#and texas hand on her weapon

[xekstrin]

Just making sure everyone saw this

Source: https://twitter.com/minnnnnnnim/status/1784861999051977196

[yelena-bellova]

Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen: Violent Innocence

Plot: A separated Joel and Y/n work different angles to try and best David and his men.

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: canon-typical violence, implied attempted SA, insinuated abuse, c*nnibalism, knives, guns, blood, wounds, language, loss of a child, ptsd, (16+)

A/N: This was a hard, hard chapter to get through, guys. If the quality of my writing isn’t up to its regular standard, it’s because it was truly emotionally taxing to write. I’ve also left out descriptions of certain events/discoveries/dialogue in an effort to keep the 16+ rating.

As always, this series is 16+ and I will not be adding anyone to the taglist who does not have their age/range in their bio. Gotta look out for younger eyes 👀

I advise everyone to take a breather, or just skip to the end of the chapter, if it’s too much to handle. Ep.8 was traumatizing and I don’t fault anyone for not wanting to put themselves through it again. I’m so looking forward to finishing out this series with y’all and the finale tonight. Thank you thank you thank you for your constant support and encouragement ☀️

——————

Unlike the movies, where the main character on the verge of death is miraculously returned to the living, Joel did not wake with a start. Still lost in the haze of blood loss, hunger and medicinal side effects, his eyes hurt to open. He registered the room, remembering being dragged down a flight of stairs and falling into a mattress.

One memory dripped down before the flood unleashed.

Ellie and Y/n.

Stay awake.

Men coming.

Leading them away.

Kill them.

The footsteps on the floor above startled Joel, the ticking clock and the realization that Ellie and Y/n were gone motivated him to roll off the bed. He stifled a groan, hurrying to his feet, clutching the knife that Ellie had placed in his palm. He wobbled his way to the rear of the room, falling against a water heater that could conceal him.

Joel listened for the footsteps over the blood pounding in his ears.

They crept through the room.

He waited…until the man finally passed the heater.

Joel couldn’t have possibly known that it was the same man who, five minutes before, had clubbed Y/n and ordered David’s men to shoot her and Ellie. But he slashed his knife through him as if he’d watched it happen.

After wrestling the man to the ground and assuring that he was dead, Joel rolled off him, wheezing for breath. He tried to gather his thoughts on his back. There were more men, all looking for him, Y/n and Ellie. They weren’t back yet, which meant they’d either been kidnapped or killed. Most likely kidnapped, so long as Ellie’s bite wound hadn’t been visible. Tortured, maybe, or worse.

Joel inhaled as deep as he could and began to drag his body across the floor towards the stairs. Towards his girls.

—————————

Y/n leaned her head back against the concrete wall, wondering why the fuck there was a cage inside a kitchen.

She’d carried Ellie into it, the butt of David’s follower’s rifles pressing into her back as they forced her in. They’d both been stripped of their winter coats and weapons. She had yet to get any answers as to why they wanted them there or what they were planning to do to them. Ellie hadn’t woken up, leaving Y/n on her own to try every conceivable possibility to escape. None had succeeded.

David entered then, finally gracing Y/n with his holy presence. He pulled up a seat across from the cage, smiling politely.

“How is she?”

Y/n turned her head, indignant at the fact that David’s men had shot at them, caused Ellie’s injuries, and yet he had the nerve to inquire about her wellbeing.

David tried a different approach, “I know this all must be a bit strange…”

Y/n bristled, “I lived in Texas, I’ve seen a lot weird shit, but, uh,” Y/n took a look at her surroundings, “Yeah, a jail cell next to a butcher’s block is an unusual feature.”

“We only use it when necessary,” David held up two innocent hands, “I’d love to explain our community more to you, but it’d be nice to know your name first.”

“Beyonce,” Y/n answered without hesitation.

The preacher chuckled under his breath, “You’re very quick. Stepping in to portect your daughter, your…what, your husband? Boyfriend?”

Y/n had been interrogated so many times, had sustained so many injuries in FEDRA lockup, that there weren’t many tactics that could work on her. David trying to get a feel for her and Joel’s relationship was a waste of breath.

He sighed, tapping his hands against his knees in wait. “You know we’re not here to hurt you,” he said softly.

“Gee, I wonder where I would have gotten that idea,” Y/n retorted, “What with my fucking head splitting and my kid unconscious on the floor.”

“An unfortunate turn of events, yes,” David corrected her, “But we’re protective of our own. You can understand that, can’t you?”

Y/n didn’t move a muscle, staring David down, “Oh, yeah. We’re one and the same there,” she cracked a smile, vengeance practically dripping from her lips, “And that should scare you.”

David, however, only found her threats mildly amusing. He exhaled with a small laugh, Y/n rather preferred being underestimated. It caused people to leave their weak spots exposed. She was sure if she looked hard enough, she could find David’s.

Beside her, Ellie finally began to stir, drawing Y/n’s attention. She scurried to place her hands on Ellie’s back, helping the girl to sit up.

“Me and your mother were starting to worry you wouldn’t wake up,” David said.

Ellie’s vision was blurry and her entire body hurt, her words didn’t carry their usual edge as she told David, “Let us out.”

“Well, that’s certainly the goal,” David nodded, “Hungry?”

“Why are we in a cage?” Ellie hazily took in their surroundings.

“Because I’m afraid of you,” David gave the same calm smile he’d given Y/n, “You’re a dangerous person. You’ve certainly proven that. The others want me to kill you two for what’s happened.”

Y/n held Ellie steady as she got to her knees, neither of them particularly alarmed by David’s words.

He leaned forward, “Did you hear me say the others wanna kill you?”

“Yeah,” Ellie breathed.

“But I stopped them.”

“Fuck you,” Ellie said on behalf of both her and Y/n.

“Why don’t we just start with your name?” David asked once more.

Ellie didn’t miss a beat, “Eat shit.”

“Hey,” David’s voice rose, “Listen to me!”

As he got to his feet, Y/n did as well, coming to meet him at the cage wall as Ellie scurried to the far end of their prison. Y/n wanted to rip into him purely for startling the girl.

“You can’t survive on your own,” David continued, his eyes looking past Y/n to land on Ellie, “No one can. But I can help you,” his gaze finally flicked up, “Let me protect you two.”

“We don’t need your help or your protection,” Y/n enunciated every word clearly.

“And we’re not on our own,” Ellie added from behind Y/n.

David nodded, “Right. Your friend,” his face changed to accommodate faux concern one might use on a child, “And how is he?”

Behind her eyes, Y/n’s mind flicked to Joel, beads of sweat around his temples, breathing so frighteningly shallow, his tan skin deathly pale. She couldn’t admit to the fear pooling in her belly that against David’s men, Joel might have lost the fight.

“I can see how much you care about him, so I know it hurts,” David continued, l having broken Y/n and Ellie’s first line of defense, “But even so…you gotta face reality.”

David turned and began to circle the cage. Ellie and Y/n moved as one, Ellie crawling in the opposite direction and Y/n standing in front of her as a shield.

“That part of your lives, it’s ending,” David went on, finally stopping on the other end of the cage, “And what I’m offering you is a beginning. But if you can’t find a way to trust me, then yes,” his eyes scanned Ellie, “You are alone.”

Without another word, David walked off through a door in the kitchen, leaving Y/n and Ellie to themselves.

Y/n was on her knees immediately, holding Ellie’s face in her hands and checking her head.

“Definitely got your bell rung,” Y/n lightly ran a finger over the pink bruise at Ellie’s hairline.

“What the fuck do we do?” Ellie asked, unconcerned about her injuries.

“I’m trying to figure that out,” Y/n replied, stroking a quick hand over Ellie’s hair, “I’ve already tried to window up there,” she pointed to a small pane of glass above them, “I can’t break it. Guns are over there in the corner,” she gestured to the edge of the room. And I can’t-“

Y/n was cut off by Ellie, throwing her arms around her body. The girl pressed the side of her face into Y/n’s chest, her short breaths warming Y/n’s skin through her layers.

Of all the horrible memories Y/n carried from September 26th, 2003, there was one in particular that lived in her chest every second of every day. As she had clutched Sarah in her arms, with Joel trying to assess her mortal injuries, Sarah had tried desperately to speak. Her lips pressed together, only able to make a humming sound. Y/n had shushed her, telling her that it was okay, she was okay, they’d all be okay…and that had been the last of it.

Whatever Sarah had needed to say died on her lips, but lived on in Y/n’s mind. She had spent so long, playing the memory back, watching the girl’s mouth, listening to the buzz in her throat, unable to rest until she knew what she’d wanted to say in her final minutes.

It took her one year to figure it out, and twenty to accept.

Mom.

Y/n had failed Sarah just as Joel felt he had failed. She’d spent the last two decades telling herself she could have jumped in front of them, she could have yanked Sarah out of Joel’s arms, she could have attacked the guard…all things her brain knew there hadn’t been enough time for, but guilt and logic never agreed on anything. Y/n had begged God, the skies, the earth, the universe, anyone, for a second chance. For some miraculous, mind-bending turn of events to send her back to that day and save her daughter.

And as she cradled Ellie in her arms, pressing a kiss to the girl’s head, she knew her second chance lay not in the past, but in the future.

“We’re gonna get out of this,” Y/n said, speaking with a strength she hadn’t in twenty years, “I promise.”

David was right about one thing, they had to face reality.

Joel wasn’t coming to save them.

They were on their own.

And Y/n would be damned if she failed to save someone she loved again.

————————————

Joel had tried to keep his violent side hidden from both Ellie and Y/n during their time together. He’d slipped with the FEDRA guard in Boston, remembering the terror in Y/n’s eyes as she’d watched him beat the young man to death. Whether or not he knew it, he’d tried from that moment on to be better.

But now, with their lives at stake, Joel didn’t care about better.

Every punch he drove into the raider’s face he had tied to the chair was pure rage, the only thing strong enough to keep him upright. The pleas of the bloody pulp of a man fell on deaf ears.

“Stop…stop, please…”

Joel rammed his fist against his cheek once more, silencing him.

“Leave him alone,” the raider who Joel had yet to touch urged from the other side of the room.

“You’re next,” Joel muttered, withdrawing the knife from his belt with a spine-tingling smirk.

“Please,” the man he’d been hitting begged, “I don’t know any girls.”

Joel was a human lie detector, having seen both the best and worst of humanity. He didn’t have to second guess whether it was the right decision to drive his knife into the man’s knee.

“Marco,” the guy tried to call, his voice strained from his screams of pain.

“No-no, no-no-no,” Joel cooed, his soft tone contrasting the roughness in which he pulled the man by his hair, “He can’t help you. You focus right here. Or I’ll pop your fuckin’ kneecap off.”

The man’s breath trembled as Joel gripped him, knowing that betraying David came at its own cost. “They’re alive,” he admitted.

The hope spread through Joel, but it couldn’t outmatch the anger that doubled at the thought of Y/n and Ellie being held and tortured. “Where?”

When Joel didn’t get his answer quick enough, he reached down and twisted the knife in the man’s leg.

“Ah! Fuck,” he squealed, “Fuck! Ah! The town!”

“WHAT TOWN?!” Joel screamed into his face.

“Silver Lake,” the man panted, wincing after.

Joel reached into his pocket, taking out his map and unfolding it.

“It’s not a real town name,” his victim said, his speech slow from the ache in his jaw, “It’s a resort.”

Now that was a word Joel hadn’t heard in a long time, “A resort?”

Feeling each precious second that Y/n and Ellie were still breathing slipping away, Joel removed his knife from the man’s leg and forced his mouth open, slipping the handle in. “You’re gonna point to where we are,” he held up the map towards the guy’s head, “And where your resort is. And it better be the exact same spot your buddy points to.”

Joel had a death grip on his hair, pressing their foreheads together and feeling his near-attacker’s body tremble with fear. Trying his best, the man aimed the blade at the map, pinpointing their location. Fear could always deliver results.

Joel sat back, examining the drip of blood that served as a marker. His body ached with exhaustion, but his chest felt the same pain it had for the last three months. The kind that was usually a precursor his panic attacks, except now, adrenaline was all that followed.

“That’s where we are,” the man whimpered, “I swear. Go ask him, he’ll tell you. I’m not lying.”

There had never been a question as to whether or not Joel would show mercy. These men had seen Ellie and Y/n, knew where they were being kept, they might have even laid hands on them.

Joel slid the blade into the man’s chest without a second thought.

Marco unleashed a string of expletives as Joel caught his breath.

“Why the fuck did you do that? He told you what you wanted,” Marco whined.

Joel took clumsy steps across the room, reaching for the lead pipe Marco had carried in with him that now lay across the couch.

“You motherfucker, fuck you,” Marco spat as Joel strode towards him, “I ain’t tellin’ you shit.”

“It’s okay,” Joel nodded empathetically, calling on the same disarming tactics he had in his days as a raider, “I believe him.”

In that moment, Joel wasn’t a monster.

He wasn’t the villain.

He was a father and a husband.

And he brought the pipe down with all the fury one could possess.

—————————

Ellie was relentless.

“El,” Y/n insisted as the girl continued to try and pick the lock, “I already tried that.”

“Well, maybe you didn’t try hard enough,” Ellie replied as she tugged on it.

“Yes, ‘cause this is just so pleasant,” Y/n spread her arms out to the cage, “Look, we’re not getting out of here like that. We’ve gotta wait for him to slip up.”

Ellie looked over her shoulder, “What do you mean?”

“He thinks we’re two little lost lambs or sheep or whatever, all alone without anyone to protect us,” Y/n explained, “We’ve gotta wait for the exact right moment when he fucks up and gives us an opportunity.”

“Okay,” Ellie nodded before quickly turning back to the lock.

Y/n slapped her hands against her legs, “I just gave you the plan.”

“I thought I felt it jiggle,” Ellie insisted, shaking the lock a few more times before coming to a sudden stop and stumbling backwards towards Y/n.

Y/n caught her in confusion, “What?”

She followed Ellie’s line of vision across the room to the chopping block, falling south to the floor. Y/n’s stomach turned at the sight…

An ear.

An actual fucking ear.

In all his perfect timing, David entered just then, carrying a tray and sliding it under the cage walls. Two bowls of soup and a cup of water.

David followed Ellie and Y/n’s eyes down to the butcher’s block, frowning when he realized what they were looking. “For what it’s worth,” he gestured to the bowls, “This is just deer meat, I swear.”

Ellie and Y/n were separately connecting all the dots of why they were being held where they were. They could have been trapped anywhere in the town, their weapons stripped from them and beaten into submission. This was a purposeful choice.

“You’re going to chop us into little pieces,” Ellie stated.

“I’d rather not,” David answered, “Please, just tell me your names.”

Y/n forced herself to exhale, wondering how the hell he could be so focused on a trivial detail.

“If you wanna judge me-“ David shrugged.

“Judge you?” Ellie raised her voice to a scream, surging forward to grab the metal bars, “You’re eating people, you sick fuck!”

She kicked the tray across the floor, it landed under the chopping block. David backed away from her anger.

“Yes,” David replied, “There are only a few of us who know. But I would’ve told you, sooner or later. I guess sooner.”

“You’re a fucking animal,” Y/n seethed, finally finding the strength to speak.

“Well, yes, we all are,” David said, his sociopathic calm tone beginning to worry both Y/n and Ellie, “That’s sorta of the point,” he took in Ellie’s disgust, “It was a last resort. You think it doesn’t shame me? But what was I supposed to do? Let them starve? These people who put their lives in my hands, w-who expect me to keep them save, who love me?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Ellie shot back.

“You don’t believe that,” David shook his head, “I don’t think your friend would either. Didn’t he take another man’s life to save yours?”

“Your men fucking attacked us,” Y/n added, her tone sharp.

“He was defending himself,” Ellie replied.

“He was defending you and your mother,” David corrected, even though he was calling on Y/n, his eyes were locked on Ellie’s, “But you knew that. You see a lot. So do I. And you know what I see when I look at you?”

Y/n watched the conversation in wait, it was beginning to alarm her that he was focusing all his attention on Ellie.

“Me,” he continued, “You remind me of me. You’re a natural leader, smart…loyal. Violent.”

Ellie froze at his words, while Y/n took a step forward.

“Keep going and you’ll see how violent I can be,” she threatened.

“Now, see, your mother,” David gestured to Y/n but never once looked at her, “She is deeply afraid, faking her confidence with threats. But that’s not who she actually is. I could unlock this door, hand her her gun, and she still might not be able to do what she needs to to protect you.”

Y/n’s nostrils flared at the assumption that she wouldn’t break his neck to save Ellie.

“But you, on the other hand…” David continued speaking to Ellie, “If I let you out of that cage right now, put that knife of yours in your hand, you’d stick me in a second. You have a violent heart. And I should know…” David took slow steps towards the cage, his eyes alight, “I’ve always had a violent heart. And I struggled with it for a long time. But then the world ended and I was shown the truth.”

“Right…” Ellie muttered, “By God.”

“No,” David breathed, “By Cordyceps. What does Cordyceps do? Is it evil? No. It’s fruitful. It multiplies. It feeds and protects its children, and it secures its future with violence, if it must. It loves.”

Y/n’s blood heated to a boil, her cheeks warming with rage. Cordyceps had taken everything and everyone she had ever loved. It was the purest form of evil nature had ever created. She wanted to cut through David, whispering the names of all her lost family into his ear as she did.

But this wasn’t her opportunity.

“Why are you telling us all this?” Ellie asked, she still believed it was a conversation between three people.

“Because you can handle it,” David said, Y/n may as well have not even been in the room, “The way the others can’t. They need God, they need Heaven,” David took another step towards the cage, “They need a father. You don’t. You’re beyond that. I’m a shepherd surrounded by sheep, and all I want…is an equal. A friend.”

Alarms rang in Y/n’s head so loud, she thought they were real. But Ellie was playing the game that Y/n had told her to, and she couldn’t stop her.

“What about our friend?”

“Like I said, loyal,” David nodded before taking another slow step towards them, “I can tell the others to stop looking for him. They’ll spare him.”

Ellie looked up to Y/n, convincingly filling her eyes with hope, before looking back to David. Y/n quickly adjusted her expression to match, pretending as if Joel’s safety was the only thing that mattered.

“Really?” Ellie took a step forward towards David, “They’ll just let him go?”

“Yes,” David answered confidently, “If he leaves us in peace, they will just let him go.”

It wasn’t hard for Y/n to whip up some tears, taking a choking breath in and following Ellie towards the metal bars.

“They do what I tell them to do. They follow me,” David was getting closer and closer, his gaze fixated, obsessed with Ellie, “And they would follow us. Lord knows, I could use the help. I-“ he chortled, gesturing to below the chopping block, “Look what’s happened.”

David extended his hand, gripping one of the horizontal metal bars between him from Ellie and Y/n. They stared down at it, considering their options.

“Think of what we could together,” David said, his voice alive with passion, “As strong as we are. We’d make this place perfect. We’d grow, spread out. And we’d do whatever we needed for our people.”

Ellie reached to grab the other side of the bar, her hand perilously close to David’s. Y/n had to fight every instinct to rip her body behind her own.

“Imagine the life we could give them,” David said wistfully, moving his hand to slide over Ellie’s, “Imagine the life we could build.”

David may not have been watching her, but Y/n made effort to drop two tears down her cheeks and sniffle as if it was the most beautiful idea in the world…

“Oh,” Ellie whispered, reaching a nearly shaking palm up to David’s hand, hoping that Y/n sensed that the moment was upon them.

Ellie pushed David’s finger back, a sickening crack erupting in his hand. As he cried out in pain, Y/n dropped down to her knees, pulling him in by his belt and grabbing the keys off their hook. Unfortunately, he wriggled out of Ellie’s grasp and reached through the bars, grabbing Y/n by the throat and squeezing. Y/n gagged and choked as his fingers tightened, but she still held onto the keys.

Ellie struck a blow to David’s abdomen, causing him to drop Y/n and stumble backwards. In the sudden movement, Y/n dropped the keys to the floor and nearly fell. David was quick to come back, grabbing Ellie’s hair and slamming her face into the bars twice before throwing her down.

“You little cunts,” he seethed, picking up the keys from the floor, “Let’s see what I go tell the others now.”

Y/n coughed violently, earning each and every breath back, but bent over Ellie to make sure she was alright. The girl’s blood painted the floor of their cell.

“Ellie,” she said, crawling past Y/n and towards David.

David turned, “What?”

“Tell them Ellie is the little girl,” the girl crawled to the bars, raising her voice, “Who broke your fucking finger!”

“How did you put it?” David asked, his tone mocking them now, “Hmm? ‘Tiny little pieces?’”

He stormed out of the room, slamming it behind him and leaving Ellie and Y/n to contemplate their impending doom.

“Fuck,” Y/n whispered, rubbing her already sore neck and forming a plan in her dizzy head. “Okay, when they come in, I’ll take them and you fucking run.”

“No,” Ellie replied quickly, stumbling to her feet, “No, we-“

“You’re going to get the fuck out of here,” Y/n continued, emphasizing each of the last words, “And you’re going to run.”

“I’m not fucking leaving you,” Ellie yelled, shoving Y/n’s arms.

“And I’m not asking,” Y/n yelled back, feeling her fate slowly approaching. If it bought Ellie time, it was all worth it.

She gripped Ellie’s shoulders, wrenching her closer and locking eyes with her. “You. Run.”

———————————

The snow outside had picked up, nearly blinding Joel as he trudged through the ice, clutching his abdomen the whole way.

He’d made it to Silver Lake, against all odds, but didn’t know the first place to look. He kept his good ear peeled, trying to listen for Y/n or Ellie’s cries, but the storm made that impossible. Leaned up against one of the resort’s buildings, trying to catch his breath, Joel tried to think clearly about his next move.

Then his eyes caught the trail of blood in the snow and logic went out the window.

Joel followed the crimson that led him to the building’s door. He broke the lock with the butt of his rifle and entered, clicking on his flashlight and drawing his pistol. He crept through the shed, bending down once to search under a table and finding only old clothes and useless supplies. Then, he spotted a nearly identical trail of blood leading into the next room.

All the while his heart thudded with fear, fear of failure.

Joel made no noise as he entered the room, shining his flashlight ahead to find what was left of one of their horses. They’d captured Y/n and Ellie while riding. The picture of their kidnapping was beginning to fill with color.

Joel shone his flashlight past the horse, finding tarps over equipment and…something…hanging on the other side. He moved around the animal’s body to get a closer look…

His stomach turned.

He had to fucking hurry.

—————————

David stormed through the door with James right behind him. Ellie and Y/n scurried away from the cage’s front. Y/n hadn’t expected a second set of hands, it made her entire plan impossible.

“No! No! No!” Ellie screamed, pressing herself into Y/n’s body in fear.

David and James wrenched the two of them apart.

“Don’t you fucking touch her,” Y/n screamed at the top of her lungs, hoping someone might hear them and come running, “No!”

“Get off of me!” Ellie shrieked, kicking at both of the men, “Get off of me!”

If Y/n had been on 10, Ellie’s pleas dialed her up to 12. She picked up her entire body weight and let herself drop to the floor, bringing James with her. He stumbled, but regained his footing and dragged Y/n out of the cell, kicking and screaming.

“No!” Ellie yelled, biting down on David’s all-too-close hand.

“Ow,” the preacher cried out, but stayed undeterred in his mission. He pulled Ellie out of the cell.

Y/n wrestled against Jame’s firm grip, flailing her arms as she tried to reach around and scratch him. She’d tear him to pieces with her hands, if the chance came.

“You motherfucker,” she cried, trying to catch her leg on anything that might slow them down, but he lifted her onto the chopping block as if she was nothing. James held her hands down at her sides, giving Y/n the opportunity to spit in his face.

“Wait, wait,” Ellie begged as David dragged her towards the block.

“Shut up,” James growled, narrowly dodging Y/n’s head butt.

David lifted Ellie up and dropped her harshly on Y/n, knocking the wind out of the woman with Ellie’s weight. He forced Ellie’s hands into Y/n’s, lining the two of them up.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait,” Ellie begged, Y/n’s coughs sputtering in her ear, “Don’t! Don’t do it! Please, don’t do it!”

“You had your chance,” David spoke over Ellie as he raised the cleaver above his head.

In her struggle for oxygen, Y/n let out a final cry. For Ellie, for Joel, for her grand failure to save all of them.

This was how it ended.

“I’M INFECTED!”

Ellie’s words echoed off the walls, David simply scoffed at her.

“I’m infected,” Ellie said once more, her voice low, “And now so are you.”

David glanced down at the bite mark Ellie had put on his hand. Y/n caught it too, fighting the urge to smile. The girl was smarter and quicker than she or Joel had ever taught her.

“Roll up my sleeve, look at it,” Ellie insisted, “Look at it!”

Biting down on his lip in frustration, David slammed the cleaver down beside Y/n and Ellie’s heads, causing both of them to flinch away. He tugged Ellie’s right sleeve up, revealing the ever-present mark that Cordyceps had left on her.

“God’s will,” Y/n strained, smirking below Ellie.

James looked up at his leader in concern, “David…”

“No,” David shook his head, “No, she would’ve turned by now. This isn’t real.”

Unable to speak without them hearing her, but needing to signal Ellie that she was on board with the plan, Y/n squeezed the back of Ellie’s hand twice.

“It looks pretty fuckin’ real to me,” James continued.

Ellie pressed her hand back into Y/n’s.

This was their opportunity.

Ellie reached to her side, grabbing the cleaver and lodging it in Jame’s shoulder. Y/n threw the girl off and kicked both feet into David’s stomach, buying them a few precious seconds to escape. Bullets chased them as they flew through the door.

Y/n and Ellie ran through the rest of the kitchen, making it out into the dining room. They went from door to door, banging and pulling furiously. Nothing.

Hearing David’s footsteps down the hall, they rushed back into the kitchen to look for any weapons. Ellie reached into a wood burning stove, grabbing one of the crackling logs before Y/n shoved her out of the room and down behind a wall.

The kitchen door squeaked, announcing David’s presence. Without her gun, Y/n knew she didn’t stand a chance at going up against David, but she could buy time. She crawled away from Ellie, ignoring the girl’s frantic looks and moved behind a table, popping up once she heard David’s steps.

“You’re very determined,” David’s calm tone continued, even as he clutched the cleaver in his hand, “I’ll give you that.”

“What a parent won’t do for their kid,” Y/n shrugged, “Right, Father?”

As Y/n put a period on her sentence, Ellie stood up from her spot and threw the burning log at David, missing him and giving Y/n the chance to duck down and crawl away. Ellie had, however, succeeded in starting a fire that quickly began to eat through the drapes of the dining room. Ellie crawled back, spotting Y/n and hurrying in her direction.

“There’s no way out, Ellie,” David called, moving away from the rapid fire, “The doors are locked and I have the keys.”

While she couldn’t see the flames, Y/n could smell and hear them. They were spreading as if nature herself had started it.

“Ellie?” David called tauntingly, “Ellie.”

Y/n knew that if there was any chance for escape, it would only come for one of them. David would have to be preoccupied with something else to let anything slip through his fingers and that anything had to be Ellie. Reaching down into her boot, she remembered she still had her knife on her.

She drew a deep breath and begged for Joel, dead or alive, to forgive her.

It was the only option that ensured Ellie’s salvation.

————————

Joel couldn’t move fast in the snow, the winds threatening to shove his fragile frame down into the ice. With every step he fought, trying to see something, anything through the gust of snowflakes.

In his mind, he was begging and pleading with the universe to give him a sign, a direction..he felt more and more panicked with each passing moment that he was too late.

Joel walked a little quicker, ignoring the stabbing pain in his stomach.

He couldn’t lose them.

—————————

“Ellie…” David called again, “I know you’re not infected. No one infected fights this hard to stay alive.”

Y/n belly crawled on the floor of the restaurant, away from Ellie and closing in on David’s voice. She clutched the knife in her sweaty palm.

“So…how did you do it?” David asked the room, “What’s the secret? Or are you just that fucking special?”

Y/n was near enough to the bar that she could see the panels swing open and Ellie’s legs trailing in. She was smart enough to try and find a true weapon.

“No one likes being humiliated, Ellie,” David continued his tirade, forgetting Y/n’s presence entirely, “You don’t know how good I am! You don’t know what I could have given you! If you had just let me!”

Y/n continued her army crawl before crouching behind the wall nearest to David, waiting for her perfect chance.

“Well, I have news for you,” the “pastor’s” tone softened back to its pulpit pitch, “None of us are dying today. You see, I’ve changed my mind. I’ve decided you do need a father, and your mother needs a husband.”

Y/n tightened her grip on her knife, waiting, waiting, waiting…

“So I’m gonna keep you two,” David promised, “And I’m gonna teach you.”

In her years, Y/n had heard and witnessed truly disturbing events. Nothing could have terrified her more than the sick headlines about corrupt preachers, using the Word of God as a deflection, coming to life in front of her.

Y/n leapt to her feet, spininning around the wall’s end and stabbing David’s shoulder from behind. The man cried out in pain, but didn’t fall as Y/n had needed him to. He faced her, swinging the cleaver past her before gripping her throat with one hand and shoving her up against the wall. Y/n struggled ferociously, speed kicking his legs until he dropped her. He wrenched her back, throwing her to the floor, and let one of the heavy dining tables fall straight onto Y/n’s abdomen. The pressure crushed her, stealing all the air from her lungs, and left her sputtering and choking for breath.

David leaned down, his lips grazing Y/n’s ear in a way that had only ever been reserved for Joel. “I’ll deal with you in a moment,” he growled.

Y/n was too breathless to speak and the table was too heavy for her to lift. It was almost guaranteed that David had cracked at least one of her ribs. She flailed about under its weight like a bug being crushed, frantically trying to escape.

With a lack of oxygen, her ears began to ring and her eyesight began to blur. From across the room, she could see David and Ellie’s figures fighting, with Ellie’s being shoved to the floor.

Y/n’s lips tried to form the girl’s name.

The corners of her vision began to darken just as David pinned Ellie down.

Her screams poured the air right back into Y/n’s lungs.

With strength only a mother whose child was endangered could have, Y/n strained to push the table off of her. She raised it enough to shimmy her abdomen out, letting it fall on her legs with a pained groan. She pulled and pulled her body out from under the surface, Ellie’s cries of terror giving her all the power she needed to roll the rest of the way. She grabbed her knife, stained with David’s blood and crawled across the floor.

David’s back was blissfully turned.

Ellie couldn’t see Y/n.

The flames were consuming the restaurant.

Y/n inched her way closer.

David said something Y/n couldn’t hear over the fire.

Ellie screamed louder.

Y/n reached her hand out, ripping David back by the collar, stabbing him in the chest with her knife and wrenching him off of Ellie.

Ellie reached above her head for the cleaver.

The rest passed in a set of thirty blood soaked seconds.

When it was over, Y/n stumbled to her feet, reaching down to pull Ellie up with her. The room was filled with a gagging smoke, the fames mere seconds from bringing the whole building down.

Y/n rushed them out through the kitchen, the back end was their best chance at escape. Down the hall were two large black doors, the lack of lock allowing Y/n to shove her and Ellie’s trembling forms out.

The cold air greeted their heated skin, both of them struggling to catch their breath. Y/n clutched Ellie to her as she maneuvered them down the stone steps and into the snow.

They both screamed as a pair of strong arms grabbed their bodies, tugging them backwards.

“No! Get off of me!,” Ellie shrieked, the reality of David’s death ceasing to exist under the strange touch.

“No! You fucking-“ Y/n tried to shove Ellie behind her, turning around and fighting hard against the figure before she even looked up.

Adrenaline somehow granted Joel enough strength to turn Ellie around in his arms and restrain Y/n’s hands.

“It’s me,” Joel coaxed as Ellie slapped his chest.

Y/n eyes turned up at the sound of his voice, meeting his eyes finally. “Ellie,” she breathed, awestruck.

“It’s me,” Joel repeated to Ellie, her hits finally stopping as she finally returned to reality. Joel took her face into his hand, cupping her cheek and drawing her gaze to him, “Hey, look…it’s me. It’s me.”

Ellie let out little whimpers as she took in his presence, miraculously in front of her.

Y/n ran her hands over Joel’s arm, in utter disbelief that he was actually there. His hand that rested on her back slid half an inch, the movement giving her the assurance that he was real. He had come for them.

“It’s okay,” Joel told Ellie, the girl mumbling and stuttering in shock.

Ellie didn’t think twice before looping her arms around Joel’s neck and burrowing her face into his shoulder. Y/n did the same, keeping one arm firmly around Ellie.

“It’s okay,” he promised once more, taking the full force of their embrace as if it were the very air he breathed. “It’s okay, babygirl,” he said to Ellie, “I got you. I got you.”

Y/n sniffled into Joel’s shoulder, feeling his hurried kiss press against her temple. She had gone from her most vulnerable to her most safe in the course of a single minute.

After a few seconds, wishing it could last longer, Joel pulled back to look at them both. He took in the blood on both their faces, there were big bruise marks on Y/n’s neck and she was clutching her stomach. He felt ashamed that he hadn’t been there sooner to spare them the pain of whatever they’d gone through.

“Okay,” Joel said softly, taking off his coat and wrapping it around Ellie’s shoulders.

Y/n finally noticed that Joel was carrying both his rifle and all three of their backpacks. She hurried to grab hers and Ellie’s, slipping one on her shoulder and carrying the other.

Joel and Y/n got on each of Ellie’s sides, wrapping an arm around the girl and setting off into the snow. The adrenaline began to fade in Joel’s body, weakening him once again till he was limping. The searing pain in Y/n’s chest ached with every breath, she had to time each inhale in between her steps.

But it didn’t matter to either of them. They locked their hands around each other’s arm, tightening their hold around Ellie, and took slow, unsteady steps towards the river.

—————————

That night, they sought shelter in a different neighborhood, hiding in someone else’s former house.

Y/n and Joel sat upright against the freezing concrete wall, Ellie sleeping soundly between them. They each kept one hand on her as they had soothed her to sleep, but they kept their hold long after. They needed the physical reassurance that she was okay.

All day, Y/n had held it together as they journeyed as far from Silver Lake as they could. She was too determined to get the three of them the hell out of dodge to fall apart. It wasn’t until Ellie had fallen asleep, under the safety of Y/n and Joel’s protection, that the weight of what had almost happened to them fell onto her.

Joel felt the trembling from Y/n’s hand gently shake Ellie’s body. He peered across her into the dark, the moonlight catching on her face to perfectly illuminate the silent tears down her cheeks.

As she stifled her sobs, Y/n felt Joel’s fingers intertwine with hers over Ellie’s torso. She squeezed her eyes shut, his touch sending her emotions right over their edge.

Joel squeezed, trying to tell her that in the silence, in the pain, he was there. He was there for the first time in twenty years for her to lean on.

Y/n squeezed back, savoring the press of his calloused fingers into her palm. They had come so close to losing one another, but they were alive. They were alive, they were together and if that was the only thing they had to hold onto, they’d cling to it like life itself.

——————

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[hopelesslyromanticshark]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ You Take The Man Out Of The City, Not The City Out The Man

content: leo valdez x daughter of poseidon! reader fic warning: looooooooong ass fic yall that's my bed, got carried away, bad google translated spanish actually doing it myself would have been too much work tbh sorry not sorry, minor angst but also overarching feeling of sadness so idk what to tell yall author's note: on my music lyrics as fic titles GRINDDDDDDD

“gods, i’m melting away!” y/n moaned, her face scrunched up and her hand waving near her face in hopes of cooling herself down. leo laughed, looking down at the girl with a rolling of his eyes.

“please, this isn’t even hot! quit whining,” he mused in response, his eyes trained on the town, taking in the new and old buildings.

“i’ll whine as much as i like, valdez. i hate texas,” the girl muttered under her breath.

leo huffed at her jokingly as he shoved his hand into the back pocket of her jean shorts. his eyes then returned to the familiar streets. when the pair had received this quest, leo almost turned it down. the thought of going back to his hometown made him sick. but, y/n was there to calm him down and talk through what he was really scared of. she reasoned with him and promised at the first sign of discomfort they’d leave, failing the quest without a second thought.

“my cousin used to own that shop,” leo mentioned, nodding his head towards the corner bodega. y/n’s eyes shot to it, her eyes lighting up as she turned back to him.

“cold drinks would help with this heat,” she offered, leaving it up to him completely.

“i’ve seen you sit in boiling water, this is not hot to you,” the boy huffed in response but led her towards the store, swinging it’s door open for her. a bell rang above the door, briefly drawing y/n’s eyes.

“you’re right, i’ve definitely felt hotter,” she joked, winking at the boy as she walked past.

leo laughed, following and draping his arm across her waist, muttering things into her ear that should not be repeated. she shoved him off her with a roll of her eyes, reaching up into a freezer and grabbing two jarritos, a lime one for leo and a mandarin one for herself. she pressed the cold glass to her neck, allowing her head to fall back at the feeling. leo shook his head, shooing her towards the counter as he grabbed his wallet and began to pull out some cash. the bell above the door chimed again as leo paid the unfamiliar man, frowning slightly that his cousin wasn’t behind the counter. y/n noticed, her smile slipping slightly too before she reached out to his free hand, tangling her fingers with his. he pressed his lips to her temple before telling the man to keep the change in spanish.

“gracias! que tenga un buen día!” y/n called as they left, the cashier replying similarly with a warm smile. leo reached into one of his cargo pant pockets, producing a bottle opener, opening y/n’s before doing his own. the two continued walking, leo occasionally mentioning a building here and there, but he tended to avoid the topic of his mother. y/n didn’t push, letting him do it in his own time and allowing his fingers to be snugly hooked around her belt loops.

“ah, this is where i completely ate shit and knocked my front tooth loose. me and my friend were racing to see who could get to the end of the block fastest and i forgot about the uneven concrete,” leo told y/n, who giggled at his little anecdote.

“i can see it. a bloody little leo right there,” y/n laughed, holding her fingers out like she was framing a shot. leo shoved her slightly, laughing lightly with her.

“actually, it was more that way-”

“leo?” a voice cut in, warbly and strained.

leo and y/n’s heads instantly turned in the direction of the voice, leo’s hand tightening on y/n’s waist and y/n’s hand gripping leo’s wrist, where she knew a weapon was hidden inside his sleeve. leo’s grip on y/n faltered as his eyes landed on the man, a few years older than the two, maybe in his late 20’s. leo’s body was having a reaction while his brain was trying to play catch up. the man moved closer, struggling to get breath in.

“god, i- we all- oh, leo, you…you’re so big,” the man gasped out, y/n’s eyes trained on her boyfriend. he was pained that he didn’t know this man anymore, the memories lost with the years of abuse from the foster system. y/n squeezed his wrist three times, grounding him slightly before she turned to the man.

“and you are?” she asked, knowing leo wouldn’t, his shame burning brighter than any fire he could produce. the man’s eyes briefly flickered to y/n before returning to leo.

“i’m…i’m mateo. mateo cruz. we- we used to go to school together,” the man, mateo, replied, tears welling in his eyes. y/n turned back to leo, who broke from her and staggered towards the man.

“mateo, h-hey, man. long…long time no see,” leo joked, though it was strained, before pulling mateo into a strong hold, the man replying similarly. y/n watched all this with a small smile, getting what she wanted out of this quest. she could return to camp empty handed and with a smile, knowing leo was healing.

“yeah, no shit,” mateo muttered into leo’s shoulder, both of them laughing. they pulled apart and mateo’s eyes instantly went to y/n, who got distracted by one of the rings on her finger being out of place, surely switched by leo subconsciously.

“right, right. this is y/n, my girlfriend,” leo jumped in, waving the girl over with a huge smile. she presented her hand to mateo, who gave her a pointed look before pulling her into a hug too. y/n chuckled, more than willing to accept.

“tengo que ser honesto, hermano, no pensé que terminarías con una chica tan atractiva,” mateo told leo as he pulled back from y/n. leo’s eyes widened as a blush covered his face, opening his mouth to cut in.

“el tampoco lo creía. pero el amor es algo voluble,” y/n replied, easily, leaving mateo’s jaw dropped. she smirked at the man, who shook his head and pointed at her.

“and here i thought you were just another girl,” he joked and y/n waved him off dismissively.

“he knows how to pick ‘em,” y/n winked, nodding her head towards leo, who wrapped his arms around her and picked her up, the girl squealing and trying to escape his arms. mateo watched this with a warm smile as y/n was returned to the ground, shoving the boy off her and flipping her hair out of her face with a huff.

“how long are you guys in town, leo? i’d love to have lunch or dinner, catch up, ya know,” mateo asked, hopefully, glancing between the pair. leo’s face faltered slightly and y/n was quick to interject with a warm smile.

“we’re here on business, but i can take care of it by myself. leo, go have lunch, make up for lost time,” y/n stated, half-lying. she looked up at leo, who frowned down at her.

“but-”

“i do not need a man to help me with this. i love you, but i can do it without you. it wasn’t an offer, that was an order. i’ll be back in, like, two hours,” y/n cut in, sharing a look with leo that said ‘if i’m not back in two hours, find me.’ leo still wasn’t happy but knew there was no fighting her on this.

“okay, okay. just-…just be safe, y/n. i love you,” leo muttered to her, knowing mateo would be suspicious if he heard too much. y/n smirked up at him, planting a kiss on his lips.

“i’m always safe. eat something good and save me some. it was lovely to meet you, mateo, and when i return i expect baby pictures,” mused y/n as she began walking away, waving at the men before she rounded a corner. leo’s heart clenched as she disappeared from view, a tugging in the pit of his stomach telling him to follow but then mateo gripped his shoulder and pulled leo’s eyes to him.

“c’mon, that really good pizza parlor is still open,” mateo told him, nodding his head towards what leo knew to be the pizza place. leo smiled, quickly falling in step with the man who he used to see more as a brother.

it was only a few blocks away and they made the time fly as they caught up. by the time the pizza was set in front of the guys, leo had learned about mateo’s wife and kids, career, what happened to his parents, and the names of his three cats. leo took a sip from his coke as mateo presented a photo of his kids, his son, edgar, looking like the boy leo used to play in burst open fire hydrants with.

“he’s like your twin,” leo stated and mateo nodded.

“we get that a lot,” he shrugged, returning his wallet to his pocket before moving his eyes back to leo, swallowing thickly, “what about you, leo? i mean- after…everything.”

“well,” leo started, debating on what to say and what not to say. he couldn’t just be like, hey, man, i started the fire that killed my mother because i was my father’s, who is a god by the way, chosen son. oh, and y/n, we met when she saved me and my friends from roman wind demons. one of those friend, by the way, i had fake memories of even being friends with and he was kidnapped and brain wiped. then i built a massive flying ship and sailed through the sky to a place called new rome and got possessed and nearly blew up my girlfriend’s brother. lifes been good. refills still free here or?

“just, uh, a lot of moving from one foster house to another,” leo surmised, shrugging as he lied. mateo frowned slightly, somewhat expecting more.

“is that how you met y/n? is she a foster kid, too?” he questioned and leo hesitated to shake his head. it was an interesting question that he wished she was here to answer.

“uh, no, we met at a summer camp, up in long island,” answered leo, glad the topic moved away from him once more.

“come on, leo. i know when you tell me half-truths. it’s been a long time, but that’s not something you forget,” mateo argued, crossing his arms with a frown. leo hung his head before opening his mouth to reply.

“look, mateo, i want to tell you, i do, but i can’t just-” his words faltered as his brows furrowed and he twisted in his seat, his eyes locking on the door.

“leo, i’m here for you and-” mateo tried only to get cut off.

“shh!”

“excuse me?!” huffed mateo but leo just shooed him again, his eyes still on the doors. then the doors smashed inwards, leo ducking down and glancing at his watch.

“shit,” he muttered, noting that nearly an hour and half had passed and y/n still wasn’t back. he then reached across the table and dragged mateo up and out of the emergency exit of the restaurant, not even looking back to see whatever monster was crashing their quest.

“it- he- lion-” mateo sputtered out, still reeling and the mist was doing little for this situation.

“fuck, you’re joking? a nemean lion over a hair clip?” leo groaned, peeking around a corner before dragging mateo with him as he ran a block away.

“what- what are you even saying?” mateo questioned, shrilly, as he glanced behind them. leo groaned before pulling the man into an alley and grabbing him by his shoulders, forcing the older man to look at him.

“my father is a greek god. it’s why i’ve got adhd; i was built to survive battle, not sit in class. the greek god of fire and mechanics is my dad. that was a nemean lion, which is determined to rip me and y/n into ribbons. y/n’s father is also a greek god, god of the sea. we’re here to collect some stupid hair clip but i just had to let y/n go off on her own and i don’t know even where she is-” leo explained, which quickly dissolved into a rant as his worry for y/n left him radioactive.

“you’re crazy! you’ve gone insane!” mateo shouted, pulling away from leo, who rolled his eyes.

“please, even i’m not creative enough for this.”

“so, i’ve gone insane,” reasoned mateo, gripping his hair in his stress.

“no, mateo-”

“leo! leo! where the hell are you, you lug nut of a boy?!” y/n’s voice called, causing leo’s head to instantly shoot up and look around for y/n. he sprinted out of the alley, leaving mateo with no other choice but to follow, still confused but wanting to be near the boy. he looked up and down the street before catching a glance of y/n, gripping her shoulder and her sword firmly held in her hand. leo’s body tensed and he quickly made his way to her, allowing the girl to sink against his chest. leo pulled her hand back, wincing at the claw marks that easily cut through her tank top and shoulder.

“stupid, stupid girl. i thought i told you to be safe,” leo growled at her, reaching into his pocket, magically producing a water bottle. y/n rolled her eyes at him, her teeth gritted.

“i’d like to see you try and take a nemean lion on by yourself, fire boy,” y/n huffed, her eyes trained on her shoulder as leo poured the water on it. the wound seemed to begin healing itself, not so much as a faint scar left behind.

“i’m asleep. i’m just dreaming. this isn’t real,” mateo muttered as his eyes stayed trained on y/n’s rapidly disappearing wound. y/n’s eyes jolted to him before frowning up at leo.

“why would you-”

“he saw the lion. it was out of my control,” leo justified.

“whatever. i got the hair clip but that lion can’t just be out on the streets,” y/n huffed, pulling the hair clip out of her back pocket and presenting it to leo, who took it with a grimace.

“all this for that measly thing,” he complained and y/n nodded in agreement as she twisted her blade again, pulling it into an up right position.

“don’t let aphrodite hear you say that,” the girl mused, in a sing songy voice and with a tight smile. leo huffed at her, glaring before the lion roared from what could have only been a few streets over.

"you got a plan?" questioned y/n, looking up at leo, who scrunched his face up in thought.

"nah, got nothing, you?" he jokes with a wide smile that told you that he was lying.

"look, i'm not the smart one here. that's your job. where do you want me, cog head?"

"that's a new one," leo mused with a smile before explain his rather lame plan, but a plan none the less. and mateo just stood there, looking between the two like it was an intense tennis match. he wasn’t exactly sure what he was supposed to do while they made this big huge mastermind plan, but leo could sense the worry basically oozing off him.

“mateo, stay with y/n or i and you’ll be fine," leo told him, clapping the older boy on the shoulder with a serious look, "preferably with y/n, she's a better fighter than me."

"plus, i've got motive to keep you alive! you still owe me baby pics," you joke, grabbing hold of mateo's wrist and gently leading him towards the alley you were supposed to hide in.

the plan was relatively simple. leo stood in the street and drew the lions attention until it was close enough for y/n to go in for the kill. easy peasy, lemon squeezy. except for the fact that the lion was a tad bit smarter than they gave it credit for and it instantly sought out y/n, despite leo's best efforts to look like a tastey demigod. though, it wasn't all that terrible as y/n burst open an nearby water tank, dousing the lion and blinding it for a few seconds, giving her time to swing her sword with a groan. it burst into glittering ash, fluttering into the air as y/n swatted it away, refusing to breathe it in.

"all good?" leo called, sopping wet but better that than dead. y/n giggled at his state before holding up a thumbs up, shrinking her sword back into a charm on her bracelet before turning to mateo. he was also soaked but he didn't seem to mind so much as he stared at where the lion had been a few seconds ago.

"...are you alright, mateo?" y/n questioned hesitantly, reaching a hand out and setting it against his shoulder softly.

"i- i'm okay but- what the hell is going on??" he hissed out as he felt his shirt rapidly drying, looking down and watching the water seemingly seep from his shirt into the girl's hand, where she waved it away to spalt against the ground.

"i think leo and i have some explaining to do," the girl reasoned as she did a similar process to leo's shirt.

"obviously," mateo bit out before taking a calming breath and looking at the two teens, who looked rather disappointed in themselves, "alright, alright. here's what were gonna do. you two can come home with me and explain all of this. spend a night or two or however many nights it takes to explain all of this. c'mon, it's this way."

it was a long walk but the trio filled it with plenty of explanation from y/n and leo. mateo promised to hold a open mind and he truly was trying his best, asking logical questions and really trying to understand. by the time they got to mateo's house, he was using 'gods' instead of the singular and making greek jokes like he'd been doing it his whole life. leo couldn't have been more grateful.

"honey, i'm home! with company!" mateo called as he swung his door open, leo and y/n hearing the distinct sound of little footsteps slapping against hardwood.

"daddy!" three voices cheered in near unison, launching themselves into their father's arms, who kneeled to squeeze them tight to his chest. his wife followed, smiling as she took in the sight before looking up and taking a second look at y/n and leo, who waved awkwardly

"oh, goodness! are you- leo?? oh, welcome home, buddy!" she cheered, moving past her kids and pulling leo into a tight hold, pressing a kiss to his scalp. leo wound his arms around the woman, another ghost of the past that he was more then happy to see. mrs. cruz then turned to y/n, pulling her into a tight squeeze as well before letting go and introducing her kids.

the kids took to the pair of teens like a sponge to water. while the cruz couple slaved away over dinner, y/n and leo were running around outside with the kids, playing some version of tag that leo didn't remember the rules to anymore. y/n had the youngest girl held in her arms, swaying her back and forth when she caught leo's eye, beaming a soft smile at him before giggling as the girl laid her hands on her cheeks. and leo's heart clenched, knowing he'd rather burn the whole world than live without the daughter of poseidon. then the two boys managed to tug leo down into the grass, laughing as they clambered onto his chest.

"dinner's ready, kids!" mateo teased from the doorway, drawing all five pairs of eyes to himself. the kids scrambled inside and y/n helped leo off the ground, earning her a kiss to the cheek as he pulled her into the house.

traditional hispanic meals were scattered across the table, leo explain each one to his girl as he went, giving suggestions as he filled his plate. he didn't realize how much he'd missed it until he took the first bite. obviously, it wasn't the same as his mom's, but it came pretty damn close. then the kids bedtime came, leo and y/n helping as they insisted.

mateo and his wife didn't really have a spare bedroom to offer to the pair but they were more than happy to sleep on the couch, knowing they've slept in worst places. but, before turning in for the night, mateo passed a scrap book over to y/n, giving her a warm smile and wink before setting into a seat next to her. for the next hour or so, mateo explained every photo and told every embarrassing story he could, despite leo's many protests. he even pulled a few from the book, gifting them to her, smiling as she clutched them to her chest like it was her prized possession.

"no, no, that's not what happened at all!!" leo insisted following a rather embarrassing story, his blooming blushing giving away the fact that he was now lying.

"believe what you want, leo, but that is what happened," laughed mateo, gently shutting the scrapbook as he yawned. he glanced between the tired pair, watching as you snuggled closer to leo, who leaned down and pressed a sleep kiss to your temple.

"i just- i gotta say, man, having you back home...it's nice, leo. we've missed you so- so much," admitted mateo, coughing down his emotions but leo could read it on his face.

"i'm glad to be back. gods, yeah, i'm happy to be here too," replied leo, nodding his head like he was confirming with himself too before beaming a smile at the older boy.

"well, sleep well, you two. hasta mañana," mused mateo before heading off to his room, faint similar calls coming from the teens.

the girl was aslready half asleep against leo's chest, yawn once more as she resting her hand above his heart and tucked her face into the junction between his neck and throat. leo's hands found her waist like a magnet to metal, slipping under her shirt and simply resting his fingers against her skin. he knew she was sleepy, which is why he said his next words.

"i love you, so so much. thank you for...all of this"

murmurs back of similar words is all he got in return, bring a small smile to his lips. she was all he needed, even when she was sleepy and drooling into his collarbone. he was certain he'd never loved someone like this and never would again.

and in the morning, the pair would decline mateo's offer for breakfast and leave, not without getting their phone number and address, forcing leo to promise to call or send letters within the week. then, y/n would make the offer of getting flowers and visiting his mom's grave. the tightening of leo's chest was back again but this time it didn't hurt so much. it was nearly warm and more of a pounding against his chest. a feeling he, strangely enough, wanted to keep around.

so, the pair of demigods bought flowers and y/n hung back, leaving leo with a comforting smile and allowing him alone time with his mom. and leo took it, sitting criss cross and raving about how much she would have loved y/n. how much he wished they could have met. how much he missed her. how different he felt, back in his hometown but not even sure if he could call it that anymore with how long he's been away. how much he wanted to love this place in the same way he did at seven, but he's forgotten the way. he left without saying goodbye, knowing he'd be back. he found the daughter of poseidon, leaning against a nearby fountain with a tilt of her head. he took her hand into his, offering a smile.

"let's go home, yeah?"

Just trust me, you'll be fine And when I'm back in Chicago, I feel it Another version of me, I was in it I wave goodbye to the end of beginning

[pythonees]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ GUTS — johnny slaughter

WARNINGS: 18+, you're shorter than johnny in this (wiki says he's 6ft), f!soft-bodied!reader, sadistic!johnny (this man thrives off of other peoples pain he would enjoy it in bed too), light knife play, blood play, kidnapping, coercion, crying, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, creampie, typical tcm shit

A/N: please do not flag this for no reason, just block me. flagging my work as mature means it isn't seen by as many people in the tags when searched. Also!!!!, this is really long for no reason (4k words) AND I already have a multi part no slasher!AU in the works that's gonna be bordering on 10 chapters, knowing me it'll eternally be a wip tho...

Taking in a shaky breath, you hold it, willing the pounding of your heart to calm down as you listen for any movement around you. All you hear is the sounds of the forest, but still you sit and wait. You had been separated from the others that you had escaped with, though you suppose separated is the wrong word to use in this situation.

One of the girls that had been captured with you, a tall girl with matted brown hair and milky, bruise covered skin, had shoved you the second she had heard a noise from one of your kidnappers as they gained up on you. You had fallen down a pretty steep slope, thankfully lost in the heavy foliage that covered the ground and shrouded you instead of becoming the bait she wanted you to be.

It takes you more time than you would like to admit to get your bearings back, unable to see anything from under a bush. It hurts to breathe, and your vision is hazy from hitting your head on the way down. There's the sound of a too close chainsaw revving up above you, making the pounding of your head worsen, followed by the screams of the traitor that shoved you down the slope.

"Please, please, don't do this. I haven't done anything wrong!" She cries, as if she didn't just try to trade your life in for her own. You wince when you hear her scream again, drowned out by the chainsaw cutting through her flesh and blood splattering onto every nearby surface. The sound has your stomach curling, but a part of you feels that she had it coming for what she did to you.

When the stomping of the mask wearing man's feet are a distant, you allow yourself to breathe more comfortably, loosening up your death grip on the old piece of pipe you had grabbed as a weapon when you got out of your restraints. Your fingers ache, knuckles popping as they relax for the first time in what has felt like hours.

"That's what you get, twig ass bitch," you mutter under your breath. When your heart beat finally goes back to a more normal level, and you don't feel like you're about to shake out of your skin, you slowly drag yourself out from the brush, looking around the slowly darkening woods for a way to go.

Readjusting your grip on the pipe, you slowly make your way away from the chaos, hoping that they don't look down here for you.

You don't know where you're going or how far you've gotten, all you know is that you greatly regret putting on a skirt yesterday morning. Not only has it gotten caught on just about everything while you've been running for your life, but the humid Texas heat has caused your thighs to chafe something fierce, and it's starting to sting more than the cuts that litter your arms and torso.

Eventually, you find a shallow stream, and you quickly stumble your way to it. Dipping your fingers in, you sigh at the cool water against your sweaty skin. You carefully scoop some up into your hands, not wanting to make any noise as you press your face into your cupped hands.

There's a faint ribbon of red that you watch slowly get mixed into the water, and you dump it into the stream, watching it quickly disappear. You scoop up another cool batch of water, careful to keep any from spilling through your shaking fingers. It's as you're bringing your hands up to sip from the water that you feel all the hair on your body stand up on end, heart racing.

Looking into the trees, you slowly stand up, turning in place. You can't really see anything, but you know you're not crazy. You also know that you're absolutely fucked. The forest is not something you find yourself in often, or at all, really, and considering it borders onto these crazy fuckers property... they probably knew where you were the whole time.

You want to yell, to scream out your frustrations onto whoever it is that's following you. But your voice is dry, and even breathing has started to feel like too much, your voice cracking around the whispered words, "I-" you swallow roughly, eyes frantically looking around, "I know you're there."

You hear nothing around you, but you know. There are eyes on you. Just how close... you have no idea.

The next breath you take is shaky, eyes watering as you hop over the little stream. Taking another look around you and still finding nothing, you continue on your way.

Crickets jump around you as you carefully make your way to what you hope is safety, spooking you every time they jump in front of your vision. You're struggling for air as the mounting panic starts to cloud your senses, breaths coming in rushed puffs. Your heart is pounding in your ears, so loud that you don't hear the sound of someone walking behind you.

You let out a scream when the back of your shirt is grabbed and yanked, thrusting your elbow back as hard as possible and hitting them in the stomach. There isn't any give, a hard plane of muscle that probably hurts you more than them.

"Well! Look who we've got here!" The man says, a laugh coating his voice. His hand twists in your shirt, the collar of it tightening around your throat. With a rough yank your back is flush against his chest, and you catch the glint of his knife as he presses his fist into your stomach, the tip of the blade nicking the underside of your breast.

You hiss in pain, flinching away from the blade and bumping into his chest. The nearly too tight grip he has on your shirt disappears, but you aren't able to take a breath before that hand has come around to grip at your throat. The thick expanse of his calloused fingers press into your smooth skin, the pressure your neck a warning that has you freezing on the spot.

His fingers flutter, pressing into the sides of your throat, and the breathy sound you let out has both of you freezing in place. His chest pushes against your back as he takes in a deep breath, the exhale painting goosebumps along your damp neck. The man's grip loosens just slightly, before squeezing again. Another moan is pulled from you, and you can feel the man laugh against your back, the low tone sending shivers down your spine.

"Oh, am I gonna 'ave fun with you." The man drops the hand from around your throat, using it to grip your upper arm, steering you back the way you came. The tip of his blade is still scraping your skin, the constant pain seeming to send shocks all over your body. He takes a sharp turn that you aren't prepared for, a gasp leaving you as he shoves you up against a particularly thick tree.

The blade in his hand is dropped to the forest floor, his left hand cupping your cheek roughly as he directs your face up to his. His brown eyes are impossibly dark as they take you in, free hand palming your waist. He’s hiked up your flowy, flower patterned shirt, his big hand sliding up your torso to thumb at the cut under your breast.

You hiss in pain, but that only seems to excite him, the man bringing his blood covered thumb up to his lips, tongue poking out to guide the appendage into his mouth. The low moan that escapes him has you clenching your thighs together, eyes wide as you watch his thumb slide out of his mouth, traces of your bright red blood left on his tongue.

“Fuck, best thing 've ever tasted,” he mutters, hands moving to collect more of the slow trickling blood. Your hands are shaky as they grip onto his blood stained tank top, watching his face as he stares down at his hand, thick fingers disappearing into the meat of your breast instead of swiping up more of your blood.

He dips his head down to mouth at your neck, teeth unforgiving against your skin. His tight grip on you and the tree at your back keeps you from flinching away, at his mercy as his teeth work at your flesh. He doesn't break skin, but it's a near thing, a bruise no doubt starting to form already.

“Ah, hurts,” you whine, tears prickling at the corner of your eyes. Despite the pain, you don't try to push him away, hands steadily holding his black tank. Hot puffs of breath dance over your damp skin as he laughs, running his tongue over the bruised flesh before pulling back to look at you.

“That so?” Hesitantly, you nod, heart pounding as you let your weight fully rest up against the tree, breathing shaky as his previously idle hand starts to palm at your breast. His large hand seems to engulf you, and you can't help but push into his touch. He's rough with this too, as you suspect he is with all things, groping you while he watches on with a satisfied look on his face.

Slowly, your fingers unclench from his shirt, and you press your hand flat against his chest. You can feel his warmth even through his shirt, hands trailing absently over his defined pecs. You watch your hands move as he chuckles, eyes flicking up to find him smirking down at you.

“Pretty little thing like you,” he starts, thumb running along your cheekbone, “bet you're sweet all over, ain't ya?"

The next breath you take is shaky, eyes wide and glassy as you stare up at him. He hums, head tilting as he observes you.

“Wanna know what I think?” He whispers, head dipping down again. This time he doesn't bite you, though there's still a twinge of pain as he sucks over the bruises his teeth had made. Your response is lost in your gasp, knees buckling at the unexpected current of pleasure that wracks through you. If it weren't for him pressing you against the tree, you would probably be on the ground right now.

“Think I'm gonna keep you all to myself. You'd be my good girl, won't you?” He moves up to mouth at your jaw, wet open mouthed kisses following his path to your mouth, “Whaddya say, think you could be Johnny's good girl?”

Through the fear pumping through you at the thought of what would happen to you if you said no, there's a part of you, a sick and twisted part, that really, desperately wants to succumb to this sadistic man's whims. You know saying yes would be just as bad as what will happen if you say no. There's no knowing what he would do to you, but that part of you frankly doesn't care.

“Please,” you whisper, letting your hands wrap around his broad torso, palms flat against his back as you press his muscular body against yours, as if he could get any closer, “so good. I'll be your good girl.”

You don't fight the hand on your face as he guides you, eyes fluttering at the close proximity of your faces. Johnny's eyes are crinkled at the corners, his smirk pressed against the corner of your mouth, “Good.”

Johnny's lips are aggressive as they press against yours, seeming to consume you as his tongue bullies its way into your mouth. There's nothing you can do but endure the attack, moaning and gasping into his mouth as his other hand continues to grope you.

Overwhelmed by the force of his kiss, you can't keep yourself still. Tree bark scrapes your skin with every shudder his skillful tongue pulls from you, but you barely feel it. All you feel is him, his all encompassing presence that looms over you and threatens to consume your very being.

Through his jeans and your skirt, you can feel his erection pressing into your lower stomach as you shift against him. The feeling of it seems to awaken something in you, a primal urge you've never felt before, your hands dropping from his back to pathetically fumble at the bottom of his tank. Once you get your hands on his skin you can't keep them still, running them up and down the warm expanse of his back.

You can feel slight imperfections on his skin, long lines of damaged flesh that match the scars on his face. You trace over them, letting your nails trail over his skin in your exploration. There's barely enough space between you to breathe, but somehow you're able to wedge your arms between the two of you to trace over his stomach.

The skin there is soft, though you can still feel the faint definition of the muscles beneath. You continue to run your hands up, though just as your fingers dance along his pecks the hand groping you is instantly grabbing your wrist, yanking it out and pressing your hand roughly against the tree next to your head.

“Not yet, I ‘ain't had my fun,” he mumbles against your neck, giving your bottom lip a little nip before he pulls away completely. He lets go of your hand, the other dropping from your face to pull up the bottom of your skirt. His big hands palm at your ass, fingers harsh as they squeeze.

All too soon he's stepping back from you, arms crossed as his eyes drag over your form. You feel squirmy under his gaze, fingers fidgeting with each other as you wait for him to say or do anything.

“Y’look like you have too much clothes on,” he says, and you can hear the hidden command in his words. You're quick to ruck your shirt over your head, the thin lace bra sticking to your sweaty skin. Trembling fingers take longer than you'd like to work the button of your skirt, though once that's open you're able to shove it down over plush thighs, letting it fall to the forest floor.

“That's it darlin’, why don't you get laid out real nice for me, huh?” He's leering at you, watching the way your body moves as you sit down on the forest floor. He seems to enjoy watching you follow his every command, hand absently palming his erection the whole time.

You're careful as you lay down, making sure to stuff your now dirt covered clothes underneath you as some sort of padding. There's still rocks and sticks that make it uncomfortably uneven, but at least they won't be cutting into your skin. Once you're settled, thighs clenched tight and hands fidgeting on your stomach, you look up at Johnny as you wait for instructions.

He hums, taking the few steps needed to stand at your feet, “Good girl.”

You can't keep the pleased hum down, watching him with wide eyes as he start's unbuckling his belt. He doesn't bother to take it off though, undoing the button and zipper before he's kneeling at your feet.

He plants both hands on your knees, pushing them open to stare down at you. You know you're wet, you can feel the fabric of your panties sticking to your skin uncomfortably. There's probably a wet spot too, and you turn your head away when you notice the smug look on his face.

A thick finger presses right over your hole, going as deep as the fabric can allow. Your pussy clenched at the intrusion, desperate for him to fill you. Rolling your hips up, you try to force the finger deeper, huffing when he pulls away.

“What a desperate little thing, hmm?” He slips a finger through the crotch of your panties, pulling them off of you roughly. You lift your hips to help aid the process, hands falling between your legs to cover yourself up.

"Thought you wanted to be my good girl," Johnny says, hand coming up to gently cradle the side of your face, a sharp contrast to his mean glare and condescending tone that he directs at you. Your heart pounds in your chest, legs falling open to allow him enough space to shuffle forward.

"I do. I- I am," you manage to choke out, slowly pulling your hands away from where you were covering yourself. Instead you fist them in his dirty shirt to try and bring his mouth down to yours, whining when he doesn't budge at your insistent tugging.

The smirk that spreads over his face sends a shiver down your spine, and his thumb glides down your cheek to prod at your kiss swollen lips. He tugs the bottom lip down, pressing the pad of his thumb roughly against your tender flesh.

"Open," he commands, and you do so without a thought. He's slow as he eases his thumb into your mouth, letting you lave your tongue over his calloused skin before it's easing further into your mouth. His thumb, thick and long and big like the rest of his fingers, teases at the back of your throat, and you feel tears collecting as you fight back the urge to gag at the intrusion.

He takes pity on you, slowly pulling his thick thumb from your mouth to then harshly press it against your clit. The rough pressure has your hips bucking, not knowing if you want to roll up against the touch or pull away. Johnny doesn't give you an option either way, thick fingers practically disappearing into your thigh to keep you still, gripping so hard you're surprised they haven't torn through your flesh.

You can't stop the desperate sounds that fall from your lips, your pleas garbled as your legs fall further open. His blunt nails scrape the delicate flesh above your clit as he abuses your sex, drawing loud, drawn out whines as you writhe on the forest floor. Johnny only seems to thrive on your suffering, shifting so that he can press two fingers into you at the same time. You're embarrassingly wet, so they easily slide in despite how thick his fingers are, relieving the empty feeling that has settled over you.

“Fuck, woman, you're wetter than all hell,” he's sat back to watch the way your cunt greedily sucks his fingers in, hips rolling down to match the thrusting of his fingers. Wet squelching fills the forest, your soft, breathy gasps barely heard over the sound.

Johnny crowds into your space, leaving a trail of bites up your neck and to your lips. The kiss is rough, teeth clicking together from the rough treatment before he comes in at a better angle. It's dirty and sloppy and wet, teeth biting at your bottom lip every time he pulls back to take a breath.

It's too much, a sensory overload that has your brain turning to mush. His fingers curl aggressively inside you, thumb rubbing painful circles on your clit. Slowly, your hands release the death grip they have on his shirt, unsteady as they move to thread through his short hair. The tight grip you have on his hair has him growling out a warning, the nip he gives to your lip drawing blood.

You hastily grab onto the back of his shirt, tears blurring your vision as you pull back from his lips with a desperate gasp. Heaving breaths escape your lips, moans and whines tumbling into pleas as you beg him not to stop. He presses a kiss to your forehead that's more teeth than lips because of his wide grin, a dark chuckle following soon after.

Hips rolling desperately into his touch, you chase the orgasm you can feel building.

“That's it, give it to me,” his voice is low, and the command sends a shiver down your spine, cunt clenching around his fingers. Your gasps get stuck in your throat, high pitched whines drowning out the sound of your arousal as you cum.

Johnny doesn't let up even after you've cum, fingers working at you at a brutal pace, bringing another orgasm that hurts as much as it feels good. You try in vain to pull away from his touch, but he just holds your hips down with his free hand, fingers working ruthlessly as you twitch and cry.

“Good girl,” Johnny finally lets up, pulling his soaked hand from between your legs. He licks a long stripe up his fingers, chuckling at the fucked out look on your face, “sweet as honey.”

You can't do much more than lay there watching him as he sits back on his heels, quickly pulling his tank top up over his head. His chest is littered with scars, and you can't help the way your eyes trace over each pale line that decorates his skin. They look like they were painful, and you're brushing a hand over one before you can even think.

Thankfully he doesn't get mad at you touching him this time, silent as he lets you explore. His skin is warm and surprisingly soft, a light dusting of hair trailing down from his belly button and disappearing into his pants. You let your nails trail through the hair, relishing in the deep sound that rumbles in his throat.

Lips pulled between your teeth, you can't help but admire the way his arms move as he works on pushing down his jeans. The muscles move under the flesh, arm as sturdy looking as the rest of him. You tug on the band of his jeans, inching them down over his legs, eyes laser focused onto his cock, no underwear in sight.

Your fingers wrap around his erection easily, swiping your thumb over the angry red head to collect the wetness there. The groan he lets out is heavenly, but he grabs your wrist and pulls your hand from him.

“We don't have the time for that right now, darlin’,” he says, shoving them down the rest of the way and kicking them off to the side. He pushes your legs up and open by the underside of your knees, shuffling forward to fill the empty space, “Now you be a good girl and hold these legs open for me, an’ I'll be makin’ you scream in no time.”

He lets go of your trembling legs the second you reach for them, grabbing the base of his dick and rubbing the tip through your folds, left forearm resting on the ground next to your head. It catches on your fluttering hole with every pass, a tease that has you whining for more, rocking your hips as much as you can.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity but has only been a few seconds, he slides into you, letting go of his dick to rest his arm on the other side of your head. The stretch is painful, and you instinctively clench around the intrusion. He doesn't stop, merely laughing at your wince as his hips settle against yours.

There's no grace period given. His hips are pulling back before you can adjust to his girth, drilling into you with a deep and brutal pace that has you wailing. You can feel the sharp sting of your nails from how hard you're clenching your thighs, the pain seeming to heighten your pleasure.

Johnny's grin is wide and full of teeth, you can feel it against your neck. Then he's digging his teeth into the flesh, abusing the bruised flesh. You can't feel it though, lost in the haze of his cock pounding into you. You feel the breath being knocked out of you with every thrust, eyes blurry with the onset of tears.

Your throat hurts from your wailing, pleas barely distinguish whenever you're able to attempt speaking. Johnny either doesn't understand you or doesn't care enough to figure it out, laughing at your babbling. When he pulls back you can see blood on his lips and teeth, and then you feel the sting of the bite he left on you.

Johnny presses his lips to yours as your face scrunched up in pain, the coppery taste of your blood lingering even after he pulls away. You chase the taste off your lips with your tongue, unable to follow his lips as he sits up.

“Fuck,” he drawls, the voice drawn out as he bottoms out in you, watching the way your hips twitch to try and get any sort of friction, “fuckin’ soaked through that pretty little skirt you got layers out under you, best pussy I've ever had.”

Then there's a large hand fisting the hair at the back of your head, yanking your head back. Your yelp of pain is drowned out by the obscene sounds coming from your pussy while Johnny uses you as if you were a toy. Pace bordering on brutal, you hold onto your sweat dampened thighs as he chases his high.

He licks and nibbles at the still bleeding wound on your neck, drinking from you as his thrusts shift you across the forest floor. The salt from your tears sting as it hits the bite marks that cover your neck, a loud moan following when the taste of salt hits Johnny's tongue.

Thrusts becoming erratic, your only warning is his teeth clamping down on the side of your neck before you feel the liquid heat of Johnny’s cum filling you in bursts, pushed deeper into you by tiny thrusts. It's only when he finally stills inside of you that you are able to breath, taking big gasps as you gather yourself.

“Mmm, what a good girl you are,” Johnny mumbles against your neck, pulling back to look you over. You probably look a mess, hair frizzy from the heat and being yanked on by Johnny. You're also covered in blood, though Johnny probably relishes in the fact that he put it there. It's when his gaze settles on where you're still connected that you feel your face heat in embarrassment.

As he pulls out you can't help the way you whimper, desperate for him to fill you back up despite how tender your abused sex feels. The trail of cum that follows is quickly stuffed back into you by two thick fingers, plugging you up with his cum.

Large hands slide under your ass, tacky with your arousal. Your hands fall away from your thighs in surprise as he lifts your lower body off the ground so that you're resting on your shoulders.

“Probably tastes even better mixed with me,” he mumbles more to himself than to you. As Johnny licks a long stripe up from your fluttering, dripping hole to your clit, you find yourself melting into the pleasure that he is giving you, no longer caring about what will become of you when he's had his fill.

©︎ pythonees — do not, under any circumstance, repost, plagiarize, modify or translate my work.

[laylajeffany]

Crying at the Texas Roadhouse | Wenclair One-Shot for @cruciokilljoy

Rating: G WC: 4,500 Summary: Enid’s feelings are hurt and Wednesday tries to resolve them, requiring her to find her soft spot (in public) when Enid starts sobbing in the middle of a chain restaurant in Jericho. Enid's POV, established relationship, unrelated to any of my multi-chapter work TW: Esther Sinclair being herself

@cruciokilljoy You were probably looking for more physical hurt/comfort but both my multi-chap fics have explored that pretty throughly and I am tired of writing the girls in physical pain so I put them through emotional pain instead. Certainly not based on actual, recent conversations with my own hateful mother not at all ☠️

“You were crying.”

Duh.

“Like, an hour ago,” Enid clarified, looking at Wednesday as she stepped into their room with her jacket draped over her arm, sleeves rolled up, hands filthy. She could only imagine what her girlfriend had gotten into (literally, looking at the caked-on mud on her Oxfords that ran up to her stocking-covered knees). “I hardly think that’s the most pressing thing we need to talk about. Why are you covered in dirt?”

“Mud wrestling,” Wednesday replied dryly.

“Not enough on you for that.” Enid rolled her eyes and crossed her sweater-covered arms. She almost didn’t want to know but would certainly rather discuss Wednesday's potentially illegal antics than herself after the challenging evening that she’d already had.

She wasn’t in the mood for bickering, either way - so maybe quiet time would be best.

“Why were you upset?” Clearly, she wasn't going to drop it with her own deflection. Wednesday draped her jacket over the side of her desk chair and toed off her muddy shoes, forcing her to lose the small boost of lift they gave her, putting her squarely two inches beneath Enid. She stood directly in front of her, a kiss away – bearing into Enid with her eyes and forcing truth out of her.

Knowing her lower lip trembled a little, hating her tells and trying to frown the feelings away, Enid looked at her own feet. There was no use lying to Wednesday about an actually serious subject when the evidence was still in the bloodshot veins of her eyes. “My mother called. It was…it’s just always upsetting,” She glanced back up with a forced, sad smile. Wednesday’s eyes lost their intensity from curiosity, but gained something that was largely new for her – sympathy.

How Enid hated it. Deciding to dangle a tantalizing offer in front of her, she forced her pitch to remain neutral as she stated, “I don’t want to dwell on it. Can we skip the part where I rehash how my mom is a miserable person and…just go to dinner? You could edit my lycan paper after, I could use the help…”

Wednesday’s stare continued to be gentle and Enid was about ready to march out of the room if she didn’t quit. She couldn’t stand that. “Stop, please? Wednesday, honestly. I don’t want to talk about it. And I don’t want you to pacify me this evening. My mother always manages to upset me. And even if I stand up to her on the phone, I sometimes need to cry it out after. It’s like…” Deciding to use a weapon analogy, Enid expressed, “Like a fuse. She lit it, I detonated on her, and now there’s some debris to clean up, but I’m actually fine. I want to move on.”

Obviously a little put out by the way her jaw shifted just slightly, Wednesday disappeared wordlessly, returning from the community washroom down the hall with clean hands and sans her stockings, which Enid assumed she’d tossed rather than get any more flak from the on-site laundry service about soiling other people’s clothing.

She disappeared into her closet, coming out in a pair of wide-legged pants and an oversized black sweatshirt that fell nearly to her knees. If Enid could hide her emotions, she supposed she couldn’t comment on Wednesday hiding her body.

To her surprise, Wednesday actually let her not speak about her feelings and folded a hand into hers as she waved to Thing, nonverbally communicating that she wanted to be alone with Enid. Thing had been quite helpful to the whole affair – had heard her mother’s hurtful words, passed her tissues after she finished crying into her pillow, patted her back sweetly…

Wednesday led her to the foyer but didn’t turn to the right to take them to the cafeteria. Enid blinked a few times when Wednesday tugged her right out the front door and down the front steps. Confused, and really not in the mood to go investigating anything, particularly to discover whatever had Wednesday so dirty, Enid whined a little, “Can’t we just eat?”

“It’s Monday,” Her voice was just a touch darker than it had been in their room. “Nevermore’s infamous attempt at cowering to the vegetarians is tonight, and I don’t think their imitation beef is going to help you feel any better. We’re heading into town – I’m getting you a steak.” Well, that certainly perked her up just a little bit. “Withdrawing red meat once a week in an effort to be more environmentally friendly when ten percent of the student campus requires it as part of their metabolic diet is cruel, performative activism and we don’t need to be part of it. It makes as much sense as banning plastic straws. You don’t create systems change by following trends. Meatless Monday is going to meet my full-meat fist one of these days. But tonight, we’re going to crush peanut shells underfoot at a chain restaurant instead.”

More than okay with getting that salty coating in between the grooves of her furry, pink boots, Enid pulled Wednesday to her in a hug when they arrived to the edge of the forest trail that would take them into Jericho. Wednesday sucked in a breath of surprise at being forced into her hold but returned it after just a second of processing what was happening to her. “I don’t mean to take my bad mood out on you,” Enid apologized.

“I do it to you all the time,” Wednesday mumbled into her shoulder, sighing as she hooked her arms around her middle, hanging on just as tightly. “Usually for far-less valid reasons.” She pulled away to put her palms on Enid’s shoulders and met her eyes without that sympathy…instead…

Wednesday’s brown gaze in the setting sun was highly empathetic and made Enid drop half the tension in her shoulders. “I might also be a little hangry,” She confessed as her stomach roared suddenly between them.

There was a flirtation of a smirk on Wednesday’s lips at the noise and she said nothing, merely took her hand again, leading them boldly through the woods for a twenty-minute walk into town.

Enid swore she felt better just at the sight of the neon lights outlining the state of Texas with a cowboy hat perched on top of it when the restaurant was in view. Inside promised at least a feeling of satisfaction for the wolf within her, and that could often soften the meltdown of her personhood, too.

“Two, please,” Wednesday politely replied when the hostess, a too-cool Jericho High student with rapidly growing roots sticking out of her bleach blonde hair snapped her gum and looked irritated to have to ask how many were in their party.

Holding back her own growl of irritation, Enid would admit, she was relatively surprised by how well-behaved Wednesday could be in spaces like public restaurants. She often claimed that staff were simply victims of the State or something about labor rights, and generally tipped far more than Enid would’ve thought that they had earned.

Enid watched a basket of rolls be taken into a waitress’ hands and swallowed the saliva that threatened to slip out of her lips, thinking Wednesday was about to drop her hand as she often did in public – but not that day. She must’ve sensed some of her mother’s conversation had been about, willing to take on any bigot that might’ve had something to say about the two of them in a relationship. Vermont might’ve been one of the more progressive states in the country, but – certainly, so was California, and her mother had a whole lot to say from there that evening…

Once they were seated, Enid took a roll without waiting even a beat for the young woman who would be taking care of them to go through her required spiel, while Wednesday simply gave a curt nod at her before giving all of her attention to Enid as she went to return with water. (Enid could hardly wait for the day she could down one of those massive margaritas in the advertisements all over the establishment.)

She was halfway through with her first roll when Wednesday’s harsh stare asked the question before she needed to confirm, “You missed lunch with that extra dance practice today.”

“I’m sorry,” Enid said, just about ready to own up to anything – even things she hadn’t done, in an effort to just keep everyone from blowing up at her anymore that day. She really couldn’t handle Wednesday being frustrated with her, too -  

“Next time, tell me,” Wednesday ordered, her voice clipped; Enid stared hard at the rings on the wooden, lacquered tabletop, willing her next round of sadness to stay internal. “I’ll bring you something to class. Don’t apologize to me.”

About to say ‘sorry’ again, Enid just bit her lip, seeing the tears that were threatening to well up in her gaze. She tried to blink them away, and was grateful when the waitress asked if they needed more time with the menu when she brought their water over. Enid just shook her head, while Wednesday started, then said her name in a very gentle tone – and all the up and down of soft and hard was really –

“Um, the twelve-ounce New York strip, please – rare.”

“You know that means pink, possibly bloo-”

Wednesday was quick to defend her. “She knows what her body requires.”

Enid let out a shuddered breath, quietly asking for her sides before the waitress left. Wednesday reached across the table and took both of Enid’s hands, clearly needing to understand more about what was making her act so small and miserable. “Tell me what your mother said.”

“I don’t want to think about it,” Enid argued, feeling her tone rising as hysteria was pouring out of each vein, flooding her body.

“You obviously already are. It’s weighing on you. Release the burden, and you’ll feel relief.”

As the first tear fell, Wednesday’s face contorted from intensity and certainty to overwhelmed and near helplessness as she obviously hadn't thought through the fact that Enid was going to cry in public. She squeezed Enid’s hands, but the gesture only caused the second one to dribble, then the third, and the fourth, and Enid brought her sweater up over her face to keep from letting out an audible sob in the restaurant.

Thankfully, Wednesday had some sort of awareness about what to do – they’d been dating for months and friends for so long, she’d seen her fair share of Enid’s breakdowns and generally knew what did and didn’t help. When the preventative measures clearly weren’t working that Monday, she stood up and rounded to the space beside her, putting an arm around her and letting Enid fold herself into her chest. The unexpected display of affection was actually bringing out even more of her release. God – that hug to soothe her emotions into was exactly what Enid needed, and the fact that Wednesday had it in her to be soft enough around her to let her break down, in a half-full restaurant, into her arms? She loved her more than anything, and Enid knew that, she just wished, maybe – well, Wednesday was probably right. She did just need to talk about it to work through it.

When she met the black strings of her hoodie, Enid knew she let out a cry of a sniffly sound. It was embarrassing, devastating, really, to be having a full breakdown at the Texas Roadhouse. But Wednesday had been determined to try and make her feel better that evening and was going to have to finish what she started, even if that meant snuggling her in a vinyl-covered booth while the waitress awkwardly put their salads down on the same side of the table a few minutes after the crying began.

Wednesday unrolled one of the fabric napkins, shaking out a knife and the forks. For a brief, split-second, Enid thought she really might eat one-handed while she continued to snivel all over her chest, but Wednesday instead used the square to dab Enid’s cheeks, soaking up the tears that hadn’t been absorbed into her sweatshirt. She adjusted her hold on her girlfriend and looked at her with something new –

Sincerity.

Almost blubbering again, Enid just nodded, knowing it would do well to admit what Esther had said to her on the phone. “My…mother – she was …on her weekly rampage, about…everything. Nevermore, administration refusing to split us up – you not receiving any consequences from last semester…the usual. Then…it shifted,” She sniffed. “She brought up my late blooming, how I’d been so privileged to have been even have parents who cared enough to offer to send me to lycanthropy conversion camp…”

Wednesday’s hand curled on her upper thigh at that.

“And when she wasn’t getting a rise out of me for that, she dug deeper – the normal line of inane ramblings of how she couldn’t believe after all that time, ‘that Addams girl’ was what got me to shift for the first time…and, when I reminded her, ‘that Addams girl’ is Wednesday, my girlfriend, she…she…just said, ‘we don’t talk about that,’ and started bitching about the value of a Nevermore education not matching up to the price tag, not that it mattered – since none of her pack were scoring above a 3.5 on the ‘mediocre’ grading system, moved on to my scar tissue and wanting me to come home to have a consultation with a plastic surgeon for a revision procedure, and I said that wasn’t going to happen and hung up on her. Then I cried.”

Watching Wednesday respond to the entirety of the call was like discovering something new hidden in a sensory tube every other second. While she was short for words, Wednesday’s eyes always spoke volumes about what she would say if she dared to put her thoughts out verbally. Mr. Addams had described her tongue as that of a viper to Enid more than once when telling stories about her, so she was pretty sure it was often for the best that Wednesday focused on taking in all the information before reacting. She knew that Wednesday tended to get into it with administrators and authority, but at least with Enid – she was far more even-tempered in how she responded to hearing words she didn’t like.

Enid let out a long breath and picked up one of the forks that Wednesday had shaken out of the napkin, needing to channel her energy into anything but crying again. She speared leafy greens onto the tines, trying not to visualize doing the same to any of her mother’s more vulnerable body parts, for that matter – wondering which Wednesday would fantasize about ripping out first in her defense.

“I’m sorry, Enid,” Wednesday spoke through a near whisper of a tone.

Hearing those words come out of Wednesday was like hearing foreign language that she needed to interpret. Her fork fell out of her hand. Not wanting to startle her anymore, Enid brought her longing, hopeful sort of gaze to Wednesday’s. “Why are you apologizing now?”

Wednesday drew her hands into her lap, staring straight ahead. It took her some time to form her response, likely, if Enid had to guess, because of the emotion that was pooling in her own eyes. She knew her damn well enough that she wouldn’t shed anything close to a tear in public, but Wednesday was very much on the edge. It didn’t make sense – she’d done nothing wrong, aside from maybe push her into talking about it when Enid knew what that would unleash, but even then – it’s not like she had been the one to say all those hurtful things…

“I suppose I am not apologizing with my sorry. But I am sorry that I contributed to enough of your mother’s ire that she took it out on you. I’m sorry that she continues to refuse to acknowledge that you are in a non-traditional relationship, let alone demonstrate any sort of positive feeling about it. I’m sorry that she continues to bring up painful events of the past, and attempt to shame you for them, or think you should have been grateful for her wanting to send you to an abusive situation. I’m sorry that she thinks your grades aren’t good enough – you’ve got a 3.87 right now, which is Magna cum laude and I’m really proud of you for working diligently at increasing your grade point average. I’m sorry that she thinks you need plastic surgery. If you wanted to, that would be your choice. But I love your scars, and I think they’re beautiful.”

Enid could barely breathe. She wasn’t sure if Wednesday had ever said so many words consecutively, let alone that indicated her true feelings on any subject matter…that she was harboring so many about her, in particular. Trying not to let herself curl up into the faux-wooden logs that made up the side wall of their booth, Enid finally found the ability to expand her lungs and release the last of the tension she’d been harboring. “I don’t want you to feel sorry for me.”

“It’s not in pity,” Wednesday clarified. “It’s not. It’s…perhaps a feeling that I don’t have a schema for.” She gave a rare blink as she seemed to be trying to find the emotional vocabulary within her to better explain herself, staring at Enid, who was pretty sure she was going to need an inhaler by the end of dinner at the rate Wednesday was taking her breath away. Finally, she gave a nearly-invisible shrug as she further clarified, “I just know, that I love you. And I despise that anyone would attempt to make you feel small, or anything else negative, especially someone who is also supposed to love you unconditionally. And I am sorry, that you were forced to endure that. All your life. So…I’m sorry, and I hope to make it up to you.”

Tilting her head, sniffing just a little, finding the shiest hint of a smile, Enid promised in a watery whisper, “You are. Right now. You…knew that I needed to take care of myself, and that school wasn’t going to cut it, and you brought me to the Texas Roadhouse,” She let out a small bubble of a laugh. “Here, I’ll get what I need to sustain me, but while we’re waiting,” She paused, reaching over for one of Wednesday’s clasped hands, forcing them apart so they could squeeze one another’s. “You’re giving me the opportunity to release what doesn’t. Thank you, Wednesday.”

There was a new wave on Wednesday’s features – a distinct mark of relief in her gaze as she swept it, unblinking onto Enid again. “It is hardly my forte to make someone who was sad return to baseline, let alone anything akin to happiness…”

“You’ve done a pretty remarkable job for me,” Enid assured her when the waitress brought out their main courses, looking a little awkward as she put them near their still-full salad plates.

“Uh…anything else I can bring you girls?”

“A total end to the heteronormative, compulsory, traditional society we continue to find ourselves existing in,” Wednesday said without hesitating.

The waitress blinked.

Enid shook her head. “I think we’ve got anything we need, right here.”

The woman left with wide, confused eyes and Enid sighed, cutting into her steak without thinking twice, watching the red ooze out onto her plate. The sight grossed her out, but she knew it would do her body good.

Sure enough – halfway into the steak, she was feeling remarkably better already. “Try to finish it,” Wednesday prompted her. “The full moon is on Thursday, you should be nearly doubling your caloric intake.”

Kissing her cheek, earning the slightest twinge of red to her cheeks, Enid thanked her and followed through, polishing off the meat, picking at her vegetables while Wednesday ate with a distinct sort of raised-higher-class slowness that she usually did.

After finishing and watching Wednesday tip the waitress almost double what the bill had been, Enid took her hand and made it her turn to lead them – the yellow glow of a Dollar General sign across the street tempting her. “I feel like properly finishing up my breakdown by making a frivolous, five-dollar purchase.”

Wednesday’s eyes rolled but she didn’t fight her. Mid 2000s soft-pop radio was playing as they stepped into the nearly desolate discount store, one that Enid liked because of the deadstock that featured some of her favorite comfort characters from her childhood. Knowing exactly what she wanted, she led Wednesday through precariously stacked makeshift aisles of cardboard boxes filled with inventory that would be put out by the one employee working there over the course of several weeks. She hummed along to the music, singing along softly with Colbie Caillat, feeling a little bubbly herself as Wednesday refrained from spewing out comments on late-stage capitalism or some such true, but nonsensical arguing that would accomplish nothing between them. “Here they are,” She said, gesturing to a host of children’s coloring books. Wondering if Wednesday's limited access to traditional children's media would kick in, Enid playfully wondered, “Anybody look familiar to you?”

“Even someone who spent a significant portion of her childhood exploring the caves below the house like myself can recognize the ultimate example of corporate greed, the mouse that is Mickey.”

“Yikes,” Enid commented, “I’ll steer clear of the Disney characters.” Mentally retracting her statement to herself about Wednesday being able to hold back full-punch societal comments, she smirked, spotting what she wanted pretty much right away, taking a pink, Strawberry Shortcake book into her hold. “Will you color with me?”

“I cannot promise that I won’t be giving the fruitcake a makeover. And a knife.”

Giggling, then singing along a little more as she took Wednesday’s hand and wove her through the maze of mess before checking out – spending a whopping two dollars and twelve cents to achieve the final release in neurotransmitters that would complete her night.

After a walk back to Ophelia Hall that included a great production of sneaking back into the campus as they’d left without permission, Enid and Wednesday both found themselves in their pajamas and ready for bed before Enid took her art supplies out from a basket, revealing about three hundred colored pencils in different shades.

Wednesday flipped through the coloring book with a touch of a nose wrinkle, staring at the smiley, fruit-themed girls. She was going out of her way, clearly setting every intention of getting through the moment to make her girlfriend happy as she'd claimed. Finally letting out a real, whole laugh, Enid earned her perplexed stare. “You did it,” She promised. Wednesday waited and Enid winked. “You didn’t just reset me to factory settings, but you made me happy. I promise. You totally do not have to color with me. You can read or edit papers or whatever else is going to make you happy, too. So long as you’re not out solving mysteries, but here with me.”

There was a beat of relief as Wednesday took out a book she’d been reading through, curling up beside Enid, who took some creative liberties as Wednesday would have, forcing a picture of Lemon Meringue, the pigtailed character, and Strawberry Shortcake to look as close to herself and Wednesday as possible, even adding a little knife into Lemon’s hand. Wednesday let Enid pick the music, but she went with one of her playlists of cello covers as a compromise for both of them.

When she finished and flashed the coloring sheet to her girlfriend, Wednesday almost smiled, amusement evident in her eyes as she took a knife out of her pajama pocket (naturally – everyone needed a bedtime knife), evenly slicing it out of the book. She tacked it up on Enid’s bulletin board before putting all the coloring supplies away while Enid watched. Finally, she turned off all the lights except the strand of twinkling ones she’d magically learned to tolerate once they started dating.

She brought Enid to the floor-bed they’d made with a roll-away mattress that was more comfortable than cramming into either of their twin beds, lying on her back as usual, and inviting Enid to curl up with her with silence, just vague gestures – a pat of her own chest, a small nod…

“Wednesday, I love you. Thank you, for making me feel one hundred percent better. I feel even better than before my mom called,” Enid said softly, nuzzling into her.

Wednesday’s fingers instinctively wove into her hair. “I’m tempted to block her number on your phone so she can’t get a hold of you. I can’t promise that if I’m in the room the next time she calls, I won’t make her feel something about herself that is more than true.”

“Good,” Enid encouraged with a contented huff. “She deserves that.”

“You didn’t deserve what she said or attempted to do to you in the past. And I hope that…her comments about…us, don’t make you second guess things. I am always here – to repair and comfort what she has hurt or damaged, as long as you want me to.”

Enid squeezed her affectionately. “You are excellent at comforting my hurts.”

There was a small breath of alleviation she felt from Wednesday. Wanting her to really understand that, she added, “You went out of your way for me tonight. You could’ve just given me a hug, taken me down to the dining hall, and come up to edit my paper. But you didn’t. You knew what very specific things would make me physically feel better, then opened yourself up emotionally for me, too. You’re the best. I love you.”

Wednesday clutched her tightly with one palm wrapped around her back, the other gently tracing the skin near Enid’s scars. Her words felt a little surprising when she added, “I would like to apologize for forcing you to talk about what happened before you were ready. I’m sure you would have liked to not cry in public at the Texas Roadhouse.”

“I think it’s a perfectly lovely public place to have a breakdown,” Enid said with a giggle at her own expense.

Wednesday said nothing other than a quiet, “I love you. Go to sleep.”

Closing her eyes so she could follow the direction, Enid sighed very contently, reflecting on the evening as she drifted off to have the chance to start over in a new day.

Layla is working through prompts and determined to write the Black Menagerie epilogue for the weekend - stay tuned for more ✌🏼

[mrsevans90]

Puppy Love

Captain Syverson x OFC Emma Miller Part 14

Summary: Austin Syverson has returned to Texas after retiring from the military and starts his own contracting business. Syverson is used to being alone and thinks he prefers it that way. While at work he stumbles upon an injured and abused puppy. When he meets the new veterinarian in town, Emma Miller, he is immediately smitten with her. It turns out Emma has some baggage of her own. Will they be able to make it work? Or is it just a case of fleeting puppy love?

Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Emma Miller 

Warnings: Violence, attempted kidnapping, stalking, injured arm, mention of weapon, nightmares, angst, period care, fear, anxious Sy, police officers, language

MINORS DNI! Must be 18+

I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own. 

This story is not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading! 

Part 13

My heart immediately sinks to the pit of my stomach and in an instant, I’m running. It feels like minutes as I run watching Colin’s slimy hands wrapped around Emma’s chest from behind as she fights to defend herself. He is gripping her wrist tightly as he pins it to her chest and she’s twisting and yelling, but I can no longer hear her screams over my own raging thoughts. He looks up as my thundering steps approach just as Emma bites his hand. 

“Ouch! You bitch!” He screams at Emma and I use his moment of distraction to rip Emma from his arms. I push her behind me away from Colin and without another thought, I rare back and punch him square in the nose. The force behind that punch was enough to split my knuckles but I don’t hesitate to follow his body to the ground and hit him again. Hard. As hard as I can. I’m completely lost in my rage as the only sound I hear being the blood rushing past my ears as my adrenaline pumps throughout my body. A large hand lands on my shoulder and I’m about to turn and fight whoever has dared to touch me in this state when I recognize Mr. Ellis. Mr. Ellis is a friend of my PawPaw’s and similar in age to him which gives me momentary pause. When did he get here?

“Son, he’s out cold. You’ve gotta stop now.” Mr. Ellis gestures to Colin’s body which is crumpled on the hot asphalt of the parking lot. 

“I… he was…” I attempt to organize my thoughts but I can’t.

“I know, Sy. I saw. I saw him trying to snatch that girl and I was getting my gun out of the glovebox when you came running up. Didn’t think I could take him alone. I’ve already called 911 and they’re on their way.” Mr. Ellis talks to me like I’m a caged predator and I realize, that’s exactly how I feel. God, it felt so good to split my hand open on his face. To feel just an ounce of the pain I’d like to inflict upon him. I maybe only got two good hits in before Mr. Ellis stopped me, but I made them count judging from the blood seeping on the ground from Colin’s obvious broken nose. I hear a sniffle and whip around to see Emma sitting on her bottom leaned up against a dark colored car with tears streaking noiselessly down her face.

Oh God, Emma.

Despite protest from my bum leg, I clamber up and over to her. She’s holding her right wrist with her hand and looks absolutely petrified.

“Sugar, I’m here. I’m so sorry.” I apologize. I want to apologize for her seeing me like this, for leaving her alone, for not getting there soon enough, the list is endless.

“Austin…” She whimpers and I wrap my arms around her, pulling her into my lap on the asphalt. Sirens are getting louder as police and EMT’s swarm the grocery store parking lot. 

“I was…sso…scared.” She hiccups between sobs and I feel my heart absolutely shatter.

“I know, Sugar. You were so brave. You were incredible. I’m so sorry.”  

EMT’s quickly rush to Colin’s side where he remains unconscious as they transfer him to a stretcher. Much to my dismay, according to the vitals they were shouting, he’s still alive. 

I know several of the police officers and they agree to call Walt for me. Following protocol, they still have to separate Emma and I to hear the versions of our story to piece together what happened. I refused any care for my hand, as the throbbing in my knuckles felt like the perfect reminder that I gave Colin what he was asking for. As a second EMT is taking a look at Emma’s wrist, a police officer that I knew from the ball field in high school named Keith allows me to say goodbye to Emma before driving me to the station for questioning. 

“Is it broken?” I ask the EMT.

“There’s a possibility of a hairline fracture. We won’t know until she gets an x-ray but Ms. Miller doesn’t want to go to the hospital.” She tells me.

“Emma, baby. Go to the hospital and get it checked out.” 

“I’ll give myself an x-ray at the clinic and if it’s broken I’ll call an ortho doc, but first I’m going to answer the police officer’s questions at the station.”

“Sugar, I” 

“Austin, I don’t want to go to the hospital where he will be. I want to go where you are going.” There it is. She doesn’t want to be in the same building with him and I don’t blame her. 

“Okay, I understand. Are you in pain?” 

“I’ll be fine.” She says as she stands up and a female officer joins us. 

“We have to ride separately because of their protocol, but Walt has been called and I’ll send him directly to you so you won’t be alone, alright Darlin’?”

She nods and I kiss her gently. 

“I love you, and I’ll be with you as soon as they let me.”

“I love you too.” She says with a forced smile. God, I don't want to leave her.

I follow Keith to his cruiser and he allows me to sit in the passenger seat.

I call PawPaw on the way and explain what happened before I ask him to go get my truck from the parking lot since he has my spare keys, that’s full of groceries and take them home for me before dropping my truck at the police station. Nothing surprises that man as he just agrees, tells me that he’ll take the dogs back with him so not to rush and to call him when I can.

I also call Walt and he promises that he’s almost at the station and he’ll go straight to Emma when he arrives. He’s a homicide detective so this isn’t even remotely a part of his job description, but he’s well respected in the community and someone I trust entirely so I want him by Emma’s side until I can be.

We arrive at the police department where I’m placed in a monitored room for about twenty minutes before an older man comes into question me. I explain to him exactly who Colin was, Emma’s history and fear of him, and my actions when I walked out of the store. The investigator surmises that my story matches the witness testimony that was given by Mr. Ellis as well as a young mother who was walking into the store when Colin grabbed Emma. 

“I can confirm that the suspect is conscious now at the hospital, but you should know there is a strong possibility he attempts to press charges against you for assault.” 

I scoff. “I dare him to try.” I say truthfully and the detective just leans back in his chair.

“You’re a big guy compared to him. What was going through your head?”

“I probably would have killed him if Mr. Ellis didn’t stop me. He was trying to take the love of my life. Someone he abused physically, verbally and mentally for years before I met her. I was not going to allow that to happen.”

“Off the books of course, I’d probably do the exact same if someone came after my wife or daughter, so I don’t blame you.” He said with a smirk.

“Can I see her?” 

“She’s still being questioned but I can show you where to wait.”

“Walt with her?” I ask.

“He hasn’t left her side, which is unusual but Walt’s taking good care of her.

After waiting for what felt like forever, Emma finally emerges from the room she was in with Walt right behind her. Her arm is wrapped in a temporary brace as she cradles it to her abdomen.

“Austin.” She says with a visible relief as I wrap my arms around her and she cuddles into my chest.

“Thank you, Walt.” I shake his hand while not removing my arms from Emma’s body.

“Not a problem. She did well. We’re pressing charges against the suspect for attempted kidnapping and stalking, in addition to the violation of the restraining order. He won’t get out of it like last time. We’re talking mandatory jailtime if he’s convicted.” I breathe a sigh of relief.

“Thank God.” I respond aloud.

“We have some paperwork to fill out and then y’all can go.” Walter directs us over to his desk and sends someone to get us coffee.

“The final thing we need to do is a written statement from you, Sy. I got Emma’s in the investigation room. She couldn’t write so I transcribed for her.”

I bite my lip to keep from cursing at the fact that my girl is injured. The poor thing looks exhausted as she cradles the Styrofoam cup of strong black coffee in her uninjured hand. I know it’s bitter after she takes a small sip and places it down with a slight look of disgust. 

“I’ll make this as quick as I can, Sugar.” I say and she nods before looking at the picture of Faye that Walt has on his desk. They engage in small talk as I recount the events of the afternoon starting at the grocery store on paper. My handwriting is just barely legible, but it was good enough for the army to never say anything so they shouldn’t have problem with it either. When I’m finished, I glance at Em who is resting her head against her uninjured arm across Walt’s desk and lightly dozing. I hand the legal pad back over to Walt who reads over it and then has me sign it at the bottom. He adds his signature as a witness to my statement. 

“There was a vehicle in the parking lot near where the assault took place that had an Alabama license plate on it.”

“Was it registered to him?”

“Nope, rental car. I’ve got someone trying to confirm that he was the renter.”

“Was it darkly colored?”

“Black.”

“Damnit..” I mutter. “She said she saw a dark car parked out by her neighbor’s house all night. It turned around in her driveway but she thought it was the neighbor’s kid. I didn’t check the surveillance video when she mentioned it.” I’m such a fucking idiot, I think to myself.

“Was she home?”

“Nah, she was at mine. I should’ve looked into it.” 

“Well, at least she wasn’t there and you’ve got surveillance camera’s up. Send me the video later when you go back and obsess over this.” He knows me well.

“I will.”

“She gonna be okay?” Walt asks and I shrug my shoulders.

“I honestly don’t know. I just can’t believe this even happened. I should have protected her.”

“You did, Sy. That guys face proves it.”

“I shouldn’t have left her alone.”

“Don’t beat yourself up. She’s not a child that needs a babysitter, you didn’t know. Just try to let her process her feelings about it and be there. That’s all you can do in situations like these.” 

“Thanks man. I really owe ya for being there for us. For her. I know this isn’t your responsibility and you certainly don’t have the time to spare.” 

“We’re family, practically brothers. She’s a great girl and I expect to see her officially becoming family one day.” He says with a wink and I smirk.

“I’m just trying not to scare her off or I’d already have a ring.” We shake hands and I gently wake Emma up.

“Sugar, we’re done. Let’s get out of here.” I tell her and she sleepily blinks up at me before nodding. Walt and I are both surprised when she walks around Walter’s desk and wraps her arms around him. 

“Thank you for everything. Next time you have Faye, I would love to meet her.” She says genuinely and Walt smiles, something rare for him.

“You can count on it. As soon as she knows you’re a veterinarian she’ll be asking you a million questions so prepare yourself now.”

“Bring her to the clinic sometime. She can be my assistant for the day.” Emma smiles and I’m surprised at how comfortable she seems around Walt. I’m grateful for it though. I’m closer with him than I am with my own brother and I appreciate her having someone else here she can rely on. Walt’s not an easy man to get to know, so it makes me happy that she broke down that barrier and got him to open up. Breaking down walls seems to come naturally to her. God knows, she worked her magic on me somehow.

We say our goodbyes and make our way to the parking lot where I find my truck parked in the lot, just like PawPaw said he would.

“How?” Emma asked as I opened the passenger door and lifted her in.

“PawPaw. Called him on the way to the station.” I answer before getting in and cranking the engine. It’s late afternoon now and this day seems to have gone on forever. 

“Can we get something to eat on the way home?” Emma asks and I arch my eyebrow at her.

“Sure, but I’m taking you to get that arm checked out.” 

“No. I want fast food, and I want to go home.” She demands.

“Baby, I’m worried that it’s broken. You’re clearly in pain. You’ve been cradling your arm against you since it happened.”

“I just need some Tylenol and a greasy burger. I’ll go tomorrow. After everything today, I just want to go home. Please?” She looks at me with pure exhaustion and almost seems like she might cry. I nod and put the truck in gear. I can't ever seem to tell her no.

“Promise you’ll tell me if it hurts and I’ll take you to the doctor.” I command and she promises.

After securing a bag full of greasy Mcdonald’s, I start making the way towards her house assuming she’d want to be in the comfort of her home. I plan on staying wherever she is, so I’m glad my grandparents took the dogs for the night.

“Where are we going? You missed the turn.” She points out.

“You said you wanted to go home so I figured you meant yours.”

“No. I want to go to yours.”

“Okay, Sugar.” I tell her as I make a u-turn to head back in the direction of my house with a small smile on my lips.

“What?” Emma asks.

“I just like hearing you say you want to go home and meaning my house. I figured you’d want to be in your own bed or something.”

She shakes her head. “Your house feels more like home to me.”

“It is baby. It’s our home.” I tell her as I tuck some hair behind her ear and her smile melts my heart.

After we get home and I explain that the dogs are with my grandparents, Emma takes some medicine before we tuck in to our greasy dinner. Is it really that tasty, or are we just starving from the events of the day? The Wizard of Oz plays noisily on the tv in the background but neither of us seem to be watching it, rather just using it as background noise while we eat.

Emma is quiet, likely processing everything that has happened so I just remain a silent presence as I let her sit in her contemplation, remaining close if she decides she’d like to talk.

I place a bag of frozen peas on her arm when she’s done eating and it startles her almost as if she didn’t notice me moving around beside her. She thanks me quietly as I elevate her arm on some pillows before I run my hands through her hair. We remain sitting in the living room until the movie credits are rolling on the tv screen. Emma is curled against me but seems uncomfortable. I ask her if her arm hurts and she just replies, “cramps”. Damn, in all of the madness today I forgot. This morning seems like it was a lifetime ago. 

“Let’s go take a warm shower and get in bed, Darlin’”. 

Emma nods and I help her up before tossing the peas back in the freezer. I shut off the lights and double check that the doors are locked before we head into the master bathroom and I turn the water on to get it warming. 

“I’ll give you a minute. Need anything?” I ask and she just shakes her head.

I head back into the bedroom making sure I have all of the comfort items I purchased this morning ready for her. I pulled out one of my t-shirts and grabbed some panties from her bag before setting them on her side of the bed. I made sure she had some water and pain relief meds on the nightstand as well. I stripped myself down before knocking on the bathroom door to let her know I was coming back in. Emma was already standing in the hot stream of water so I joined her and wrapped my arms around her. Her bandage was taken off and sat on the bathroom vanity and this was the first look I had gotten of it since she got hurt. I gently placed her arm in my flat palm and looked at the blue, purple, and slightly yellow bruise that had formed along the top of her forearm. 

“I’m okay.” She said as I stared at her arm and tried to reign in my anger towards that bastard of a human. 

“You should see the other guy…oh wait.” She jokes and I can’t help but smirk. Before I can apologize again for not getting to her quick enough, she speaks again.

“Could you help me wash my hair?” 

“Of course, Sugar. Let me.” I take her shampoo that she brought and left over here a few weeks ago and washed her hair before rinsing and conditioning it. While letting that sit, I washed her body as gently as I could. I noticed her knees were scraped but didn’t say anything about it, just gently cleaning them off. After rinsing her hair and her body, I quickly bathed myself before getting us out and wrapping her up in a towel. I attempted to wrap her hair up in a towel as well, but that ended up being more complicated than I realized. She smiled and asked for a moment of privacy so I waited for her in the bedroom as I threw on some boxers. Emma came out a moment later still wrapped in her towel and I quickly helped her put on some panties and my DILIGAF t-shirt that she loves so much. I re-wrapped her hand with the bandage that the EMT’s placed on it earlier today and made her promise that we would get it looked at tomorrow. She showed me how to brush her hair, claiming she could do it with her non-dominant hand, but I was adamant that she let me help her. I gently combed through the tangles over her long hair before settling her in bed with the hot water bottle on her abdomen before crawling in behind her to spoon her.

“Mmm. Thank you for the hot water bottle. And, everything else.”

“I’m just sorry you got hurt. I’ve replayed it in my head a hundred times at least and I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

“Baby. Don’t. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m so grateful you were there.”

“What happened…when I went back inside the store? I’ve been trying not to ask but I just need to know.”

“Well, you went back inside and I started unloading the groceries into the truck. Once I got them all in, I went to put the grocery cart in the little return area. I didn’t see him, I just felt someone come up behind me and I tried to turn around but he wrapped his arms around me and told me to stay still. That’s when I knew. The second I heard his voice and felt his breath on my neck, I knew it was Colin. I told him to stop, not do this. All he said was, “I’m going to make you regret turning your back on me.” I noticed he was sort of backing me up away from your truck and that’s when I started really fighting him and screaming. You showed up a few moments later.” She explained.

My hands gripped tightly into fists as I thought about what happened next. His hands on her, Emma’s screams, my urge to get to her.

Emma placed her hand on top of mine before turning over to face me. I helped her move her hair away from her face before she kissed me. Lovingly, tenderly, appreciatively.

“I love you, Austin Syverson. You mean the world to me.”

“I love you more, Sugar.”

“Thank you for putting up with my baggage.”

“Thank you for putting up with mine.” I say as I stroke her cheek before kissing her forehead. Emma yawns and places her hot water bottle on the nightstand before snuggling into me and falling asleep. Her eyelids flutter in the moonlight that trickles in to the bedroom and I lay there admiring her strength while also running through every ‘what if’ scenario in my head.  What if I hadn’t arrived in time and he had managed to take her? What if he had hurt her worse? What were his intentions by taking her? My brain gets carried away and I’m tempted to get up and get a beer, but I can’t stand the thought of leaving Emma alone after almost losing her. I lay there in the dark with the most incredible woman that I’ve ever met curled against my chest and thank God for letting her be okay before I finally drift off to sleep.

I’m awoken with a start at some point in the middle of the night, blinking the sleep from my eyes as I try and figure out what woke me. I hear Emma whimper and see that she’s having a nightmare. Usually it’s me with the nightmares, but this time she’s the one crying and curled in on herself in the fetal position.

“Sugar?” I gently try and rouse her.

“no, please no.” She mumbles and I flip the lamp on and scoop her up against me.

“Sugar, it’s Austin. You’re safe.” I tell her and her eyelids peel open, groggily.

She takes a deep breath as tears stream down her face. My heart somehow breaks even more.

I don’t know what to do or say so I just keep repeating that she’s safe and hold her until her crying calms down and she is asleep in my arms.

I lay in the dark cradling her as I try to keep my thoughts on my perfect girl, rather than that scum that I wish I had wiped off of parking lot to finish him off. I reach for my phone with my intentions clear. I know what I want. I have some research to do and now is the best time to start.

Part 15

Taglist: @shellyshellshell, @henryownsme, @caramariehurst, @beck07990, @mollymal, @kingliam2019, @syversonswife, @identity2212, @starfirewildheart, @hannah9921, @wa-ni, @kneelforloki, @cutedoxie, @enchantedbytomandhenry, @foxyjwls007, @geralts-yenn, @courtlynwriter, @corrie1013, @squeezyvalkyrie, @summersong69, @livisss, @mayloma, @uunotheangel, @warriormirkwood, @sofiebstar

[justagalwhowrites]

Yearling - Ch. 22: Storm

A spring snowstorm hits Jackson. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-21 found on Tumblr here.

PLEASE PAY CLOSE ATTENTION TO THE CONTENT WARNINGS, THIS IS A ROUGH CHAPTER!!!

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Past sexual assault vaguely described; animal death; PTSD response; sexual assault of a minor mentioned in a vulgar way (not seen); possible child death. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only 

Length: 8.6k 

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Early May, 2013 

You were outside when the woman rode up. 

Your home was well hidden and you’d only seen five people since Mark had left almost a year earlier, each of them making their way into your land and telling you that he’d sent them your way. They were all kind, they were all vulnerable and they were all loaded down with things you would need. Flashlight batteries and bulbs, sugar and salt, rubbing alcohol and petroleum jelly. Thread, fabric, pain killers, antibiotics, guitar strings. One woman had been sent with a snack sized bag of Lays that were still sealed and a bottle of whiskey. That had made you smile, the clearest sign that Mark hadn’t forgotten about you. 

All of the others had arrived on foot, seemingly with a good idea of where to go, mostly alone but two women has traveled together. The timing wasn’t predictable but you at least knew what you could expect when someone Mark sent your way came into your territory.

This woman was different. 

You heard her before you saw her, the thundering footfalls and heavy breathing of her horse loud against the quiet of the forest. You didn’t have time to fortify your position, didn’t even have time to go get more ammo. So you stood your ground and raised your rifle, heart pounding, when she burst through the tree line and into the clearing that you called home. 

“Back the fuck up!” You yelled, gun raised. The horse all but skidded to a stop, the woman on its back clutching a bundle of blankets to her chest with one hand, yanking back on the reins with the other.  

“Easy!” She said dropping the reins and putting her hand up. She still clung to the bundle. You recognized the horse. It was Perseus, it was Mark’s horse. “Are you Texas?” 

“Who’s askin’?” Your accent was thick, fear a knot in your stomach as you looked Perseus over. You didn’t see any signs of injury.

She kept her hand up. 

“You knew Mark?” She asked. She had an accent, too. Georgia southern, like Mark. “Brown hair, criminally long eyelashes?” 

You narrowed your eyes at her and tightened your grip on your weapon. 

“He knew you,” she kept going. “He… he told me all about you. Doubt he ever mentioned me but… he talked about you all the time. He loved you and I think you loved him, too.” 

You swallowed past the growing lump in your throat and tightness in your chest. She kept using past tense. 

“What about him?” You asked, keeping your gun raised but your grip loosened. 

“He sent me to find you. We need your help,” she said, reaching and tugging her pant leg up just enough to reveal a festering bite mark on her ankle. “And I don’t have much time.” 

***

Early April, 2027

“I can’t believe you’ve been calling her a fucking baby deer this whole goddamn time!” 

Ellie was perched on Shimmer’s stall door, watching as you and Joel set out blankets for the horses. It has been snowing all day and winds were picking up. You were worried a blizzard was moving in and you wanted help getting the horses set to ride out the storm if you couldn’t get to them for a day or two. 

Joel was happy to assist, especially since he had come back from patrol a week earlier with a copy of Bambi on VHS. Ellie hadn’t been able to calm down about it since and it reminded him of the giddiness she had when she started in on the puns the first time, almost four years ago now. He’d have done anything to get that back and, it turned out, all it took was an old Disney movie and a funny nickname.  

“Thank you,” you laughed, almost smug. “Don’t talk for a few minutes and get saddled with the name of a cartoon deer for life…” 

“Hey, needed somethin’ to call you and you try coming up with anything else after lookin’ at you with those big eyes,” Joel said, defensive but smiling. “Not my fault it stuck.” 

“Yeah well Bambi here was gonna kick your ass the first time we met,” she replied. “Big bad contractor was gonna get beat up by a fucking cartoon deer from a kid’s movie…”

Joel tried to keep from laughing and raised his eyebrows at you. 

“OK that’s an exaggeration,” you said. “All I was going to do…” 

“I asked if you were going to try to kick his ass,” Ellie cut you off. “And you said ‘no try about it, I was gonna kick his ass.’” 

“And what did I do to deserve that?” Joel asked, teasing. 

“Well, Ellie tried to warn me about you…” You began, but Ellie cut you off. 

“Should have listened….” 

You glared at her. 

“But she wasn’t very clear,” you said. “And if some grown man was messing around with a girl, I was going to kick his ass. Turns out I didn’t have a reason to.” 

Joel laughed. 

“Glad you spared me.” 

You laughed before planting your hands on your hips, looking around the stable for a moment, taking stock. 

“Think things are just about as good as they’re gonna get,” you sighed. “But I think they should be good for a day until we can dig out and get back over here. Just wait for them to finish dinner, put more feed in after…” 

“Think there’s any chance of the patrols making it back tonight?” Ellie asked, her eyebrows drawn together. 

“Probably not,” Joel said. “They got places to ride out shit like storms if they get stuck, they’ll be alright.” 

“Still,” you said. “Had a group that was due back tonight, Jackson was probably the closest point to ride it out. Think I’ll hang out for a bit yet…” 

“I’ll go get us something to eat,” Joel said. “We’ll wait with you, head home after, settle in to ride out the storm.” 

“Can we stay at Bambi’s?” Ellie asked. “She’s got a way better stereo.” 

You smiled. 

“Sure, kid,” you said. “On you to get Joel to dance party, though.” 

“Dance party?” He frowned. 

“You wouldn’t get it, Old Man,” she replied, the hint of a smirk on her face. 

“Don’t get a lot of things about you, Baby Girl,” he said before stretching his back a bit. “Alright, back in a few. Try not to find too much trouble while I’m gone.” 

You and Ellie both rolled your eyes and he couldn’t help but smile as he made his way through the few inches of snow that had already fallen, heading for the mess hall. 

One of Joel’s favorite parts of being back on good terms with Ellie was getting to see your relationship with her. Even before she was mad at him, he wanted her to have someone like you in her life. Another woman she could talk to, look up to, guide her in ways he didn’t fully understand. She needed that and he hadn’t been able to see it happening from the distance she was holding him at before. 

He knew the two of you were close, he just hadn’t realized how close until the last few months. The two of you felt more like family than Sarah’s mother ever had and he treasured it, treasured that you seemed to love his daughter almost as much as he did. 

The mess hall was getting ready for a storm, too, putting together baskets of food to send home with Jackson residents so people wouldn’t be struggling through the storm for their meals over the next few days. He gathered enough to last the three of you for a bit plus some sandwiches for tonight before he started back toward the stables, the wind more forceful and biting than when he’d left just half an hour earlier. 

As he got closer, he noticed tracks in the snow, hoof prints leading to the stables. A patrol had made it back and, for half a moment, he was a little disappointed. If the storm wasn’t as bad as they were expecting and the patrol was able to make it back to Jackson without losing much time, he might not get to spend the day with you and Ellie tomorrow. Ever since the storm started moving in that afternoon he’d been excited for the chance to have some unexpected time just the three of you - almost like playing hooky but with permission. 

But he knew he should just be happy the patrol made it home through the weather, hopefully with all the people intact. Which, he was. But damn if he didn’t love an excuse to spend time with you. 

He opened the door to the stable and quickly moved shut it behind him, expecting to find you taking saddles off horses. Instead, you damn near slammed into him, your eyes wide, not saying a word as you shoved the door open and took off into the snow. 

“Bambi?” He called after you. You didn’t even slow down. He jogged over to Ellie’s perch and set the food down, a tightness starting to grip his chest. 

“No idea,” Ellie said, not waiting for him to ask. “Patrol came back, said something about some people they found outside… She just said ‘savvy’ and took the fuck off.” 

Joel looked around for a second. Julie was standing next to her horse, a confused look on her face. 

“You found people outside?” Joel asked. 

“Yeah,” she said, still staring at where you’d run out. “Yeah, a group of five. We brought them back…” 

“Where are they?” He asked, fighting to keep his voice calm. 

“The clinic…” 

“Ellie,” he said quickly. “Stay put here, alright? I’m gone more than half an hour, head on home. Mine or hers, don’t want you in that little place for this storm, OK Baby Girl?” 

“Yeah,” she nodded, not giving him shit. She looked concerned, too. “Yeah, OK.” 

He gave her a stiff nod and went out into the building storm, following your footprints to the clinic. 

Joel heard you there before he saw you, your voice pleading and desperate as he shut the wind and snow outside. 

“Anything,” you were begging. “Anything at all, a name, an age, hair color, anything, please…” 

“I’m sorry,” a man whose voice Joel didn’t recognize said. “She did say much before she died, just that there was a girl…” 

Joel found you then, in the same room he’d been in when he’d come in from patrol with a bullet in his leg. 

“Where?” You asked. “Where’d you find her? Did she say where she escaped from, how far she’d come?” 

“We picked them up about 15 miles north east of here,” Fred, one of the men on patrol, said. “Just south of Kelly.” 

“Think she came from a camp ground near there,” the other man said. He was skinny, a patch of frostbite on his nose. “Said something about cabins…” 

“Right,” you nodded. “Right, thank you.” 

You turned and ran smack into Joel’s chest. You barely seemed to register it, hardly even glancing at him before ducking around him and running out the door again. 

“She was asking about a girl,” Fred said quickly. “These folks here, had a woman with them before we found them. Said she escaped raiders, that the raiders had a teenaged girl…” 

“Fuck,” Joel muttered under his breath before looking at the other man. “Thanks, Fred.” 

He didn’t wait for a response, just ducking back into the snow, the wind starting to howl now, running to catch up with you. 

You were on your porch by the time he reached you. You didn’t even seem to be aware that he was following you, you were too focused on something else entirely. You didn’t even bother to take your boots off when you got in the house, just ripping the coat closet inside your door open and pulling out your patrol materials as Joel let himself in. 

“Bambi,” he said gently. You looked up at him for a moment, like you were surprised to find him there before you focused back on your pack, shoving in blankets and flashlights. “Come on, honey…” 

“They’ve got her, Joel,” you said, barely glancing at him before you grabbed your bag and half walked, half ran to your kitchen. “Can’t just leave her out there with them, I…” 

“There’s a snowstorm, Sweetheart,” he said gently, trying to keep his voice calm. “It’s not safe…” 

“Doesn’t matter,” you started stuffing food in your bag, no rhyme or reason to it that Joel could see. 

“Yes, it does,” he said, trying to take the pack from you. You yanked it back, a vicious look in your eyes before you ducked around him. “Baby.” 

“I’m not leaving her to those… those…” your voice cracked. “Those fucking monsters, I’m not, I can’t just leave her, I can’t just abandon her, I…” 

“You getting yourself killed won’t help anybody.” It was getting harder and harder to keep the panic from his voice. He’d never seen you quite like this. Close to it when out on patrol and there were signs that raiders were near, signs of their violence, but he’d always been able to pull you back from the edge. He wasn’t sure he could this time. “Bambi, you can’t…” 

“Yes, I can.” 

You moved around him and he followed. 

“I know you want to help people,” he said. “But you can’t help anyone if you get yourself killed. I know you want to save everyone from going through what you went through…” 

“That’s not what this is,” you said, turning in circles like you were looking for something but you couldn’t place it. 

“Then what is it?” He caught you by the shoulders and looked at you, your eyes wide and panicky. “Tell me, help me understand. When the weather clears, I can go with you and…” 

“It’ll be too late then,” you shook your head, tears starting to swell. “As soon as the snow stops they’re going to leave and it’ll be too late, I’ll never catch them and they’ll still have her and I can’t lose her again, Joel, I can’t, I can’t take it, I can’t do this again, please, don’t ask me to do this again I…” 

“Do what?” He asked, pleading, his grip on you firm. “Let me help you, Baby, please, tell me what’s going on. Who…” 

“My daughter!” You said quickly. Joel froze, his heart pounding against his ribs. “I have a daughter, I have a daughter and if it’s her I… I can’t lose her again, I can’t. I have to go get her…” 

“You…” he breathed. 

“My daughter,” you said, eyes wide. “Please, Joel. I think they have my daughter.” 

*** 

Early May, 2013

You lowered your rifle enough that it was no longer an immediate threat and she relaxed a little, letting the pant leg fall over her ankle again. There was a small cry from the bundle in her arms and you frowned, looking between her and it. She carefully lowered it from her chest, looking down to it. 

“Hey, you’re OK sweet girl,” she said gently. “It’s alright…” 

The bundle fussed but didn’t cry again and she looked back to you. 

“Can I get down?” She asked. “Got a lot to talk about and not a lot of time to do it. Figure I’ve got an hour left. Two, tops.” 

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly. “Yeah, OK. Let’s talk.” 

You didn’t invite her in, not wanting to deal with the potential hazard of her turning into one of those inhuman things in your house. She didn’t seem to mind. 

Her name, she said, was Laurel. She was about your age, you guessed, with her dark hair in two thick braids, deep brown eyes and rich umber skin. 

“This is Savannah,” she said, tilting the bundle so you could see inside. “She’s nine months old…” 

You looked at her, awed for a moment. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen a baby and you resisted the urge to reach out and run your finger over her chubby, impossibly soft looking cheek. She blinked at you, her brown eyes oddly keen and exacting for a baby, her lashes almost obscenely long. You frowned, leaning in to look closer at her. You knew those impossibly soft, brown eyes set in her lovely russet-hued face. 

“She’s Mark’s,” you said softly, looking up at Laurel. “She’s Mark’s, isn’t she?” 

“Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, she is.” 

“I…” your voice broke. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know he had someone, I wouldn’t have…” 

“It wasn’t like that,” she cut you off. “My husband died about three years ago. He got hurt, it got infected… Not even the fucking apocalypse kind, just the kind that you can clear up with penicillin if you can find the damn stuff. Mark… we were both lonely, looking for something to make it better for a while. It just kind of happened. She just kind of happened.” 

The baby cooed, stretching and reaching for you. 

“Where is he?” You asked, looking back at Laurel. “What happened to him?” 

“Our settlement got overrun,” she said, her voice suddenly thick. “They came out of nowhere and just… He tried. He tried so, so hard, you should know that he tried. But he got bit, on the neck, trying to protect us and… He told me where to find you. That’s what he did with the last few minutes of his life, he told me where to find you, he told me that you’d take care of us, make sure we survived. He told me to tell you that he loved you and that he wanted to come back to you…” 

You found yourself nodding, tears on your cheeks as you looked into the eyes of the man you loved in his child’s face. 

“He died before I got bit,” she said. “He died thinking we had a shot. I kept her safe, though. She was safe…” 

“You did good,” you said, throat tight. “You really did…” 

“I need your help,” she said before taking a deep breath. 

“Course,” you nodded, tearing your eyes away from Mark’s daughter to look at her. “What…” 

“I need you to take Savannah.” 

You just blinked at her for a moment. “I…” you broke off, shaking your head. “What? I… no, no, I’m not who you want, I don’t…” 

“I don’t have a lot of options,” she said. “I don’t have time to find another person let alone someone I know I can trust. And I know I can trust you with her. Mark loved you and you loved him, you won’t let anything happen to his child.” 

“But I…” you looked back at the baby in her arms. “I don’t know anything about kids, I wouldn’t even know where to start, I don’t…” 

“Please,” she said, her voice breaking. “He wanted you to take care of her. I think… I think part of him knew it would just be her. That’s why he sent me here, to you. He wanted it to be you. He trusted you and he loved you, he wanted her to be with you. Please, I’ll beg if I have to, just please take care of her. Please.” 

You looked at the baby in her arms, at Mark’s eyes with the impossibly long lashes. 

“OK.” 

Laurel held her daughter while she told you everything. You paused her to take some notes when you thought of it, things like a recipe for formula when she refused solids and what to do when she started crying but wouldn’t stop. She told you how much her daughter loved to gnaw on bits of apple and loved to bounce in time to her father’s humming and her birthday - July 20. 

She started twitching more in what felt like no time at all, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. She pressed her lips to her daughter’s forehead. 

“You’ll be OK sweet girl,” she whispered to her. “You’ll be OK. Mama loves you, OK? Try to remember that for me, OK?” She looked up at you. “Will… will you tell her about me? About Mark?” 

You nodded, the pinch of tears tight in your throat. 

“Of course,” you said. “I’ll make sure she knows everything you did for her. She’ll know about you.” 

She nodded, passing you her child. Your child. 

“I’d like to do it myself,” she said, nodding to the gun at your hip. “If that’s OK.” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, adjusting Savannah in your arms and handing Laurel the gun. She took it and walked backwards away from you, her eyes on her daughter. Your daughter. 

“I’ll close my eyes just before,” she said once she was about 20 feet away, still looking at her baby. “Can you cover hers for me? I want to look at her as long as I can but I don’t want her to see…” 

“Yeah,” you nodded again. “I can do that.” 

“Thank you,” she smiled tightly, actually looking at you this time. “I… I know this isn’t what you planned but… It’s easier, knowing she has someone.” 

“I’ll take care of her,” you said. “I’ll love her. I’ll take care of her.” 

Laurel just nodded and looked back at her child, watching her for a moment, the gun in her shaky hand. 

“Mama loves you,” she said softly, raising the gun to her temple and closing her eyes. You quickly pressed Savannah’s face into your chest and held her close. 

Everything was eerily silent for a moment, the longest second of your life, before there was the crack of the gun and the sharp cry of the baby who was all you had left in the world. 

August 2018 

“You have learn this, Savvy.”

“I don’t want to shoot them, Mama,” your daughter looked over at you from her spot on the downed tree, looking at the infected more than 100 feet away through a scope. 

“These are the easiest things you’ll ever have to shoot,” you said gently. “It’s nice to shoot them, you’re making it so they’re not hurting anymore…” 

“But they’re people.” 

Her eyes - her father’s eyes - were so wide. The springs of her curls were bundled back away from her face, a sprinkle of freckles across her nose. 

“I know they look like people,” you ran your hand over the crown of her small head. “But they’re not, not anymore. They’re things that are hurting and the only way to help them is to shoot them. And shooting them keeps you and me safe. Now, you can do this. Do it just like you do at home with the targets.” 

She looked at you, her big eyes watery, before obeying and turning back toward the gun. You watched as she lined up her shot and took a deep breath, exhaling before firing. 

Her shot went a little wide, catching the infected on the arm. It whipped its head around and shrieked before running for you. 

“Mama!” 

“It’s alright,” you said, looking down your own rifle for a moment before firing and hitting it in the head. It dropped like a stone. “See? All OK. This is why we learn.”

“I’m sorry,” her voice was thick and trembling and you looked over at her, tears streaming down her face. “I tried hard, I promise…” she hiccuped and gulped in air and you set your rifle down and sat up before pulling her against you. 

“You did so good,” you kissed the top of her head. “Don’t be sorry, Honey, you did so good, I’m so proud of you.”

“But I didn’t kill them,” she pulled her face from your chest, her lower lip quivering. “I did it wrong and…” 

“You’ll get better,” you said gently. “No one is perfect when they’re learning. This is just to make sure that you’re safe. I’ll always protect you but it’s good for you to know how to protect yourself, too. This is just in case, OK?” 

She nodded against you and you held her until she stopped crying. When she calmed, you ran your thumbs over her cheeks and kissed her small forehead, wishing you didn’t have to teach her these things. If you could just shelter her away from the world - from infected, from the people who has found power because of the infected - then it would all be OK. She wouldn’t need to know how to kill. It could be just you and her, growing things and raising horses and reading by the fire, until the end of time. 

But the world, you knew, was not so kind. 

“Want to go pick out some books?” You asked gently. She nodded and the two of you got up and you took her hand, leading her to the library. 

In the more than five years you’d had Savvy, she had become your entire world. Everything you did, you did for her. To keep her safe, to make her happy, to teach her. You’d known nothing about children when Laurel brought her to you. The first night, you’d held her close while you both cried and you prayed to a god you’d never been sure existed that you would do right by her.

Loving her came easy. Living for her was harder. 

But you fell into it eventually, guiding her through the world as it was now as best you could. If you found a family near your territory, you’d watch them from afar and, once you knew it was safe, bring Savvy to introduce her, give her a chance to know someone besides yourself. You taught her how to read, how to count, how to skin a rabbit. You had no idea if it was the right thing but you hoped it would be enough that, when she was older, she would survive if something happened to you. That’s all that mattered, that she would be OK. 

“Mama?” She asked, setting her picture book on her legs as you browsed the shelves for more books on home schooling and small scale farming.

“Yes baby?” 

“What else would I need to shoot?” 

You frowned and looked down at her, your hand on the spine of a book. 

“What?” 

“Well, you said that the not people are the easiest things I would have to shoot,” she said, face serious. “So… what else would I have to shoot?” 

“I don’t think you’ll like shooting animals much,” you said and she crinkled her nose. “But you’ll probably have to at some point.” 

“But I like animals,” she pouted. 

You smiled. 

“I know you do.” 

“What else?” She asked, still peering up at you. 

You sighed. 

“Sometimes…” you turned your attention back to the books. “Sometimes you’ll have to shoot a person.” 

Her wide eyes somehow grew wider, a look of horror on her face. 

“But…” her little voice broke. “But I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“I know,” you said quietly. “But sometimes we have to.” 

“Why?” 

“Because,” you looked down to her. “There are things in this world that want to hurt you and you need to know how to hurt them first.” 

“But you’re here,” she said. She was so young, so small. You knelt, getting down on her level. 

“You still need to know how,” you said. “I will do everything I can to protect you but I might fail. You need to know how to destroy them before they destroy you because they will. They will destroy every part of you they can touch if they have the chance. Don’t give them the chance.” 

She considered that for a moment, her face very serious. 

“Does it hurt?” She asked, looking up at you. 

You reached down at cupped her cheek.

“Yes,” you said quietly. “Yes, it does.” 

Her eyes were wide and soft and deep and you wanted, more than anything, to keep her safe. 

“But I’ll take care of you,” you said, stroking her soft skin with your thumb. “For as long as I’m alive, I’ll take care of you.” 

September 15, 2023 

“Mom?” 

You looked up from where you were working at skinning a rabbit. There was a glow in your front window, a hold over from when Savvy was even younger and you had to leave to go check on the horses before bed. She got scared one night when she woke up and found that you weren’t in the dark cabin. Ever since, you always left the electric lantern on when you left in the evenings, even though she said she didn’t need it anymore. It was just enough to work by as the sun got lower outside. 

“Yeah?”

“What…” she paused, an odd look on her face. “What’s in Gattling’s mouth?” 

The dog was hovering behind Savvy’s legs and you leaned around from your position on a tree stump, trying to get a look at her. You frowned, not able to make it out in the low light, and set the rabbit and your knife down, wiping your hands on a rag tucked into your belt.  

Gattling’s tail wagged as you approached, her head low and you squatted down to be on her level, angling her head toward the house so her muzzle wasn’t in shadow. Her snout was red with blood, something dangling from her jaws. You held your palm out flat. 

“Gattling, release.” 

She obediently dropped it in your hand with a sickening splat. It took you a moment to realize that it was a pinky finger. 

“Mom?” Savvy’s voice was shaky. You dropped the finger where you stood and heard the crack of a gunshot in the distance. 

“We have to move.” 

You grabbed her arm and pulled her in the house, Gattling trotting close behind. 

“What’s happening?” She asked, looking back over her shoulder. “Mom, what’s…” 

“Get packed,” you said, grabbing a pack and thrusting at her before running to the dresser in the corner. You shrugged out of the shirt you were wearing and traded it for the one you’d worn when you fled the ranch 20 years earlier, not willing to leave Justin’s shirt behind. “Some clothes, first aid, batteries, flashlights, all three kinds of ammo, sleeping bag.” 

You went to the kitchen and started grabbing things you’d already preserved. Jerky, dried fruit, some seeds. Most of the canteens in the house were full and you grabbed a few. You grabbed the pistol, the shot gun and the rifles. You set it all out on the table and looked over to your daughter who was obediently filling her pack. 

“Leave room for this,” you said, taking your rifle from the pile. “Meet me by the horses as quick as you can. Turn out the lantern on your way.” 

She just nodded. You sprinted for the cabin you’d turned into a stable. Nike was huffed at your arrival and you grabbed her tack and saddled her up as quickly as you could, making sure there was room to add basic supplies. Savvy ran into the pen just as you led Nike and Perseus into the middle of it. 

“Long guns,” you held your hand out as you tightened down straps of the saddle. She handed you the shotgun first and you tucked it into a strap on the saddle. The rifle came next. You stepped back and looked at it for a moment. 

“OK,” you said turning back to your daughter, looking her over. She’d gotten so tall, she was only a few inches shorter than you now, you didn’t even need to stoop to press a kiss to her forehead. “Want you to head north, understand?” 

“What are you talking about?” She asked as you took her arm and guided her alongside the horse. “Mom, you’re coming with me, I’ll just follow you, I’ll just…” 

“I’ll get to you when I can,” you said. She shook her head, her eyes wide. 

“No,” she grabbed your arms. “No, you can’t, you can’t just leave me, you can’t…” 

“I’m not leaving you,” you held her face in your hands, looked into her eyes. She had her father’s eyes. “I’m not, OK? I will find you. I will always find you, sweet girl, I will always protect you. That’s what I’m going to do, OK? I’m going to buy you time. Cut north, stick to the woods, off the trails. You know things here. Go out of the way, work your way around the long way to the library. Meet me there in three days, it should be safe…” 

“Three days?” She gaped at you. “No, I can’t…” 

“Yes you can,” you said, firm enough that you believed it, too. “Yes you can. I’ve taught you everything I know, you can make it. It’s just three days, you’ll be OK. You’re so strong and you’re so smart, you’re going to be OK. I will always find you. I will always protect you, I will always keep you safe. I promise.” 

You pulled her tight to you and kissed her temple. 

“I love you,” you breathed, pulling back to look at her face. “More than anything, I love you. I’ll see you soon, OK? Ride through the night, switch horses at dawn and keep riding until tomorrow night. You can do this.” 

“I can do this,” she repeated. “I can do this.” 

You looked to the dog at your feet, her tail wagging and her muzzle bloody. 

“Gattling,” you said. Her ears perked up. “Savvy.” 

She immediately went to your daughter’s side, ready to protect her. 

You boosted Savvy onto the horse, taking a final look at her. 

“Just three days, right Mom?” 

You swallowed, hard, before nodding. 

“Just three days. Be safe. Be smart. I’ll see you soon.” 

You didn’t have the luxury of watching her ride away. The second her, Nike and Perseus were clear of the paddock, you ran to saddle up Hercules. 

You needed to buy her time. 

October 13, 2023

You were still paying for your escape. 

It was hard to keep track of time. You were with Mitchum and his crew about two weeks the first time. That’s what it felt like, anyway. You were pretty sure it had been about half as long since they got you back. It was hard to tell. You were so panicked, in so much pain that time stretched and expanded and every hour that passed was an hour that you were separated from your daughter and you needed to get to her, you had to. She was just 11 years old and the world was not kind to girls. You’d taught her everything you knew but you had to get back to her, you didn’t want her to have to hurt and kill. 

When you’d escaped, you’d done nothing but search for her. You went to the library, tried to track where you thought she’d have come from but it had been weeks. There was no trail left to follow. You were about to return to your cabin to check there when Mitchum’s men found you again. You still had no idea where Savvy was.

You’d promised to take care of her. You’d promised her, you’d promised the woman who had given her to you a decade earlier. You’d promised. 

You had to get back to her. 

They’d chained you to a wall this time but you thought you might be able to pull the bolt out of the wood if you worked at it diligently enough. You pried at it until your nails were bloody and you kept going. You were covered in blood already, anyway. It was sticky on your skin where it had flowed from the cut on your head where your face had been slammed into the floor as one of Mitchum’s men had taken you from behind while you were on your knees. It had been a steady drip from inside of you since the first time Mitchum forced himself on you when you were brought back, whatever injury there was not given time to heal. The raiders seemed to like it when you bled on them. It even coated part of your arm where one man had cut you when trying to control you, not happy with your lack of compliance as he hurt you. A little more as you tried to pry yourself free wasn’t going to draw attention. 

The door slammed into the wall without warning and you jumped, shocking back from the wall. The man standing there smirked, stalking over to you. 

“Getting ideas are we?” He sneered. He didn’t wait for a response. “Thought you’d have learned your fuckin’ lesson last time…” 

He pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the cuff that held you before pulling you roughly to your feet. He didn’t give you any clothes, he just pulled you, naked, out to the circle of men around a campfire. Your heart sped up, tried to count them. You weren’t sure you could survive being at the mercy of the more than two dozen who were here, not at one time. He threw you into the dirt and you caught yourself on your hands and knees. 

“Here’s my favorite little bitch,” Mitchum stalked forward. You sat back on your heels and crossed your arms over your chest, trying to protect what you could. “How have you liked being back home? We keepin’ you entertained?” 

A few of the men laughed. You swallowed and peered around, hoping for something you could take advantage of, just one open space, one unguarded moment and you could escape. For good this time. You could do that, you could escape and figure out where you were and then find Savvy. 

“Figured out what you were hidin’ back in that homestead of yours,” Mitchum said, a smirk on his voice. You looked at him, eyes wide. Your stomach dropped and he laughed. “Didn’t think you’d like that. Can see why you were workin’ so hard now, she sure was a pretty little thing.” 

“Fuck you,” you spat. 

He laughed. 

“That can be arranged,” he said. “Fucked that girl of yours, too. Broke her in real good…” 

You were on your feet before you fully realized what you were doing, running for him. You grabbed at his face, snarling and grasping as you sank your bloody nails into his skin. You dug deep and he punched you in the stomach as one of his men pulled you back, forcing you to the ground. 

“I’ll kill you!” You shrieked. “I’ll fucking kill you!” 

He stalked forward and punched you across the face before grabbing a fistful of your hair, forcing you to look at him. You felt blood on your teeth and you wished it was his. You wanted to rip his throat out like an animal, wanted to claw and bite at him until he succumbed. 

“I wanted to keep the both of you,” he said, holding your hair tight in his fist, fingers against your scalp. “Figured you’d be a lot more fun with her life on the line. Too bad she couldn’t take it.” 

The world tilted on its axis. You hadn’t eaten in days but you still felt like you were going to be sick, like everything inside of you, the blood and the viscera that made you a living being, was going to come up. 

“Oh yeah,” he smirked. “Should’ve probably been more careful with her but it was just so much fun to hear her beg for her mama…” 

“You’re a liar,” you hissed through clenched teeth. “A fucking liar!” 

He kept his eyes on you and he whistled before forcing you to look at the fire. Two men stepped forward, each carrying burlap sacks. One was much larger than the other. 

“Show ‘er.” 

The first man, the one with the large bag, turned it over. A horse head fell out of the sack, landing on the dirt with a wet thud. It took you a second to recognize her, separate from her body, but it was Nike. You screamed, the sound clawing its way up from your chest and you instinctively reached for her only to have Mitchum rip you back by your hair. 

“Wanna see what’s in the other bag?” He pressed his mouth against your ear as you sobbed. “Decided to keep her head, thought I should pass it around, see if it’s as good cold…” 

You strained in his hold, trying to shake your head. You couldn’t get yourself to form words. There was the distinct feeling that someone was cracking you open, prying apart your chest and pulling your organs out one by one. They didn’t belong to you anymore. You weren’t sure they ever really had, they were hers and she was gone.

You couldn’t see her like that, see just her head, like she had only ever been parts and pieces to begin with.  

“Please,” you managed through the gasping, racking sobs. “Please, please, no, I’ll do whatever you want, whatever…” 

Mitchum smiled. 

“Good.” 

The pain of the brand barely registered in your mind, even as your body jerked with it. Everything seemed dulled and numbed. Time slowed and stretched and, for a while, the only thing that your body seemed to have space for was the agonizing pain of losing something you were never built to lose. 

It was a year before there was room for anything else. 

Early April, 2027 

“Bambi…” 

“Move, Joel.” 

You shoved past him. You’d need a sleeping bag, two sleeping bags, actually. An extra pair of boots, she probably didn’t have those. She’d have out grown the last ones she had, she would be 14 now, she’d be even taller, have bigger feet, longer legs. They didn’t give you clothes when you were with them, you doubted it was different for her. 

First aid, that you’d need. 

“You can’t do this, Baby,” he was following close behind you. 

“Yes, I can.” 

“You’re gonna get yourself fucking killed,” there was a strain in his voice. “Who knows what you’ll be walking into out there, how many there’ll be, how armed they’ll fuckin’ be, what they’ll do to you if they get your hands on you…” 

“I have to try.” 

You didn’t have a gun here. You’d have to get one, you were pretty sure Maria would give you one if you told her why you needed it. 

“Just…” Joel sounded desperate. “Just wait, until after the storm, just wait, I’ll go with you, we’ll look, we’ll…” 

“It’ll be too late,” you shook your head. “Someone got out, as soon as the weather clears they’re gonna move and we’ll lose them, it has to be now.” 

“Have you seen how shit’s pickin’ up out there?” He came around in front of you, taking you by the shoulders. “Baby, the wind is gonna knock you off your damn horse, you can’t help her if you’re dead, please, I’m begging you, please…” 

“What would you do?” You asked. “If it was Sarah, if it was Ellie. Would you sit here and wait? Or would you go get her?” 

He froze, looking at you. 

Your knife. You’d need your knife. You went to get it but Joel stopped you, his hand on your elbow. 

“Bambi,” he said quietly. “You can’t know that it’s her.” 

“It could be,” you said. “Joel…” 

“It’s been years,” he whispered. “Baby, it’s been years, there’s… I’m so sorry but she’s… They wouldn’t have let her live this long, she couldn’t have survived this long, she’s gone, I’m so sorry…” 

You shook your head. You had that feeling again, like the one you had that day around the fire when Mitchum had told you he’d killed her, the feeling that your whole self was being ripped apart. 

But you’d never seen that she was gone. You never held her body, never saw the life leave her eyes. You didn’t know that she was gone. She could be alive. She could. 

“You don’t know that,” you said, your voice thick. “You don’t…” 

“You barley survived,” he said softly. “You, the strongest fucking person I know and you damn near died. A teenager couldn’t have survived that, Baby, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry and…” 

“No,” you snapped, swallowing back your tears. “You don’t know, you don’t know them like I do…” 

“I do,” he cut you off. “Sweetheart, I am begging you, stay here. Please. Don’t get yourself killed, if it’s her we will find her as soon as it’s safe…” 

“You don’t know!” You pushed him back. He was costing you time, time you didn’t have. Savvy was out there, she was out there alone and afraid and you were going to find her. “Let me go, Joel. I know them, you don’t understand them, you can’t understand them…” 

“I understand them because I used to be one of them!” 

You froze. He was watching you, his eyes wide and desperate as he panted for breath. Your heart was pounding, there was a high pitched whine in your ears, something like a siren or when you first came to Jackson and could hear the electricity in the walls. 

“What?” You whispered, suddenly keenly aware of how close he was to you, of his hand on you. You could feel the outline of his fingers, each individual callus distinct against your skin. 

“I used to be one,” he said softly. “A… a raider, I used to be one. It was a long time ago but I know how they think, I know how they operate and… I’m sorry but if they’ve had her for three and a half years? She’s gone, Sweetheart. There’s nothing left for you to save…” 

You thought Joel was still talking but you couldn’t hear him. It was like you’d just jumped into deep water, the cold of it shocking and painful and the rush of it drowning out everything you knew. You couldn’t hear, couldn’t breathe, could barely see. 

Joel. Your Joel, the person you trusted more than any other, was a raider. He was like them, like the men who had torn you away from your daughter, who had raped you, who had tortured you, who now might be doing the same to your child right now and Joel knew them because he was like them because he had done those things, too. 

“Don’t touch me.” 

You were suddenly in your body again, out of that deep dark water and back in your house. Joel’s hands were on you and it was like they were on fire, you could feel it through your skin into your muscle, your bone, down into the marrow of you it hurt where his hands were on you. 

“Baby,” he said gently and you forced yourself to look at his face. You couldn’t breathe. You’d kissed him, told him things you’d never told anyone, all but begged him to touch you and he was just like them. 

“Don’t touch me!” You screamed it and he ripped his hands away like you’d burned him. You could breathe again and gulped in air, reaching for the back of your couch. You needed something to keep you standing, you felt like you were going to collapse or throw up. Joel’s hands were up, like he was waiting to catch you if you fell. “Don’t touch me, don’t you fucking touch me!” 

“You’re OK,” he said, keeping his hands off of you but stepping closer. “I’ve got you, you’re OK…” 

“Get away from me!” You backed away from him, looking for the best way out of here. You had to get away from him, he wasn’t safe, he was just like them and you had to get away from him, you couldn’t be anywhere near him. “Get away!” 

You said it again and again and again and you kept backing away from him until you were pressed against the wall. Joel stayed where he was and, when you were able to look at him again, it looked like he was in pain. 

“I’m away,” he said softly, his hands up. “Not gonna touch you, Sweetheart…” 

“Don’t call me that,” you were sobbing and you weren’t sure when you’d started. 

“What?” He whispered. 

“Don’t fucking call me that!” You bit out, staying back against the wall. He was so big, he could overpower you, he could hurt you, it would be easy for him. “Don’t call me that, not when you’re like them, you’re just like them, I trusted you and you’re just like them…” 

“No,” he shook his head, voice thick. He closed the gap between you quickly and you shocked back from him but he didn’t seem to notice, taking you in his arms and clutching onto you. But his touch made your skin crawl, everywhere his body was against your own screaming in panic. “No, not like that, I never… I never did what they did to you, Sweetheart, please, you have to believe me, I never did that, never. I just…” 

“I trusted you!” You sobbed, your legs collapsing from beneath you. Joel clung to you, keeping you from falling to the floor, but you hated his hands on you, suddenly feeling like hands you’d hated so much. You twisted and fought to get away but he just held onto you. “I trusted you, you made me love you, I let you inside of me and you’re like them, you’re just like them…” 

“I’m sorry, Baby,” his voice was thick and wet. “I’m so sorry, I wish I could take it back, wish I could change it…” 

You managed to firmly plant your feet on the ground and you shoved against his broad, firm chest, desperate for distance from him. 

“Don’t fucking touch me!” 

He let you go and you scrambled back from him, fighting to breathe. He was looking at you, tears in his eyes. 

“Baby, please,” he whispered. “Please just… let me take care of you, I understand what…” 

“I don’t want anything to do with you,” your voice shook. 

“Bambi…” 

“Get out,” you managed. 

He said your name. Your real name. 

“Get out!” You screamed, so loud and harsh you felt it ripping out of you. “Get out of here, get away from me, get out!” 

“I’ll go!” He kept his hands up. “Just gotta promise me…” 

“I don’t gotta do shit for you,” you shook your head. 

“Promise me you won’t do anything that will get you hurt,” he said softly, He was crying, too. “Please, I’m begging you, I’ll do whatever you want just promise….” 

“I won’t, now get out!” You yelled. “Get out, get away from me!” 

“I’m going,” he said quickly. “Please… Please, be safe, please.” 

You watched as he made his way to your door but he stopped and looked back at you. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “For… for all of it, I’m so sorry.” 

He closed the door behind him and you collapsed to the ground and sobbed, clutching onto yourself like it was going to keep your body intact but it still felt like you were going to shatter into a million pieces and there would be no one to help put you together again. 

You weren’t sure how long you were there on the floor but, eventually, you were able to make yourself move again. 

You thought of Savvy, of your daughter, of where she might be, of how you’d promised to keep her safe. You got up off the floor, body numb, and grabbed your pack before going out into the snow. 

Next Chapter

A/N: Alright, yell at me. I'm ready for it.

There's a lot in this chapter, I know. It's long, it's rough, it's been coming for a while. We first got a hint of Savvy in chapter 4 when Bambi thought about Joel's possible relationship to Ellie and she's been hinted at regularly since. She's why Bambi knew to use ginger to help William's teething, she's why Bambi was specifically grateful to have another adult around when Marisa showed up, she's why Bambi keeps searching every time there's even a hint of raider activity.

And after everything she's been through, she can't just blindly accept Joel's past, that's way WAY too much for anyone who's survived what she has to bear.

I hope this didn't come completely out of the blue and I hope you're still up for reading more of this story. I hope it'll be worth it in the end. I think it will be.

Thank you for being here. This is a story that I feel like deserves to be told, even the dark parts of it, and I'm so thankful you're along for the ride. Love you ❤️

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust@ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost@beccerjune@mumma-moonchild@netonetoneto@mellymbee@purplelye@n7cje@flugazi@evyiione@randomhoex@aliengirl99@orcasoul@reds-ramblings@pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel@jenispunk@panda-pascal@sarap-77@flugazi@your-slutty-gf@daniegraceg@partyofone3413@cumberpegg@noisynightmarepoetry.@fifia-writes@grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123

[harrywavycurly]

How would Eddie’s southern!reader handle someone being flirty with him?? I love her👀😍😍

Hiii babes!!! Ohhh i love her too!!! I hope you enjoy these conversations of Eddie’s Southern Belle handling someone flirting with her Sugar Plum!💖

-find all things Eddie’s Southern Belle here✨

“Hold this for me will you sugar? I’m gonna go freshen up…oh order me a beer please? You know the kind I like.” “Sure thing ba-” “hey there…you’re cute.” “Uh…thank-” “Excuse me honey you must’ve slipped and bumped your head on this here wooden floor because I know you didn’t just call my little sugar plum cute?” “Sweetheart it’s oka-” “it’s not okay she can’t just go round callin other people’s boyfriend cute it’s rude and tacky and just…why are you looking at me like that my little puddin pop?” “What? You don’t think I’m cute?” “Oh now bite your tongue you know damn well you make my knees quake when I’m just thinkin about you.” “So what’s the big deal if she called me cute?” “Because I’ll be damned if someone else swoops in and tries to take my little dungeon keeper from me…I’ll be forced to raise all sorts of hell and I just worked a forty hour week and my feet hurt and I just want to sit and have a few beers…” “Okay baby let’s just have a few beers and maybe you can tell me more about…how I make your knees quake?”

“Don’t do that baby we are in public.” “I beg your pardon what can’t I do in public?” “Uh…did you…not just touch my ass?” “What in the actual hell did you just ask me?” “I uhm…uh-” “hold my purse.” “Oh no no…not happening…it’s fine.” “It’s fine? Someone putting their hand on your perfectly shaped tushy is fine with you? I think not sugar they need to be taught some manners…now just hold this and I’ll be back quicker than you can order me a drink.” “Baby please just-” “oh fine I’ll just take it with me!” “Oh no you’re not I know you…you’ll just use it as a weapon now just come on and sit with me and forget it even happened?” “But she touched you puddin..someone has to tell her it’s not okay.” “But you won’t tell her with words you’ll tell her with…not words.” “You’re so precious I could just eat you up…” “I’ll let you if you stay…” “you’re so rude the way you say things like that…they make me not wanna go lay a Texas sized can of whoop ass on that little heifer that pinched your hindquarters.” “I love when you talk southern to me.”

[novamariestark]

Ride it, my pony

Summary: Your fantasy to ride a cowboy comes true.

Warnings: SMUT Swearing, PIV, car sex, age gap, oral (m & f), protected sex, rough sex (mentioned not detailed), some dirty talk, interrupted masturbation.

Pairing: Tallahassee x f!reader

Word Count: 2667

You hadn’t meant for this to happen, neither did Tallahassee. Not that you didn’t think about it. You did. You met Tallahassee 3 weeks after the apocalypse started. You had travelled down to Austin, Texas to find your brother. When you get cornered and dropped your map, you get lost. You carry on driving until you run out of gas. You came to a stop at a junction, you got out your car, gun in hand to check the other cars. Suddenly, a car pulled up. The sound of the motor broke the heavy silence of the dead day. You tensed, your heart racing. You had faced many zombies, but you were yet to encounter a human. As the bright sun blinded you, you could make out a figure stepping out of the car. He was wearing a cowboy hat.

Immediately, your nerves heightened, and you raised her gun towards the man. He mirrored her action and raised his own gun towards you. You were filled with panic and confusion. Who was this man? What did he want?

The man spoke, his voice gruff. “Put down your gun.”

You hesitated, your finger twitching on the trigger. After a few moments, you did as the man said and slowly lowered your weapon. He tilted his head towards his car, silently telling you to get in. If your mom could see you now. Getting into a car with a stranger.

When you reached the car, you set down your bag and extended your hand to the man, introducing yourself as Phoenix. “I’m Tallahassee,” he said gruffly, shaking your hand.

That’s how you two met. How you went from ‘friendly strangers’ to ‘apocalypse fuckbuddies’ came two weeks after. You two were in a store, Tallahassee, of course, went to the sweet section, hunting for Twinkies whilst you went to the health section for some products, you were still a woman after all. The apocalypse unfortunately didn’t take away the monthly visit from the red devil. As you were grabbing the essentials, your eyes were drawn to something else.

‘Really? Now?’ you asked yourself, shaking your head. Not that you hadn’t thought about it. Tallahassee was an incredibly attractive man, and you always had a soft spot for bad boys and cowboys.

But just as you picked up the box, Tallahassee rounded the corner and when he saw what you were holding, he quirked an eyebrow, “Condoms? You expecting to get lucky?”

You shrugged, unsure of where your surge of confidence came from, but you looked up at him, “It's been a while since I've had sex. Could do with a good fuck,” his eyebrows raised even more. If they went any higher, they’d be hidden by his hat.

“Me?” he asked gesturing to himself, “You want me to fuck you?”

You shrugged again, “Always wanted to ride a cowboy,” she spoke shyly, looking away from him, your confidence quickly depleting. Why did you say something? He’s completely repulsed by the suggestion. But your thoughts were wrong. A smug smirk rested itself on his lips as he looked you up and down.

“All you had to do was ask, sweetheart,” he said, grabbing your arm, and as many boxes as he could before leading you out of the store. In no time, you were back in the car, and you found yourself in his lap.

And so, it happened. You unbuckled his belt and pulled down the zipper. You reached between you and took his half-hardened length in your hand, stroking him until he was ready for you. Tallahassee couldn’t wait any longer. He gripped your ass tightly, holding you up as you moved your panties to the side and guided him inside you. You moaned as you sank down, taking him fully in your dripping wet hole. The sounds and curses that fell out of Tallahassee’s mouth only turned you on even more. You arched your back, getting the maximum pleasure from the position you were in. A sharp pain shot up one of your cheeks and you shrieked in both pleasure and surprise.

"Oh my God!" You cried out, sweat dripping off your forehead as Tallahassee drove deeper and deeper. You slammed yourself down harder, meeting his thrusts, using Tallahassee's cock to pleasure yourself.

Each thrust sent shockwaves through your body. You watched him, meeting his gaze as the intensity of the pleasure threatened to overwhelm you. Tallahassee felt you clench around him, and he knew you was close. He leant forward, whispering in your ear, “let go for me, baby…”

His fingers dug into your hips as he felt his own orgasm approach, the feeling of your muscles contracting around him pushing him over the edge. Finally, with one last thrust, you screamed his name while he released himself into you, leaving you shaking and breathless.

You climbed off him, throwing yourself back into the passenger seat, feeling the soreness that would most definitely still be there tomorrow. She had gotten what she wanted. She glanced at Tallahassee and smiled.

“Thanks,” she said quietly, blushing as she looked away.

“Don’t thank me yet. That was me going easy on you,” Tallahassee told her, his voice firm yet gentle.

“Y-you want to do it again?” you stuttered, your voice barely a whisper. You were still surprised you were able to get him to fuck you this time.

“Don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he said, starting the car. You smiled to yourself; it seemed Tallahassee had a softer side after all.

He wasn’t joking when he said he was going easy on you. Over the next couple of weeks, he proved that every chance he got. No man had ever made you feel as good as Tallahassee did, especially not with just his fingers. His mouth was even better. He told you that you tasted almost as good as a box of Twinkies.

He loved exploring every inch of your body with his tongue, tasting, and teasing you as if you were a delicacy. Despite what you told yourself at the beginning, not to get attached, you had. You had fallen for Tallahassee but there was no way you were ever gonna let him know. You knew he didn’t want to form attachments in case something happened the next day. It could. You couldn’t see into the future. You could be a zombie tomorrow for all you knew. So, you kept your feelings to yourself and just enjoyed being close to him. Enjoying the endless pleasure he gave you. Well until you stumbled upon something unexpected.

Your brother.

Your curly haired, nerdy twin brother was now in the car with you, and you were in the backseat. You love your brother of course but you couldn’t help the frustration you felt when you realised that the chances of feeling Tallahassee’s hands on you again were looking very slim. The chance only shrunk when two girls joined you.

After saving the two idiotic girls from Pacific Playland and your brother finally losing his kissing virginity, you all went back to Bill Murray’s house for the night.

You headed up to a room, not really paying attention to which room you were in, you were just too annoyed and frustrated to care. You peeled off your jacket and chucked off your shoes before climbing onto the bed. If you couldn’t have Tallahassee’s hands, you could still have your own. You unbuckled your jeans and slid your hand underneath them. Of course, as you placed gentle strokes over your clit, you imagined Tallahassee’s big, strong hands. You nearly screamed as the door opened and there he was, tall, dark and handsome—Tallahassee. You froze in place, too embarrassed to move, as you realised you had been caught mid-pleasure.

His eyes lingered on your body for a moment before he asked, "Were you just masturbating?"

"U-uh..no, I was just...." you hesitated, unable to meet his gaze.

With a smirk, he approached you, running his hands over your thighs, just as you had been imagining them, "Want some help?" you nodded, probably too quickly but you were too horny to care.

Tallahassee tugged his shirt off and climbed onto the bed next to you. His kisses were hard and passionate as if he had stored it all up just for you. His hands gripped your jeans, yanking them off with ease. Breaking the kiss, you pulled your shirt over your head, revealing your tight, toned body.

“What the fuck!” screeched a voice from the door. You recognised the voice and quickly covered yourself up. An array of emotions cascaded through him—shock, anger. Disappointment?

“Don’t you knock!” you shouted at your brother, “I could’ve been changing,” you picked up Tallahassee’s discarded shirt and pulled it over you to cover yourself at least a little.

“Could’ve but no you’re here, fucking a guy 20 years older than you,” Columbus yelled, with absolute fury averting out of his eyes.

“So?” you asked, so what if Tallahassee was older. It's not like you had many options in Zombieland. Even if you did have other options, the only man you wanted was Tallahassee. You loved him.

After you and Columbus stopped yelling at each other, Tallahassee took a deep breath, and stepped up beside you, gently grabbing your hand in his, “I’m sorry you had to find out this way, man. But you should know, I love your sister,”

His revelation shocked both you and your brother. The man you loved, loved you back, tears threatened to fall as you looked at him, "You love me?" You asked in a voice barely above a whisper, afraid that if you said it too loud, you'd wake up from the dream.

When he nodded in response, surprise and joy flooded you. While his words had been perfect, what meant most to you was said in his eyes. You could see his love for you in them.

Releasing his hand, you wrapped your arms around him and felt his heartbeat against you cheek as your head rested on his chest, you said the words you had been too scared to say for so long…

“I love you too.” You told him before you placed a gentle kiss on his lips but you put all your love into that kiss. You pulled away and looked over to your brother, “You got 5 seconds, Col,”

“Okay, fine but at least keep it down,” he said as he walked out the door.

You walked over to the open door, “No promises,” you said slamming the door, shutting him out. You wasted no time crossing the floor and bringing Tallahassee into a kiss much rougher than the one you had just shared.

You wanted him. With a swift movement, you unbuckled his belt and pushed his jeans down to the floor. He stepped out of them, and you put your hands on his bare chest, pushing him backwards towards the bed.

Tallahassee was surprised when he felt hands around his wrists, pinning him to the bed. You recaptured his lips in another rough kiss. Your hips moved sensually against his, pushing your core firmly against him. Tallahassee felt his breath quickening as you continued to kiss him hungrily. His hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer. His hands crept up your shirt, his nails softly dug into your back, slowly dragging down.

You broke the kiss, sitting up to take off ‘your’ shirt and chucking it to the floor. Not wanting to be away from him any longer, you lent down a caught his lips again.

He inhaled sharply, but he didn't move. Instead, he waited in anticipation as you slowly trailed your fingers along his waistband. Then, you smirked and boldly palmed the area through his pants.

You let your fingers glide beneath the waistband of his boxers. His body arched as you touched his skin and he let a satisfied sigh escape his lips. His hands tangled in your hair and he lazily lifted his hips as you gripped the elastic to remove his boxers. You pulled them slowly and seductively down his hips, marvelling at the sight of what lied beneath. Every other time you two had sex, it was a rush. Now, in the safe confines of Bill Murray’s Mansion, you took your time to truly appreciate the sight in front of you.  His cock sprang straight against his stomach. You smiled slyly at him, your hand now caressing his member. You ran your fingers around the tip before leaning in and licking the pre-cum that covered the slick tip. you ran your tongue along the length of his cock, and he was powerless to stop the moan that rose up from within him. He attempted to remain composed, though it was much easier said than done. Every few seconds, a moan or gasp would escape his lips as your mouth moved up and down the length of him.

He moaned and ran his fingers through your hair as your mouth explored that most sensitive region of his body. You were unyielding in your pursuit, your lips and tongue dancing around his length. He felt his body tremble as you gently licked and sucked his shaft. His hands moved from your hair to your wrists, you whined as he fell from your mouth, “Your turn, Babygirl,”

“What?” you asked.

You felt an excitement and anticipation course through your body as he uttered the words, “Don’t be shy now, sit on my face.”

You quickly got off the bed to remove your underwear. You proceeded to slowly lower your panties, bending over in the process. Tallahassee watched, captivated, as they slipped down your legs.

“Don’t keep a man waiting, Darlin’,” he said grabbing your waist and bringing you towards him, his whiskey covered breath fanning your face, “I’m starving’,”

You giggled and moved to straddle his face as he lay back on the bed. Your hands lay flat on the wall above his head. You let out a small gasp of pleasure as you felt the first stroke of his tongue. Tallahassee moved expertly, alternating between slower, languid licks to harsher motions that sent your head spinning.

You shivered as he flicked his tongue across your pleasure button, an almost electric shock rippling through your body. You moans growing louder as the sensation increased, your hips starting to buck and writhe against him in order to maximize the friction.

It felt like your whole body was one giant nerve as his skilful tongue continued to tease you. Your breathing grew heavier, your eyes fluttering shut as you relished in the sensations coursing through your body. Until finally, with one last moan and cry of his name, you felt your muscles tense and your orgasm wash over you.

You lay down beside him, your breathing still heavy. Before you knew it, you were being pulled against his chest. He pressed a loving kiss to your forehead as you listened to his heartbeat. You closed your eyes, feeling safe and at home in his arms. You didn’t want this moment to end.

“Are you guys done… cuddling!?” You hear your brother’s voice echo through the mansion, “We got food,”

“That little spit-fuck is getting me back for the other day,” Tallahassee groaned throwing his head on the pillow. You giggled and kissed his chest.

“C’mon let’s go,” you smiled sitting up. He followed, pressing one more kiss to your forehead before you joined the others.

Your brother looked at both of you, barely able to control his laughter. “So you two are still a thing?” You gave him a warning look as Tallahassee grabbed your hand, leading you to the dining room. Once there, you watched as he laughed and joined in on the conversation. You kept quiet, content to simply sit in his lap and cuddle. You may have been in the same mansion as them, but you were worlds away, safe in the arms of the man you loved.

[inej-ruination-ghafa]

SUGAR - T.M

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Warnings: children, pregnancy, mentions of murder, guns, mention of character death

Pairing: tommy miller x fem!reader

Summary: the man who you never thought you'd see again turned up with some random child to your home with your husband and child

Wordcount: 6.5k

The cold weather was getting harsher and harsher every day and although you loved the town of Jackson, you missed the Texas winters from before the outbreak.

You looked around the town. Sometimes you didn't appreciate everything that you had but as you looked around, you realised how lucky you were to have him and to have this safe haven.

The world was full of criminals and thieves and murderers, titles that you had once held the mantle of, but now you just wanted to settle down in your little slice of paradise.

You and Tommy had been best friends since you were 18 and he was 22, the two of you having met through mutual friends but not really becoming friends until you were 19 and 23.

When the world as you knew it ended, you found comfort in one another and eventually in the fireflies. When that didn’t work out, you ended up here in Jackson where you could finally

You looked up, watching as he worked on the construction of a new building. He looked down at you, his face lighting up at the sight of you, waving in your direction. He flashed you that infamous smile, the one that made you smile even on the darkest days and you fell in love with him all over again.

You waved back at him before walking towards the gate when all of a sudden, you saw a huge crowd of patrolmen riding into town. Everyone watched and they stopped as they saw you standing in the middle of the street.

Maria stepped off the horse, looking at the

“Give me the gun,” one of the men, Richard, said, holding his hand out as he looked at the girl, his gun steady in his hand.

Her eyes flicked between the his gun and her gun and she scoffed, “Fuck no, why do you get one?” She asked, holding it tight.

Joel reprimanded the girl, you assumed that he had already given his weapons over, and she turned to him with a scowl, repeating her statement in anger.

Richard raised his weapon, repeating his statement with the same aggression and you stepped in between them, the barrel of his pistol too close to your forehead, “Why don’t we put the weapon down Richard, Tommy won’t like it if you blow a bullet through my skull,” you said, knowing the leverage you had.

Joel’s heart sped up at the sound of his brother's name, he was here and he was alive and that’s all that mattered. He felt guilty for the way that he had treated his brother, and you, back in the QZ and now it was time for him to repent.

You turned your back to Richard as he lowered his gun, holding your hand out and stating your name, “I’m sorry about him, now can you give me the gun. I promise one day you’ll get it back,” you said.

She nodded, not many people stood up for her like you had just down, ready to take the short end of a bullet for her. She handed her gun over and you thanked her, placing it in the empty holster on your side.

When you looked at Joel, you saw his elated smile, “Where’s Tommy?” He asked and you smiled at him, looking over at where your husband was working. Joel's eyes followed your gaze and when he noticed Tommy, you saw the visible joy on his face,

"Tommy!" Joel called out and the man turned around abruptly at the sound. He hadn’t heard that voice in years but as he turned and looked at his brother, you watched as his face lit up.

The two quarrelled constantly back when you three lived in the QZ and that was one of the reasons why you two left but as you watched Tommy scrambling to get off of the scaffolding, you saw that all of the anger dissipated as he rushed to his big brother.

He ran over to him, pulling him in for a hug. You knew how Tommy felt about Joel, how he wished things had been different with his brother but now he was here and you saw all of his anger go out of the window. Family meant everything to Tommy and finally, after years, his family was intact again.

He pulled away, that wide charming grin that you loved so much present on his face as he chuckled to himself, "The fuck you doing here?” He asked, hands on his brother's shoulders.

"I came here to save you," Joel said with that matching Miller smile that reached his eyes, crows feet turned up.

You missed them being this happy together, like it was before the outbreak. You missed the infamous Miller barbecues where Joel and Tommy would bicker and laugh and just have fun together. And you missed Sarah too.

Joel had this wide smile on his face as he turned around, one hand still on his brother's shoulder as he looked at Ellie on the horse.

"This is my brother Tommy and his best friend for the last 30 years?" He said, stating your name to Ellie, the biggest smile on his face.

The last time you had seen Joel, he had stormed into the apartment that you and Tommy shared in the QZ, arguing with his brother over your decisions to go with the fireflies to a different QZ. You had made a mistake that day by leaving but it had allowed you and Tommy to come here so it was all worth it in the end.

"We already met," you said, a smile on your face as you helped Ellie down from her horse.

The girl wiped her hands on her trousers before looking up at you, eyes narrowed at you, "Thanks for saving my ass" she said.

"He was never going to shoot you, I would have had his ass for it,” you said, looking back at Maria who was getting off of her horse.

“You should come into the tavern, we will get you a meal,” Maria said, leading the group inside and Joel marvelled at the look of it.

It was strange that after twenty years living in a QZ, he was in a bar that looked just like one from back home. You could see the awe on both of their faces as they sat down at a table, Tommy and yourself sitting opposite them.

Once they got the food out, they both started eating rapidly, glad that they had some food. Joel looked up between bites at the two of you and Maria who sat at the head of the table.

"There's more if you need it," Maria said. She was basically the leader of the patrols even though there wasn’t a status quo and Joel had noticed.

He looked up at her, spoon still in hand, "Thank you ma'am, it's been a while since we've had a proper meal,"

"Actually I don't think I've ever had a proper meal, this is fucking amazing," Ellie said, her mouth slightly full of food, a smile on her face.

"Sorry, Ellie, let's mind our manners," he said, turning to the girl. It reminded you of when he would scold Sarah and it sent a pain through your chest as you thought about her.

"I want my gun back," Ellie stated, narrowing her eyes at the three of you. She was a mistrusting child and although you respected that, she had to learn that you weren’t bad people.

Maria looked at you and Tommy before turning her attention back to the girl, "I think maybe y'all got off on the wrong foot," Tommy stated.

"Maria was going to have her guys kill us, that douche bag had a gun pointed at me, she managed to save me" Ellie said, once again believing that you had somehow saved her.

"They were always going to let you in if you weren’t infected, and Richard never would’ve shot you or me," you reassured and Maria nodded.

“Richard was going to shoot you?” Tommy asked, brows furrowed in worry as he thought about it.

You chuckled, hand patting his shoulder lightly, “It was nothing, I’ll explain it later,” you said, not wanting to bother poor Richard getting beaten up by your husband.

"We've got to be real careful who we let in this place, we're just trying to scare off those who want to hurt us," Maria explained, looking at Joel. She had heard stories about the man and she didn't trust him already and it showed.

Ellie's eyes went wide as she spotted the ring on your finger, "That's one big diamond," Ellie said, reaching forward to get a closer look at it and you extended your hand, a blush on your face as you allowed her to look at it.

"Thanks, my husband always had a knack for finding things, this just so happened to be his best find," you said, a smile on your face as you felt Tommys hand rubbing against your knee reassuringly.

"Who are you married to? I'd love to meet him," Joel said with a smile and yours vanished as you narrowed your eyes at him, unsure of how he had never noticed it before.

You and your husband shared a look before you turned back to him, "Joel, we're married, me and Tommy," You stated and he just looked at you, almost like he had frozen in place.

"Oh shit, congrats," Ellie said, her eyes also going wide as she looked at you two, Tommys hand reaching for yours and squeezing it, "Say congrats,"

"Congrats," Joel said absentmindedly and you could tell that he was happy for you but there was something holding him back. You didn't know whether it was the shock or if something had happened that they didn't know about but he seemed distant after that.

"I know it's weird seeing us like that but we've been together for over a decade now Joel, have you never noticed?" Tommy said, his brows furrowed as he looked at his brother.

It was true, you had first realised you loved him around 8 or 9 years after it all started and after that, you kept your relationship under wraps. Not because either of you were ashamed of it but because in the fireflies, you decided that it would be too dangerous in case something happened to advertise it so freely.

"You never mentioned it," Joel said, his grip on the glass tightening as he looked at the two of you. What you didn't know was that the person that mattered to him most, Tess, had died only a few months ago and he never got to tell her how he felt.

There was a guilt weighing heavily on his chest as he thought about Tess, the look on her face when she admitted to being bitten burned into his memory. There were so many things that he wished that he could have said to her but it was too late. That explained the bitter taste in his mouth as he looked at the two of you, happy.

Joel turned to Maria as he listened to her talk to Ellie about not having guns in the area, "Ma'am, we're grateful for your hospitality but do you mind if we have some time just for family," he asked.

"It's okay, how about a tour instead and then Maria can be on her way, yeah," You said, standing up and looking at the group.

You stood up, feeling Tommys hand slip into yours as you walked out of the door together. Joel looked at the two of you, confused as to how he never noticed the way the two of you acted together.

There was this heavy weight in his chest at the sight of you being happy. It wasn’t because he was jealous, it was because it pained him to see how much had changed since the outbreak, it pained him that Sarah wasn’t here to see her uncle and the closest thing she ever had to a mother end up together

As they walked back into the cold, Maria led them around, gesturing to the town around them that flourished with all the people around. It was a real community,

"Me and a few friends settled here a few years ago, just a handful of us. We built the rest of the wall out from there. It stops most raiding parties but we still find pockets of them," she explained.

Joel looked at her, brows furrowed, "No infection?" He questioned.

"Usually smaller colonies that have wandered off from the cities, all this open country makes it like Turkey shooting," Tommy said with a smirk before imitating shooting a turkey.

You hit him on the shoulder, scolding his joke and he just smiled at you. You purse your lips together in an attempt to hold back a smile but like usual, he managed to pass your defences and make you smile too.

"How do you keep this place quiet?" Joel questioned, noticing how there really were no infected.

"Being in the middle of nowhere helps, we don't advertise what we have, we stay off the radio," Maria explained.

That comment made Joel tense up. He had been worried sick about the two of you, you were really the only family he had left, and all this time he could have reached you but this woman had been stopping him. It made him mad.

He was pulled out of his train of thought by you listing the places in town, "House of worship, multi faith, school, that's where I work," you said.

Joel smiled at you, "Your degree is coming in handy," he said, remembering the days that you would come to his and Tommy's house, arms stacked with work.

"Was hoping it would one day," you said, chuckling at the end before continuing to list the places in town, "That's laundry, old bank is the jail but we don't really need it,"

"We drew electricity from the dam, we got sewers, heaters, and light," Tommy explained, proud of everything they'd achieved here.

Joel scoffed in disbelief, "This place actually fucking works," he said, shocked that this was a real functioning town.

They walked towards the outskirts of town, away from the bustling life and towards the farms and the stables.

Ellie broke the silence in the group by turning to Maria "So, you're like in charge?" She questioned.

The woman looked back at her, shaking her head, "No one person is in charge, I'm on the council and so is Mrs Miller here," she said, looking over at you.

You smiled to yourself. You may have been married for just over three years but to hear someone call you Mrs Miller was still a bit of a shock to the system. You could also tell that it shocked Joel just by the way he flinched slightly at the words.

"It's democratically elected and there's about three hundred people here including children. Everyone pitches in and we rotate work except for specialist roles like teaching or doctors," you explained.

Tommy nodded, his hand still in yours as he used the other hand to gesture to the scenery, "Everything you see, everyone pitches in and it's all shared," he explained, nodding his head.

Joel's nose scrunched up as he turned to look at his brother, "So uh, communism?" He questioned.

Tommy made a sound in disbelief, something half between choking and a scoff, "It's not like that," he said, a smile on his face as he chuckled at the absurdity of it.

"It is like that, literally. This is a commune, it's communism," Maria said, looking back at him.

He froze in his spot for a second, his entire life flashing before his eyes as his entire belief system was flipped on its head. He looked like he was going through a hundred emotions in a minute as he comprehended the statement.

You laughed to yourself, hitting your husband's arm jokingly, "Imagine if 29 year old you could see yourself now Mr Desert Storm," you teased.

You started to walk away and he shook his head, trying not to think about the way he lived and started to follow you, arm wrapping around your waist as you stopped at the stables.

Maria showed Ellie the horses and you watched as she grinned at them, petting the horse like she'd never seen one before.

"I've got to go do some work but could you get them settled in?" Maria asked, normally it was her job to do that but it had been really busy recently and you understood.

"Yeah, of course," you said with a smile, "And could you bring Lizzy back, she's over at Linda's,"

"Of course," she said, placing a hand on your shoulder before turning to Joel and Ellie who were still standing by the horses, "I'm glad you guys are here"

Maria walked away and Joel watched her, eyes narrowed. You could tell that he still didn't trust her completely and though it was understandable, Maria was a good person and he needed to learn to trust her.

"So you can all get set up in the house across the street from ours, two bedrooms, it's nice," Tommy said, and Joel nodded.

You looked at him, "I can take Ellie over there if you two want to catch up," you said.

Joel looked at Ellie, the girl's eyes wide almost like she was scared to be separated from him.

"Yeah, okay, you'll be fine," Joel said, nodding his head. After years apart, he was glad to be able to spend some time with his brother.

You chuckled, "Come on kid, I'm not that bad," you said and she smiled at the joke, nodding her head.

You quickly walked over to Tommy, pressing a kiss to his cheek before walking towards Ellie again, the two of you walking away in conversation.

Tommy smiled to himself and Joel watched as his brother pressed a hand to the spot where she had kissed him, almost like a little child who'd been kissed for the first time.

It was the first moment where Joel really saw the love between the two and he smiled to himself, patting his brother on the back as they walked towards the bar.

It was empty when they got there, like it normally was at midday, and Joel sat down at the bar, still marvelling at the fact that it was all real.

Tommy stood behind the bar, pouring a glass of whiskey for his brother, watching as Joel's eyes went wide at the taste of fresh and real alcohol.

'It doesn't seem like you or sugar aged much," Joel stated and Tommy smiled at the nickname. The gang of smugglers you were running with back in the early years of the outbreak had labelled you with it after a series of events that lead to you being branded the nicest person in the gang.

"You on the other hand," Tommy joked as he walked around the bar to get to his brother, sitting down on the stool and taking a sip from his drink.

"How long have you two been a thing?" Joel questioned. He had always assumed that the two of you had feelings for each other but it was never confirmed to him.

He had always seen the way that you’d sleep in the same bed, holding each other after nightmares, going partying in your early twenties before the world collapsed, laughing even when the world was crumbling around you.

"Since 2010 probably, that's when I realised I loved her you know. Then obviously we were in the fireflies so we hid that from them and we've been married since we got here so about four years," he explained, a smile on his face as he reminisced.

He couldn’t imagine a life without you. When the world got too dark, you were the light that brought him back. You were the one who made him smile when the world seemed to be dull and boring, killing all the joy. You were the one who saved him from himself when he got too far into that hole of darkness.

"I'm glad you're happy," Joel said, a half hearted smile on his face. He meant it but there was something in his heart that burned at the idea of Tommy being happy in a world where he wasn't.

"Thanks for still giving a shit about me," Tommy said, raising his glass and the two men cheered to the alcohol.

Tommy watched as his older brother walked around the empty pub as it had not opened yet, he looked around at the decoration, being taken back to the time before the outbreak where this was normal, "How's Tess?” He asked. He knew you would want to see her again because you were both so close before the fireflies and he knew you regretted what you had said to her before you left.

Joel turned around, a vacant look in his eyes but a smile on his face, "She's fine, alright," he said, not mentioning the fact that she was dead because it was too hard. Joel Miller had always avoided the hard conversations.

"Good, you’ll have to bring her here, I know Sugar would like it. Who's the kid?” He asked and Joel shook his head, walking back over.

He shrugged his shoulders, feeling the weight being taken away for just a second, "Some fireflies daughter and she's trying to find her family. I was heading in this direction," he said and Tommy smiled, not noticing how he ignored the mention of bringing Tess here.

For the first time in years, he saw the good man that was his brother before the outbreak, the one that wanted to help, "Good to see your heart," he said, hoping his brother could stay. If he was able to stay then they could be a family again and his children could have an uncle and maybe it would bring some joy back to Joel's life.

"You know where they might be?” Joel asked, taking another sip from his drink as he sat back down.

"There's a base at the University of Eastern colorado but it's a bit fucked up in the weeks ride there," he explained, he knew how dangerous that trek can be with the raiders and the infected, "It's not an easy trip,"

"I made it across the country, the two of us can make it from here to Colorado," Joel said, a smile on his face. He wanted to spend more time with his brother and this was a perfect opportunity to have him back.

"I can't go," Tommy said, staring at the glass, his finger tracing the rim of it. He had too many things waiting for him here and he couldn’t risk his life, he couldn’t let his daughter grow up fatherless.

Joel scoffed, angry that his brother wasn't going to come, "Why, cause Maria won't let you? Is she the one who kept you off the radio, is that why you stopped messaging me back?' He questioned and Tommy could feel his disdain for the woman.

"After me and Sugar left the fireflies, she was in bad shape. I didn't think she'd make it and Maria saved us, that's when I realised that I wanted a normal life with her," he explained as he thought back to it.

You had been shot in a bad fight and he had stumbled across the group of men patrolling and Maria had offered to bring you two back in and help you out after they had determined that you were not infected. Her best doctors had saved your life and Tommy would be forever indebted to them for that.

"They didn't have to take us in and all we had to do was follow the rules," he said as he looked at his brother who stood up, an angry tone to his voice.

"I'm your brother," he exclaimed, looking at him,

"I'm aware, they're very protective of this place and for a good reason," Tommy said, standing up as well to look at his brother.

"I know, the wrong people may show up. Is that what I am? The wrong people?" He questioned, clearly feeling threatened. He knew what his brother did when he felt backed into a corner.

Joel scoffed, "The things you judge me for, I did those things to keep you alive, to keep your wife alive," he said, spitting out the second to last word almost like he was judging him for what he had to do.

"We did those things, they weren't just things. We murdered people and I don't judge you for it. We survived the only way we knew how but there were other ways,” Tommy explained. That was exactly why he had joined the fireflies, because that was another way and when they didn’t work out he came here and he was never planning on leaving.

"If you knew the shit I've been through the last few months-" Joel said and Tommy cut him off,

"I'm a father now," he stated, looking over at the man. He knew how that was going to affect his brother because he knew how much he suffered when Sarah died.

He had wanted to tell him from the start, tell him about his little girl and how amazing she was, how she reminded him of Sarah when she was a baby but he didn’t want to trigger Joel, he was witness to his anger when it all happened. "We've got a little girl, she's two and the missus is a few months along now, we think it's gonna be another girl but she wants to keep trying till its a boy,"

Joel had never seen his brother smile that wide, like there was nothing else in the world that he could ever want. Tommy was genuinely happy. You had given him everything that he didn’t think he deserved, a home, a family, somewhere that he didn’t have to be scared of.

"I gotta be more careful," he said, his voice breaking slightly as he thought about it. He had to stay because he couldn’t bare seeing his little girl like Sarah, bleeding in his arms, "I'm still scared of being a bad father but I feel like I'm doing well so far,"

Joel poured himself another drink as all of the thoughts ran through his head. He felt like he had failed as a father. His daughter should be 32 this year but she wasn’t because he had failed and it scared him that now his younger brother was in his position and he was making the choice he should have made, he should have protected his family better.

"Guess we'll see," Joel said, taking out his anger and frustration in the only way he knew, at his brother.

"Guess we'll see? That's all you got?" Tommy said with a scoff, angry that his brother wasn’t proud of him and that he didn’t care, "I want you to meet your niece, stay around to see the other kid and any more we might have,"

Tommy wanted to be upset that his brother was letting him down again but he had been letting him down since they entered the QZ and it wasn’t going to change now.

"Just because life stopped for you doesn't mean it has to stop for me," Tommy spat out, getting closer to his brother.

"I'll grab some supplies and be out of your hair by the morning," Joel said before storming out of the bar, leaving Tommy there.

The man reached up to a chain on his neck that had a locket, a picture of you and him and your little girl in there, the only picture he had. It was all he needed to remind himself of what he had built here with you, what he was risking even considering going with Joel.

You took your jacket off, watching as Ellie went upstairs to get changed into some of the clothes that you had gotten ready for her as well as some things that you thought would be useful.

As you walked to the kitchen, grabbing two glasses and waiting for Ellie, you looked down at your stomach.

You were five months along now. You had never imagined yourself as a mother when you had met Tommy and you never imagined it when the outbreak started. Now you had this white picket fence life that seemed like something plucked out of a daydream - as long as that fantasy included infected and constant raiders.

Ellie was upstairs, looking at the spare room. You had given her some new clothes and a warm jacket for her to wear and she was grateful thaat you were giving this all to her.

As she looked at the house, she wondered if this was what people lived like back before the outbreak, if this is what her life would’ve looked like if she would have had a family before it all.

Once she was changed, she walked downstairs, looking at the living room. Ellie had never seen a real house before and this one felt like a home, with art on the walls and a comfy looking sofa and kids toys thrown on the sofa - she wasnt quite sure what that was about yet though.

That’s when she noticed the placard on the top of the mantelpiece. It was a sign that had two names of people on it, Sarah and Eliza, the two having died months apart at the start of the outbreak.

She watched as you walked around the kitchen, cleaning up small things on the side as you waited and that’s when she noticed the baby bump that hadn’t been evident before under your jacket.

"You're pregnant," she stated. Now that the girl was thinking about it, she had never seen a pregnant woman before.

"5 months," you confirmed, watching as she came in and sat down at the table, “Me and Tommy have another kid, a little girl, she’s two,”

She nodded her head, “That’s why there’s kids toys in the other room,” she stated ad you nodded, chuckling slightly.

“Yeah, I havent had time to tidy that up yet,” you said, looking at the other room and then at the girl at the table, "Did you get what I gave you?"

Her nose scrunched up as she remembered the menstrual cup that you had left her - Maria had been the one to find the extraordinary invention, "Weirdest gift ever," she stated.

You chuckled at her reaction, "You'll thank me for it one day," you promised, asking if she wanted a drink and then proceeding to pour her a glass of water, handing it to her, "Maria can cut your hair later if you like, she's really good at it,"

"Did she used to be a hairdresser?" Ellie questioned, having assume that she was just working on the patrols.

"No, she used to be a lawyer basically," you stated, sitting down next to her.

She looked at you, watching as you took a sip from your water, "What did you used to do?" She asked and you noticed that the girl was very inquisitive.

"I had just graduated university to be a teacher, I was 25 and then it all went to shit," you explained, remembering it all.

There was a part of you that missed the world before, the partying with Tommy at night and the laughing as you ran through the park, drunk off of your asses, and the laughs at the library even as the librarian scolded you. Now that you thought about it, you two were always destined to end up together.

As silence fell between you two, you looked into the other room, eyes falling on the memorial placard that you had seen Ellie looking at and brought it up, "You were looking at the memorial,"

She nodded, face softening as she remembered seeing it. The kids had been 12 and 22 when they had died, "I'm sorry about the kids," she said.

Your face scrunched up as you thought about it, hoping she didnt think you were old enough to have had a 22 year old in 2003, "They're not mine, Eliza was my little sister. Sarah was Joel's daughter," you stated, “I’m only 45,”

You thought that the shocked look on her face was from your age and before you could be too offended, you realised that she probably didnt know about Sarah and everything that had happened in Joels past.

"You didn't know, shit," you swore as you looked at her. You didnt mean to overstep, you knew how private he was and how he never wanted to discuss Sarah, hell, he didnt want to ever discuss life before the outbreak because it was that difficult and whilst you understand, you also believed he needed to talk about it.

She shook her head, "No, it's okay. I guess that explains him a little," she said, a half smile on her face that was almost apologetic.

"He's a good man even though we did bad stuff together," you said, recalling the smuggling missions that you went on with Joel.

Before the outbreak, he had been one of the kindest men that you had ever met, rough around the edges but soft when he got to know you. After Sarah died, you realised that she was the only thing that stopped him from losing faith in humanity and without her, lost a part of himself.

Ellie looked at you confused, "You were in the gang that killed people?" She questioned, having heard all about Joels escapades.

You nodded, you had done bad things to make your way through the apocalypse, "Yeah, Tommy saved me that night, brought me with him and Joel and Sarah," you explained, “I had to do what i had to do to survive, and that meant hurting people,”

It was difficult to think about that time but since then, you’d grown and tried to find a way to make the world better and when that failed, you ended up here where you managed to make your world better, your world with Tommy.

Tommy had told you that Joel had asked him to take the girl to the fireflies, that he wasn't able to do it yourself and as much as he protested, he agreed. You knew that it was the right thing for him to do, that it was in his nature to help someone and you knew that Ellie would be in good hands with him.

He had said his goodbyes that night, holding you until the sun came up and he had said goodbye to his daughter in the morning, trying not to cry as he walked out of that door. You had sat there for a few minutes, trying to hold back the worry but you knew that you had to go and see your husband one more time.

So as you rushed to the stables, hoping to see him one more time before he left, you saw Joel and Ellie also standing there, “What are you doing here, sugar?” Your husband questioned, looking at you.

You looked between the group who were looking at you and your daughter as she rested on your hip, “I wanted to say goodbye, again,” you said, feeling a little stupid now that you said it out loud.

“Joels going to take her now,” Tommy stated and you nodded, the weight falling from your shoulders as you knew he would be staying with you again.

When you looked over at Joel, he was staring at your daughter with those wide eyes that you had only seen a handful of times. He seemed in shock as he looked at Lizzy, at the way that she looked just like Tommy, the deep brown eyes, the quirk to her little smile.

“She’s ours Joel,” Tommy stated and he nodded, pursing his lips as if he was trying to hold his tears in

You looked down at the girl who was hiding in your shoulder, not looking at the other man, “Baby, this is your uncle Joel. Joel, this is your niece, Elizabeth Sarah Miller,” you explained.

His eyes went wide, you’d both named her after Sarah, “Elizabeth?” He questioned. That was Sarah's middle name as well as your younger sisters full name and he tried to keep in the tears as he thought about it. And the fact that she had been named after Sarah made the tears well up in his eyes.

“Do you want to hold her?” Tommy asked and the man nodded, allowing his brother to hand him the little girl.

Joel held her in his arms, a smile on his face as she babbled to herself, hand coming up to his hair and tugging on it slightly. Tommy apologised, stating that she was on the stage and Joel didn’t care, gently removing the girl's hands and smiling at her.

“She’s named after those we lost,” you said, listening to the girl talk to Joel in broken sentences. He nodded, looking over at you.

Ellie watched the interaction; she’d never seen Joel’s smile be that wide before. That's when the little girl reached her arms out for Ellie, “You can hold her if you want,” you said and her eyes went wide.

She questioned you and you nodded, watching as Joel passed her over, “She’s adorable,” Ellie said, starting an easy little conversation with the girl.

You turned to Joel. Last night, Tommy had told you that Tess wasnt actually waiting back at the QZ, she had died. She had been a good friend to you back in the day and it hurt to imagine the infected finally taking hold of her, but at least she died fighting.

“I heard about Tess, was it fast?” You asked and he nodded.

“Fast enough, she didn't turn so,” he stated. It was the first time he had really discussed her death and maybe that was a step for him.

He was ready to let go of the past and to have this new family, a new start to his life that he didnt have before and that Ellie gave him.

“I’m glad,” you said, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Joel, if you want to come back here, the house is available for you,”

He smiled, “We might have to take you up on that offer,” he said and you nodded, looking over at Ellie who you assumed was the other half of the ‘we’.

You were glad that he finally had another start at having a family and as you and Tommy watched Ellie and Joel ride off into the distance, your husband wrapped a hand around your waist, the two of you knowing that he was going to be okay.

A/N, so as of releasing this, it is not a series yet but i definitely have so many ideas for Tommy and Sugar so if anyone is interested, I was going to write some prequel chapters like outbreak day or them leaving the fireflies. Also, this isn't my greatest work but I wanted to finally finish it and publish it because I love the idea so much <3

[captain-mj]

PLEASE write the character analysis for graves, i’m so invested in this

a little late but I really wanted to make this!

Graves was born in Texas to a not so well off family. They were poor in the way most people were at the time. One missed paycheck or too big emergency and everything would crumble. His family consisted of three kids. Graves being the youngest.

His mom didn't hide that he was not her favorite child. Due to her status, there was a ton of praise, but it came with a double edged sword of cutting remarks when people wouldn't notice. Everything was scrutinized. His actions ripped to shreds and put under a microscope. Always searching for something wrong.

She used religion as a weapon. He had to be godly. Holy. Never commit a sin. Never want for more. Greed, even for something as free as affectionate, was punished. Resting his aching body was sloth. He never made a fool enough of himself to look at men with lust. His hide had been tanned more times than he ever wanted to think about and the concept of privacy was non existent most of his life.

Graves saw it as her trying to make him a better man. Clearly that's what she wanted. His father was distant. Always finding excuses to not be around any of his kids. He looked at him with something just a step above disdain.

Grave had tried to emulate that with his Shadows when he started. It's how his father garnered his respect, clearly that's how he could too. Instead, it made them look at him like he'd scream at them. Not fearful. No. More... annoyed. As if he was a dog that would bark and snap and snarl for no reason but wouldn't bite them.

He started to act more like his older sister. Only with them. Friendlier. It felt clumsy from disuse.

In high school, he had been popular. He had charm, personality, looks. Maybe not so much height as he stopped firmly at 5'7 until senior year when he got the last two inches before stopping permanently. People liked him. He was smart, always willing to tutor, always trying to be better. His father always looked at him the same. HIs mom showed pride when she could show it off.

Graves made sure when someone did anything, he told them he was proud. That he was happy for them. Truly. He loved people most of the time.

His door had a double lock on it at all times. One with a key and a deadbolt. No one entered his room.

His parents didn't fight. Not truly. His father would have to engage for that.

Graves remembered the one day he did. He screamed at her. Something about his sister. He wasn't sure.

Traditional values were important. So important. Always stand by family. God comes first. Men are the heads of the household and women were homemakers.

Graves tried once. The lady was nice enough. Wanted four kids and to stay home. Everything he needed for his mom's life plan for him.

She was perfect honestly. Men told Graves constantly how lucky he was. And they were great friends. But when they kissed, when they held hands or when they touched, there was so clearly something missing. Graves refused acknowledge that his eyes lingered on men. That sharing a drink with one of his guy's did something for him that she just couldn't seem to.

First time they had sex, he couldn't look her in the eye. He still remembered the conversation they had afterwards. She was a good woman. Everything a christian should be. Graves found religion slipping from him day by day, but he'd always remember the way her cross necklace had glittered at him.

She had asked him gently what he was thinking about.

Graves wanted to tell her he felt ashamed of the sin they committed or that he just had trouble getting it up. Instead, he sobbed, the second time he could ever remember crying in front of someone, and admitted he was thinking of a friend of his from the church. One of his guy ones.

She had pet his hair and let him get it all out before telling him it was over between them. They lived together as roommates for six more months. Their dynamic barely changed. They still watched movies and still split the chores the same way because Graves had never felt comfortable being idle.

His father had sat on his chair every night. The kids rushing around him to clean everything. Always at risk of being screamed at by their moms if their chores weren't done fast enough.

Personally, he could never stomach just sitting there. If he ever had kids, a thought that felt more and more foreign, he would never just let his wife handle everything. He'd never call his daughter a slut or interrogate his son for being a faggot.

Graves started going by Graves instead of his actual last name in high school. One day, right after he turned 18, he changed his last name. He never told his family. Why should he?

When he told them he wanted to go into the military, his father looked proud of him. It drove him for years before one day, he looked around and it hit him. He was right back where he was as a child. With people yelling at him and forcing him to do things and at some point, he grew up in a way no one else did.

Graves was tired of that. He left. He started his own company. He picked his Shadows carefully. And it was going to be better.

It was. Then he dealt with death for the first time.

The Shadow's name was Dillon and he was from his hometown. Graves cried at his funeral. His mother told him to man up. His father hadn't talked to him since he left the military.

Graves didn't go to any funerals in that area again.

His mother called him to let him know his father died. He didn't cry.

Graves didn't cry when his mother went into the ground either.

He cried for each of his Shadows. He cried when he realized God was a foreign concept to him.

The aftermath of Los Almas was the worst few weeks of his life. Yes, he wanted to blame the 141. But he understood it. Survival was important. He couldn't seem to get the wrath in his soul to stay.

So he let it go. He became friends with Farah and Alex. Met Price. He refused to apologize for what he did, but Price seemed to accept it the same way he did. It just wasn't worth staying angry at some point.

Maybe it wasn't healthy.

Graves had been.... not quite out. No one asked so no one knew. Mila said he was in a glass closet but that didn't feel quite right. It implied everyone could tell.

Graves didn't like that. Not out of shame. Just... he was a private person. His room had three locks.

At some point, he gave the key to Price. It was more symbolic than anything. Until Graves kept the other locks unlocked so it actually worked. Anyone could knock at any point, but only Price could just walk in. Not that he ever did. He always knocked.

Graves and Price split the chores in the house. Neither wanted kids. It was nothing like his mother's life plan. It was perfect.

[fictionadventurer]

@aheartundercrossfire I couldn't resist the flash fiction opportunities this presented.

*

"I haven't prepared you enough for this meeting."

Ellie jumped, not so much because of the words, but because of the sound of them. At university, Sam had always displayed a proper Bostonian accent, but ever since they'd gone through customs, his drawl had been growing stronger. Now that they'd arrived at the Royal Ranch House, it was impossible to forget that he was really a prince of Texas.

And she was about to meet the king.

Ellie tried to laugh it off. "I might be a republican girl, but I can handle myself around royalty. I met the princess of California when she gave that speech on campus, remember?"

"Texas," Sam said cautiously, "isn't like other monarchies."

He unlocked a cabinet on the wall of the waiting room and held out a gunbelt toward Ellie. Two ivory-handled pistols sat within the holsters.

"You'd better wear this," Sam said.

Ellie reeled back. "Excuse me?"

"My dad's a stickler for protocol. Visitors have to be armed in the presence of the king."

"What kind of rule is that?"

Sam raised a what-did-I-tell-you eyebrow. "A Texas one." He held out the gunbelt. "I can help you put it--"

"Are you insane? I'm not wearing a gun!"

"Then you're not meeting the king."

"You're making that up!"

Sam sighed. "Refusing to wear arms shows you don't respect the king as a fighter. I want you to make a good first impression."

"I've never even touched a gun before."

Sam winced. "Do not say that where my dad can hear you." He fumbled with with weapons. "Look, they're not even loaded. It's just for the look of it. We're running out of--"

The doors flew open, and a herald announced the entrance of the king.

A short man with a pair of bushy side whiskers burst into the room, wearing what Ellie could only assume was Texan royal regalia. In the flurry of motion, Ellie couldn't make out much more than denim, a pair of elaborately tooled leather boots, and a truly enormous cowboy hat.

King Houston IV swept Ellie's hand into a crushing handshake. "There she is!" He pumped Ellie's hand so hard that her joints hurt. "Sam finally brought a girl home!"

Meeting the princess of California had been nothing like this. Ellie stammered, "Pleased to meet you, your majesty."

"Pleasure's mine! You're quite a looker. Sam sure knows how to pick 'em."

The king stepped back to get a better look and suddenly fell silent. "Who let you in here without a weapon?"

"I..."

Sam stepped up. "It's my fault, Dad. I..."

Ellie found her voice. "Sam said I could greet you with a proper Texas weapon, but I took too long admiring those pistols. No one makes a gun like Texas does."

The king's smile returned. "She's got a brain, too! You know, I had my doubts about Sam bringing home a Boston girl, but if you've got respect for Texas, it'll take you a long way." He started toward the door. "Come on in, and we'll get to know each other over a drink."

He rushed out of the room like a small whirlwind, leaving Ellie and Sam standing breathless behind him.

Sam gave Ellie a grateful look. "Good job."

Ellie smiled. "I told you I know how to handle royalty."

[pinkeoni]

Will Byers: The Final Girl

Looking more at Will through Carol J. Clover's Men, Women, and Chain Saws

After making this post about Will's gender expression in which I referenced and was inspired by Carol J. Clover's book Men, Women, and Chain Saws, a book which was mentioned in this article, an article which brought to my attention my Mori motherthroat, I have since made it through the books introduction and have gotten all the way to the end... of the first chapter. Like I said, I'm a slow reader.

But it's within this first chapter that Clover actually talks about the Final Girl trope, something that I, and others, have suggested that Will falls into.

And to be honest, I didn't quite get the Final Girl labelling of Will until I started reading Clover's book and made my analysis. But now, it all makes sense. So I wanted to do a deeper dive into Will as the Final Girl of the show, how he embodies this trope, and how he subverts it.

Defining Will as a "Final Girl"

The idea of Will being the Final Girl is a way to allow Will to have the masculine hero role that the creators seem to be teasing for him, without sacrificing his more feminine role of victim. The term victim-hero that I used in my original post is one that I got from Clover herself, which she uses in reference to final girls. Final girls spend the majority of their film suffering at the hands of the killer (victim) before eventually turning the tables and getting revenge (hero) or is saved by an outside force, typically (but not always) a male one.

The Final Girl idea for Will doesn't come out of nowhere either, as the show itself plays with slasher tropes. Season one opens with a culling from the killer with the initial lab sequence, and dialogue from Brenner suggests that there were other victims, with only Will being left as the lone survivor. Season four feels more slasher-y, with the kills being on screen and the killer actually given a name and a face (making Max somewhat effectively the Final Girl for that season) and the season ends with the idea that the killer is still on the loose, with emphasis given to his connection with Will.

Carol J. Clover describes Final Girls as follows:

“The Final Girl is boyish, in a word. Just as the killer is not fully masculine, she is not fully feminine—not, in any case, feminine in the ways of her friends. Her smartness, gravity, competence in mechanical and other practical matters, and sexual reluctance set her apart from the other girls and ally her, ironically, with the very boys she fears or rejects, not to speak of the killer himself.”

Where Final Girls are often boyish girls, Will is a girlish boy. So it's not just the narrative that aligns him with other Final Girls, it's his characterization as well. His non-conformity to gender norms, as well as his romantic reluctancy, is part of the trope.

This is most notably exemplified in season three, when Will is unable to relate to the heterosexual-romance drama that his other male friends seem to be intertwined with. Even Dustin, who doesn't share much time with the main crew this season, had a girlfriend, something that allied him to Mike and Lucas and set Will apart.

In season one Will feels more Sally at the end of Texas Chainsaw Massacre, after being tortured for the last chunk of the film by the slaughterhouse family, Sally makes her escape on the back of a pickup truck. Will spends most of the season evading the killer (who we later learn to be Vecna) until he is rescued by Hopper and Joyce. Will and Sally never turn a weapon against the killer, but they endure, out last, and survive long enough to be rescued.

But Sally's case is just one way that the Final Girl story can end, and you're more likely to find a different kind of ending— with the Final Girl turning the tables on the killer and getting back at him. Sometimes, but not always, by brandishing the killers own type of weapon against him.

So now we're in a post-vol. 2 world where the killer is still at large, Will has been confirmed several times now to be the center of the final season, it's said to be Will's "coming-of-age" story and the killer's reign can't last forever.

Clover talks about "phallicization" when describing the journey of the Final Girl.

"The tale is no less one of maleness. If the experience of childhood can be—is perhaps ideally—enacted in female form, the breaking away requires the assumption of a phallus. The helpless child is gendered feminine; the autonomous adult of subject is gendered masculine; the passage from childhood to adulthood entails a shift from feminine to masculine."

But is that really the answer? For Will to wield a weapon against Vecna and brutally kill him? For Will's femininity to be framed as something that needs to be overcome?

To go in the opposite direction (castration) hardly seems like a solution either, especially considering that the phallus belongs to gay man. To castrate would be to suggest that the phallus— sexuality— is one that is dangerous and needs to be removed.

So how do we find a middle ground, one that maintains the phallus without eliminating Will's feminine character traits? And is there a solution suggested in the text?

Oh rod motif, you never get old

In episode one the phallus is represented as something destructive, the rifle, which Will puts down and arguably because so, was afforded more time than if he had used it.

As the series marches on, the phallus never goes away— it just transforms.

The phallus has gone from something of fear and destruction to a representation of love and creation. But Will has yet to self actualize because the above scene is also an act of castration because Will doesn't claim proper ownership over the painting. The phallus is a beautiful display of love, but only if it belongs to someone else.

The show may have (unsubtly) foreshadowed this self actualization as it relates to the phallus and the defeat of Vecna.

And I don't really think that people at this point want to spend the rest of the post reading about Will with powers theoretics so I'll just leave the suggestion there for now and allow you to come to your own conclusions.

Final (Girl) Thoughts

The idea that heroism is male and victimization is female is an idea that is as old as and older than Odysseus, but that isn't to necessarily say that heroism and self-actualization is a purely male idea, something that may have been contended by the existence of Final Girl herself.

"At the moment that the Final Girl becomes her own savior, she becomes a hero; and the moment that she becomes a hero is the moment that the male viewer gives up the last pretense of male identification. Abject terror may still be gendered feminine, but the willingness of one immensely popular current genre to re-represent the hero as an anatomical female would seem to suggest that at least one of the traditional marks of heroism, triumphant self-rescue, is no longer strictly gendered masculine."

[eudaimaniacs]

unexpected visit (Javier Peña x Reader)

character/universe: javier peña (narcos) word count: 701 words warning/s: swearing notes: i thought this would only be 500 words, but damn. wrote this when i wanted to take a nap, but here it is. additionally, i don't see or read a lot of javier peña fluff (maybe i haven't seen a lot), so i decided to write this. hope you enjoy!

Javier wanted to go home badly.

This day couldn't get any worse, and his stress from work was clouding his mind. Years of trying to catch Pablo Escobar have led to many stressful days. Javier couldn't catch a break, even on the most mundane days. His partner, Steve Murphy, was lucky to have Connie on his side to calm him down. Even if the married couple had problems with safety, Steve and Connie carried each other through this mess.

Javier had a fiancé, [Y/N], but she was back in Texas while he was in Colombia. [Y/N] wanted to visit him to keep him sane, but Javier was concerned with her safety since many bombings and killings were happening in Colombia. His fiancé was devastated but understood as Javier didn't want another tragedy waiting to happen.

It was night, and Javier was allowed to go home and unwind a bit. Steve was delighted to come home and see Connie and Olivia, but Javier, as all nights go, knew that all he was going to do was smoke a cigarette and drink whiskey. It was a harmful cycle, but Javier disassociated himself from reality and the brutality of his world when he drank whiskey.

Stepping into the building, Javier saw a faint light in his room. Alerted, Javier got out his gun and went inside the apartment slowly. He was nervous to see whoever or whatever was happening in his flat. Javier heard light music and smelled some food he thought was from the next building.

Now in front of the door of his room, Javier prepared himself to kick the door and confront whatever was on the other side. He breathed, slammed the door, and pointed the gun to seemingly nothing.

"Jesus Christ!"

[Y/N] exclaimed as she saw Javier holding his gun and pointing it at the wall. Javier took time to register what was happening before he put down the weapon.

"What the fuck are you doing here, [Y/N]?" Javier muttered while taking out a lighter and cigarette. [Y/N] smiled and shook her head as she cooked dinner.

[Y/N] looked back at Javier sitting on the couch smoking. "It's none of your business right now, Javi. What's important is for you to eat dinner." Setting the plates, utensils, drinks, and food, [Y/N] beckoned Javier to sit with her and eat dinner. The whole dinner was silent as [Y/N] wanted to give Javier the peace he needed after a stressful workday.

"I still want to know why you're here, [Y/N]. I have told you many times not to come here to Colombia. It's not safe, and I don't want you roped up in this mess," Javier sighed as he drank whiskey and looked at [Y/N].

His fiancé softened her gaze and responded, "well, I had a phone call with Steve and told him that I was worried about you. You didn't call me for two weeks, and that made me nervous. I told Steve that if I visited you for some time, it would mean a lot to you." Javier rubbed his face and held [Y/N]'s hand tightly.

"You didn't have to do that, querida," Javier sighed and kissed his fiancé's hand. [Y/N] softly chuckled and led his hand to her face. She returned the kiss and hummed as Javier ate his dinner.

"I know you're worried about my safety when I come here, Javier. I feel the same way when you're working here," [Y/N] came closer and kissed her lover's cheek. Javier softly smiled, and the pair shared a passionate kiss.

"I missed kissing you, cariño. I missed your presence and love," Javier muttered and rubbed his hand on her waist. [Y/N] laughed and kissed him again.

Javier finally felt comfort after many years of stress hunting down Escobar now that his fiancé was here to visit him. Those cigarette and whiskey nights were things to keep him sane, but they made him numb to reality during the night. Nothing could compare to [Y/N]'s warmth and love, and he feels like he's at home again.

"Finish eating your dinner first, Javier, before you indulge in the things you missed on me."

Javier chuckled and couldn't wait to savor [Y/N]'s unexpected visit.

eudaimaniacs © 2023

[cloudlessly-light]

The darkest parts of me (3/5)

Title: The darkest parts of me (3/5) Summary: They find each other in a dark world where they do twisted things. The only way things could have become more dangerous, is if they were together. Funny how life turns out.

Unsub!Hotchniss AU.   Word count: 2,2k Rating: Explicit Warnings (for most or all chapters): smut, descriptions of violence, descriptions of murder, gore (nothing too explicit), mentions of weapons

They’ve been traveling through the country together for close to a year now, Aarons system working. It had almost become too easy, him choosing their victim and then a night spent somewhere in between twisted torture and twisted pleasure. Emily had never felt so free, being with him and she knew that he felt the same, telling her how happy he was that they had found each other frequently.

They don’t kill too often, sometimes taking weeks or even months in between each kill, but Aaron notices the restlessness in her easily, she sees the need for it on him. It’s an addiction, they both know it, neither of them wanting to stop even when they probably should. But as he feels the rush of euphoria when a man stops breathing from his hand, or Emily’s need for power and control is soothed as she finishes someone off, neither of them wants to stop.

“Would you ever do it again?” Emily asks out of nowhere one night. They’re eating dinner, having just arrived in Texas and when Aaron looks up at her she clarifies. “Having a kid? A family?”

“No.” He answers bluntly, because there wasn’t any point in lying to her. “Having children while living this life, I don’t know if that would work.”

“Do you think you could give it up?” She takes a bite of her chicken and watches as he thinks about her question.

“Honestly, I don’t think the urge will ever go away. If I stop, I don’t think I’d be completely content, not like right now.” He takes a sip of the overpriced wine that she loves and then takes her hand. “What about you?”

“I never thought I would, considering how life was with Ian, he would have been a horrible dad. But I think I might want a child, someday.” She feels her cheek flush at the admission, she had never told anybody that before.

“So you could give up killing?” His tone of surprise is obvious and he watches as she smiles softly.

“I don’t know. I guess I always thought that I would some day, it’s impossible to live like this forever without getting caught.” She squeezes his hand and smiles softly before continuing to eat her dinner.

Aaron nods, but stays silent because he knew she was right. At some point they’d have to stop. And if there was anyone he could consider giving it up for, it was her.

*

“I think we have a serial killer travelling the country.” David Rossi says, throwing files onto Jason Gideon’s desk. “A team actually.”

He waits patiently as Jason looks through a few of the files in silence and when he looks back up at him he knows that his friend has caught the same pattern that he has.

“How far does these murders go?” He asks from behind his desk, still holding one of the files in his hand.

“If I’m right about this, they’ve been at it for months.” Dave urges the other man to follow him and he leads him to his office. “But I think before they were a team, one of them killed alone.” The two boxes of files on his desk made Jason pause.

“When did you get all of these?”

“I asked departments all over the country to send what might fit into the unsubs behavior to us last week after getting a call for a consultation. Something about the behavior told me there was more than a single case.

For a few seconds it’s silent, both of them looking at the number of files of unsolved murders that might be related.

“Let’s get to work.” Jason says then, a heavy sigh leaving him as he does.

*

They had gotten into a sick form of roleplay. Aaron finding their victim and Emily using her charm on him, luring the man back to whatever house they rented for their trip. There he would wait for them, sometimes with a knife in hand, sometimes a gun, tonight he had opted for nothing, needing to feel the life drain out of this man by his own hand. He had raped women, five of them so far, tied them up with piano wire and somehow police had never caught him, but Aaron had tracked him down.

He hears the key turn in the lock, followed by Emily laughing, something sickly sweet and fake, a laugh she’d never use with him. The sound makes him itch, the restlessness that had been growing for hours almost becoming unbearable the closer he was to get to feel his fists breaking skin and bones.

“You’ve got a nice place.” Hamilton says, his voice sending a shiver of disgust through her as his hand grips her hip tight as they enter the dark house.

“Thank you.” She turns and walks backwards, a flirty smile on her face that all but disappears when the lights are turned on and she walks into Aaron’s strong chest. “Meet my boyfriend.” She grins as Aaron’s familiar warmth presses against her back.

Hamilton barely has time to react to the third person in the room before a fist connects to his cheekbone and he falls to the ground. Emily locks the door while Aaron continues to punch the man that’s made her sick to her stomach all night. But now it’s different, satisfaction settling inside of her as she watches the man she loves beat a man that doesn’t deserve to live to death.

“He has a wife.” She tells him while Aaron is taking a break, the other man laying unmoving on the floor, but he’s still breathing.

“It doesn’t matter, we’ll be gone tomorrow morning, I booked us a flight to Florida.” He grabs her jaw and kisses her as she hums into it. “I know you said you wanted a little vacation.”

“You’re perfect.” She smiles into another kiss, this one interrupted by low groaning at their feet and she looks down at Hamilton. “He tried to feel me up all night.” She grabs the gun from the table and shoots his hand without a moment’s hesitation as Aaron laughs beside her.

“Easy sweetheart, don’t kill him too quickly now, I want us to take our time tonight.” He takes the gun from her and then spits on the other man. “However, I do not like knowing he dared to put his hands on you.” With that thought he stepped on his other hand, hard enough for bones to crack and break and he screamed out.

“That’s it baby, make him suffer.” Emily sighed contently and went to grab one of the knives from the kitchen. It was Aaron’s turn to kill, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t have a little fun first, and ever since the first time using the knife, she had preferred it over her gun. Aaron had been right, if she thought she felt powerful with a gun, it was nothing compared to the knife. The rush of steel slicing through skin makes her laugh, something close to madness as Aaron grabs at her from behind, his hands driving her into a frenzy as he tells her to cut him again.

They fucked right next to him once they knew he would be too weak to get away. There was something about being watched getting them both off.

“He thought he could have you, but you’re mine.” Aaron groaned as Emily straddled him on the couch only a few feet from where Hamilton was laying, eyes half open as every ounce of energy was focused on trying to draw enough breath into his lungs.

“Show him.” She gasped and his hand wrapped around her throat. Sometimes she thought he imagined what it would feel like to kill her this way and the rush that went through her made her whimper. She wasn’t afraid of his darkness, because she had wondered the same, had fantasized about his blood on her hands. That’s what made it fun, the fear of knowing how easily they could kill each other a thrill unlike most.

By the time Hamilton was dead they were blissfully exhausted. It had been a while since they had created this kind of mess and as Aaron got rid of the body, Emily was cleaning up the blood from the floor. It had become a way for her to come down from her high, the mix of blood and bleach comforting and by the time Aaron joined her she was almost done.

“Everything gone?” She asks and he nods. He smells acrid from the lye, as well as blood and she scrunches her nose. “You stink, let me finish this and then we can shower?”

“Oh do I?” He wraps his arms around her with a smirk. “You don’t like the smell of a work well done?”

“I like the smell of you.” She kisses him quickly and then moves from his embrace and grabs the rag she had used. “I still don’t like the cleanup.”

“That’s because you’ve been spoilt, baby.” His tone is teasing and she looks up at him with a huff. “Would you rather have us be caught?” He chuckles when she rolls her eyes.

“Obviously not. All I’m saying is that the lye smells horrible.”

“But it works.” He reminds her as he removes his jeans that he had put on while getting rid of the body and goes to throw them away with the rest of their clothes to be burned and thrown away far away from their rented house tomorrow.

When he comes back, Emily is just about done and he watches her in silence while she cleans the last of the blood up, then they both go through the house to make sure not to leave any evidence, wiping doorknobs and watching out for any missed spots of blood.

By the time they’re in bed it’s late and they’re tired and sated in the way they only were after a night spent like tonight.

“So, Florida huh?” She asks, her words tickling his neck as she lays halfway on top of him.

“Yeah, I thought we needed a break.” He kissed the top of her head.

“You just want to get me into a bikini.” She teases with a grin and looks up at him.

“Well that too. But you can’t blame me for that.” When he slaps her ass with a grin she chuckles.

“I guess you can’t.”

*

It’s been weeks and they’re still no closer to catching the unsubs who’s been roaming the country. They were careful about not leaving any evidence, but the pattern was all too clear. And then they finally got a break, a young prostitute had come forward while being questioned about a disappearance of a man with a less than stellar record. Dave immediately knew that it was them, the victim fitting into their unsubs pattern flawlessly.

“It seemed like a couple.” The detective on the other line tells him as he holds the phone between his ear and shoulder while waving Jason into his office.

“Did you get a description?” He asks and puts the detective on speaker as Jason closes the door and sits down across from him.

“They’re white, both of them dark hair and dark eyes. Maybe in their mid-thirties. The man was tall, seemingly strong because he knocked out the victim with one punch. The woman carried a gun, had threatened our witness with it and told her to leave.”

“How did you find your witness?” Jason cuts in, this was the biggest lead they’d had since starting their investigation.

“She’s a prostitute, she knew the victim they had a… history.”

“So he was her pimp? Or a client?”

“Seems like it. She didn’t want to talk, had to drag it out of her. “

“That’s usually the case.” Dave agrees as he watches the wheels turning in Jason’s head as he figures out the puzzle pieces.

“How long ago was the murder?” Jason pulls out a notebook and takes the pen Dave is already holding out for him.

“About five months ago. We considered this a cold case until she was brought in on other charges, that’s when one of my men found out her connection to the murdered victim.”

“Okay, thank you. If you get any other information, please call us. And can you send over the sketch of the unsubs?”

“Of course.”

After the call ended, it was silent in their office for a long time. It wasn’t until Jason sighed heavily as he leant back in his chair that Dave looked up from his own notebook where he kept information about the unsubs.

“Who knows how many they’ve killed, but the victims are clearly a type. Are we dealing with vigilantes here?” He asks as Jason stands up.

“I think so. Funny thing is, a team, a team with a woman no less, shouldn’t be this violent and they most certainly shouldn’t be able to stay together without killing each other.”

They looked at each other, wondering how long it would take for this case to completely unravel.

[sunder-the-gold]

How halo-empathy re-contextualizes our Sankta Operators

I'll ignore Ezell (Enforcer) for this post, as we got to know him at the same time as we learned about halo-empathy.

Adnachiel

"In a show of humility, Adnachiel stands helpless in the face of loftier, theoretical topics, though everyone assumes he's just being modest. After all, as soften spoken and kind as he is, Adnachiel gives off the impression of being a clever and considerate young man."

Adnachiel didn't have to deal with that sort of misunderstanding in Laterano, where other Sankta would feel that he isn't being modest when a topic falls outside of his understanding of deterministic, mechanical principles.

On the other hand, he left Laterano before he was the requisite 12 years old for receiving his patron gun. We don't know how long he's lived in virtual exile before he became Infected (and thus exiled for real), but it seems like long enough for him to have adjusted to managing the expectations of non-Sankta.

Of course, that doesn't mean he can stop people from spreading exaggerated rumors about his intelligence and foresight, especially when he's got enough of both in reality.

Probably, his perceptiveness and analysis also helped him adjust to the necessity of watching and listening to other people to guess their state of mind. Philosophical theory is one thing, but facial expressions and vocal tones tend to have clearly observable meanings.

(Though I'm left wondering if his parents lied to him about the reason why they took him away from Laterano as a child. When a potential bully and a potential target both feel each other's emotions, would bullying still happen? Maybe this was an early-writing fluke?)

Arene

Where Adnachiel opened up to other people and studied them in return, Arene displays more introverted, self-focused tendencies.

Arene's troubling lack of sympathy for other people could owe to the several years he's spent exiled from Laterano following his infection with Oripathy, "from an early age". Younger than 12 years old, when Sankta normally receive their patron firearm.

Spending his formative years separated from his parents and surrounded by people from whom he could sense no emotions, with an underdeveloped ability to read emotions normally, and possibly with a unconscious sentiment of Sankta racial superiority, it's perhaps not surprising that Arene displays sadistic, solipsistic tendencies.

His third Archive File further mentions that he "tends to be a little sheepish around some of our other Laterano operators". One assumes this refers to other, unfallen Sankta who not only remind him that other people have internal lives of their own, but that there are some people who can still see right through him.

Ambriel

She's not just evading her taxes; she wanted to live where no one could empathically sense her desire to slack off. Possibly.

For that matter, her choice of weapon not only lets her avoid direct confrontations of a physical, mortal nature… the farther she could deploy from other members of the Lateran Guard or Notarial Hall, the less likely they could see or feel her slacking off.

When the Notarial Hall employed her to watch out for and locate students playing hookie from school, did they hope to inspire her to change by confronting "herself"?

Executor

He and Oren confirm that despite his apparently darkened halo and the unexplained device clamped onto it, he's not fallen. He's very much capable of sensing the feelings of other Sankta. He just doesn't care. Possibly, he thinks that feelings do not change facts, and he bases his decisions on facts.

This does not contradict what he says in his third Trust line. Rather it must mean that when he says, "I cannot understand other people", he cannot understand the reasoning of other Sankta despite knowing their emotional state. His actions could anger another Sankta close enough for him to feel their anger, but he doesn't understand WHY his actions provoked that response.

Exusiai

Texas: "Exusiai is my polar opposite. She seems to get along fine with anyone, but lets very few people close to her." Exusiai: "Texas is a handful. Even when she lets you close, she won't spare more than a few words. It took me a long time to figure out whether we were cool or not."

Exusiai grew up never needing someone to say more than a few words; she could know how they felt. She had to learn how to read someone as tactiturn as Texas because Sankta don't understand subtler body-language or unspoken words within words. Texas outright tells us that Exusiai finds it very hard to really TRUST other people; Texas had to prove herself through actions because Exusiai can't peek into her mind.

Which makes Exusiai's pledge of loyalty to the Doctor more impactful; even without halo-empathy, she's utterly convinced she understands and agrees with the Doctor. ("Leader… No, savior, I pledge this gun in my hand to protect you until the very end of this world.")

Mostima

This explains so much about Mostima, whom probably already wasn't the most social of Sankta. Before she fell, she had the Sankta empathy to assist her. Fiammetta didn't, but Fiammetta was raised by Sankta and knew how to bridge the gap, so Mostima still didn't have to learn anything. But after she fell, she lost almost all connection to other people that she'd taken for granted, and the effort to reconnect didn't seem worth the trouble.

Exusiai goes crazy not just because Mostima won't use her words to explain, but because words are all Mostima has any more and she was never good with them. Exusiai can't feel Mostima's feelings anymore.

This also brings a new dimension to how the Doctor managed to reach Mostima, and convince her that maybe making new human connections wasn't such a hassle (for her) after all. ("…I see now. When I thought of having a friend like you, the spark of joy I felt wasn't fake after all. Scrap what I said before, Doctor. Maybe I do need a bit of warmth in my life.")