Stay in the middle of the group; we’ll handle any threats.”

He narrows his eyes, studying her. “Why are you helping us?”

Eugene steps forward, meeting Joel’s gaze with an intensity that catches him off guard. “You’re one of ours.” A beat passes before he adds, “When we heard, we all volunteered to bring you both home.”

Joel’s eyes find Tommy, searching his face for confirmation. The slight nod he receives speaks volumes — his brother trusts these people with their lives. With Ellie’s life. “Alright,” he concedes. “Let’s move.”

Astrid and Eugene motion two more individuals over to form a protective perimeter around Joel and Ellie, as Tommy forces Dr. Anderson to lead the way. The air crackles with tension as they move forward, Fireflies tracking their progress with raised weapons, fingers hovering near triggers but not quite pressing.

They reach the exit where the promised armored van idles. Joel studies the vehicle with a critical eye — it looks like someone cobbled it together from multiple trucks, covering it in reinforced panels and gun ports. The sight reminds him of the truck that pursued them so relentlessly after they’d lost the car.

As Eugene helps maneuver Ellie through the vehicle’s side door, Anderson’s muttered words to Tommy catch Joel’s attention. He turns, eyes narrowing.

“You know this won’t end here.”

“Maybe not,” Tommy shrugs, “But it’ll end better for us than for you.”

“In,” Astrid hisses, all but shoving Joel onto the backseat.

He cradles Ellie in his lap, adjusting their position until her head lays against his shoulder, forehead pressing into his neck. As the others pile in, the sharp familiar crack of wood meeting bone echoes through the garage, followed by the thud of a body hitting the floor rings through the air. Tommy slides in, slamming the door shut with a commanding, “Go.”

The van lurches forward with a screech, the sudden movement making Joel instinctively tighten his hold. He clutches Ellie to his chest, one hand wrapped around her wrist and his cheek pressed to her hair as though he can will her awake.

“Let’s straighten her out,” Tommy murmurs, his gentle tone a stark contrast to the violence of moments before. He pats Joel’s arm once before unfolding Ellie’s legs and extending them over his lap, slowly running one hand over her bare shin.

“Should be an hour or so to Em,” Eugene says, rummaging through a large duffel bag. “Here.” He leans over to drape a thick knitted blanket over his girl, nodding when Tommy tucks it around Ellie’s legs.

“Should be clear,” Astrid announces from the front. She twists in her seat, her eyes sweeping over Ellie before catching Joel’s. “Ready to get the hell out of here?”

“More than you know.”

*our vintage misery by lkay09 (↺ go back)