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generic-enthusiast · 3 months ago

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“Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid,” Ponyboy’s muttering as he steps in the door, “stupid stupid stupid stupid.” He goes to slam the door behind him, but notices Darry’s work boots lined up under his coat, so he closes it with a soft click.

“Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid—”

“Hey, Pony, how was school?” Darry asks, coming out of the kitchen. His voice has its constant, tired lilt to it. He’s had it for two years, and yet Ponyboy still can’t get used to it.

Ponyboy opens his mouth to respond but finds himself at a loss for words. Out of pure indignation, no doubt. He just throws the envelope on the table and grabs the back of a chair to lean on it. Darry takes a bite of his apple as he comes forward, eyeing the letter curiously.

“What’s this?”

Ponyboy looks up at Darry. “You know that writing contest Mrs Anderson was gonna sign me up for?” Darry nods slowly, looking down at the letter and back up at Pony again. “Got the prompt.”

Darry stares at him for a moment as if in expectation before asking, “What is it?”

Ponyboy doesn’t respond, he just grabs the ripped envelope and takes out the folded piece of paper, holding it out to Darry between two fingers. Darry dries his hand on his pants and takes it.

He fumbles with the piece of paper for a moment, trying to unfold it with just one hand, and his brow furrows as he reads through the prompt. “What’s wrong with it?”

Ponyboy sighs, forever uncomprehended by his environment, and snatches the paper back. He doesn’t really know what to do with it, though, so he throws it onto the table again — not quite as energetically this time — and goes to slump down on the couch.

“I’m fifteen. How’m I s’pposed to write about ‘being in love’?” He asks, saying the last couple words in a mocking tone.

“Hang on now, I ain’t seen nothin’ ‘bout being in love.”

Ponyboy squints up at him in a way that distinctly says ‘are you stupid?’ “Did ya even read the prompt?”

“Yeah. Says to write about love. Ain’t nothin’ ‘bout being in love. You can write about Pepsi if you wanna.”

Ponyboy looks up at him, then down again. A couple silent moments go by before he asks, “The drink or the brother?”

Darry makes a sound between a snort and a laugh. “I meant the drink, but I reckon they’ll like it more if ya write about your brother.”

“Huh.” Ponyboy looks away from Darry and starts staring into nothingness, deep in thought.

“What’s wrong?”

“I wanted to be annoyed and I’m not allowed to so now it’s sorta between annoyed and nothing and the feeling is annoying me.”

Darry hums, mildly amused.

“Is this like college essays where you just gotta compete for the saddest sob story? ‘Cause I think I win if it’s that.”

Darry looks down at him, confused. “Who told you that?”

Ponyboy blinks at him. “You did. When you applied for college. You said ‘I hope somethin’ terrible happens to you in the next six years and you’ll be a lucky son of a bitch if it does.’” He goes quiet for a moment. “Then Ma told you to watch your mouth around her.”

“Oh.” Darry blinks. “I don’t remember that.”

Two years ago, when police officers appeared on their doorstep to ask Darry to identify the bodies and the bathroom tiles were cold under his knees and the bile was burning his throat and Johnny’s hand was warm on his back, thumb rubbing back and forth, Ponyboy’s mind was blank. A couple minutes later, though, when he leaned his head on Johnny’s chest with a couple half-hearted coughs, the only thing he could think of was that at least he would have a great college essay.

Johnny didn’t really know what to do when he dissolved into hysterical laughter.

Ponyboy shrugs like it’s not a big deal. “I do.”

“Yeah.” Neither of them says anything for a couple moments. “I’ve never written for a contest or anything, so I don’t know what they want. Just writing good should be enough, prolly.”

“Yeah.”

The room falls into silence for a while.

“I better get started on dinner. Try and get your homework over with before Soda gets home, alright? I know you get distracted with him.”

“Okay.”

Darry goes into the kitchen and Ponyboy picks up his backpack and goes into his room. He has to finish some math exercises for tomorrow, and Darry will get mad if he asks him to look them over too late at night, but he gives himself a couple minutes to look over the prompt one last time.

Love is a central part of human existence, something near every writer touches in their work. From Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet to Lord Byron’s “She walks in beauty like the night” to Greek myths such as Sophocles’s Antigone. It’s been written and sung and painted about from every perspective — except yours.

The 1966 edition of American Young Artists’s yearly writing competition asks you to write a short story (no longer than 8,000 words) or poem (no longer than 50 lines) about what love means to you.

Please do not:

Submit an essay or straightforward answer. While undoubtedly interesting, the objective of this contest is to explore your creative prowess and ability to transmit messages and themes through subtext.

Submit more than one piece. You will be disqualified and none of your pieces will be considered.

Rewrite a story that has already been written. We are not interested in why you believe Orpheus turned back or how Romeo and Juliet would have lived in another world. The story or poem you submit must be entirely original, not based on someone else’s work.

There are a couple more points, but Ponyboy stops reading. He doesn’t know where to start.

He doesn’t even know if he’s felt love before. No one ever bothers to give you a straightforward answer to what it is, only hints here and there that you’re supposed to put together so you get the same definition as everyone else.

Tall tales of butterflies and blushing and stumbling over words. Of holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes and feeling connected. Of being willing to risk your life for someone (did he love the kids in that church?), of wanting the best for them (shouldn’t he want that for everyone?), and putting them before yourself.

Ponyboy groans again and buries his face in his pillow.

He takes the math homework out of his backpack and gets a pencil.

A minute later he gets up and opens the door, yelling on the way to the kitchen so Darry can hear him over the sound of whatever he’s cooking, “Darry! Is cosine the adjacent or opposite side?”

…

Ponyboy might have school friends, but none of them can hold a candle to Johnny.

They’re fine for grouping up for projects or sitting together at lunch, but he wouldn’t spend hours next to them in silence, reading or drawing or just thinking. He wouldn’t invite them home and sit down on his bedroom floor next to them, just enjoying each other’s presence. Letting them flip through his sketchbook would leave him anxiously looking over their shoulder and watching their face, trying to gauge their reactions.

Which means that now he spends an awful amount of time alone in his room. He doesn’t usually mind, but now the stupid prompt seems to be glaring at him, screaming that he should be working on it.

Mrs Anderson won’t ask him to have something written until at least a month from now, but it still torments him. He finds himself zoning out in the middle of a drawing, wondering about whether love can really be considered a feeling or if it’s actually something else. Answering some questions for science class is interrupted by three attempts at starting to write something about his parents, but all of them sound cheesy.

Finally, when Soda asks him if he’s okay because he doesn’t seem to be completely there, he decides to just get it over with and excuses himself from the dinner table.

Ponyboy sets up the typewriter, grabs the stupid, stupid prompt from his bed and reads it through.

He skims through the rest of things not to do — most of them fairly obvious — and reaches a small bit at the end.

If you’re not sure where to start with this prompt, you can try exploring some of the more common literary topics relating to love. We’ve included a list of some of the most common ones:

Love as a home, someone safe, where outside troubles can’t reach you.

Home isn’t home anymore, not without Ponyboy around. It wasn’t home before, anyways, not with the constant simmering tension, the knowledge that Darry and Ponyboy could start at it at any moment. Living over a ticking time bomb, not knowing how much time was left, waiting for the seconds hand to tick for the last time.

And now every room is riddled with landmines. A single misstep can set them off, saying the wrong word at the wrong time — Soda can’t take it anymore. He loves his brothers, he really does, but he can’t let the tension seep through his skin and into his veins.

He’s started to spend less time at home. It started slowly, a couple months ago, but now that Ponyboy’s gone, he hardly spends any time there at all.

Money’s tight as always, and he takes all the shifts he can. Steve hangs around even when he’s not working, and, honestly, Soda kinda prefers being at the DX over being at home.

Sure, he needs to talk to the occasional customer and put on a fake smile, but the customer doesn’t know him inside and out. They don’t know all his tells and they don’t know that he lost Mom’s pot pie recipe and they don’t know his brothers hate each other. All they know is that they want a candy bar or they need their car fixed.

And then they’re gone.

And whether or not Soda sold the routine, whether or not they know he was faking it, whether or not they think there’s something wrong with him, none of it matters, because they’re never going to see him again. They walk out that door and he’ll never talk to them for the rest of his life.

It’s a breath of fresh air to be able to exist without the constant pressure of holding them all together.

And then there’s Steve.

Steve, who sits on the counter while he does his book reports. Who pretends to hate Ponyboy so he won’t go out with them when Soda needs to decompress without his brothers around. Who somehow always knows when he’s worried about his brothers fighting or how disinterested Sandy’s been recently, and starts telling him some crazy, probably made up story.

You get this wrinkle between your eyebrows, Steve told him once, Shows you’re worried ‘bout somethin’.

Sometimes Soda wishes he could come home to Steve, instead of Darry and Ponyboy, go out with him instead of Sandy.

Then he realises what he just thought and a wave crashes down on him, a wave of ungrateful and don’t care about them and queer.

2. Venatus amoris. Being loved as something to hunt, to be achieved.

You don’t become Boy of the Year without picking up a few tricks on how to be well-liked.

If Darry wants someone to like him, he’ll get them to like him. He’s got it down to a science at this point.

Now, love, that’s a trickier bit. He’s not all that sure how to get that. But for now, being liked is enough.

He’s learned how to smile and avoid dangerous questions. He’s learned how to hide the parts of himself that other people don’t like — the part of him that can’t lose and goes to the bathroom after a bad game because he can’t break linoleum the way he can break drywall. The part of him that doesn’t understand what people want when they talk to him and goes over every interaction when he’s trying to fall asleep. The part of him that feels things as strongly as his little brothers do.

People like a pretty shell, they don’t like a messy, feeling person.

The doors in the Curtis household don’t have locks, though, and the walls are thin. So when he punches the bathroom wall after losing because stupid fucking Mark couldn’t run fast enough, the whole house can hear him. He can’t turn on the shower to drown out when he’s crying because they have one bathroom in the house, and you better believe Ponyboy and Sodapop will barge in if they need to.

There’s no hiding, no covering himself in a shell.

Which is fine, until this fifteen-year-old kid shows up with Soda one day, claiming to come from New York. Darry doesn’t mind if his brothers and their best friends know that he’s a sore loser, but he’ll be damned if this asshole knows a thing about him. Dallas Winston is still a stranger, even if he’s a teenage hood, and it means that Darry’s walls come up.

Which is. Exhausting.

Dallas seems to be everywhere. He’s latched onto Johnny, and Johnny’s always with Ponyboy, so there’s no escape.

And he isn’t falling for Darry’s usual tricks. He scowls at Darry’s forced smiles and scoffs at the questions he asks without caring. Either he doesn’t notice social cues, or doesn’t care about them. Whichever it is, he doesn’t bother to hide that he doesn’t like Darry, and seems to get a rise out of getting him to try and prove himself.

Which finally pushes Darry over the edge. Why should he give a fuck what anyone thinks about him? Being well-liked only got him so-called friends that forgot him as soon as they threw their caps into the air.

So what if Dallas Winston doesn’t like him? So what if he thinks he’s a weakling? So what if those years didn’t mean shit to Paul and Mark and Noah?

Who gives a fuck? Darry definitely doesn’t.

“What’s your fucking problem with me?” It comes out scathing.

And Dallas Winston has the fucking gall to look him up and down judgementally and smirk impassively. You’re in my house you asshole. “You ever told me anything that wasn’t a lie?”

Out with the forced smiles, out with the meaningless questions, out with the closed doors.

You wanted the real me? Here he fucking is. In all his glorious colours.

So he snaps and he stares and he doesn’t ask about what he doesn’t care about. The underlying Are you happy now? grows sharper and louder and covers up the noise outside, so much that he doesn’t notice when the contempt starts to leave, when something else starts to grow. Maybe Dallas doesn’t quite like him, but there’s something else there.

He doesn’t notice it, any of it, until Steve’s handing him the phone, saying Dally asked for him.

Johnny’s not entirely sure when, but at some point during the seventh grade, a fire started burning in his chest.

He doesn’t notice any of it until he’s screaming because there’s nothing else you can do with a body full of bullets.

3. Ignis amoris. Love as fire: uncontrollable, burning, intense.

He doesn’t know how it was before. Was it frozen over or just numb? Was there anything there at all?

Maybe it was just empty. What was the point of anything without the little flame to enlighten it?

At first it was quiet, warm, crackling in tune with Ponyboy’s excited rambling. They were ten and twelve, and it was the first time that Johnny found out what it meant for someone to see him and care.

As days turned into weeks turned into months, casual touches and toothy grins and barks of laughter threw firewood into the flame. It would flare protectively when a Soc shoved Soda when he was just trying to get to class, burn warmly when Steve waited for them in his car despite having a free last period, thaw even the coldest of nights as long as Dally was in the lot beside him. It reached his cheeks when Darry called him smart and burned brighter every evening spent with Two-Bit, wandering around and avoiding responsibility.

But when it really roars to life, when it becomes a starved monster that takes over Johnny’s body, is when crickets fill the air or the wind whistles past his ear or the low rumble of whatever cars are still driving around reaches the lot, whispering to him as he lies on his side, eyes tracing Dally’s profile.

When it crawls up his throat, when it starts making his brain do flips, is when the stars glitter in the sky above him or when clouds crawl over them and bathe the city in darkness or when it’s pouring and he’s running with Dally, jackets over their heads, trying to find a roof to huddle under.

When it turns from warmth to heat, when it turns from comfort to exposing hidden truths about himself, is when he lies next to Dally in the lot, both pretending that they don’t have to pretend, fingers inching closer, pinkies only just grazing as the sun comes up.

And then he has the sun to bring him heat, and the fire turns back into embers with small, pale flames above it, and Dally’s still beside him but it isn’t the same when there isn’t the rush of adrenaline, the weight of the news stories, the freedom that darkness brings.

But it burns nonetheless.

There is a world where that fire never starts burning. Where Johnny’s chest stays empty and cold and dark, where the hearth gathers dust as it’s beaten day after day.

In that world, Johnny doesn’t survive.

How ironic, then, that it should be fire to take him from this one.

4. Furor amoris. Love as madness: all-consuming. We are blinded by it, confounded, and act purely out of passion, rationality all but forgotten.

Dally isn’t thinking. His head is completely blank, just like that bullshit the hippies spread around.

A couple minutes ago, he was stumbling around hazy, dark blues, forest greens wrapping around him, black ink dripping down from the sky.

Now there’s red streaks tunneling around him, bringing him down the only direction he can go in.

Dead.

Red like Johnny’s jacket collar four months ago in that field that Dally takes a long way around to avoid seeing.

Dead.

Red like when the church brought them straight into hell yesterday.

Dead.

Red like the rumble.

Dead.

Red like the sirens following him as he runs for his life.

5. Amor post mortem. Love after death; overcoming the menial, human barriers of a heart beating. Love as the only eternal thing in a life full of the fleeting.

Ponyboy sighs and lies back on his bed.

Usually, Johnny would be lying next to him, bouncing ideas off him to see if anything inspired him. Dally would come storming in, not even bothering to knock. Mom would ask if he made any progress when he came back down to dinner. Dad would tell him it was fine, that he’d think of something like he always did.

It’s hard to come to terms with.

Maybe part of him will always be in denial. Maybe part of him will always turn to Mom to ask where the oven mitts are. Look for Johnny whenever he steps into a room. Trust that Dally’ll get back at whoever tries to hurt him. Want to ask Dad to tell that story about when they were kids again.

Is that what love is?

This can’t possibly be it. It can’t possibly be something that follows Ponyboy around, wakes him up when he thinks he’s finally worked past his nightmares, seems to disappear then comes back to haunt him, crawling up from behind to see if it can finally get a scream out of him.

No, it can’t be. It isn’t.

What it is is Darry staying up late to calm him down from a nightmare. It's Steve knowing when to quit the teasing. It's Two-Bit leaving books on his nightstand without a word about it. It's Soda asking him about his day, every day without fail, no matter how tired he is.

What it was was Dally offering to teach him to fight. Johnny listening to him every time he went on a rant or monologued about whatever book he’d just read. Mom setting aside a couple hamantaschen for him when he had track until late on Purim. Doing his bar mitzvah in the same tallit his father had done his in.

And maybe it didn’t change anything. In fact, it didn’t.

Love doesn’t bring people back to life and it doesn’t give them a happy ending and it doesn’t take away all the struggles that come with just being alive. Sometimes it’s just there, and that’s all that matters.

#this was actually going to be my gift exchange work #but i got uninspired in the middle and decided to change it #there's no steve or two-bit because the literary themes i assigned them i didn't actually have any ideas for #it was just because i felt obligated to do the whole gang lol #but anyways #jewish curtis brothers #even if it's just two sentences #because they're always jewish in my heart #also i literally cackled while giving johnny ignis amoris #and darry and dally's dynamic is quite possibly the funnest one to write #and i write it differently every time #darry curtis #dally winston #darrel curtis #dallas winston #sodapop curtis #ponyboy curtis #steve randle #stevepop #johnny cade #not tagging two bit because i didn't talk about the poor guy #the outsiders #the outsiders book #the outsiders musical #chippedshake #fanfic

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marvelwitchergilmore · 7 months ago

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Just Wanted To Hear Your Voice

Summary: Joel Miller x Fe!Reader -> You and Joel by no means are 'friends', but when things go wrong, you find comfort in hearing his voice.

Disclaimer: Mentions of murder, death, swearing, blood, gunshot wounds. Enemies to lovers, I guess. Single moms hitting on Joel. Hint of fake dating. Age-gap but not really specified. Angst, fluff/smaller intimate moments, Ellie calls Joel 'dad' and they have a cute moment. This is kind of a long one. Not Proof Read.

Yourself and Joel were by no means friends.

In fact, there hadn’t really been a time since you’d both met that you hadn’t knowingly hated each other. He found you too “new” – whatever the hell that meant. And you found him to be, well, an asshole.

You’d both first met through mutual friends. If you could call them that. You’d call Frank a friend. Bill was just…well, all being said he was a decent guy. He just didn’t take much to people.

A small lunch had been put on, allowing a nicer air of discussion around the topics of smuggling and trading. Initially, Joel had been…nice. As nice as he could be for an asshole.

But when he found out you were the one that the suppliers talked through, he practically ran in the other direction.

“She’s too new, Frank.”

Frank shook his head. “Just give her a chance. I promise. She knows more about this than you think.”

Walking around the corner, pretending not to have been eavesdropping, you held up a bottle of wine. “Figured this would go nice with the food?”

Frank smiled. Bill yelled.

“Did you take that from my-”

Keeping eye contact with Joel as you handed the bottle over to Frank, you yelled back to Bill. “Relax. I brought it with me. Your precious collection is safe.”

Bill relaxed after that and Frank went to find a bottle opener. And you stood with Joel in the sunny path.

“If you don’t want my suppliers, you can just say so to my face. But have it be based on their product. Not on how “new” you think I am. Whatever the hell that means.” Turning away, you walked back to the dinner table and acted as if nothing happened.

Ultimately, Joel agreed – however, to a smaller shipment.

“This is a trial run. If you get caught-”

“We won’t.”

For a moment, Joel looked confused, but then seemed to convince himself of something else and the conversation was cleared up before you all went your separate ways.

Except, the trial shipment never made it to Joel. At least, not all of it.

“You're short.”

“Trust goes both ways, Miller.”

Joel didn’t miss the way you were covered in scratches and bruises that were freshly forming. It had shocked him when he rounded the corner and found you considering he didn’t think you were also a delivery courier.

With a heavy sigh, Joel pocketed the goods and handed over his items before he turned to walk away.

“Wait.”

He stopped and looked back at you where he found you pulling an old card from your jacket pocket. “My details. In case you need to reach me.”

Joel took them reluctantly. “Thanks.” Then he nodded to your head. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Then you walked away. But he called after you. “Hey, don’t you need mine?”

“Relax, Miller. I know how to reach you.”

Each meeting after that never got less colder. It was a business exchange being made with minimal trust via delivery system.

And then one day you simply dropped off the face of the planet when you were meant to be making another delivery to him in Boston.

“I knew it! She was too new!”

“Joel.”

“I warned Frank. I told him she would never-”

“She’s been good so far.” Tess explained. “Maybe she’s just having to lay low for a day or two. Security has gotten tighter with the fireflies going around.”

That was true but Joel couldn’t shake the feeling. Then one afternoon, your voice came over the radio.

“Wait a sec. He’s here.”

Tess stood from the chair and handed the receiver over to Joel who had just walked through the door.

“It’s Y/n.” Tess mouthed and the buried fury began to erupt inside of Joel.

“Yeah.”

“Joel?” Your voice crackled over the radio.

“You were meant to be here three days ago.”

“I know. But I’m not coming.”

“What?” Joel’s fury was starting to become white hot. “No, we had a deal.”

“I am sorry, Joel.”

He breathed out. “So what are you gonna do? Run with our supplies? Why call?”

You fell silent for a moment before your voice crackled back over the radio. “Guess I just wanted to hear your voice. I am sorry. To both of you.”

Then you signed off.

And he never heard from you again.

Until he found himself in need of an extra pair of hands at the house Tommy and Maria had set him and Ellie up in. As he stood on his porch in the morning sunlight, he heard a familiar set of tires pull up against his driveway.

First, Tommy stepped out of the passenger side. “Hey, figured you might need some extra panels. The ones around here have mostly rotted away with the winter.”

Then the driver stepped out. And Joel had to check he was still alive.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” You had beaten Joel to his own thoughts.

“Tommy, what the fuck is she doing here?”

Rounding his truck with the extra panels over his shoulder, Tommy looked between both yourself and Joel. “You’ve both met?”

“Yeah, I ran a couple supplies to him a while back.”

“Run off with them more like. What the fuck are you doing here?”

Placing your sunglasses into your shirt pocket, you climbed the stairs of his porch. “Wow, warm welcome. If you must know, I moved here. And I’m guessing you have, too.”

Tommy piped up. “Yeah, Y/n found us after-”

You shot a look at Tommy and he shut up. “After I left Frank and Bill. They left a note for you, if you’ve seen them.”

Joel nodded. “I got it.”

“Good.” And for a moment, the short silence was awkward. “So what can I do?”

“Fuck all.”

Tommy slapped his brother on the shoulder. “She can help fix this porch before Ellie falls through the rotting wood.”

“I can do it myself.”

You looked around and then back at Joel. “Couple extra hands can’t hurt.”

You were right. Joel hated that you were right. And the only reason why he didn’t completely kick you from his home was because the image of Ellie’s foot slipping through one of the wooden slats earlier that morning kept flashing through his mind.

You were banned early on from his porch, left to measure and cut wooden slats for one side of the porch whilst Tommy worked on the one between yourself and Joel, and Joel worked on the opposite side.

Most of it was finished by the time Ellie came strolling back up the driveway. “Joel, you won’t believe what happened today- Hi.”

You looked at Ellie and smiled. “Hi.”

From where Ellie was standing, you were a friend of Tommy’s. “I’m Ellie.”

You went to shake Ellie’s hand and introduce yourself when Joel came around the corner. “I’m-”

“Nobody. Ellie, get inside.”

From the look Joel gave at the sight of you, Ellie didn’t question his order. But she did question his judgement. So, just before he shut the door behind her, she turned back to him.

“Be nice.”

“I am nice.”

Ellie looked around. “Has she been helping all day?”

Joel couldn’t bring himself to voice the answer so just nodded.

“Then be nice.”

Joel just turned her around and lightly pushed her inside. “There’s some soup on the stove.”

Ellie was quick to turn back around just before he shut the door. “I’ve got homework and I…I don’t know…”

Joel just nodded. “I’ll help you.”

Ellie smiled. “Thank you. And be nice.”

An hour or so later, Joel had finally gotten rid of you, leaving him and Tommy with Ellie as she sat at the kitchen table trying to figure out her homework.

Which Joel and Tommy were no help with.

“When would I ever need this shit?”

“Ellie,” Joel sighed. “Language.”

“When would I ever need this stuff?”

Joel nodded. “Better.” Then he turned to Tommy.

“Don’t ask me. I don’t know how a fucking thing is taught anymore.”

“Well do you know who does?” Ellie asked.

“Can’t you ask your teacher?” Joel asked but Ellie shook her head. “Why not?”

“She’s…scary.”

Joel held back a laugh. “She’s scary?”

Ellie didn’t know how else to put it. “She got mad because I didn’t do fractions how she wanted me, too.”

“Did you get the right answer?”

She nodded. “Still got mad though.”

Joel looked to Tommy. “How can fractions change?”

Tommy shrugged. “Beats me. But I do think I know someone who might be able to help. Promise they’re not scary. She tutors a couple of the kids in the square. I can ask if she can drop by later on.”

“Really?”

Tommy nodded. “Sure, kid.”

It was a day later when Joel got a knock to his front door and found you standing there.

“What the fuck are you-”

You held back your smile. “Doing here? Guess I just wanted to hear your voice again.”

Joel wasn’t amused. You held your hand up. “I’m just here to help your daughter. Trouble with homework?”

“You’re the tutor?”

You nodded. “I’m the tutor.”

“You’re a smuggler.”

“I was a teacher before I was a smuggler.”

Then Ellie’s voice called out. “Joel! Who is it?”

Ellie appeared by his side, holding the door open wider. “Oh, hi.”

“Ellie, right?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“I’m Y/n. I’m, hopefully,” you looked from Joel and back to Ellie, “going to be your new tutor.”

“Promise you won’t get mad if I don’t do it your way?”

You nodded. “A lot of kids, and parents, learn differently from the way your teacher wants people to learn. Promise I won’t get mad.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Then Ellie looked at her dad and nudged him. “Joel…”

“What?”

“Let her in. I need her help.”

Reluctantly, Joel let you inside your home. “Come on, kitchen’s this way.”

You followed Ellie through her home and towards where she’d set up her homework station and you sat opposite her whilst Joel brought in a couple of old items from the garage outside and laid them on the kitchen island.

By the looks of it, the things he was ‘fixing’, weren’t in desperate necessity of a new working life. Especially considering he only ‘worked’ on them when you looked in his direction.

“Is he always like this?” You whispered to Ellie across the table. Ellie looked to her dad.

“Sometimes. Do you two know each other or something?”

You nodded. “Or something.”

“Aren’t you meant to be talking about contemporary…normal…analytics or something.”

You looked at Joel and smiled. “Or something.” Then you turned back to Ellie when he finally looked you in the eye.

“Let’s try the next line.”

You were in Joel’s home for another hour before you looked at your watch. “I’ve got to go, but I run a small class in the dance hall every Tuesday if you want to join us next week? I think you’d find it fun. You don’t even have to talk if you don’t want to. But it can provide some good insight into what you’re doing at school.”

“Why can’t you be one of the teachers?”

You laughed. “I’ve got my hands full helping others in town. But if your teacher is ever sick, I’ll step in.”

Ellie thought she already knew the answer. “How often does that happen?”

“Not very often.”

Ellie grimaced.

“But still, come on Tuesday. And if you hate it, you don’t have to come again.”

“Okay.”

Joel stood. “I’ll walk you out.”

And he did so, walking you to the end of his driveway towards your truck. “Thank you, for helping her.”

You shook your head. “Don’t mention it.”

“This doesn’t mean we’re okay.”

You gave a flat smile. “Joel, I’m just helping your daughter. We don’t even have to interact outside of you dropping her off at my classes in the week. I get you don’t like me, but that doesn’t mean you have to actively hate me. I’m just trying to help.”

“Like you helped me in Boston?”

You didn’t say anything in reply to that. “Goodnight, Joel. Give Ellie this.”

He opened the paper. “What is it?”

“It’s a schedule. And my radio code. If she needs my help, she knows where to find me.”

You and Joel didn’t talk much, if at all, after that. Ellie attended your classes when they were on and much to his chagrin, Ellie had found a friend in you.

Why was it out of all the people, in all the towns, in all the worlds, it had to be Jackson where you were? And why did you have to be one of the first people Ellie made friends with?

But one afternoon as he was sitting by the kitchen table, tuning up his guitar, he got a sense of deja vu.

The radio in the corner of the kitchen crackled and your voice sounded through its speakers.

“Why are you calling?”

“Just wanted to hear your voice.” You replied. “Joel, it’s Ellie.”

His heart dropped. “What? Is she okay?” He’d completely forgotten she was with you after school before she’d head to the bar to walk up with Tommy.

“She’s fine, but I think you should come down here. She needs her dad.”

Joel was inside the barn hall calling out for you and Ellie when he entered one of the back rooms that had your name and a large poster that looked like it had been decorated by some of the school kids taped on the outside.

As Joel walked inside, he found you and Ellie sat on a bench, your arm over her shoulder. And when you saw him, you whispered something to Ellie before she looked around and found Joel.

Immediately, she ran over to him and crushed him with a hug. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. Babygirl, I’ve got you. What happened?”

Joel managed to pull away a little so he could get a look at her face. “What’s going on?”

“I’m really sorry.”

“Joel, can I speak to you for a moment? Ellie, want to grab your things?”

Ellie looked to you and nodded, forcing herself from Joel’s embrace as she walked back to the bench to grab her bag and books.

“What’s going on?”

You sighed and spoke quietly. “It’s best if you ask Ellie about it but some asshole kid made a comment about Ellie and she stood her ground. As a teacher, I can’t condone her actions. I can’t condone what the kid said, either. But off the record, she was right to stand up for herself and I’m glad she did.”

Joel had to read between the lines from what you said and once Ellie was back at his side, he gave you a curt nod and headed for the door. He didn’t get any answers from Ellie until the next morning at the breakfast table when, in the open silence of the morning, she finally explained what happened.

“I…I know I’m not your daughter, Joel. But as families go, you’re the closest thing I’ve got to one. Some kid,” Ellie named him. “He said some things about me. About me having a family. A…about…about having a dad. Eventually, I lost it and pinned him to one of the posts and Y/n had to break it up. I…I didn’t stick around after that but she came to find me later. I know I shouldn’t have attacked him. He deserved it but I know I shouldn’t have…I just want to tell you I’m sorry and that if Tommy has to do something or if I have to leave, I will-”

Joel shook his head. “No. No, you did right. And, Ellie?”

She looked at him.

“You’re my daughter in every other way that counts. And if you want me to be your dad…I know we’re not blood but, if you see me as your dad…if you say I’m your dad, that’s okay. You’re my family, too.”

Ellie didn’t know what to say exactly so, looking down at her hands, she nodded trying to will the tears away. “Mmh, y-yeah. I…I’d like that.”

Then Joel smiled before standing and cradling his arms around his daughter. “And you don’t have to leave. Y/n’s on your side, too.”

“You really should be nicer to her. She’s a good person, Joel. I know something happened back in Boston but…are you going to hold it against her forever?”

Joel thought about it for a while. He probably would be thinking about it for a while longer, too. You had done what you had said. You had helped. You were helping.

“How about I make us some breakfast? Eggs?”

Ellie nodded.

Joel stood with a smile, kissing the top of her head quickly before turning around. “Sunny side up or scrambled?”

“Scrambled.”

“Coming up. You brushed your teeth?”

Ellie shook her head and stood. “I’ll be back.”

Just as she got to the kitchen entrance, she stopped herself and turned back. “Hey…dad?”

Joel turned around to face her as if it was the most natural thing in the world until he realised what she’d finally called him. “Yeah?”

Ellie let the moment settle. “Thank you.”

Joel just nodded before waving the spatula at her. “Go on, brush your teeth. And maybe run a brush through your hair.”

Ellie laughed a little before disappearing upstairs leaving Joel to finish cooking breakfast with a faint smile on his face. Never in his whole life had he ever imagined hearing someone call him “dad” again, but it washed over him like a fresh wave.

Then he remembered what she had told him.

What Ellie had said about you.

He never thought he’d be called “dad” again. Maybe some things could change for the better after all. He’d just need to learn to trust you more. Trust you in a way that didn’t have the end result be the same as Boston.

It took Joel a week to approach you.

During that week, you saw him across the square. He walked her to your lessons and waited for her every day. By day four, he stood a little closer to the building until one afternoon, when you thought everyone had left, his voice rang through your classroom.

No “hello”, no coughing, no calling of your name to get your attention. Just…

“Thank you.”

You internally swore at yourself for jumping the way you did. Looking around the room, your brain let itself relax when you realised you were correct in your initial thought of who the voice belonged to. Not the rest of the people your head named after him.

“Joel.” You breathed, a hand against your chest. Then you fixed yourself.

Standing straighter with a couple books cradled in your arm, you turned and faced him properly.

Joel felt a little awkward but considering you seemed to not mention how he’d scared you, he didn’t bother to mention it either.

“Thank you,” he repeated. “Ellie..told me how you helped her, so I just…didn’t want it to go unnoticed.”

Never in your life had you heard Joel say so much as a nice thing towards you. To others, it was few and far between. But to you; not so much.

You didn’t know how to take it exactly. “I appreciate that, I do. But that’s not why I did it.”

Ellie had told him the rest of the story when she came back downstairs for breakfast. How you’d broken up the fight, called out the student and warned the rest of the class before dismissing them. And how you’d spoken to her when you found her. You didn’t make her feel scared or “shit” as Ellie had put it every so gracefully to him. And if he was being honest, Ellie’s love for actual school was much better even just after a few weeks with you.

“She’s a good kid, Joel.” You told him. “I don’t pretend to know what either of you went through to get here. But despite whatever did happen, she’s a good kid. She, nor anyone else, deserved to be treated the way she did. She stood up for herself and I’m proud of her for that. And I hope you are, too.”

Joel could only nod. “I am.”

You nodded in agreement. “Good.” You went to turn away to collect the rest of the books but then quickly turned back around. “Oh, here. Let me give you this.”

Joel was about to walk himself before you called out so, standing in the middle of the room a little worried about what you were going to give him, he watched as you rushed towards your desk and picked up a piece of paper.

Walking over, you held it out to him. “We’re having a parent-teacher night next week. Just gives the parents a chance to talk about the kids and see their work for this year. They say it’s mandatory but I do hope you’ll show up.”

Rubbing his jaw, Joel read the page. “Sure.”

“Good. Don’t tell Ellie but I plan on showing a couple of her school books. She’s a smart kid.”

“Smart mouth, too.”

You laughed a little. “That, too.”

But all in all Joel agreed. “I’ll be there.”

“Goodnight, Joel.”

“Yeah, night.” Joel reminded himself that he had to leave and finally made his way towards the door.

Yet he stopped by the door and looked back to where you went back to collecting the rest of the books and he couldn’t help but feel his mind was changing on you. He couldn’t place why but the fact Ellie liked you was a start.

By the time Parent-Teacher night rolled around, Joel found himself being bossed around by Ellie as he got dressed.

“Put on the green one!” Ellie shouted up the stairs.

“What?”

“The green shirt. Put that one on.”

“Why?”

“Just do it!”

Joel grumbled but did as he was told. And once he was showered and dressed, Ellie practically shoved him out of the door. “Come on, we’re gonna be late!”

“Since when did you become so eager to get to school? I usually have to drag you out of bed.”

“I know but tonight’s important.” Ellie laughed. “Come on.”

Joel found himself laughing, too as he locked up before they both headed towards his truck. Maybe they could have walked but Joel had a feeling by the time the night had finished, Ellie would be about ready to fall asleep.

And when they did finally walk inside, Joel looked around before he spotted a familiar face in you. And then you spotted him and waved. Ellie waved back.

Then Joel was greeted by Ellie’s teacher. You chuckled as you watched them both step back and recoil a little. Like father, like daughter.

“Fuck.” They both swore under their breath.

“Mr Miller.”

Joel started getting flashbacks of his middle school principal who seemed to have a vendetta against him and Tommy.

“Ellie.”

Ellie nodded, moving to stand behind Joel a little. “Mrs Davis.”

“Mr Miller, I was hoping to speak to you about Ellie. She’s been, let’s say, a little harsh in her language since she got here. And, despite her improving grades, she hadn’t quite been grasping the concept of how we complete work-”

Joel and Ellie got another shock when you suddenly appeared from behind Mrs Davis, except this was one of pleasant surprises.

“Mrs Davis-”

“Please, do not interrupt-”

“Frankie’s parents are asking to speak to you personally.” That seemed to change Mrs Davis’ tune.

“Oh, right. Um, please…please excuse me.” You pointed her in the direction of Frankie and his parents and replaced where she stood and only spoke when she was finally out of ear-shot.

“Sorry about her. And please ignore everything she said.”

Joel raised his brow. “Everything?”

You both looked at Ellie and then back at each other. “Okay, maybe not everything. But she has been swearing less.”

Joel gave a ‘dad’ look to Ellie but she tried to hold back her smile as she held up her hands. “Hey, she said less.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Ellie, I hope you don’t mind but I’ve decided to show some of your work.”

“Really?”

She seemed shocked, rather than horrified. You nodded. “Both of you follow me?”

They did and once you’d all reach one of the middle tables, you held one of the books out to Joel.

“Holy shit.” Ellie whispered. Joel nearly shut the book to give her another look but she apologised and studied the books you’d laid out.

“Ellie, do you mind giving your dad and I a minute?”

Ellie looked between you both before giving a slight smile and nodding. “Okay.”

Then she disappeared into the crowd.

“How is she?” Joel asked, looking through Ellie’s books.

“She’s good. The swearing could use a bit of an improvement,” you smiled a little and Joel finally met your eyes. You tried your best to avoid taking a mental picture or keeping a written memory of how he looked. “She’s doing well, Joel. She’s even starting to make friends. It’s taking her a while to trust people, but she’s getting there like the rest of us.”

Joel’s stare softened for a moment.

You forced yourself to look away and back at her books. “She needs a bit of help with her maths and science but we’re working on that in our sessions. But she’s excelling at history.”

“There’s a museum not too far away. I was thinking about taking her to see it.”

You graced him with another smile. “I think she’d really enjoy that, Joel.”

He nodded, feeling pleased at your agreement.

“Look, I just need to go and speak to a couple other parents but, feel free to stay here as long as you’d like. We…we have the kids write in a diary every week. Just jotting down what they want to work on, or what they want help with in class. Some kids even write short stories and things. I think you’d like what Ellie did.”

Lifting the diary from underneath the pile, you handed it over to Joel.

“Last couple of pages.”

With a smile, you left him alone.

Joel opened it up. There was the usual. Reviews of books they’d read in class. What Ellie wanted help with (science), what she enjoyed (history). Joel found himself smiling as he read through the comments. He could hear her voice in his head as he did so.

Then he got to the back couple of pages.

It was different sketches of their home. Of their windows, porch, backyard. Then small notes; things he’d told her. Things to remember when playing the guitar, how to fix the porch, what things are in a car. Just small notes of information she believed important to her.

You didn’t know how long you’d left Joel to fend for himself. You knew the minute he walked in that all the single moms had their radars switched on. They already tried to get his attention whenever he walked past the school during the day. But this Joel was freshly showered and wasn’t covered in layers of heavy clothing. He had a green shirt that made his eyes stand out more than usual, his hair softening as it dried in the warmth of the building.

You didn’t know how long you’d left him alone, knowing it wouldn’t take long for the single moms to make their move. But when you were wading deep through double digits of parent-talks, Ellie came and found you.

“I think Joel needs your help.”

You saw when Ellie was looking and held back a short laugh. As Joel managed to get out of the grasp of one woman, another one popped up out of nowhere. And then another one. And another. And another.

“I tried but they kinda swarmed over and I got pushed out of the crowd.”

You chuckled watching the comedy play out in front of your eyes as Joel tried his best to escape.

“Okay, give me a minute.”

“I think it’ll take longer than that but, good luck.”

Making your way over, you called out to him before forcing yourself through the crowd. A few women were about to scold you for doing so until they realised it was you. The teacher. Apparently in search of Joel, the parent.

“Help me.”

Taking Joel by the hand, you drew him in front of you before taking him by the shoulders. “Sorry, ladies but I need to talk with Mr Miller for a moment.”

Practically directing him out of the crowd, you beckoned Ellie over and she immediately pushed around the crowd to get to both you and Joel. You and Ellie looked back to find the women still standing waiting for him to come back.

“I don’t know about you two but I could use a drink.”

“Yes.” Ellie agreed completely.

“Don’t you have work?”

“I’ve spoken to enough parents tonight. Mrs Davis will only speak to them after me anyway. Want that drink, or would you like for me to throw you back into the pack?”

“Anything but the second one.”

“Can I have one?”

“No.” Both you and Joel said before he added. “You can have a soda.”

Grabbing your bag, you showed Joel and Ellie to the back door of the school and you all took the long way round the building to get towards the bar.

“I’ll go and tell Tommy you’re coming.” Ellie took off running. Joel tried to shout back but she just called back.

“Be safe! I know!”

“That kid is gonna be the death of me, I swear.”

You laughed, slowing your steps as you and Joel were finally far enough away from the school.

“Thank you for showing me her work. And the other stuff. Kinda made my night.”

“It wasn’t the single moms asking you a thousand questions that did it?”

Joel chuckled. “Thanks for that, too.”

“Oh, you’ll need to thank Ellie for that one. She came and got me. Who knows, if she didn’t, you could have drowned in phone numbers and radio stations.”

Joel tried his best to laugh it off. But you disagreed.

“Don’t knock it. Hot and handsome single dads are few and far between in this town.”

Joel couldn’t help but repeat your words. “Hot and handsome.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide your slight embarrassment of letting your inner thoughts slip. “Alright.”

“No, no. Please. Tell me more of these hot and handsome single dads.”

“You’re hilarious. I hope you know how funny you are.”

“Why?” Joel asked. “Does that make me hotter?”

You rolled your eyes, trying your best to hide your smile. “Okay. Don’t let it go to your head, Miller.”

“Too late. It’s already there.” Joel reached for the door handle of the bar and held it open for you. “Come on.”

“Thanks.”

Entering, you found the place a little quieter than usual before you both met Ellie at the bar and Tommy made his way over.

“Here you go.”

“I already ordered for you.” Ellie told you both. “I didn’t know what you drank but Tommy said he remembered.”

You thanked them both before accepting Joel’s invitation to sit with them at the bar. Joel sat in the corner, his back resting against the wall whilst you sat between both him and Ellie as she moved up quickly before you could take your original seat.

And for the first time, you both talked.

At first, it was just about a few things around town. Joel asked you about how you got into teaching, or at least, why you taught tutor sessions but not lessons at the school. You told him the truth. Day one of you arriving here and meeting Mrs Davis, you knew you didn’t want to be dictated by her rules that were already scaring the kids enough into thinking they were back with FEDRA. They needed help learning and a safe space to do so. That was where you could help.

Then you told him you were sorry about Tess. He tensed for a while, unsure of what to say or how to react.

“I know she meant a lot to you.”

Conversation flowed for a little while longer than a distraction was provided as Ellie disappeared to the toilet and a group of moms walked in through the front door.

Then Joel ducked and somehow tried to shrink himself in the corner of the bar. “Shit.”

You laughed. “Oh please, they won’t hate you for it. In fact it just adds to the chasing element. More than anything they’ll be hating me for dragging you away for some ‘alone time’.”

“Why? Because I’m hot and handsome?”

“I regret saying it now.”

“They’re your words, Darlin’.”

You tried to ignore what his words and accent did to you, and tried to focus on the fact that one of the moms was making their way towards both of you.

“Where’s Ellie?”

“There was a line, she’s probably still in it.” You told him. “Relax, once she comes out, she’ll see that you’re uncomfortable and you can both go home.”

“You can see I’m uncomfortable.”

“Joel.” You leveled with him. “You look like you’re about to run out of your own skin. How could you have been a smuggler in the QZ for so long but be scared of a single mom? Just talked to her.”

“Where are you going?”

You were about to leave when Joel reached out for you. “Going to get Ellie.”

Joel looked at the mom making her way over. She was getting closer. “You said it yourself that she’ll be able to see we’re uncomfortable.”

“We’re?” You questioned. “Joel-”

But you couldn’t say anymore than that because the mom had arrived beside both of you and Joel had tugged you back by your shirt to stand with him.

“Emma, hi.”

She smiled at both of you. “Hi, um, I was wondering if I could speak to Joel. We didn’t really get a chance to finish our conversation since, you know, you came and kinda dragged him away.”

“Yeah,” you laughed. “Sorry about that, it’s just…” You looked at Joel hoping he’d maybe butt into the conversation. “We had to talk about his daughter.”

“I didn’t see you leaving with any of the other parents,” she mentioned to you.

Joel finally spoke up after clearing his throat. “I, uh, well, Ellie actually…invited her out with us.”

“Ellie did?” Emma seemed shocked.

“I did what?”

Both you and Joel seemed more than relieved to see her appear from behind Emma.

Emma looked from Ellie to Joel and then to you, back to Ellie and then she smiled. “I was just hoping to talk with your dad for a minute if that’s okay?”

Taking a quick look at her dad to see him subtly shake his head, Ellie half-faked a yawn.

“We were actually just about to leave.”

“But your drink is still half full.”

“That’s, uh, that’s Tommy’s. Anyway, we’d better be off. Ellie?”

As they got halfway to the door, you called after them, making something up to Emma. “I need to tell you about next week’s homework-”

The doors shut behind you and you rushed to join Joel and Ellie.

“Who was she?” Ellie asked.

“A woman.”

“She was trying to hit on Joel.”

Ellie looked at you. “Hit on Joel or hit you to get to Joel?”

“Both probably.”

Then something strange happened. You and Joel looked at each other and then started to laugh.

On the way back to the school, you explained to Ellie everything that had happened and she started to laugh with both of you before swearing to protect Joel when and where he needed to be.

“Hey, can I drop you off home?”

You hitched a thumb over your shoulder. “I’m just down here. But thanks.”

Then from the car Ellie called out. “Dad! Let’s go!”

Joel laughed and looked back at you where he found a light smile on your face. He tried to ignore what it made him feel.

“You better go, before she comes to hit me to get to you.”

Joel nodded, laughing a little at that. “Okay. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Joel.”

As Joel drove back home, Ellie quickly falling asleep in the passenger seat, but not before saying; “I told you she was a good person.” leaving him to roll his eyes lightly and agree, he found himself thinking over what he had been feeling since he saw you show up beside Mrs Davis.

Maybe his feelings for you were starting to change more than he had expected.

And they only continued to change over the following months.

Three months later, Joel found himself as your actual friend. Between your tutoring sessions with Ellie, and being forced to work together by Tommy when he was a couple hands short for a couple jobs that needed doing around town, you’d both become friends.

And he’d learnt to trust you. And you had learnt to trust him.

From running the lunch tables in the school every Tuesday and Thursday and Friday together, to taking on a couple of patrol shifts on the weekends together, you and Joel earned each other's trust.

And between all of that, you had somehow become Joel’s shield from the rest of the single mothers in the town that did not wish to hide their already obvious crush on Joel.

Until that shield began to crack.

“I heard she left them for dead. Why would anyone want to be with someone like that…he deserves so much better.”

“Left them for dead, more like killed them for everything. And for what? So she can come and teach our kids and steal our men.”

“I’ve tried talking to Maria but she must have her claws in her, too. She doesn’t want to listen to reason. Joel doesn’t deserve her. Nobody does. The stories people tell. And she doesn’t deny them.”

Tommy leaned over the bar. “Don’t listen to them.”

“Hard not to when gossip about you changes every hour.”

“Have you even told Joel what happened?”

You shook your head.

“Why not?”

“I’m happy where I’m at with him. I’m able to help Ellie without her dad wishing me dead because I bailed on a trade.”

Tommy didn’t have the chance to reply because another mom came and sat beside you. “He doesn’t deserve you, you know. He has the choice of a lot of women in this town, and he chooses you? Why?”

You sighed. “Like I told Emma, and Ashely and Tracy and every other mom in your friend group. Joel and I are not dating. We are not a thing. If you want to talk to him, then go ahead but do not blame me for something that I am not doing. And if Joel doesn’t want to talk to you, then maybe take the hint.”

“Why wouldn’t he want to talk to us? What have you been telling him?”

You looked across the bar and shouted to Tommy. “Schedule’s in the glasses!”

“Oh, okay. Thanks!”

And you stood up. But the mom gripped onto your arm to stop you from walking away.

“We know the truth about you and sooner or later, he’ll come to his senses.”

Ripping your arm from her grasp, you made your way out of the doors and down the square. As much and as hard as you tried to forget what she had said, the stories, the gossip and what she had said to you continued to play on your mind.

But a week later, none of that mattered. At least for you. For Joel and Ellie, it meant something different.

When Joel had gotten up that morning, he went about his routine. Getting into the shower, getting dressed, waking Ellie up, getting his work gear ready, knocking on Ellie’s door once again, making breakfast, knocking on her door a third time before she swung it open and stumbled out of her bedroom and into the bathroom. Eating breakfast with his daughter before driving her to school and heading to work.

Except, when he finished work and went to pick Ellie up from the group tutor session after school, he found her sitting outside the doors already waiting for him.

“How was school?”

“Y/n didn’t turn up.”

Joel was confused. “What?”

“I waited for her to, but she didn’t.”

Joel checked the radio. “Did she cancel the session?”

Ellie shook her head. “We were meant to go over the new science homework.”

“Did you try to find Tommy?”

“Couldn’t find him. The dude in the bar said he was on patrol.”

Joel hummed, trying his best to make sure his mind remained focused. Maybe you’d just gotten caught up doing another job. You wouldn’t have forgotten about the kids.

But before he could drive away, there was an uproar of noise coming from the main gates where Tommy rode in as quickly as he could before coming to an abrupt halt.

“What’s going on?”

Joel switched off the engine and unbuckled his seatbelt. “Stay here.”

Ellie did as she was told but wound down the widow in hopes she’d be able to hear what was being said.

“Tommy!”

“Joel! I don’t know what happened but-”

“Who is it?”

Then Tommy went from frantic to unnaturally calm. “It’s Y/n.”

Then Joel saw and slowly made his way over. Your body was slung over the back of a horse before being dragged onto a stretcher. And for a second, Joel saw the worst. He thought you were dead.

“She should be okay if we can get her fixed.”

“What happened? Tommy!”

Tommy joined his brother as you were taken away. “I-I don’t know. She was covering a shift. We were meant to be back an hour ago. But when she didn’t turn up with her partner, I went to look for her. I just found her like that.”

“Dad?” Ellie had gotten out of the car.

“Get back in the car!”

“But-”

“Now, Ellie.”

She just nodded and made her way back.

“Go home, Joel. There’s nothing you can do for her right now.” Those were Tommy’s last words before Maria came running out of one of the town buildings and towards her husband whose hands were covered in patches of blood.

“Is she going to be okay?” Ellie asked, her face pale, as Joel got back into the truck.

“I don’t know.”

You spent the next three days unconscious and Joel spent his time trying to work out what had happened and why. You hadn’t been bitten. You’d been shot.

Joel had also spent three days hearing the whispers around town, hoping to hear any updates on your condition. He couldn’t bring himself to go and see you, and neither could Ellie.

But rather than updates, he heard…stories.

“It’s karma, though, don’t you think?”

“What they say about her? Everything she did? Maybe someone came to get revenge.”

“Maybe it was just self-defence.”

“Would she really do that here?”

“Maybe one of them followed her here and waited for her. After all, she never volunteered for that job.”

“Would you, though? Hunting those things? I couldn’t do it.”

“She's probably just looking for some sympathy. Not getting anywhere with Tommy’s brother – I heard they’ve got a past.”

“A past or a past? Because if I had a past with that man, I’d be making sure it was present and future, too.”

“Would you shoot yourself to make sure of that?”

The woman laughed. “Honey, for a piece of him? I’d do almost anything.”

Over the days, he heard more than just that. Of stories about you and your past before you came to Wyoming. Some were nicer than others, but many were…if he hadn’t somehow become your friend over the last few months, he would have been saying the same thing. So…was it still the same? Were you still hiding something? He still didn’t know what had happened back in Boston. All he knew was that you had practically disappeared off the face of the earth.

When people like you sold his trade, it was usually to someone else. But he hadn’t heard anything. No extra sale. No new traders. Just complete silence.

He had thought about asking you a few times. Part of him, he guessed, still didn’t trust you. Especially since Ellie was now involved, too.

It wasn’t until a week later that Joel could bring himself to come and see you. They’d placed you inside the doctor’s surgery. You still hadn’t woken up but the doctors that were in the town seemed a little more hopeful for you pulling through.

“She’s still young, her body should heal like it did before.”

Joel had to do a double take. “Before?”

The doctor nodded and rested the chart at the end of the bed. “When she arrived here, she collapsed just outside the gates. Thankfully, I was on patrol that day – otherwise they would have shot her. They thought she’d been bitten but…”

The doctor gave a heavy sigh and they both looked back at you before he continued. Joel looked back at the doctor.

“I’ve seen enough of those bites in my life to know the difference between that and a bullet wound.”

“D’you know who shot her?”

The doctor shook his head. “She never could bring herself to tell me. But when Tommy walked in, she looked like she’d pass out again. She didn’t talk for three days after that…then…one day she just opened up. Tommy was the only one she’d talk to and I’d figure he’s the only one who knows that whole story.”

If his brother knew the whole story, why didn’t he ever say anything?

“I suspect she’ll be waking up soon, ‘might be nice if someone is here this time.”

Joel just nodded after a while, realising what the Doctor was asking of him. He’d stay. You were alone last time. You were probably terrified to go through what you did for, as far as he knew, a second time. You shouldn’t have to be alone when you’d wake up, too.

Except, as he sat by your bed, he’d gathered more questions in his head than he had answers.

It took you a while before you could bring yourself to open your eyes, almost like you’d had the deepest sleep of your life and you weren’t ready to get up yet. Beneath your hands and legs you became familiar with the feeling of bedsheets.

Slowly your fingertips felt for some kind of grip. Some kind of notion that you weren’t still left in the dirt, buried between the trees and moss alone. One hand provided you relief. Bedsheets. The other…

Opening your eyes, the brightness cut through your vision until you finally blinked them open and found Joel’s hand in yours.

Carefully looking around the room, you recognised where you were. Only, the last time you were in the same bed, in the same room, you had woken to find yourself alone.

“Take it easy. Tommy…he found you and brought you back.”

You swallowed but your throat felt like it had been attacked by a grater. “How…how long have I been out?”

“Little over a week.”

You relaxed back into the pillows and closed your eyes, forgetting your hand was enclosed in Joel’s.

“Do you remember what happened?”

It took you a moment but you eventually nodded. “The doc…he told me this isn’t the first time you’ve been shot…”

Opening your eyes, your gaze met Joel’s. He looked curious…concerned.

“What happened before you got here?” You waited for his true question. And you didn’t have to wait long.

“What happened back in Boston?”

You figured he’d ask you one day. You just hadn’t expected it to be like this. Joel let you take your time. Blinking back the oncoming tears. Trying to control your breathing. Trying to control your fears from hitting you at full force.

“I was with my team.” You took your time explaining what had happened. When you’d realised Tommy was Joel’s brother, you explained what you could to him. You could deal with Joel hating you for what you’d done. You would have felt the same. But you didn’t want the one place you might have been able to call a home to be thrown away on conspiracy.

“We’d run the route a thousand times. I’d done it on my own for years. But, one night it just poured with rain. Buckets and buckets could have been filled. I remember finding new lakes in parks when I got out, but…umm…”

You swallowed thickly and bit back the tears.

“We were only a couple miles out of Boston so we found shelter. Checked it over. It was clear. We would have been safe for the night. A couple of us stayed on watch for a while but I must have fallen asleep,” tears came to your eyes and a few escaped down your cheeks. “Because…”

You didn’t know where from but you gathered enough strength to bring your voice back, even if only for a short moment.

“Because when I woke, half of my team was missing. A couple of our supplies had been thrown around the place. Grabbed my gun, woke the others and started searching the building. We found the rest of our team on one of the upper floors. One…one of my guys got bit. But he didn’t want to…he didn’t want to die. He’d convinced himself he wasn’t infected and when the others saw, I guess they tried to do something about it but he got…he got one over on them.”

Joel waited for you to continue but then noticed the twitching in your side. You sat up quickly and tried to lift your t-shirt. “It…ahh.”

You closed your eyes from the pain and squeezed Joel’s hand just before he stood up and reached for some of the balm the doctor had made and left by your bedside.

Rounding the bed, Joel sat beside you. “Come here.”

“Joel, it hurts.”

“I know, I know. Can I lift your shirt?”

You nodded and hummed in pain, letting his fingers slowly lift it up. “This might sting, but it’s gonna help.”

You heard Joel open up a metal screw-top tin before he gathered some of it on his fingers and rubbed it gently around and over your healing wound. You let out a small gasp and covered grunt in pain as the hand that had previously been closed in reached for his arm.

“I’m sorry. I know.”

You tried to concentrate on Joel’s continuous movements as he rubbed the balm into your skin. It was less itchy, and it was cooling down a little. The pain in your side was still there but it was becoming bearable.

“The infection came over him pretty quickly.” Joel’s fingers stalled for a moment before he continued, making sure he wasn’t causing more harm than good.

You could finally open your eyes again.

“It all happened so fast. I guess one of us moved and before I knew it…bullets were flying everywhere. I must have gotten caught in them then, but I can’t be sure. I just started shooting and he dropped the gun but then…Joel, he started biting. And I just…I didn’t know what to do. People were trying to help him, trying to help those he was attacking. I just fired. For a moment I thought I could get him out, maybe lose him outside and get back in time. Find another way to you. But he was too fast.”

As your tears fell down your cheek, you hadn’t realised Joel had stopped rubbing the balm into your side and was holding you steady whilst his hand held your face, his thumb tracing the tears away.

You finally looked at him. “I shot them all, Joel. He’d bitten them all. Some in the neck, others in the arm. A few hours and my team that knew every smuggling route, that knew every way into a QZ without being detected, that…that were my family. I tried to wait. Hoped that maybe it was just a bullet graze. That they’d be okay but…just as one turned, so did the others…”

Joel didn’t know fully what to do. If he had known…

He pulled you close to him, kissing your temple before holding you against him. You didn’t know how long he held you for, but you knew he never let you go. He never left your side. He didn’t even try to.

“I don’t know how long it was before I radioed through to you. All I remember was seeing a lot of blood on the floor and wondering why it was down my clothes. But I was glad to hear your voice. Even if you did hate me for bailing on you.” You eventually explained. “I’d managed to get some supplies to take with me. Fixed what I could of my wounds and prayed I’d make it some place. For a while I was okay, my wound was healing. But then I guess I ran into the wrong people. Some guy decided to start firing and I got hit again. I don’t know how long I ran for but the last thing I remembered was hearing horses.”

“Does Tommy know all of this?”

“Parts, but not all.”

Joel wondered whether or not he should tell you about what he’d heard over the last few days. “People…they’ve been talking since you came back…what happened when you went out?”

You shook your head. “I don’t know. I just remember hitting something and then a sharp pain. I told my partner to meet me at the bottom of the hill. Guess the others finished the same as him.”

“What do you want me to tell Ellie?”

“Just tell her I’ll be okay. She doesn’t need to know the whole story yet.”

“Too late.”

Joel and you looked towards the door and found Ellie standing in the hallway. “Mrs Davis let us out early. I wanted to come and see you. And…I’m glad you’re okay. And as far as I’m concerned, everyone can go fuck themselves.”

“Ellie. What have I told you about eavesdropping?” Joel asked her as she walked inside.

“Not…to do it.” She answered slowly. “But you know I’m right. You’ve heard the stories, too.”

“Stories?”

Joel sighed and turned back to you. “People in this town…they’ve got nothing better to do but gossip about what happened to you before you came here.”

Ellie jumped into the chair where Joel had previously been sat. “Yeah, and some of em’ are wild.”

You looked between her and Joel. “Like what?”

Joel looked from his daughter to you and sighed. “Most of them aren’t so nice, but…” Silently, Joel gave his permission to Ellie to tell you.

“There’s one that says you’re some bigwigs daughter who ran away to run his kingdom but then you got overthrown by a rebel group so now you’re waiting here before you can take your kingdom back over.”

You raised your brows. “Wow.”

“And someone else has said you’re actually a fortune teller that is secretly training us to help you and your psychic army to take over the cordyceps and make them human again.”

That one made you laugh a little.

“People have nothing better to do with their time.” Joel told you.

You shook your head. “It’s okay. The people…” you looked at Joel and Ellie. “The people that need to know the truth already know. Nobody else matters.”

Joel smiled at you before looking over at his daughter. “Go and find the doc so he can look her over.”

Ellie nodded before pulling herself out of the chair and spinning out of the door. “I’m really glad you’re okay, Y/n.”

You smiled before looking back at Joel finding him looking at you, too. Then you found your fingers tracing his own.

“I’m really glad you were here with me when I woke up.”

Joel smiled before lifting his hand and lightly brushing the few stray hairs from your face before his eyes found yours.

“Guess I just wanted to be the first to hear your voice.”

You smiled, hearing your own words echoed back to you from him. You leaned into his touch before you felt yourself lean forward a little only to have his lips meet yours in a tender kiss.

With a little confidence growing around your heart, you leaned in a little closer, feeling Joel’s fingers dig a little into your hair as he pulled you closer, and into a deeper kiss.

“Hey, the kid told me- whoa.” Tommy stalled in his tracks and covered his eyes. “Uh, sorry. I…I guess you’re okay. Uh, yeah. I-I’m just gonna-”

Tommy looked around himself, making sure the door he came through was still there and accessible for him to leave through it. “Good–Good door frame job.” He tapped it twice. “I-I’ll remember to knock on next time.”

You chuckled a little, leaning into Joel the same as he did with you as he watched his brother become 12 again and leave through the door.

“I guess we should wait until we’re actually alone before Ellie comes running through her and gets the shock of her life.”

Joel chuckled. “I guess you’re right.”

But he couldn’t help himself. Kissing you once more, you both made sure to listen out for the jingle of the door and when you did, Joel made sure to sit up a little as you leaned back. However, your hand remained in his, his thumb brushing continuously over your knuckles. He pressed a quick kiss to them before Ellie appeared through the door with the doctor who seemed more than relieved to see you awake and alive.

Maybe when you and Joel had met, you were the furthest thing from friends. But now, with a developing connection and deeper feelings, you found yourselves moving further from friends, but in the opposite direction.

Towards happiness.

Towards love.

Towards the light.

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