#craig mazin count your days | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lokischocolatefountain · 10 months

Text

Purpose

Fandom: The Last of Us

Word count: 12.7k

Rating: PG13 for violence (Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, hurt/no comfort, mention of sexual harassment, minor character deaths, major character death, death of a child, grief, blood and gore)

Summary: “I think if he (Joel) could do anything or be anything, he would be a dad, raising his daughter. Whether it’s Sarah or— he can’t quite get there yet to say it’s Ellie but that's what he was put on this Earth to do. That’s why he’s been wandering around a little like a zombie himself for 20 years. He’s trying to find his purpose because it was taken from him.” -Craig Mazin

A/N: I’ve been writing bits and pieces of this for moooonths! Since the last episode aired. So I really really hope you guys like it. I love all the Joel & Ellie fics out there but there’s a hole in my heart where the Joel & Sarah fics should be. So here you go, a one shot of Joel Miller and his purpose in life, how he earned it and how he lost it.

20th July 1989

What do you want to be when you grow up?

It was a question that adults asked way too many times. Way too casually. It was as though they had forgotten what it felt like to be a teenager with a whole world of possibilities, the overwhelming feeling of wanting to be everything from an astronaut to an actor. They never accepted the answer they got from the kids. At least that was Joel’s experience. They always laughed when he said he wanted to be a singer. That’s not a real job, they’d say. So, he made up something that he didn’t even want to do.

Accountant. That’s what he told people he’d become. He didn’t even know what that job entailed. He just blurted it out, possibly because his new classmate’s dad was an accountant and that was the first thing that came to his mind. And because it was a real job unlike singer.

That also didn’t quite cut it for adults. You need to be good at math for that. They were right. He was no good at it. As he sat on the hospital chair, too afraid to move or breathe, he wished he’d been better at math. Maybe that would’ve gotten him a better job than building. He’d be in an office and make enough money for this.

The baby stirred in his arms and let out a low whine and his heart almost fucking stopped. She was so little, so fucking fragile. One wrong move and she could wake up. His mother told him to put her back in the crib, so did the mother of the girl who was fast asleep on the hospital bed. His mother-in-law. But he couldn’t. He was afraid that once he put her down, she’d disappear. She would. Both their parents were in contact with some adoption people and they were going through a list of names of respectable men and women with respectable jobs and good loving homes. There were some accountants on the list. They were probably good at math and didn’t have to get yelled at everyday for buying the wrong valves and choosing the wrong brand of grout. The prospective fathers were all at least a decade older than he was.

But he couldn’t put her down.

So he stayed awake on the chair throughout the night, his back hurting just a little but his heart full.

Wanting to be a singer was just a childish fantasy. Accounting was just something he made up to look serious in the eyes of grown ups. There were other ideas too— soccer player, fireman, cop. None of them felt right.

And what was it they always said about jobs? Do something you love and you’ll never work a day in your life? He’d never loved anything. Until now. Never found a purpose. Until now.

He cradled her close to his chest, supporting her tiny soft head with his hand. Fuck, her head was so little, so soft. His large hands already marked up by construction jobs felt unworthy of touching such pureness.

Sarah.

He can’t give her away. Not after the name popped into his head. He didn’t know why, couldn’t explain it to anyone who asked. But she was Sarah.

Sarah Miller, he thought when he realized he had a purpose for the first time in his life.

They told him he can’t do it, that he shouldn’t. They told him he didn’t know the first thing about babies. The girl he got pregnant— his wife—is hurt, said he can’t go back on their promise to give the baby up for adoption so that she can go back to school to be a lawyer. She said it will ruin her life and he had to agree. It will. The innocent little thing that continued sleeping on his lap did kind of ruin her life. She had to take a break fro, school, put up with morning sickness and bloating and back pain and fucking everything because of the baby. Raising her for 18 years? That would be the nail on the coffin of her dreams.

But he wasn’t the dreaming kind.

“I ain’t askin’. I know it’s not fair to ya. You already done everythin’, but…” I can’t imagine a life without Sarah. He had known her for less than 10 hours and life already seemed meaningless without her in it. “I’ll do it myself, okay? You don’t gotta do anything. You never have to visit. I just… I can’t give her up, darlin’. I promise I won’t rope you into this. I’ll fuckin’ disappear, never call you or write to you.”

“Joel…”

His mother thought she was a cruel girl to want to leave her baby behind when he, the father, stepped up to provide. But he had no feelings of anger towards her. They made a promise to each other. He was the one who broke it, not her. He would break all his promises to everyone in his life, no matter what, just to be his little girl’s dad.

“We’re too young.”

He nodded. He knew that. He’d been an adult for a grand total of four years and most of it, he’d spent drinking and working on construction. No transferable skills there. He was still kind of a kid and knew fuck all about raising a whole new person. The prospect was terrifying. It was even more terrifying to lose her, though. It felt like if he was taken away from his baby girl, he would fucking die.

“It’ll be harder to do anything. Parties, work, college, sleep. Everything will be harder.”

“Yeah,” he croaked, feeling tears well up in his eyes. He was only now old enough to legally get very drunk and illegally continue smoking joints in the storage shed with his friends. They had only recently bought themselves a proper plate and silverware. Eating out of the pot used to be more than enough before.

He’d just started taking care of himself. Just started doing his laundry in the local laundromat instead of driving his dirty clothes all the way to his parents’ for his mom to wash and fold up for him. He’d just started separating his whites from his coloured clothes.

It felt like his heart could fucking leap out of his chest when he wrote it down.

Name: Sarah Miller

Father’s name: Joel Miller

When I grow up, I want to be a father. This would not have been an acceptable answer to the adults. They liked hearing that from little girls, but not from boys. Adults thought boys should have more ambition than that. Fuck, he was an adult. Fuck. Fucking hell.

She asked for a divorce, reluctant and scared. He could tell she still loved him. It may have been their parents’ idea for them to marry, but they did have a good 7 months of marriage. They were friends, kind of. Despite the young parenthood and the anger about damaged condoms and who was responsible for getting drunk enough to have sex using a broken condom, they didn’t fight much. In another world, they would have been a good couple. Not this one. Losing her hurt, but he had to choose between her and his baby.

He signed the papers.

She visited the baby a few times, but never held her. Her older sister dropped off breast milk from her a few times and he was so grateful. He heard that it was very important for the baby’s health. He gave her formula, but this was more important according to the doctor. She said the mother’s milk had some stuff in it that the baby really needed. He didn’t know what the hell it was, he tried his best to remember the complicated words but they didn’t stick. He was just happy that Sarah could be healthy.

3rd August 1989

Bullshit. What a load of bullshit.

Do something you love and you’ll never work a day in your life? He wanted to backhand whoever said that.

“I got you baby, Daddy’s got you,” he said, rubbing her back as she cried into his chest. “Here’s your bottle. Just a few seconds and you’ll have your milk, okay?”

Tommy looked at him like he was a space alien. Yeah it was fucking weird, alright. He was in his shorts in the kitchen, wearing a smelly t-shirt and talking to his baby who didn’t know how to reply. But what did Tommy know? He didn’t have to be the one with no human company other than a little baby who didn’t know shit about shit.

He loved Sarah. He never knew what love was until Sarah. He thought he loved his parents, he might love Tommy just a little even though he was fucking annoying and got into trouble all the time. He fell in love a few times before Sarah’s mom and he was in love with Sarah’s mom. But maybe he didn’t love them. He didn’t love any of them. They should either invent a new word for whatever he felt for Sarah or a new, less stronger word for what he felt for every other person.

He really truly loved her. But that still didn’t make him feel like he wasn’t working. This was the most work he had ever done in his life. Even the sleepless week he spent building that shop, fuelled by energy drinks and coffee to afford baby clothes and medicines when his then wife was 8 months pregnant didn’t come close.

Sarah woke up crying all the goddamn time.

He knew babies always cried. They couldn’t talk or write or do anything else to communicate. So they cried. But it always felt like a personal failure when she did. Like he was the bad dad everyone expected a 22 year old single father to be.

“She always do that?” Tommy asked when Sarah finally quietened down as she sucked on the bottle he held to her mouth.

“Pretty much. She can’t talk or nothin’, so…”

Tommy nodded and then yawned. God, this boy. Joel had a lot to worry about now and everything he worried about involved Sarah. But he couldn’t not worry about his baby brother. Before he was a father, he was Tommy’s big brother and he will never stop worrying about him. He always got himself into trouble trying to do something good, something noble. The latest one was talkin’ ‘bout enlisting in the fuckin’ army.

He seemed to really really want to be in the army, but that didn’t say much. Tommy really really wanted to do fucking everything. While Joel was the brother with no strong ambitions other than Sarah, Tommy was the brother with too many ambitions. He fought off kids bigger than him if they bullied his classmates, spoke up against teachers who said somethin’ racist, punched a grown man for looking at his female friend wrong. And it was always on Joel to rescue him.

He would run off to a bunch of wars to protect his stupid little brother again. But for the first time he didn’t want to. He had a purpose now. His baby brother needed saving all the time, but his baby needed him for everything.

Tommy would have to handle himself. No big brother to shield him from bullets.

“Don’t fuck up, alright? Ma don’t need that now. I’m already fuckin’ up and she don’t need you to fuck up too.”

“You’re not fuckin’ up, Joel. Ma loves Sarah,” Tommy says, his voice soft as he gently taps Sarah’s cheek with his finger. She looks up at her Uncle Tommy and he swears she’s a little annoyed at him for disturbing her third dinner time. There was no way he was imagining that. He didn’t know if babies were smart enough to be annoyed, but Sarah was. She was a smart one. Tommy had to see that too.

“Yeah yeah, sorry,” Tommy laughed as he apologized to her. He could see it, Tommy also loved Sarah. He was an Uncle and shit. His baby brother, an Uncle. Wild.

Of course Ma loved Sarah. Everyone loved Sarah. He didn’t think it was possible for anyone to look at his baby girl and not fall in love immediately.

“I’m serious, Tommy. Don’t fu—” Fuck! No swearing. Ma warned that if he kept swearing around the baby, her first word might be fuck or shit or goddamn it. “Don’t mess up, okay?” He quickly corrected himself.

“Ma loves Sarah, but that don’t make me any less of a failure. I’m a twenty one year old divorced single father with no chances to go to college and no prospects other than construction. You gotta be better than that.”

He nodded, looking stern and a little too grown up for his age. He was too grown up to be an uncle, too grown to be shipped off God knows where to shoot at other kids but it was what it was. “Yeah…”

After a couple minutes of silence, Tommy spoke up again. “At least she won’t bug me for grandkids, right? You already gave her one.”

“Yeah, the perfect one. Gonna be difficult for your future kid to meet Ma’s high expectations.” He said, smirking. He was never competitive. Never did anything just to be better than someone else at it. The age gap between him and Tommy made him more of of protective older brother than a competitive one. But he was pitting Tommy’s non-existent kid against his baby and it didn’t even feel wrong.

“Fuck you, dude,” he laughed.

“No swearing ‘round her. Don’t want her first word to be that.”

Tommy burst out laughing. “It’ll be funny, though. Just imagine that in a little baby voice.”

He chuckled and conceded, “Yeah, it’ll be funny. But I’m serious. No swearing.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

25th December 1989

“Look at that! Ain’t it pretty?” He cooed, exaggerating the beauty of the scene in front of him. Her eyes were brighter than any Christmas light on the tree in the living room. They were brighter than the sun and the moon and all the stars in the night sky he pointed out to her.

She was wrapped up in several layers of clothes. For a baby, she had too many clothes and it was a pain in the ass to wash and fold. But she looked so adorable in all those layers. It was like she was a soft, formless ball.

He laughed as she moved her arms around and bounced on the couch. She was propped up by two pillows and he put a couple more on the floor just in case. He wouldn’t let her fall, but just in case. She pointed at the bauble he plucked off the Christmas tree, her baby bird-like mouth forming into a little O shape. She laughed and reached her arms out for it. He let her touch it. How could he not when she looked at it like it was the most wonderful thing in the universe.

She looked at everything like it was the most wonderful thing in the world.

He picked her up from her fortress of pillows and held her on his waist, carrying her closer to the tree. Carefully, he placed her higher on top of him, her legs on his shoulders and her hands gripping his hair for dear life. The mirror above the fireplace framed them like a photograph, their first Christmas together. One hand still on his hair, she reached out for a bauble, a present from an aunt for his shotgun wedding.

It should make him sad, but he found himself…happy. Sure, life would be easier if he had Pam to share the duties of parenthood. Sure it was shit to be a divorcee at the age of twenty two. But he had Sarah at the end of the marriage and that was worth everything.

While he was preoccupied with the meaning behind the ornament, his daughter was completely unconcerned with events that occurred before her birth. She inspected the ornament with a kind of gentleness he hadn’t seen in many babies— he remembered Tommy to be the kind to break things with his enthusiasm and cry over the destruction he’d wreaked. Sarah tapped on it gently with her hand and squealed with delight.

“It’s cool, huh?” He said, making conversation with her. She hummed in response and moved to an unusual ornament shaped like a butterfly, her eyes wide with curiosity and her fingers cautiously inspecting the antlers. Father and child stood in front of the Christmas tree all night long, inspecting every single ornament and making conversation in the language only they knew to speak.

If she loved the tree so much, he decided, he’d keep it in the living room in the fucking summer. Who said you couldn’t have a Christmas tree in June? He fucking loved being her dad.

18th January 1990

He fucking hated being a dad.

He would never let her know. God, he would never ever tell her that.

“Daddy’s got you, daddy’s got you. Everything is fine, baby girl.”

It was like she didn’t even hear him. She kept crying those heartbreaking, soul-crushing cries. He gave her the medicines that the doctor told him to buy. He did fucking everything but she still wouldn’t stop crying. He had to be doing something wrong. He told Ma that, but she said that was how babies were and he just had to take care of her, hold her close and wait for her temperature to go down.

But what until then?

“Ma! Ma, she won’t stop crying.”

“Did you give her the medicines?” His mother’s drowsy voice came through the phone. He shouldn’t be disturbing her after the day she had, but he couldn’t be bothered about her comfort. His baby was crying, goddamn it!

“Yeah, I did. Still won’t stop,” he said, his voice breaking and he bounced the baby, hoping that would soothe her.

“Did you check her temperature?”

“Yeah. Hundred and two.”

“It’s gone down then. She’s getting better.”

“Why’s she still cryin’ then?”

He was a grown man, a father, but god he felt like a fuckin’ kid again. He wanted his Ma. He wanted her to drive all the way to his place and tell him what to do to fix her, make her pain go away.

“That’s how it is, Joel. This is normal. I’ll be there in the morning when your old man can drive me, okay? She’ll get better, kid. Don’t worry too much.”

Ma was right, she did get better. But it was the worst night of his life and he would put her in a medically sealed safe room for the rest of her life just to never have to relive it.

She got sick again, of course. She was a kid and as he learned, kids were germ magnets. It was intolerable and it made him hate being a father. That made him feel guilty. It was stupid, he knew that. What could he even do? Punch germs in the face? Throw hands with the daycare mom who didn’t vaccinate her kid who ended up coughing on his baby girl?

He hated what being a father made him think and do. He felt unhinged, irrational. But it never felt wrong. And he never hated being her father. This was his purpose and he didn’t mind being a fuckin’ psycho who thought of fighting the baby who gave his baby a fever.

28th April 1991

“Can I have one, please?”

Joel brought the hammer down on the nail, looking up every now and then for glimpses of his daughter sitting on her uncle’s lap.

She looked at Tommy with her perfect angel eyes, hand messy and gripped around a disgusting soggy cookie she’d soaked with her saliva. She shook her head at Tommy before putting the cookie back in her mouth.

“Please? Uncle Tommy is hungry. And your dad won’t feed me.” He gave her his best puppy-dog eyes, but his baby girl didn’t budge. She hugged the packet of cookies close to her chest like Tommy was gonna snatch it from her and it made both of them laugh. He dropped his hammer on the floor and walked up to them.

He got on his knees next to Tommy’s chair and looked at her. “Please can I have one? Daddy’s hungry.”

She took her cookie out of her mouth and stretched her hand out to him. He leaned in, no hesitation and took the entire soggy piece in his mouth.

“Duuuude! Seriously? I bought those cookies and you’ll share it with your daddy but not with me? What a pair of scammers.”

Joel sent a smug smile his way before returning back to work. Babies were pretty selfish and Sarah was no exception, but he was an exception and that made him feel like the most special man in Texas.

“Miller,” a stern voice interrupted his family. He didn’t know whether it was directed towards him or towards Tommy, but the both of them apologized and left Sarah to her own devices before returning to work.

“Clients are such meanies, aren’t they?” He whispers to Sarah when the client is out of sight.

“Meanie!” She exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air and lifting the packet of cookies with her. He laughed. That was a new word. She was a smart one.

They work all night, both of them. Sarah sleeps in the baby seat he bought for his truck. The daycare moms suggested it and he was so glad he bought one. It was damn expensive but ‘twas helpful for when they’re both working and Ma couldn’t take Sarah.

16th October 1992

Kids asked a lot of questions. Sarah did too.

Why is the sky blue? Why are some trees tall but other trees short? Why are soap suds all white no matter the color of the soap? What is a library? Why does Grandma have grey hair? Why does Uncle Tommy have long hair? What is a housing loan? What is concrete? Why is concrete gray? Why won’t you let me touch concrete?

He didn’t have a problem with the non-stop questions like other parents did. It was better for her to channel her curiosity into questions than get into trouble trying to find answers herself. His problem was that he wasn’t smart enough to answer ‘em.

He eventually did. Or hoped that she’d forget that he said he’ll ask someone and get back to her with the answer. But this wasn’t something he could ask someone else. It wasn’t something he could hope she’d forget. If she forgot now, she’d ask again later at some point in her life.

“What’s my mommy’s name?”

“Her name was Pamela.”

Was, he said. Like she was fucking dead. It had been years since he’d said that name. What a strange turn life took. Once upon a time, his whole world revolved around Pam and now he’d half forgotten what she looked like.

“Where is she?”

Last he heard, somewhere in New York. She became a lawyer. Good for her.

“I don’t know, baby,” he lied. What was the point of telling her where her mother was? She didn’t even know where New York was. She hadn’t even thought to ask about her mother in all these years. Well, she couldn’t even speak for a good portion of it but still…

“All the other kids have a mommy. Why don’t I have one?” Was he not enough? A lot of people reminded him that kids needed a mother more than they needed a father. That little girls needed a mother. That he wouldn’t know what the hell to do when she wanted cookies for the school bake sale or wanted a cute braid or got her period. He told all of them to go fuck themselves. Politely.

Her tiny hands held the stuffed animal he spent too much time and money on to win at the fair. Her innocent little eyes begged him for answers, reminding him where she got ‘em from. They looked like when Pam told him she was pregnant, scared and confused and begging him to do something, help somehow.

He might get a heart attack in his mid twenties.

“It’ll be harder to do anything. Parties, work, college, sleep. Everything will be harder.”

He didn’t know it would be like this. He knew the question would come up but he wasn’t prepared.

“I…”

She was patient. He picked her up from her chair and held her to his chest, wishing she’d go back to just babbling and looking cute.

“Most babies have two parents. A mommy and a daddy. Do you know why?”

She shook her head and kept her attention on his every word.

“Because they’re all so naughty.”

That got a laugh out of her. An easy smile found itself on his lips. It was hard to not smile when he saw her smile.

“Jason has a mommy and daddy,” he said, referring to the boy she had a few play dates with. “He gets in a lot of trouble so he needs to parents to take care of him. But you’re such a good kid, the best kid in the world and God knows that. So he just gave you one parent. Because Daddy is enough to take care of you.”

He was enough. He was enough to take care of her. He could pay for her daycare and clothes and health and everything. He read her bedtime stories and took her to work and kept her away from the tools.

He was enough.

“Is she taking care of another kid then? Is that why she’s not here?”

Jesus Christ, this girl.

“I don’t know, baby.”

“Oh. Can we go to the park?”

And just like that, she was over it. Thank fucking God.

He held her curls and gave her a kiss on her head. She was so special, she was so perfect. She deserved everything, deserved the whole universe, deserved a mom. He would spend his whole life and more giving her whatever she needed.

1st September 1993

“Here’s some snacks for you. I’ll leave it in your bag. Don’t forget to have it, okay?”

She nodded, munching on her cereal as he packed her backpack for her first day of school. He was nervous, but she looked completely fine. So did Tommy on his first day of school, but he ended up throwing a tantrum at the school gates and refused to let go of their parents. Joel had to promise him a full bar of candy to get him to finally walk into school.

Just so it was not too jarring for her, he made it a point to drive past her school every now and then. As they passed by, he explained to her that she would be going there everyday very soon and make a lot of tiny friends.

Construction work meant that schedules were all over the place. Sarah, having had no independent life of her own so far, was forced to stick to his messy days, waking up and sleeping at different times. Joel changed that to prepare her for waking up early to go to school.

With her bag packed with her pencil case, water bottle, snacks, color pencils and the books and notebook her school asked her to bring, it was time to move on to the next task.

“Daddy, I want the purple bows today. The new ones Nana bought.”

“I know, baby girl. I got them here already,” he said, pulling out the bright purple hair accessories from his pocket where he’d also shoved her hair brush, handkerchief and socks. He pulled her hair together in two pigtails, proud of himself for how far he’d come in doing her hair from a confused man asking his very few female friends for help to a natural dad who did this every morning.

He clipped a bow on each side, the little purple things sitting at the base of her soft rounded hair style. She climbed up the table without notice and checked herself out on the mirror nearby, grinning as she touched her hair.

“Thank you, daddy.”

“Aww, you’re welcome baby girl,” he cooed, pulling her close and placing kisses on her cheeks and forehead. He couldn’t believe she was ready for school already. It felt like she was born just yesterday. Each day was long and difficult, but together they’d all passed by in the blink of an eye. He didn’t know if she was prepared for such a big step, to be in school everyday for a couple hours without him.

“Tickles,” she giggled as his mustache scratched her cheeks. He kissed her again, making her fill the living room once again with her squeals and laughter.

“I want the orange shoes today,” she said, placing her foot on his chest.

“Sure? You picked the black socks with the green aliens. Shouldn’t you wear black shoes?”

“You don’t know fashion, daddy. You wear only boring tops without cartoon characters. And you don’t even have Barbie clothes.”

“Yeah, yeah. Orange shoes it is then,” he said, slipping the shoes she demanded on her feet. At least they were Velcro and she could remove them and put them back on easily without help.

Soon, Tommy had arrived at their door and like the menace he was, brought some candies.

“Tommy,” he spoke in a stern tone.

“Come on, Joel! It’s a big day. Our baby girl is all grown up and going to school!”

“I’m a big girl!” She exclaimed, pumping her little fists in the air like she’d won a medal.

“Yeah, very big,” Tommy laughed, putting the candies in her school backpack. “Now, be nice and share some candy with your classmates. That’s the quickest way to make friends.”

She listened to his advice intently and Joel wondered if she’d take a pen and notepad out to take his advice down if only she knew how to string alphabets together to make words.

While he usually sat in the front and let Sarah sit in the back of the truck, he chose to sit in the back this time, offering her the comfort and confidence she needed to take this big leap.

“…be a good girl and listen to your teacher. And don’t use any rude words, okay? Stuff you hear at daddy’s work, it’s only for grown ups. You understand?”

She nodded, beady eyes focused on the glittery designs of her backpack rather than his words. As much as he tried to speak properly around her, he couldn’t stop her from learning the crass words spoken by the people he worked with at the construction sites. And because daycare was expensive and he didn’t feel comfortable leaving her with strangers for such a big part of the day, she had to be at his workplaces, heart no those words.

“Don’t be scared. It’s just school and it’ll be fun. You’ll get to read new stories and make new friends. It can be scary in the beginning but it will be so much fun,” he continued on, caressing her back as he held her close.

“What do you do if you’re scared or if you want daddy?”

“I’ll tell my teacher you’re waiting outside and I want to go to you,” she repeated the words he’d been drilling into her head for months. He had taken the entire week off work to wait for Sarah outside school. Just in case she really needed him before the end of the school day. God forbid there be an injury or something.

“You’ve seen your classroom before, remember? With the colorful stickers on the walls?” She nodded, walking next to him as she looked around at the other kids and parents on the campus for their first day. He averted her eyes from the crying kids, afraid that seeing them might make her cry too.

Joel dreaded the waterworks, dreaded how her sparkling eyes would brim with tears and her little lips would pout before fat tears rolled down her cheeks. She was too precious for that and her tears always made him want to tear up anything and anyone who caused it. It didn’t matter that she also cried for the silliest reasons and cried when she threw tantrums. They never stopped having that heartstrings-pulling effect they had when she came crying and screaming into the world. Those cries that convinced him that he shouldn’t give her up, that he couldn’t trust anyone else on the planet to comfort her the way he could.

When they reached her classroom and met Mrs. Moore, he handed her backpack over to her. Kneeling in front of her, he gave her a few kisses on her cheeks. “Be good, okay? Daddy’s right outside and I’ll pick you up when school is over. Yeah?”

“Okay, daddy!” She said cheerfully. He turned his cheek to her for a kiss, but she didn’t notice, walking off in the other direction with her backpack. She dipped her bag on the table before introducing herself to another kid with her standard script for meeting others— her name, his name, her favorite cartoon characters and a handshake while she said it was nice to meet them.

“Dang, she couldn’t wait to ditch ya,” remarked Tommy as he watched Sarah socialize and show the kids the cartoon characters on her backpack.

Joel’s vision clouded with tears as he sat on his knees in the middle of the classroom. His lips trembled and his chest clenched at being left just like that by her. She never left him. Even when she was with her grandparents, she came running to their porch when she heard him and Tommy pull up in the drive.

Tommy dragged him away from the classroom when it was time for parents to leave. While he left, Joel’s heart stayed right there in the classroom.

“Goddamn,” he muttered as he wiped his tears off with the sleeves of his shirt. To think he was worried about her crying… Here he was, crying like a child while his actual child faced her first day of school with a big smile on her face.

“Can’t believe she’s in school already,” Tommy said and he nodded, not confident that he could speak without sobbing.

How was he supposed to do this everyday? Just leave her in a building with complete strangers and be confident that when he went back, she would be there, safe and happy. Other kids could bully her, her teacher might be rude to her, she might be hungry even after eating the snacks he packed her. How was he supposed to know how she was doing in all these hours she’d spend in a place with none of the friends and family she knew?

It was like taking your heart out your chest, putting a backpack on it and sending it away to fend for itself while praying that nothing bad would happen to it.

30th November 1994

Joel Miller would beat up anyone who made his baby girl cry. He didn’t care who it was. This time though, he had no one to blame but himself. She wouldn’t let him near her. She was crying, but she was also incredibly angry. Where did she even get anger from? He couldn’t believe that such a tiny little girl could have so much anger in her.

“I’m leaving the house and I’m never ever coming back!” She squeaked into the phone between sobs.

He was disappointed in himself. She was being especially difficult, yes. He had to drop her off at daycare and run to work, but she wouldn’t stop running around in the backyard in her pajamas. He’d had enough and yelled.

So here she was with her pink backpack full of her things that she packed herself— mismatched clothes, hairbrush, hair wrap, hair tie, teddy bear. She didn’t pack any underwear. She was stood on the couch to reach the landline phone, holding the receiver to her ear and asking, no demanding, that Uncle Tommy pick her up.

“Who made my baby girl cry? I’m gonna kick their butts,” Tommy declares as he walks in, popsicle in hand. He was gonna kick Tommy’s ass. She wasn’t supposed to have that shit. It was unhealthy. But apparently it wasn’t up to him anymore. It was Sarah and her Uncle Tommy’s world and he was just living in it.

“I’ll get him, okay baby?” He reassured her gently and Sarah nods before hugging Tommy.

Fucking drama queens, the both of them.

“Go wait in the truck and have this popsicle, okay? I’ll beat your dad up.”

She grinned— what the fuck. She grinned, took the stupid popsicle and ran off to the truck which neither of them asked to borrow. Fucking thieves.

Tommy burst out laughing as soon as she left.

“If you wanna be cool Uncle Tommy beatin’ her dad up, the least you can do it babysit her until she stops hatin’ me.”

“She doesn’t hate you!”

“You said you were going to beat me up and she fuckin smiled like you promised her a pony. Take her for the weekend,” he said, handing him the bag that he packed for her. And this one had her underwear, matching set of clothes, her favorite blanket and the story book she was currently reading.

He loved her but goddamn it, he needed a break. The teenage years were going to be hell.

26 September 1996

His hands are cover in glitter. And they’re also sticky for some reason. Something happened here. He didn’t know what, but he would find out. There’s a pair of scissors on the floor. He didn’t put them there and the only other person in the house was told very clearly to not touch them.

Rules were more like suggestions in this household.

“Sarah!” He calls out, walking around the house looking for her. Where the hell was this kid on a school day? It usually took waking her up a million times, took begging to get her to make her bed and some threats to get her outside her bedroom.

He almost yelped when a something, roughly the weight of one Sarah Miller, landed on his back and began giggling.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY DADDY!!!!” She screamed into his ear. His ears rang from the sound and his heart beat faster, but his heart also grew warmer.

He pulled her to his front and she wasted no time giving him wet kisses on his cheeks. “Thank you, baby girl,” he said, laughing from her enthusiasm. She had never remembered his birthday before, not that he expected her to. She barely remembered her own and made him count down to it from 3 months before the day. So it was a surprise that she remembered.

“I made you a gift,” she said, showing off the gaps between her teeth as she smiled.

“Whaaaat? A gift? For me?”

She nodded and wriggled out of his grip before running off. Her footsteps grew distant and then closer until she emerged with what he could only hope used to be paper. It was a sparkling red sheet. Under all the glitter, there had to be some paper left. There was paper and on it were the words ‘Happy birthday daddy’ written colorfully in crayons. He opened the card to find a drawing of him— beard, power tools, truck and all. It was labeled ‘daddy’.

On the right was a message from her, in her writing that started big and became smaller with each alphabet.

‘Happy Birthday Daddy. I love you.’

“Do you like it?” She asked, wide eyes looking at him expectantly.

“I love it! It’s perfect, baby,” he praised, picking her up off the ground and smothering her with kisses. She was the sweetest, most precious thing in the world. His Ma gave him a new shirt and Tommy bought him a bottle of good whiskey, but they paled in comparison to the card that he tucked away safely in the file with all their important documents, glitter be damned. The card collection grew over the years.

2nd February 1997

“You’ll like her, I promise!”

“Where have I heard that before?” Joel snorted, getting back under the truck to look for whatever the hell had gone wrong underneath for it to not start. They did take a bus to the construction site that morning, but they couldn’t do that again. The buses were unreliable and the walk to the bus stop took up half an hour. Sarah was already annoyed at him for not coming home on time. Last thing he wanted was to leave home earlier and come back later.

“Okay, that was one time! And she was a friend of a friend of a friend. I’ve met Judy and she’s definitely your type.”

“Sure,” he grunted, extending his hand out to get the tool he needed from Tommy.

“Curly hair, kind of tall. She’s clever. A math teacher, actually. Out of your league in that department so if you could pull her, it would be a miracle.”

“You settin’ me up for failure then.”

“Listen, she’s new to the city and she’s open to meeting people. It’s not gone be a date, Joel. Just drinks with her, a couple of her friends, my roommate and his sisters. You need a break.”

He hated to admit it even to himself, but Tommy was right. Not about dating, but about needing a break. He had been working a lot more recently. The contracting business was still in its infancy and needed a lot of his time and attention to just stay afloat. He didn’t have enough capital to invest in more monpower, so he had to take every call and make every decision and do every task he didn’t have enough guys for.

“I’ll think about it,” he said, wiping his face with the greasy cloth, getting more grease on himself than off.

“I’ll ask Ma to take Sarah. You know she’s dying to see that kid,” Tommy offered. He knew that it was meant to get him to feel better, less guilty about getting rid of Sarah for the night to get drunk. But it only made him feel worse about shirking his responsibilities to go get drunk and try to sleep with someone. The last time he did that, he became a father.

But he does it anyway because he told Tommy he would. He goes on a couple of dates with the girl and it feels nice to be around someone who is interested in him for himself, not for what he did for them or because they were stuck with him.

It doesn’t last long. Sarah and work always take priority over everything else in his life and she understandably doesn’t like being his last priority. He never tries again.

16th June 1998

“Sarah!” He called for the fourth time, again with no response. He plated the food for her, grabbed his own plate and walked upstairs to her room.

“Been calling out your name for ten minutes now, baby girl.”

She looked up at him, a weary smile on her lips. “Sorry. I was just finishing up my assignment. Didn’t hear you.”

He put the plate on the table in front of her and ruffled her hair, making her pout. “‘S nice to focus on school, but you need to keep your ears alert,” he said, sitting back down on her bed with his plate.

One glance at her books told him she was doing her math homework. Geometry, to be precise. At least it was something he knew this time. Last week, she was writing her social science essay and went on about the different parts of the United Nations or some shit. He only remembered a bunch of abbreviations and not what they stood for. She could make something up like UNCPS, call it United Nations Child Protective Services and he’d believe it. Wait, was that what UNICEF was?

Math was the only thing she learned in school that he still understood, that made him feel like a smart dad capable of helping his kid out with her homework. Not that she needed any help. She’d taken after Pam in the brains department. Thank god.

Nevertheless he checked her answers. He didn’t want to be completely useless.

She’d done well. There were one or two mistakes she’d made, repetitions of the kinds of mistakes she’d made before in long division. Just careless ones that she corrected easily when he pointed them out to her. Nothing he had to teach her.

“Oh, before I forget…” she said, pulling a plastic file out of her purple backpack. “I need your signature on this thing. It’s the permission slip for a talk from a retired army officer.”

He rifled through the pens in her pen stand, taking too long to find one that wasn’t purple, glittery, or purple and glittery. “Military? Why they teachin’ you that?” He asked, wary about his kid learning anything about wars. It’d gotten Tommy a little too excited and before they knew it, he was off getting shot at somewhere in the gulf. The dangers of that were lower with a daughter than with a son, but he was still wary. Gender equality better not creep its way into jobs that could get his kid killed.

“Yeah, you ain’t going to this thing. Take the day off.”

“No way, we might have a social science pop up quiz on Wednesday and I’m not going to miss it.”

“Aren’t pop up quizzes supposed to…I don’t know, pop up? Like surprise,” he said, earning an eye-roll from her. Wasn’t even a teenager yet and she was rollin’ her lil eyes at her dad. He’d lucked out in the baby lottery, got himself a smart, mostly well-behaved one. But it still confused a man to have the little thing that used to depend on you for everything from food to wiping her butt now rolling her eyes at you.

“Yeah, yeah. I can’t just skip classes. I’m sure this,” she said, waving the piece of paper at him. “—is just formality. And it’s just going to be some boring talk from some old guy. If you don’t sign it, they’ll still make me go and then my principal will call you up to my office and ask you why you didn’t sign the slip. Merel’s older brother didn’t get his signed and the principal asked his dad if he was a communist.”

“The worst that could happen is this old man calling me a communist? You’ll have to do better than that.”

“Uncle Tommy said that communists are evil,” she said, her eyes widening for effect.

“Your uncle also says that two plus two is five and that ice cream is good for your health.”

“Because it’s milk and milk has calcium!”

“Sure it is. And it’s a shitload of sugar.”

“But if I’m having sugar, isn’t it better to have it with milk? That way I’m also having something healthy,” she asked, showing off her missing teeth as she grinned.

“Or you can just drink milk.”

“Milk tastes like sh— garbage,” she quickly corrected herself. His little girl knew bad words. That shouldn’t be as much of a surprise as it was considering how much he and Tommy cursed around her. But it was…disturbing. It was evidence she was growing up, using these words around her little friends and hiding that from him. He used to know her better, be able to read her from the smallest facial expressions. He used to be able to anticipate her needs, predict her behavior, but it was getting harder nowadays.

“And you know what garbage tastes like because…?”

“I grew up eating stuff you cook, that’s how.”

“Walked right into that one.”

“Yeah you did,” she said, sticking her tongue out at him. He chuckled at her silly behavior, pinching her nose between his thumb and index finger before letting go. Maybe she wasn’t growing up after all.

“Whatever garbage I fed ya, it’s kept you strong enough to talk crap ‘bout it.”

He thought back on the days of fighting out how to cook. Before Sarah, he’d been surviving on takeout. Having to clothe and feed an entirely new human being left little money in his wallet to spend on food. So he learned to cook. For a little thing, she’d made big changes in his life— made him a father and a man. He remembered waking up at odd hours when she so much as stirred in her crib that he kept beside his bed. He remembered how his heart would ache with her little whines that turned into cries of hunger. How he cursed her mother who was meant to be feeding her as he fixed her a bottle—a cheap substitute for her mother’s milk.

Nine years.

Goddamn.

It was hard to believe it’d been that long since she entered his world and changed everything about it. Even when the evidence sat right before him, doing her homework and doodling on her desk. Her hand, while bigger, still held her pencil the same way it did when he taught her to write. Now it wrote faster, wrote long words beyond his understanding in pretty cursive handwriting.

He waited patiently as she ate the boxed mac ‘n cheese, ashamed that he couldn’t feed her anything healthier. It’d been a long day and he didn’t have the time or energy to make something better. But she ate it up happily, not complaining even once. It induced both guilt and satisfaction, the former from the lack of nutrients in the food and the latter because he still made his little girl happy.

He covered his mouth as a yawn took over, making her laugh. “You yawn so funny.”

“I do?” He asked before faking a yawn, making silly sounds as he did. She giggled and yawned back, producing her own silly sounds. It had quickly turned into a competition, leaving father and child making the silliest sounds until the latter crumpled on him, breathless from her laughter.

“Alright. Time to sleep, okay? And remember, Grandpa is picking you up from school tomorrow. So don’t walk home by yourself.”

“Alright dad,” she said, settling under her purple blanket. He bent down and pressed a kiss to her forehead before turning her bedside lamp off.

Dad.

Not daddy, but dad. The little girl was adamant on growing up. He left her room, remembering that she hadn’t asked for a bedtime story in months. She read on her own, borrowed piles of books from the library and narrated the stories to him and Tommy and anyone who would listen.

She didn’t need him for that anymore. While it was a comfort in one way, to lessen the duties of parenthood, it clawed at his chest to know that one day she wouldn’t need him at all. He’d had her for nine years and in another nine, she would be off to university, leaving him alone in this house with nothing to do for the first time since she became his life.

23rd December 1999

“Ma…” Tommy called out, his voice breaking as he turned to him, tears already streaming down his cheeks. Joel stepped forward and threw an arm around his little brother.

First dad and now… His chest felt heavy and his throat prickled from all the sobs he held back. He needed to be strong. There was one more funeral to arrange, a little brother to comfort…god, Tommy had seen too many deaths in his lifetime already. This wasn’t going to be easy for him.

And Sarah. She had never seen death before. Loss, yes. Her mother, her best friend who left town, the goldfish that died because he forgot to feed it. But death in the family, that was new.

He let go of Tommy and gave him an awkward pat on the back. “I’m going to call the funeral home.”

The call had been made, their mother was taken away from their family home to join her father and he drove the two of them back to his place. It wouldn’t be wise to stay there, with all the memories of growing up with their parents, especially with the holiday decorations cheering up the place in the most offensive manner.

They were supposed to celebrate together, just the five of them. But god had other plans it seemed. He poured Tommy another drink and leaned back on the couch, mind reeling with all the paperwork he had to take care of and who would take care of Sarah when he was away handling it. Not Tommy, not in his state. He sipped on his beer, watching Tommy as he followed suit.

It had been decades ago, but he remembered quite well what Ma had said after Tommy ran off to complain to her about Joel yelling at him for scribbling on his homework.

“When your dad and I are gone, Joel, you’ll be the one to take care of him. He’s little and he will make silly mistakes. But you oughta forgive him, take care of him.”

Somehow, Tommy looked just as pathetic as he did that day. Innocent, vulnerable and needing comfort. He had seen so much, so much more than what Joel could imagine in his worst nightmares. But Joel would still see him as his little brother.

“Alright, Tommy. You’ve had enough,” he said, prying the bottle of beer from his grip and taking it to the garbage. Tommy didn’t resist, only crumpled down on the couch as he stared at the ground.

“Dad?” Said a low voice, heavy with sleep. He looked to the other side to find her, rubbing at her eyes as she walked further into the living room. He’d just tucked her into bed after she spent almost an hour badgering him about what Christmas presents Santa would bring her that years as he worried himself sick about how he’d tell her that grandpa was dead. Just the thought of her festive excitement breaking to make way for grief… That was when Tommy called him, sobbing and sputtering out the words.

He’d gone to cook something for Ma and found her unmoving on her bed.

“Hey baby girl…” he said, his voice soft as he walked to her. “Did we wake you up?”

She whined and hugged him, placing her weight on him as she let him lead her to the couch. Tommy, realizing his niece was there, wiped his eyes with the cuffs of his shirt and plastered a smile on his face. “Hey Butterfly…” he addressed her in his trembling voice.

“What happened?”

Joel didn’t know how he did it. But he did it. The girl’s eyes were wide as she listened to him, her little hands wrapped around his arms like she was afraid to let go.

“We’ll never see grandma and grandpa again?”

He shook his head, his heart breaking for her. He never had the misfortune of experiencing his own grandparents’ deaths. Half of them were gone before his parents had him and the other half passed when he was too little to remember them.

“There will be a funeral for them. We’ll all get together as a family and say goodbye at Church.”

Her lips curved down and tears brimmed in her eyes, the realization of the true nature of death hitting her. With a wail, she wrapped her arms around him, her bony knees digging into his thighs. “I don’t want them to go,” she cried, her tiny fist punching his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and kissing the top of her head.

“I know, baby… I know.” He whispered into her ear, cradling and rocking her in his arms the way he did when she cried as a newborn. “It’s going to be scary because we have always had grandma and grandpa. But we’ll get through it, okay? Together. Daddy’s here. I’ll get us through it.”

“I don’t want them to die.”

“I know, I know,” he breathed and for the first time since he lost the first two people he ever loved, the sorrow caught up to him. Her innocent words, how she thought to speak them to him- as though she believed he could prevent her dead grandparents from dying. In her innocence, he finds his own. For the first time, he allows himself to be more than the responsible older brother who made funeral arrangements and took care of his grieving little brother. His love for his parents, his remaining childlike belief that they would be permanent in his life— They dug their claws into his chest and ripped his heart right out, piercing it, making it bleed.

“Does everyone die?” She asked meekly, fear and curiosity battling each other and plunging them both into the remains of her innocence.

“Yeah. Eventually, everyone dies.”

“Even you?” She asked, pulling back, sweet brown eyes staring back at him. While he thought she had her mother’s eyes, everyone else said their expressions were his. His eyes that he got from his father. For the first time, he saw what they all said. Just like dad’s eyes.

“You don’t worry about that now, baby girl,” he said, caressing her hair. “I’ll be here for a long time. You’ll be a big girl by then. Have a job ‘n all.”

“I don’t want you to die.”

“Oh, darlin’…” He pulled her to his chest and patted her back, setting a rhythm that he used when her back was the size of his hand and she needed the rhythm to fall asleep on his chest. She relaxed under his touch, the rhythm still having an effect. “It’ll be fine. Everything will be okay,” he lied, a habit that’s come easy to him with fatherhood. Lying was second nature when it came to comforting her, lulling her into a false sense of security about life.

17th May 2000

He pulled up the hem of his T-shirt and wiped his sweat, hoping to look better for Sarah’s game. He was late. By over an hour. Sarah would already be angry at him and seeing his face in the stands so fucking late would only add insult to injury. But he had to try. After all the games he missed, he had to keep his promise to be there for the final match.

He spotted Sarah instantly as he walked close to the field. But she wasn’t playing like he hoped. She was taking a towel from her friend Candace, her lips weighed down by a frown. Candace’s mother offered her a bottle of water and she accepted it politely before walking away and settling down on the stands. Alone. The back of her soccer jersey is stained with sweat and his guilty mind reads the big bold Miller on it as an accusation. Where were you, Miller? Other kids were with their families and his sat alone.

“Baby girl…”

She looked up at him but quickly dropped her eyes back down to her lap, her fingernails scratching at the label of the plastic water bottle. From the frown on her face, he guessed that her team didn’t win. Such a shame since she worked so hard practicing while also keeping her grades up.

“It’s okay you didn’t win,” he began gently, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. She tsked and shrugged his hand off her shoulder. Oh she was angry. “You came this far. Finals and all. Second place is still good, you know?”

Silence.

Maybe it would help to regale her with one of his own failures, show her she was doing much better than her old man, maybe even make her laugh. “I was always on reserve and hoping nobody gets injured so I didn’t have to play,” he said, his laugh coming out awkwardly as her frown deepened. Humor wasn’t it, apparently.

“Sarah!” An older woman called out from across the pitch and she looked up at her. From her outfit- tracksuit, whistle at the end of a lanyard around her neck, he assumed she was a soccer coach. “It’s time for the pictures.”

She put her water bottle down on the seat next to her and walked in the woman’s direction. It definitely hurt, her walking away from him without hesitation in the direction of someone who wasn’t family. Like a visible representation of her rejecting him for someone she saw more than him these days.

He let out a defeated sigh and walked up to the pitch and found the huddle of backpacks. Finding her purple one with the butterflies wasn’t hard. He picked it up and threw it over his shoulder and watched as she stood with the kids on her team for the picture. The coach brought a trophy over, big shiny one with ribbons tied to it. Her little friends cheered as the trophy was handed to the girl in the middle, the captain presumably and they all put their hands on it, smiling wide as their picture was taken. His little girl finally managed a smile too, encouraged by Chantal grabbing her shoulder and shaking her.

“She played well, huh?”

He looked to his side to find the owner of the voice, a man older than he was, wearing a red tee, the color of the opposing team.

“Tony,” he said, introducing himself. “I’m your Sarah’s math teacher. And the dad of the losing team’s captain.”

Joel squinted, confused. Sarah’s team didn’t lose? On the other side of the pitch, the red team stood together for a picture, looking a little less happy and holding a trophy much smaller than Sarah’s team.

“Joel,” he said, introducing himself. “Sorry for…uh-” he struggled to find a way to say something nice about his daughter’s performance. But he wasn’t at the game and didn’t know who the man’s kid was. “They played well, your kid’s team.”

“Oh, you’re being kind. Don’t tell my girl I said this, but they played like shit,” Tony said and he laughed awkwardly. Was he supposed to agree or disagree? Which would be more polite?

Joel instead changed the topic to school. “Is it hard? Teaching and having your kid in the same school?” He asked like a fucking idiot. Where did that come from? Why would that even be hard? He would kill to work at the school, see his kid more instead of working mad hours far away from home while she ate at the Adlers’ and went to bed alone. But the job paid shit.

“Well, a little…” he answered, scratching his beard. As the man spoke, Joel’s attention was elsewhere, on the pitch with Sarah. Her team won. The games she'd been stressing over for so long had come to an end and she had won. But she still had that frown on her face. Realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

She looked sad because he wasn’t there. After he promised he would be.

“…and you’d think she would be much better at math with me teaching her at home and another math teacher teaching her in school, but she’s hopeless. Soccer is life for Dolly. Your Sarah is very good. I’m guessing that’s why I never see you at the parent-teacher meetings. Never nothin’ to ask your kids’ teachers about if they’re doing perfectly well in school, right?”

“Right,” he said, nodding as he felt the guilt eat away at his heart. She had been raving about this match for so long, was so excited when they made it to the finals and drilled the date into his head. But he still forgot. He would lie to her on the drive home, say he had so much work that he couldn’t get to the match on time. But he would know the truth- that he forgot about it until he heard a soccer match inside the house of the client whose deck he was redoing.

“Now, I know your girl is very busy with the debate club, soccer and art. I asked her to join mathletes but she said she was too busy. I think it would be good for her. On her CV and stuff when she applies for college. Plus she needs a challenge.”

He felt smaller in front of the teacher despite having a couple inches over him. Sarah was a smart kid. Took after her mother there. But he wasn’t. He didn’t know art or debate and Sarah had long ago gone beyond the math he knew, taking advanced classes he never took and getting grades he never had on his report card. And did Tony say the math thing would help her with college?

“Yeah, she does,” he agreed, not even knowing fully what he was agreeing over. “Umm… I’ll talk to her about it.”

He traded some words with her teacher, the two of them agreeing to meet at the next game before he left to find his daughter and console her over her team’s loss. In a while, he found Sarah walking to the parking, holding a gold medal and a certificate. He followed and opened the truck door for her and she climbed in wordlessly.

“Come on, you gon’ be like that the whole time?” He asked, a couple minutes into their ride.

“You forgot about the game, didn’t you?”

“What? No!” He lied. “I wanted to come, baby girl. I swear. Just took too long at work today because of the sub-contractor. He installed the wrong plumbing for the kitchen and wouldn’t admit to it, so—” he stopped abruptly, feeling bad about his string of lies. But he did nothing to correct it. What was he supposed to say? Apologise for being a shit dad who forgot?

“I didn’t forget, I swear,” he lied again. Lying was second nature to him now. It was easier to lie than to confess to your kid that you forgot about something that was important to her. Plus, it wasn’t going to be worth the fight. She was a teenager and on a goddamn debate team. She knew how to argue. Whose idea was it anyway to teach children how to argue better? No one from the south, he was sure. Had he argued with his mama, he would’ve gotten a belt to his ass.

“Fine,” she huffed, folding her arms over her chest.

“A’right,” he said, feeling a weight leave his shoulder. “How ‘bout we get some pizza and celebrate your win? We can watch a movie too.”

“Okay fine. But I get to pick.”

“Yeah yeah, we’ll watch Toy Story again,” he said, smiling as her grumpy face lit up for a moment before stretching thin into a neutral expression. He had watched that movie a million times because of her. Their CD had given out from scratches from the number of times they watched it and he had to buy her a new one.

“I didn’t say Toy Story,” she said defiantly. Right… She was growing up now, watching fewer movies from when she was younger to make herself look older and cooler around her friends. He remembered that stage with Tommy.

“Sure, baby girl,” he teased, driving in the direction of their favorite pizza place.

27th March 2001

“Don’t be scared, a’right?” He said, holding her face in his hands. She nodded, putting on a brave face even though she was afraid. “I’ll be right behind you. Won’t let those assholes do anything. Uncle Tommy is inside the store too. We’ll take care.”

She took his word and got out of the truck, following the path she usually took when she walked home from school. She came home crying the other day, talking about how she didn’t want to go to school anymore ‘cause a bunch of guys stood outside a store leering at her and talking shit.

He was ready to go to prison for murder immediately, but Tommy chose to be the smarter Miller for the first time in his life and hatched a plan. Nothing elaborate. Just intimidating the whichever boys dared to fuck with his kid.

He followed Sarah at a safe distance, close enough to protect her from danger while also making sure to maintain enough distance so as to not alert the guys into running away. A few minutes in and he spotted them. Not boys. Not misguided teenagers like he was expecting. Men. Grown men older than him. He caught how their eyes crawled over his kid, how she squirmed under the gaze and he immediately wants to slam the three of them into the fucking ground. Pull their eyes out and kick them to their fucking death.

She was twelve.

He stopped outside the store. A little bodega he frequented. Tommy seemed to have similar thoughts running through his head, his hands curled into fists at his sides as he burned holes into the men’s head. They communicated with just their eyes. We’ll wait for Sarah to get home.

Joel didn’t know how he managed to wait until she walked into their street. From a distance, he could see her opening their front door and letting herself in. She better have locked the door.

Intimidation would not work on these men. Not was it enough for their disgusting act. Joel’s stomach turned as his mind replayed the way they looked at her. No wonder she was afraid. His poor girl.

They took the men out back, hand on their back, words exchanged about needing to ask something. He didn’t remember how much punches and kicks he and Tommy landed, but it seemed enough. Sarah walked home peacefully again. But peace eluded Joel from then on. He was raising a girl. He could remember how his female friends in school had to keep themselves safe- keys in between their fingers, a trusted male walking them home when it got dark. He thought nothing of it then, even walked some of his friends home to keep them safe.

It was different experiencing it as a dad. Now men were part of the list of things he had to worry about- concussion from football, period cramps, eating too much chocolate, fucking terrorists taking out goddamn buildings— He cursed the part of him that once wanted his little girl to grow up faster so he didn’t have to change diapers anymore. He would take diapers over this any day.

4th March 2002

“Uh huh,” he hummed as the client hammered on about his good for nothing son who he caught smoking weed and sneaking out to some party. He would’ve whipped out the picture of Sarah in his wallet and rubbed it in the man’s face that his kid never got into trouble and was a straight A’s student. But part of being a contractor was not being a complete fucking asshole to his clients. So he shut up.

Plus he was in no mood to brag.

He returned home late. Again. It had become the topic of all his fights with Sarah. He could understand why she would be angry. But understanding didn’t put money in his pocket or food on their table. It most certainly did not go towards Sarah’s college funds. Animals were what took up her thoughts these days. She brought home a ton of books from the library, ranting off about the different animals and how she wanted to take care of them for a living.

This obsession had stayed longer than the last one. She he believed their neighbor’s dog was to blame. And the stray cat that followed her home to get some scraps of food.

He would’ve brushed it off as his sweet daughter being kind to every fucking thing all the time. Well, he did. Until she dropped the bomb.

Veterinary medicine.

Curious, he slipped into the library close to a store he was building and sat in front of the computer. The number had enough zeroes in it for him to need a doctor and since he couldn’t afford the human one, a veterinary doctor like his kid wanted to become. It wasn’t something he could afford. Not a pet to satiate her obsession with, not a doctor for himself and certainly not enough to make Sarah an animal doctor.

He had just finished paying off the house and now this… Couldn’t she have chosen a different job to do with animals? Or relegated puppies to hobby instead of career. But the puppies weren’t the problem. He was.

No matter what education she decided on, it would end up breaking his back. When at the library, he had gone over a few other degree costs. While not as expensive as medicine, they were still significant costs. There was a little bit of inheritance from his parents, he had started an account in her name and kept his share of the money in it. But it wouldn’t be enough for a college degree.

Sarah’s anger over him not coming home on time hurt. Missing her games and not cooking her the best meals made him realize the failure he was as a dad. But by god he wouldn’t fail to give her a good education. Had he had that, he would be able to give her a better life. And he would be damned if he didn’t try his hardest to give her the education to reach her dreams.

27th September 2003

Sarah Miller came into the world crying when the doctor handed her to him, small and covered in blood. He took her into his arms then, his hospital gown red with her blood and he held her to his chest. His voice trembled as he introduced himself to her.

“Oh, baby girl…” he’d said as he looked down in wonder at the person who would become his entire world. “It’s daddy,” he said as tears of joy streamed down his cheeks. There would be no one adopting her. He wouldn’t give her to anyone else. No one could care for her the way he did.

She left the world the same, crying and gasping for breaths. She was still light in his arms, too easy to carry and still so little. The blood her father gave returned to him, oozing out of her bullet wound and covering him in his failure. He was supposed to have cared for her much better than anyone else could have.

His mother had taken her from his arms then, telling him she knew better, excited to see her grandchild even though she’d thought until then that they would give her away to another family. His brother tried to take her from him now. He held her closer, a whimper akin to that of a wounded animal escaping his lips. The chaos reeling on around them and the sobs that wracked his body weren’t enough to convince him that his world had ended.

A pole marked her grave, dug hurriedly by her beloved uncle.

“We’ll be back, okay?” He reassured the girl’s father, his hands squeezing his shoulder. Stifling a sob, he removed a chain from around his neck, a pendant shining silver from the light of the moon that sat peacefully in the sky as though unaware of the chaos underneath her.

He wrapped his chain around the pole.

MILLER

THOMAS R

9913387701

B POS

CHRISTIAN

A lot would change in the next two decades. But the dogtag would stay on the pole above her. Marking the grave of a child well loved, a name she shared and the type of blood he could’ve donated to her to save her life. The little girl would rest, but the man who had to be dragged away from her grave never would. He would wander, much like the zombies themselves, trying to find his purpose.

#joel miller #joel and sarah #joel and tommy #tommy miller #uncle tommy #tlou #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #dad joel #pre outbreak!joel #pre outbreak!tommy #joel the last of us #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal #all that i've inflicted on the world

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