Twenty Years Later: Joel Miller x F!Reader - Chapter Eleven
Chapter Eleven: Almost
Plot: Joel, Ellie and Y/n work their way across Wyoming in a desperate search for Tommy.
Word Count: 12.6k
Warnings: tlou ep.6 spoilers, language, death, loss of a child, angry outburst, trauma, anxiety attacks, 16+
A/N: SURPRISE! One day ahead of where I thought Iâd be, swooping in for a dose of bedtime angst đ
As always, I have to put that this series is 16+ and I will not be adding anyone to the taglist if your age/range is not specified in your bio. Gotta look out for younger eyes đ
This chapter and the one that will follow are the chapters. Theyâre the culmination of this whole frickinâ journey. Itâs been so fun to eead your theories about Joel and Rosebudâs breakup, and now youâll have (some of) your answers. I hope it lives up to what you imagined, or maybe even surprises you. Above all, I hope yâall enjoy đ
âââââ
December 2023. Somewhere in Wyoming.
Fuck the philosophers of the pre-Cordyceps world.
Time healed nothing.
If anything, time made pain worse. Because, with enough time to study its victim, the pain could evolve. It could morph into anger, bitternessâŠmuch like Cordyceps, it could consume its host until they were shrouded in so many layers of hurt, they became unrecognizable.
Time healed absolutely nothing.
Marlon returned to his cabin, hanging the two rabbits heâd killed on the hook outside the door. The little warmth the home managed to retain welcomed him in, but the inside had changed since heâd been gone.
âWho the hell are you?â
Y/n sat adjacent to Florence, Marlonâs wife, blowing on a spoonful of soup. âA deep admirer of your wifeâs cooking,â she answered.
Marlon stood confused at the door, slowly removing his jacket.
âAnd the gun.â
The old man turned to see another stranger, this one a man, emerging from the kitchen. He had a pistol drawn on Marlon.
âAnd you?â
Joel shook his head, carefully moving towards Marlon, âJust someone passinâ through. Take the gun out, two fingers only, put it outta reach.â
Marlon obeyed, dangling his pistol off his fingers and setting it on an end table. All the while, Y/n sipped her soup.
Marlon looked to Florence, âWhy didnât you shoot them?â
She nodded across the room, âThe gunâs all the way over there. They didnât hurt me by the way.â
âYeah, I got eyes,â Marlon walked to his chair, heâd already deemed Joel as a very minor, if at all, threat.
âHe wonât shoot you,â Y/n interjected, not once looking up from her bowl, âHe threatens everyone he meets.â
Joelâs hardened stare landed on Y/nâs face, her casualty was greatly undermining him.
âYou made âem soup?â Marlon gestured to Y/nâs meal, along with Joelâs untouched bowl that sat on the coffee table.
âYeah, I did,â Florence answered, âItâs cold out.â
Y/n reached across and touched the womanâs arm, âAnd itâs lovely, Florence. Thank you.â
Joel sighed in exasperation, âWeâre lookinâ for my brother.â
Marlon scoffed and removed his baseball cap, âWell, I ainât seen him.â
âI havenât told you what he looks like,â Joel replied.
âHe look anything like you?â Marlon asked.
âA bit.â
Marlon shrugged, âThen I ainât seen him.â
âTheyâve got a girl with them,â Florence nodded up the stairs.
âCan I come down now?â Ellie called from above, overlooking the ground floor.
Joel and Y/n answered at the same time.
âNo.â
âYeah.â
Their eyes flicked to one another, Joelâs frustrated, Y/nâs calm. She was done playing the gunslinging traveler when unnecessary.
Ellie, always siding with whichever of them gave her what she wanted, bounded down the stairs.
âEllie,â Joel reprimanded, as if it would do anything to stop herâŠ
âOoh-wa,â Marlon chuckled, looking to his wife and Y/n.
âWhat did I just say?â Joel said as Ellie joined him.
âJoel, come on,â she replied, aiming her handgun at the couple, âTheyâre like, a thousand.â
Marlon ran his eyes over Ellie, âWhoâs this little psycho?â
âNever mind her,â Joel leaned forward, pushing his map across the table to Marlon, âI need you to tell us where we are.â
âIf you got a map, whyâre you lost?â Marlon asked.
âMustâve missed all the street signs in the enormous fucking forest,â Ellie shot back.
âHo-ly,â Marlon smiled to his wife, the two of them sharing a laugh.
Joel glanced over to Ellie, she was mirroring his posture, his toneâŠshe was trying so damn hard to be like him. âWeâre somewhere here,â he pointed to a spot on the map, âExactly where? And your answer better be the same as your wifeâs.â
Marlonâs eyes flicked to Florence, âYou tell âem the truth?â
âYeah,â she replied.
âAre you tellinâ me the truth?â
âYeah.â
Marlon leaned forward and pressed a finger to a spot on the map. It wasnât the answer Joel was looking for.
âWell,â he holstered his gun, âYou found a great place to hide, I guess.â
âHide?â Marlon chuckled deeply as Joel settled on his couch, âCame here before you and your wife were born, sonny. Get the hell away from everybody.â
âNot his wife,â Y/n was quick to reply before taking another spoonful. It had been three fucking months of assumptions and both Joel and her were exhausted by them.
Florence turned to Y/n, âI didnât want to.â
âEh,â Marlon waved his wife off and looked to Joel, âListen, I didnât mean to upset you about your brother but if youâve come this far, then you know whatâs out there. You seen Cody?â
âYeah, got close enough,â Ellie answered from the arm of the couch, âItâs crawling with Infected.
âYeah, Laramie,â Marlon listed off, âAnd Wind River Reservation. Anywhere people used to be. You canât go there no more.â
Y/n set her soup aside and leaned forward on her elbows, deciding it was finally time to take the conversation seriously. âSo youâve never heard the name Tommy Miller?â
âNope,â Marlon answered.
âWhat about the Fireflies?â Ellie asked.
Florence nodded, âWe get those in the summer.â
âNot the bugs,â Ellie replied, thoroughly put out, âThe people.â
âThere are firefly people?â
Y/n joined the joke and gestured down the length of her body, âIn the flesh.â
Marlon, Florence and Y/n shared a laugh, Joel couldnât tell whether he was more annoyed or disappointed.
âYou got any advice on the best way west?â
âYeah,â Marlon leaned forward, âGo east,â he ran a finger along a stretch of water on the map, âBut you never go past the river here. Ever.â
âWhatâs past the river?â Ellie asked.
âDeath,â Florence answered, âWe never seen whoâs out there, but we see the bodies they leave behind. Some Infected, some not,â she turned to Joel, âIf your brotherâs west of the river, heâs gone.â
Joel and Y/nâs eyes met across the table, both trying to conceal their worry under Ellieâs ever-present gaze, but knowing they could share it with each other.
âYouâre not gonna scare us,â Ellie said, confidently.
Florence nodded towards Joel and Y/n, âScared them.â
They quickly buried their anxieties under blind determination. Whatever lay across the bank, it didnât matter. They had to believe that Tommy was both alive and well on the other side.
Filing out of the cabin, Joel and Y/n marched ahead of Ellie.
âYou donât seriously believe them,â Ellie half-stated, half-asked.
âTheyâve lived here a long time,â Joel replied, trudging through the snow. He could feel his heartbeat speeding up.
Y/n turned around to see why she couldnât hear Ellieâs footsteps following theirs. The girl was unhooking one of Marlonâs rabbits, âEl, come on, donât steal their food.â
Ellie was undeterred as she swung the game over her shoulder, âThey donât know anything. Never heard of the Fireflies.â
âYeah, they wouldnât have out here,â Y/n stretched her arms out around her to the snowy expanse, âDoesnât mean you have to steal t-â
Y/nâs words faded in Joelâs ear, a steady ring filling the space. It was happening again.
Joel stumbled forward, resting a weak hand on a piece of the cabinâs fence, his breathing became labored. His thoughts began to spin with worst case scenarios in all their various forms that could become reality, if what lay on the other side of the river was real. Every nightmare his mind drummed up ended with Y/n or Ellie d-
âJoel,â Y/n called, she was the first of them to notice. She walked to meet him, âJoel.â
âJoel?â Ellie echoed, sheâd had yet to witness one of his episodes, âJoel, are you okay?â
âShut up,â he said, verbally waving Ellie off.
âHoly shit, are you dying?â Ellie continued.
Joel shook his head and shut his eyes, trying to block them out, âIâm okay.â
Y/n wasnât so convinced, she laid a firm grip onto Joelâs shoulder. âJoel, câmon.â
âOkay, but are you okay?â Ellie asked again.
âIâm fine,â Joel insisted, wishing desperately that Y/n would remove her hand, but not possessing the strength to shove it off, âIâm fine.â
âNo, no, but are you?â Ellie wouldnât stop, why couldnât she stop? âBecause just a reminder, that if youâre dead, weâre fucked.â
Y/nâs gaze darted to the girl, âEllie-â
That was enough to bring Joel back to Earth.
âI said Iâm fine,â he pushed, contradicting his words with his palm pressed to his chest. âItâs just theâŠcold air all of a sudden.â
Y/n let her hand slide off his shoulder, wholly aware that he was lying. The episodes had been occurring more and more over the last few weeks, they seemed to be getting worse the closer they got to wherever Tommy was or wasnât.
Joel refused to ever tell her what triggered them, hell, he had barely figured it out himself. What he did know was that he couldnât deal with what lay at the core of them all. That would have required an honesty he hadnât possessed in twenty years.
âAll right, uh,â Ellie was the first of the three to bounce back, âSo letâs go find Tommy and the Fireflies. Itâs gonna be easy,â she slid between the fence and called back to them, âAll we have to do is cross the river of death.â
Joel and Y/n were left on their own, the former waiting to catch his breath, the latter waiting on an explanation.
âWould it have killed you to back me up in there?â Joel asked, his usual sour mood replacing the small glimpse of vulnerability.
âYeah,â Y/nâs watched him bury the lsat thirty seconds, denying her an answer once again, ââCause thatâs our biggest problem.â
She slid through the fence after Ellie, leaving Joel to bring up the rear of their group.
The last three months had been trying, but not in the ways Joel and Y/n might have thought at the beginning of their quest. They could only stay silent with each other for so long before they had to talk, and theyâd reached a place where they werenât at each otherâs throats any more. While the snow had frozen the earth, their anger had meltedâŠ
Leaving all the underlying emotions to fill the vacant space.
The physical distance they kept hadnât changed, but the unspoken chasm between them was beginning to cave in on itself. With each passing day, it was growing harder and harder for Joel and Y/n to pretend like they didnât need each other.
In every one of Joelâs attacks, his guilt slammed into him like a tidal wave, threatening to drown the life out of him. So many people heâd let down and when he opened his eyes, he was staring into the face of one of them. One look at Y/n caused everything heâd told himself about her over the years to follow the undertow out to sea.
Y/n, in all her righteous rage, was beginning to do the impossibleâŠshe was starting to understand why Joel had done what heâd done to her. Sheâd spent twenty years cursing his name, a constant boil in her stomach that bubbled whenever she thought of him, but thereâd always been a voice in her head reminding her of the âwhy.â All of Joelâs actions from Outbreak Day on had been driven by a deep pain inside him. That inkling was starting to spread through Y/nâs mind, the dye well on its way to consuming the whole brain.
In a perfect world, theyâd have come to one another, humbly, and talked it through. Instead, they held their grudge, with its dying flame, as the barricade between them, hoping that it sparked once more.
âââââââââ
In the fall, fires had been a luxury, but as winter rolled in, they became necessary to make it through the night.
Y/n and Joel sat on opposite sides of it, Joel adding another layer of duct tape to his boot and Y/n stitching up a busted seam in her leather gloves. It was the apocalypseâs version of domesticities.
Ellie was above them, having scaled a rock to get a good look at the stars. A green glimpse of the Aurora Borealis waved through the midnight blue sky.
Joel whistled for her eventually, âCome down from there. Youâre gonna break your neck.â
Ellie reluctantly returned to the ground, choosing to sit close to Y/n and watch her mend her glove. The two of them had grown closer over the past three months. Joel would never let his guard down wholly for Ellie, but Y/n was more comfortable letting the girl see her as she was.
âAhh,â Ellie said, spotting the flask Joel was taking a swig from, âCan I have some?â
âNo,â Y/n and Joel said in perfect harmony.
âWhat? Just to warm up,â Ellie clarified, âCâmon.â
Joelâs eyes flicked to Y/n, who knew she couldnât hold old world rules to their situation. Her gaze falling back to her handiwork served as Joelâs answer.
Ellie took the flask, made sure to give a little âcheersâ to Joel and took a drink. She grimaced as it ran down her throat, âYep,â she strained, âStill gross.â
Ellie held out the flask to Y/n, who shook her head. The thought of being anywhere near where Joelâs lips had been unsettled her.
âSo Iâve been thinking,â Ellie started after a short stretch of silence, âLetâs say we find the Fireflies, it all works, they draw my blood and put it through some of their fancy machines and make a cure.â
Joelâs brows furrowed in confusion, âOkay.â
âThen what?â Ellie asked, âLike, what do we do?â
âOh, itâs âwe?ââ Joel replied.
âYeah, the end of this partnership comes as soon as we get to the base,â Y/n pointed between herself and Joel.
Ellie nearly rolled her eyes, âOkay, fine. Whatever, you. Separately. You can do anything you want,â she looked to Joel first, âWhere are you going? What are you doing?â
Joel glanced at the sky, to admit his true answer would kill another piece of the remnants of his heart. âItâs never been an option,â he cleared his throat, âMaybeâŠâ
For a split second, he saw it all again. His old house. Tommy in the kitchen, raiding their fridge. Sarah at the table, doing homework.
And Y/n, somewhere in the middle of it all, laughing and looking to Joel with a softness that both uplifted and settled him.
âAn old farmhouse,â he lied, âSome landâŠa ranch.â
Y/n stared down at her needlework, knowing that each word was a lie.
âCool,â Ellie replied, oblivious to the history surrounding her, âWhat kind?â
âSheep,â Joel answered, it was the first animal he could think of, âI would raise sheep.â
âSheep,â Ellie repeated under her breath.
âTheyâre quiet,â Joel continued, his stare falling on Ellie, âDo what theyâre told.â
âYeah, yeah, okay,â Ellie got the hint, âSo just you and a buncha sheep. Romantic. Is thereâŠâ her eyes swung between Joel and Y/n, âRoom for anyone else in the pens with you?â
The assumptions made by strangers that Y/n and Joel were a couple were enjoyable compared to Ellieâs constant attempts to push them together. They were getting more frequent and less subtle.
âI go back to work after this, El,â Y/n said, finishing up her last loop, âDoubtful Iâll be getting back to Boston any time soon, so Iâll probably stay at the camp out here.â
âThatâs not what I asked,â Ellie shook her head, âI asked what you wanted to do. Out of anything, anything in the world.â
Y/n stopped her stitching, staring down at the needle, wondering if she poked herself hard enough, if sheâd be able to draw blood. Would she be able to feel the prick? Or was she just numb enough that physical pain couldnât touch her?
Joel had noticed that Y/n was beginning to slow down more. On the move, she was as fast as ever, but in the quiet moments between, thereâd be times where the world was in motion, and she was perfectly still. It was like she was somewhere deep, deep in her mind, waiting for whatever hold had come over her to break and allow her to return to reality.
Y/n swallowed thickly, her past life flickering before her eyes like a movie montage. Sharing a beer with Tommy while watching a Cowboys game. Painting Sarahâs nails for her with a color the girl had stolen from Y/nâs bathroom. Laying in bed with Joel, deep in the pillows and listening to him sing softly over his guitarâŠ
Her dreams were dead.
âI want to work,â she answered, it wasnât a total lie, âHelp people. If I stop for too longâŠthen what the hell am I doing?â
Joel wished he didnât recognize the underlying sentiment, that if she stopped moving at an inhuman pace, the grief would consume her. But he did, because it was the same way he lived his life.
Y/n clipped the thread with her teeth, beginning to tie a knot, âAnd what about you? What are you gonna do after you save the world?â
Ellie gave a small smile as Y/n nudged her with her shoulder. She turned her gaze to the sky, specifically the very visible moon. âItâs probably because I grew up in the QZ. Behind you, thereâs ocean and ahead of you thereâs a wall,â her smile grew the longer she stared at the stars, âNowhere else to look but up. I read everything I could in the school library. Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, Jim LovellâŠâ Ellie sat forward with enthusiasm, âBut you know who my favorite is?â
âSally Ride,â Joel and Y/n both answered, it wasnât hard to guess.
âSally fuckinâ Ride,â Ellie slapped her knees, enunciating her point, âBest astronaut name ever!â
Whatever levity had come over their campsite faded quickly, Y/n watched as Ellieâs passion turned to soberingâŠgrief? Guilt? She was hard to read sometimes, the innocence of youth and the scars of rushed adulthood creating something entirely new.
âItâll work, right?â Ellie asked, âThe vaccine?â
âItâs a little late to start wonderinâ,â Joel responded, his hands folded over his stomach.
Ellie looked down at her lap, unable to look either Y/n or Joel in the eye. âI triedâŠwith Sam.â
âTried what?â Y/n asked.
âI knew he was infected,â Ellie confessed, âI rubbed some of my blood into his bite. I know,â she hurried, trying to stop Joelâs anxious admonishment before it came, âI know, it was stupid, but IâŠâ she looked back down at her lap, âI wanted to save him.â
Y/n diverted her gaze to the fire, feeling the warmth of it deep in her belly. Not a day had gone by where she hadnât thought about Henry or Sam. It had taken her a full day after their deaths to even be able to speak. The sorrow in Henryâs eyes before pulling the trigger on his own life haunted her. The pain of understanding still lingered in her chest, coming out to play every once in a while and remind her that no matter what she did, no matter how hard she worked to be a good personâŠshe couldnât erase what she had done.
âWell, I reckon itâs a lot more complicated than that,â Joel plainly answered, âMarlene, sheâs a lotta things, butâŠsheâs no fool. If she says they can do it, they can do it.â
Ellie absorbed his answer before turning to Y/n, waiting for her reassurance.
Y/n pulled herself out of her grief, barely quirking the corners of her lips up. âItâll work,â she replied.
Ellie seemed to accept both their responses, letting silence fill the space again until she decided it was time to end her day. âHowâre we splitting up the watches?â
Joel sighed, Y/nâs gaze already waiting for him when he looked up at her.
âWeâll do âem both,â he answered, âGet some sleep. Dream ofâŠâ he capped the flask and exchanged it for his rifle, âSheep ranches on the moon.â
Ellie nodded, grabbing her sleeping bag and walking to the deeper part of their hideout, âI will.â
Y/n fitted her repaired glove back on her hand, tucking them under her armpits for extra warmth. This was the hardest part of each of the day/ When it was just Joel, her and the unmentionable divide between them.
Joel tried to distract himself, gazing up at the moon and focusing on tracing the constellations around it. But the self-discipline he tried so desperately to maintain concerning Y/n was slipping, his eyes using some uncontrollable part of his mind to drift over to her.
Y/n was struggling to keep up her stoic decorum, the urge to let her and Joelâs conversations warm growing stronger and stronger. It was natural in their mutual isolations to wish for someone to talk to. But with him in front of her, the figurehead of the past she wanted so desperately to go back toâŠshe craved a piece of a memory, any memory, that only he could give her. A short hit of dopamine to get her through the next day.
âSo, Tommy,â she began, it was the only part of their past she could safely return to.
âWhat about him?â Joel asked.
âIs heâŠâ Y/n chewed on the inside of her cheek, trying to phrase the question right, âIs he stillâŠTommy?â
Joel sighed, the memories of two decades ago mixing with the last version of his brother heâd seen. âHeâs still a pain in the ass, if thatâs what youâre askinâ.â
Y/n gave a very small smile, âBut heâs still him?â
Whatever she was looking for, Joel couldnât give her. None of them were like theyâd been twenty years ago, except maybe her. She had managed to keep her humanity intact. He was darkness in both their eyes. As rough as heâd been on her at the beginning of their journey, now, he didnât want to shatter her illusion about perhaps the one person left on the planet she loved.
âYeah,â he replied, âHeâs still him.â
Y/n nodded, deciding not to ask anything else and let the moment stay pleasant. âI can take first watch,â she volunteered.
âNo, you go ahead,â Joel shook his head, âIâll wake you up.â
âOkay,â Y/n replied, too tired to fight him. She grabbed her own rifle before unrolling her sleeping bag on her side of the fire, stretching out under it and using her arm as a pillow.
Joel kept his eyes off of her until the even rhythm of her breaths told him she was asleep. Then, and only then, did he let himself watch her, trying to combat the various fears that filled his head. She was there, in front of him, alive and well.
But how long could he keep her like that?
âââââââââ
Even in his sleep, Joel couldnât find rest.
A barrage of images, flashes of colors and echoes of screams, played through his mind. When he startled awake, like every morning past, all he could feel was an overwhelming sense of loss.
The gun was gone.
This was it. His grand failure.
He bolted upright only to find Ellie, a few feet away, standing guard with his rifle.
âStill mumbling in your sleep,â she stated, âI woke up early. You and Y/n,â she glanced over at her still-sleeping guardian, âWere passed out, so I took second watch.â
âYou gotta wake one of us up if that happens,â Joel snapped, quickly getting to his feet and crossing the distance between him and Y/n, âYou canât do things like this.â
âBut I can,â Ellie smiled, ââCause I just did.â
Joel crouched down, shaking Y/nâs arm lightly in an effort not to startle her, âHey.â
All credit to him for trying, Y/n still woke with a gasp. It was her basic programming.
âWeâre fine, weâre fine,â Joel was quick to reassure her as she rolled onto her back.
Y/n scrunched her eyes, blinking the sleep away from them, and sat up. It was daylight. Joel hadnât woken her up for her watch, again.
âMy fault,â he accepted the blame she was getting ready to place on him before continuing his conversation with Ellie, âWeâre responsible for you, okay?â
âThen donât fall asleep,â Ellie challanged, âI was quiet, I checked my six, I looked for tracks, I found the high ground and I kept watch,â she explained as Joel approached her, âLike you taught me to. What can I say, man? Iâm a natural.â
Y/n scoffed as she unzipped her sleeping bag, âAnd youâre not cocky about it at all.â
Joel held out a demanding hand, taking the rifle from Ellie, but accepting that sheâd done the job right. âYou wake us up next time,â he ordered.
âYes, sir,â Ellie replied, smugness evident in her tone and on her face.
Without another word, Y/n and Joel collected the few things theyâd unpacked, smothered what remained of the fire, and the three of them resumed their hike to an unknown destination.
âââââââââ
Even if theyâd have been warned in graphic detail what lay over the River of Death, it wouldnât have changed Joel and Y/nâs minds. The only way to Tommy was to risk their lives crossing, and they did so with very little hesitation.
Ellie, bless her soul, had found plenty of ways to keep herself entertained on the way, including trying to teach herself how to whistle and requesting hunting training. Joel still wouldnât budge on the latter.
âSo, Iâve been thinking,â Ellie started at some point in their hike, âAnd I think I figured out what happened between you two.â
Joel and Y/n tensed up as they walked alongside one another, Ellieâs cleverness worked against them most of the time.
âObviously, you two were a thing way back when in Texas,â she explained, adding a twang to the stateâs name, âAnd then at some point, you guys break up. The âwhyâ was what was tripping me up, until I realized, boomâŠthere was somebody else.â
Y/n forcefully exhaled, wondering whether the theory was more preferable to the truth.
âNow, I canât quite figure out which one of you wouldâve slipped up,â Ellie continued, âBut even if you didnât cheat with them, there was someone who got in between you enough to equal a big fight, throwing things at one another, screaming how much you loved each other and eventually ending with you swearing never to speak again. Which is why you two were ready to kill each other when you met in the QZ.â
Joel was near reaching his boiling point, fighting the pull to spin around to Ellie, wave a finger in her face and explain exactly how the situation had gone down. But the reality of those words finally escaping his lips and taking up space in the world was an unbearable thought.
Y/n was near breaking too, feeling the cracks in her chest begin to spread. She needed off the topic if she was going to be able to take a breath. âWhat the hell kind of stories were you checking out in between astronaut books?â
âWhatever,â Ellie brushed it off, âI know Iâm right.â
Thankfully, she let the subject go as soon as they closed in on an old, out-of-usage dam. The water still gushed through it and into the river.
âDam,â Ellie punned.
âYouâre no Will Livingston,â Joel remarked.
âYeah, yeah, but who is?â Ellie smiled, âSo that made electricity?â
âYeah,â Joel answered, predicting Ellieâs next question, âDonât ask me, I donât have a clue.â
He resumed their walk, Y/n and Ellie trailing behind.
âYou know, you could have just made something up,â Ellie said, âI wouldâve believed you.â
The three of them hiked a half hour more before coming up on another side of the river, or perhaps, an entirely separate one.
âLook at that river,â Ellie remarked, âItâs crazy blue.â
Y/n and Joel were hardly paying attention, both in their own separate thought bubbles. Any time the subject of their past relationship was brought up, it reset the clock on their comfort with each other and took at least an hour to warm back up to one another.
âHey,â Ellie spoke up, âWhat if thisâŠis the River of Death?â
The adults stopped in their tracks, the thought hadnât dawned on them after the victory of crossing the first body of water. Joel whipped out their map, Y/n came to join him and the two of them examined it carefully.
âFuck,â Y/n mumbled under her breath, pressing a hand to her temple.
âWe donât know it yet,â Joel quickly said, walking ahead a few steps to get a better view of their surroundings. Y/n followed closely, with Ellie on their heels.
A noise on the hill above them caught Y/nâs ear, her eyes lifting from the map to see a group of riders coming straight for them.
âJoel,â she shook his arm forcefully, bringing his attention upwards.
At the first glimpse, Joel grabbed Ellieâs free hand, Y/n taking the other, and they bolted for the forest. There were enough riders to circle them in, aiming their rifles at them and cutting off any escape route they could have found. They were fucked.
âGet behind me,â Joel told Ellie and Y/n, only the youngest of the two listened to him. The three of them held their hands up, âWe ainât lookinâ for any trouble, weâre just passinâ through.â
âDrop the guns,â one of the riders ordered.
Slowly, Y/n and Joel slipped their rifles off of their shoulders and placed them on the ground.
âYou,â the same guy nodded to Ellie, âTake five steps back.â
âWe can talk through this,â Y/n said, her voice gained strength the moment Ellie was addressed.
âHow about you shut the fuck up?â
âOkay,â Joel spoke quickly, his hand instinctively flinching towards Y/nâs as she was threatened, âEasy,â he looked behind to Ellie and said with a low voice, âYouâll be okay.â
Ellie backed up reluctantly, her eyes darting between the riders, Y/n and Joel.
âYou been near any Infected?â
âThereâs no Infected out here,â Joel answered the man.
âThe hell there ainât,â the rider replied, whistling immediately after. One of them walked a dog, a German Shepherd, forward. He was barking wildly. âLast chance for a bullet. If youâve been infected, he will smell it, and he will rip you up.â
Y/n and Joelâs blood ran cold.
The dog came forward, sniffing from Joelâs boots up to his torso, and deeming him safe. He went through the same motions with Y/n before walking back to its keeper. Joel and Y/n felt the same hesitant relief, could they really make it out of this?
âLike I said,â Joel said, âWeâll just move on.â
But life wasnât that merciful to them. âNow her,â the rider nodded back to Ellie.
Y/n turned to face the girl, Ellieâs eyes widened with childlike fear. There was nothing Y/n could do to help. The second she raised her pistol, sheâd be dead. Theyâd know they were hiding something and theyâd shoot Ellie too. But if she stayed perfectly still, resting all of her hope on a blind theory, maybeâŠjust maybeâŠ
Joel wasnât thinking hardly as rationally as his ex. His ears began to ring, his heart began to race, all his senses blinding him with terror as the dog approached. He was helpless again, his hands tied behind his back as he watched someone he cared about die a slow, meaningless de-
Ellie giggled.
Y/n huffed a sigh of relief at the sound, her and Joel turning to see the dog licking Ellieâs face. She fell back onto the snow, laughing and scratching the animalâs neck. When she smiled up at them, Joel and Y/n felt the oxygen return to their lungs.
The rider whistled for the dog to return, âYou just bought yourself ten more seconds. What are you doinâ out here?â
It took Joel a few of those seconds to come back to his surroundings, âWeâre just lookinâ for my brother. Thatâs all, nothinâ more.â
âHo!â
The rider to the left of the one threatening them nudged her horse forward, stopping a few feet closer to Joel and Y/n. âWhatâre your names?â
âJoel,â he answered.
âY/n.â
The woman looked them over, her bandana covering all but her eyes. âI can take you to your brother,â she finally said.
Joelâs lips parted in shock, instantly tilting his head to gaze over at Y/n, who wore the same surprise. Tommy was alive.
The woman called back to one of the riders, ordering them to go retrieve the two extra horses theyâd left to graze. They were brought back, saddled and all, and Joel, Y/n and Ellie were directed to get on them.
Y/n jumped on one first, her and Joel both helping Ellie onto the rear of the saddle.
âYou hold on and you donât let go, alright?â Y/n said, wrapping the reins of the bridle around her fist. It had been a long time since sheâd ridden.
âMm-hmm,â Ellie hummed, locking her arms around Y/nâs middle.
Joel promptly mounted his own horse, nudging his them closer to ride alongside Y/n and Ellie.
âLetâs move out,â the woman called to the group.
They rode about fifteen minutes, galloping further west. In the distance, a building could barely be made out. The closer they got, the more Y/n and Joel could tell it was a fort. The party slowed as they approached the gate, two riders getting off their horses to help open it up. Joel and Y/n followed without question, despite having a dozen.
Y/nâs breath caught at the sight inside the walls.
It was a town. A proper fucking town.
Unlike the QZ, the place they were looked whole, kept up. The buildings werenât crumbling, they stood firmly planted in the ground. All around them, people were strolling, not running. Children were screaming in play, not in fear. There were even snowmen lining the outside of one of the storefronts.
Y/n wanted to look back at Joel, to make sure he was seeing it too. She instead kept her eyes forward, scanning over her surroundings in awe.
Joel was entirely confused, but otherwise occupied by checking each and every face they passed to see if it was Tommy. Eventually, the sounds of construction instinctively brought his attention to the side of a building where two men were hard at work. The second silhouette, a tall, thin, dark haired man, didnât require an extra second of examination. Joel knew it was his brother.
âTommy,â he shouted.
Y/n followed Joelâs line of vision and let out a hushed gasp.
Tommy looked up from his work, scanning the group for the familiar voice. His eyes fell on his brother, shock freezing him for a few seconds before he began to climb down the scaling.
Joel slid off his horse, his steps quickening as relief flooded his body. Tommy strode towards him, the two of them meeting in a solid, long overdue, embrace.
Tommy laughed into Joelâs shoulder before pulling back to get a good look at him, âWhat the fuck you doinâ here?â
Joel took a breath, taking in their surroundings, âI came here to save you.â
Tommyâs brows furrowed while Joel exploded into a fit of laughter, the two of them pulling each other back in.
Y/n wound her leg over her horse, dropping to the ground and handing Ellie the reins. She kept her distance as she watched the brothers reunite, a sharp pain running through her chest she hadnât felt in two decades. But when Tommy opened his eyes, gazing over Joelâs shoulder, he straightened up.
Tommy looked between his brother and Y/n, dumbfounded by the sight of them in the same vicinity. He broke away from Joel, walking the distance before matching Y/nâs quickened jog, and lifted the woman into his arms.
As soon as Tommy embraced her, Y/nâs long-held tears began to fall.
âWhat the hell?â Tommy asked, his mouth muffled against Y/nâs coat.
Y/n was too overwhelmed to explain anything.
âI tried,â Tommy rushed out, having held onto those two words for twenty years, âI tried to find you, I couldnât.â
âI know,â Y/n sniffled, âI know.â
Cleared of any wrongdoing in her eyes, Tommy held Y/n a little tighter and pulled her off her feet. She laughed as she cried, digging her face into the denim of Tommyâs jacket.
If Joel had thought he could handle the reunion, heâd been wrong. The sight of his brother and his ex, so thrilled to be in each otherâs presence again, split him. It was the first time in three months heâd seen Y/n genuinely happy, so full of joy she was brought to tears.
Joel could feel his own eyes growing wet.
Tommy set Y/n back on the ground, keeping an arm around her shoulders and looking to Joel. When Y/n and Joelâs gazes met, there was no trying to hide any of what they were feeling. It was a heavy moment, but a joyous one, and they had to sit with it.
âYâall must be starving,â Tommy said, âLetâs head to the mess hall, give us some time to talk.â
The rest of the riders trailed off, leaving Joel, Y/n, Ellie, Tommy and the dark skinned woman who had led brought them there. Y/n and Joel remained on foot with Tommy, though Y/n kept a hand on Ellieâs reins all the way to the mess hall.
Inside, the woman Tommy introduced as Maria, made special effort to get Joel, Ellie and Y/n hot plates of food. Weeks of mostly rabbit had them shoveling their meals into their mouths, none of them even asked what theyâd been served.
âThereâs more if you need it,â Maria offered, her and Tommy sitting across from the threesome.
Joel looked up from his plate, âThank you, maâam. Itâs been a while since weâve had a proper meal.â
âActually, I donât think Iâve ever had a proper meal,â Ellie interjected in between bites, âThis is fuckinâ amazing.â
Y/n took her eyes off her plate to shoot Ellie a raised eyebrow.
Joelâs southern upbringing turned him white with shock, he quickly looked up to Maria. âSorry. Ellie, letâs mind our manners.â
Tommy smiled at his brother, it all sounded very familiarâŠ
Ellie looked across the room, spotting a girl watching her from behind a wooden beam. She glared back at her curious stare, âWhat?â
Y/n pressed a finger to her temple, âEllieâŠâ
âWhatâs wrong with you?â Joel asked.
âWhat about her manners?â Ellie replied.
âShe was just curious,â Maria cut in, âKids around here donât usually look or talk like you.â
âRightâŠâ Ellie was unimpressed, âWellâŠmaybe Iâll teach them. And I want my gun back.â
âThey also arenât armed,â Marie replied, the group had been forced to check their guns at the front door.
âYou know what?â Tommy jumped in, âUh, I think maybe yâall got a little off on the wrong foot.â
Ellie gestured to the woman, âShe was gonna have her guys kill us.â
âWell, we gotta be real careful about who we let into this place,â Tommy explained, âBut itâs all bark. Weâre just tryna scare off those who might wanna try us is all.â
âWell,â Ellie returned to her plate, âYouâve got a couple of 90-year olds shitting themselves out there.â
Joel and Y/nâs heads turned at the same time, âEllie.â
âThey say that you leave dead bodies laying around?â Ellie continued her tirade.
âThose are the people that tried us,â Maria said.
âA bad reputation doesnât mean youâre bad,â Tommy stated.
âNot always at least,â Maria added, staring right at Joel.
The tension at the table was palpable, Joel, Y/n and Ellie all wating for Mariaâs glare to soften. That wasnât going to happen.
âMaâam,â Joelâs voice firmed up, while still retaining its southern pleasantness, âWeâre grateful for your hospitality and all,â he looked expectantly to Tommy, âBut itâd be nice to have a moment here, maybe just for family.â
Family, and whatever Y/n and Ellie were.
Tommy was half holding his breath as he leaned forward, âWell, um,â he took his wifeâs hand, âMaria is family, actually.â
Y/n nearly had the wind knocked out of her, thankful she didnât have a piece of food in her mouth.
âOh, shit!â Ellie put together the pieces, âCongrats.â
Joel couldnât take his eyes off of their clasped palms, painfully transfixed by the bands around their fourth fingers.
âYeah,â Y/n added, quickly trying to adjust to the idea of Tommy as a husband, âCongratulations.â
âJoel,â Ellie lowered her voice, âSay congrats.â
It was going to take a hell of a lot more time for Joel to absorb the news. âCongrats,â he attempted.
It wasnât that it was awkward, it was that the ever present dagger in Joelâs heart suddenly twisted.
âWell, how âbout a tour?â Tommy suggested, eager to exchange the tension for some fresh air.
âGreat idea,â Y/n replied, wiping her mouth off and rising before anyone else. There was a pit of anxiety slowly and steadily building in her stomach and she needed to walk it off.
They were quick to find out that the heart of the town looked even nicer than the edge.
âWe settled here about seven years ago,â Maria told the group, âJust a handful of us back then,â she pointed down the middle of the town, âThat section was already a gated community, so we built the rest of the wall out from there. Stopped most of the raiding parties, but we still find pockets of them.â
Joel, Y/n and Ellie stayed in a horizontal line behind Maria and Tommy, the foreign environment causing them to want to stick closer together. Unwittingly, Ellie was once again being made the barrier between Joel and Y/n.
âAnd you said Infected?â Joel asked.
âYeah, but usually smaller colonies,â Tommy answered, âWandered off from the cities. All this open country out hereâŠâ he looked back to his brother, âItâs a turkey shoot. I still got my 700, but I found a variable power scope. Sub-MOA. Can headshot those fuckers from a half-mile out.â
Ellieâs ears perked up, âCan you teach me how?â
âNo, he canât,â Joel was quick to shoot down the idea.
âHow do you keep off the radar?â Y/n asked, âI mean, using all these resources, how has FEDRA not tracked you guys down?â
âCarefully,â Maria answered, âBeing in the middle of nowhere helps. Not advertising what we have, staying off the radio.â
Tommy snuck a look to Joel, who had come up alongside him. There was the answer heâd been waiting three months for.
âHouse of worship,â Maria continued to talk through the buildings, âMultifaith. School. Laundry. Old bank works as the jail, not that weâve needed it.â
Joelâs eyes drew upwards to the electrical lines, âAnd you draw power from the dam?â
âGot that workinâ a couple years ago,â Maria answered, âAfter that, sewage, plumbing, water heatersâŠlights.â
âThis place actually fuckinâ works,â Ellie remarked as she walked, leaving Joel and Y/n behind.
If Y/n thought sheâd gotten a taste of normality back at Bill and Frankâs house, this felt like some sort of starvation induced hallucination. Except there was food in her belly and ice cold air in her lungs, it was all real.
Tommy and Maria led them towards the agricultural section of town, rows of greenhouses and animal pens lining their way.
âHey, Joel, look,â Ellie pointed to the heard of sheep ahead of them, âBaaah,â she laughed before turning to Maria, âSo are you, like, in charge?â
âNo one personâs in charge,â Maria responded, âIâm on the council, democratically elected, serving 300 people, including children. Everyone pitches in. We rotate patrols, food prep, repairs, hunting, harvesting.â
âEverything you see in our town,â Tommy gestured around them, âGreenhouses, livestock, all shared. Collective ownership.â
âSo, uh,â Joel figured, âCommunism.â
Tommy was quick to scoff, âNah. Nah, it ainât like that.â
âIt is that, literally,â Maria turned to her husband, âThis is a commune. Weâre communists.â
Tommy stopped short as the realization hit him, Joel and Y/n trailing behind purely to watch his full reaction.
âEasy there, soldier,â Y/n smirked, patting him on the shoulder while Joel matched her expression.
Rejoining Maria and Ellie, where Ellie was petting one of the horses poking their heads out of the stables, Maria changed subjects.
âWell, Iâm sure theyâd like a shower, some new clothes,â she addressed Tommy, âWe can put them in the empty house across the street from us.â
âYeah,â Tommy nodded, looking to Joel and Y/n, âItâs a decent place. Pretty much untouched since â03, but itâs the heat goinâ in it. Could do worse.â
âOh, trust me,â Ellie spoke up, âWe have been.â
âWeâve been doinâ fine,â Joel defended them, nervously rubbing his hands together. He needed to talk to his brother, just them.
Y/n was absentmindedly tapping her foot, matching Joelâs energy. The town itself was lovely, and Joel was bearable, but there was something about the combination of the two that was making her feel uneasy.
âWell,â Maria picked up on the mood, âIâll take Ellie over there if you three wanna catch up?â
âUh,â Y/n raised her hand quickly, âIâd actually love to join you.â
Tommy started to speak up, he was more than curious as to how Y/n and Joel had reunited. One look at the readiness in Joelâs eyes to be without her ceased his tongue from moving.
Ellie, however, had started to require both Joel and Y/nâs presence with her. Without one, she was restless. âJoelâŠâ
âYouâll be fine,â Joel reassured her as he and Tommy walked off. He managed not to seek out Y/nâs eyes, it felt like the first time in days heâd had any control.
Y/n expected that parting from Joel would give her instant relief, but even when Maria led her and Ellie to their lodging, it didnât come. In fact, the more distance they put between each other, the deeper Y/n could feel the anxiety within her. She was miserable with him and unsettled without him.
The house Maria assigned them was lovely, modest yet welcoming. Y/n nearly felt her heart break walking in, feeling the warmth of the air flood her body. It was like stepping back in time, a piece of seemingly meaningless history preserved perfectly.
âIâll leave some clothes on the bed for you,â Maria told Ellie, pointing up the stairs, âFirst door on the left. There should be a towel and soap already there.â
Ellie looked expectantly to Y/n.
âIâve got a few things to grab over at my place,â Maria said, âMaybe Y/n could help me?â
âGo,â Y/n nodded to the girl, âIâll be back.â
Ellie filed upstairs, leaving Y/n and Maria to themselves. Maria made sure to lock the door on her way out, handing Y/n the key after.
âThereâs only one, so donât lose it,â she noted, leading Y/n across the street to her and Tommyâs house. The house felt much the same as the other one did, a few differences in designs, but nothing spectacular.
Maria began to rifle through a closet near the downstairs bathroom while Y/n meandered through the living room.
âYâknow, Tommy told me about you,â Maria called from across the room, âIâve only heard your name once or twice. Every other time, he just referred to you as Rosebud.â
The nickname sent a sickening pain through Y/nâs stomach. âOh, yeah,â she tried to play it off nonchalantly, âHe gave me that nickname the night I met him andâŠâ
âJoel?â Maria finished, popping her head out to try and get a read on Y/nâs reaction. She had a lot of feelings regarding her husbandâs brother.
All Y/n felt capable of doing was nodding, blindly feeling around for the chair closest to her. She wandered the room, her eyes drifting to the fireplace before scanning her way up and-
Her heart stopped.
Sat on the mantle was a chalkboard, two names and two dates written across it.
Kevin - 4/3/00 - 9/29/03
Sarah - 7/20/89 - 9/27/03
Negative emotions always tended to stay right below the surface, regardless of the cliches about burying them. They were easily accessible under the right conditions, and if the wound was deep enough, it didnât take much to trigger them. Y/n was already on the edge, teetering between holding onto the last bit of anger that had fueled her the past twenty years and collapsing under the weight of her grief.
Sarahâs name decided her fate.
And she crumbled.
âââââââââ
âThose things I did, Tommy, those things you judge me forâŠI did those things to keep us alive.â
âWe did those things,â Tommy pushed back, âAnd they werenât âthingsâ,â we murdered people. And I donât judge you for it, we survived the only way we knew howâŠbut there were other ways. We just werenât any good at âem,â he paused, preparing himself for Joelâs reaction, âBut I do judge you for what you did to Y/n.â
Joel sighed, he couldnât take it. He physically could not handle discussing that day with Tommy.
âJoel, you l-â
âI know what I did,â Joelâs voice rose, he held up a hand more to calm himself than anything else.
âAnd now, twenty years later, here she is,â Tommy gestured to the door as if Y/n was right outside, âDo you even know where sheâs been? What sheâs been through? âCause I donât! And Iâd have liked to know.â
Joelâs anxiety was beginning to bubble in his stomach, the vines climbing up his throat, ready to choke the life out of him.
âHave the two of you even talked about it?â Tommy asked calmly, his own emotions on the verge of showing.
Joel gripped the bar counter so hard, he thought he might snap the wood. He rolled the cold glass in his palm, trying to hold onto anything he could, as if it could save him from being sucked back into the vortex that was the pastâŠ
âââââââââ
September 28th, 2003. Austin, Texas.
Cordyceps.
It was the only word people were capable of saying.
Cordyceps.
One little strand of fungi had taken out the entire world.
Joel, Y/n and Tommy ended up quarantined at a triage clinic. It was deemed one of the only âsafe zonesâ for non-infected citizens. Dozens and dozens of people, crammed into a tiny building, practically sleeping on one another.
Joel had yet to string more than two words together since Sarahâs death. He was nearly unreachable. It was tragic enough for a parent to lose a child, it was another thing to cradle your daughter as she bleeds out in your arms.
Y/n felt like she was moving through cement, unable to fully comprehend what was going on around them. Her grief was overwhelming her, leaving her no more than twenty minute interludes between fits of wailing. But with Joel completely decommissioned, she was forced to rise to the occasion and take charge of their situation.
She returned from another attempt to reach her parentâs house, her cell phone getting no reception. Sheâd also tried the pay phone and Joel and Tommyâs phones. Nothing.
Y/n settled beside Joel in their corner of their hallway, it was nearly empty on account of it being the middle of the day. Most people took their walks around then. Tommy had volunteered to go out on patrol with a couple other veterans that were there.
âI still canât get through,â Y/n started, hugging her knees to her chest, âTried my parents, Annie, JasonâŠâ she thought of her siblings, âNothing.â
Joel didnât even acknowledge her presence, he just kept staring down the hall.
âI have to get up there, Joel,â Y/n finally said, the thought had been keeping her awake all night, âI have to find them, make sure theyâre okay.â
Many people assume that grief is but one emotion; sorrow. A deep sea of pain that you are thrown into without a floatiation device. But those who have never experienced it know not of the vastness of grief. There is anger, there is frustration, there is betrayal, there is jealousyâŠall of which can change you into an entirely different person.
And Joel was slipping away by the second.
âJoel, I have to go,â Y/n spelled it out in simpler terms for him.
Nothing.
âAnd I canât go aloneâŠâ Y/n continued, worried that he had completely shut down. She rolled onto her knees, taking one of Joelâs cheek into her palm, âJoel, I need you.â
Joel stared forward, motionless.
Y/n was flying blind, unsure of how much was too much talking or how little she was supposed to be acknowledging Sarahâs death. But the world was, quite literally, falling apart. She couldnât navigate the wreckage on her own.
âJoel,â she whispered, âI know it hurts-â
âDonât,â Joel turned to her, the speed of it causing Y/n to pull her hand back, âDonât.â
Y/nâs eyebrows came down in confusion, âDonât what?â
âDonât you act like you know what Iâm feelinâ,â he snapped, tears filling his eyes.
Of all the reactions, Y/n couldnât have ever predicted this one.
âJoel, I was there too,â she replied, keeping her tone gentle, âI was-â
Joel pointed his finger at Y/n, their faces inches apart. âIâm her father,â he gritted through his teeth, âYou were a bystander. They are not the same.â
Y/n inched back, bracing her body with her hands. Heâd never so much as raised his voice at her.
As much as she wanted to let him grieve, she couldnât let him descend into hostility. She wasnât sure if her tactic would hurt him further or allow him to see the truth, but she couldnât hold it in any longer.
âJoelâŠâ she began, he was back staring numbly at the wall again. Y/n drew a shaky breath, the memory was so fresh in her mind, she could still hear Sarahâs voice. âShe called me mom.â
If there was one thing about Joelâs reaction to his daughterâs death, it was the sheer delirium it threw his brain into. Much like Cordyceps, it was ripping through every cell of his body, changing the fundamentals of every inch. Whatever reaction he may have had to the news of Sarahâs decision had been poisoned by what he was allowing her loss to do to him.
He locked his hands together, gripping them so hard his knuckles turned white. Shutting his eyes, he let his head drop between his arms and took a shallow breath. âNo, she didnât.â
Y/n was afraid his mind was slipping away from her. âJoel, she did,â she continued, trying to push past the lump in her throat, âI went upstairs to bed a-and she called out for me.â
âShe didnât,â Joel repeated, his hands practically shaking with rage.
âJoel,â Y/n began, reaching up to touch his arm.
âNO!â
Joel jumped to his feet, his shout echoing in the empty room. Heâd scared Y/n enough for her to fall back against the wall.
âShe didnât fuckinâ say it,â Joel aimed his finger at his girlfriend again, âYou werenât her damn mother.â
Y/n stared up at him with tears in her eyes.
âDoesnât matter if you wanted to be,â Joel kept going, âDoesnât matter if you tried. You werenât. You were some fuckinâ woman livinâ in her house.â
Y/n got to her feet, trying ever so hard to be patient with Joelâs grief. But she wasnât going to allow him to take her last normal moment sheâd had with Sarah away from her.
âYou werenât there,â she argued back, âIt happened, whether or not you want to believe it,â Y/n pointed a finger at her own chest, âShe chose me.â
âYouâre fuckinâ lyinâ,â Joel growled, spinning away from Y/n and putting his hands to his hips. He couldnât look at her.
Y/n was entirely lost, praying that Tommy returned soon. She couldnât manage Joel in this state on her own.
Joel couldnât see straight, let alone think straight. Only one thing seemed to ring true in his mind; Y/n was lying. She was a liar. She was lying about his dead daughter. What kind of monster would lie about a dead child?
Like a snowball rolling down a mountain, Joelâs delirious realization began to make sense, leaving him with only one course of action.
âIâm done.â
Y/n could barely register the sudden shift, from anger to calm. âWhat?â
Joel turned back to her, sweeping his hand through the air, âIâm done. Weâre done.â
The air thickened suddenly, the stakes of his statement as important as the next breath Y/n drew.
âJoel-â
âNo,â he shook his head quickly, âThis is over. Iâm not gonna stay with you when youâre lyinâ about my child-â
Y/n took an urgent step forward, reaching out for his arm, âJoel-â
âYou donât get to try and make yourself feel better about her now that sheâs g-â Joel choked on the word, flipping back to grief for a mere second, âOh, GodâŠâ
Y/n was on the verge of panic, he was completely out of his mind. âJoel,â she urged, âDonât do this. Take a breath and-â
Just like that, he was engorged in rage again. âDonât. Donât fuckinâ touch me, donât even fuckinâ look at me.â
âJoel,â Y/n cried, her tears streaming down her face, âI love you. Iâm here and I love you.â
Through the haze of insanity, Joel could feel her words. They wrapped around him, cradling him close to the warmth of her chest. He could almost feel something again, something pure and safeâŠit nearly pulled him back to shore.
Nearly.
Joel crossed the space between them, lowering his voice to a growl, âWell, I donât love you.â
If there was an exact moment to point to as to when Y/nâs heart shattered, it was then. The force of Sarahâs death weighed so heavily on her chest, she was convinced she was in the midst of a heart attack. But when two tragedies occurred, so close together, it was always the second one that broke a person beyond repair. The second is unexpected, pushing you into a new level of grief you didnât think you could feel. That was the one that could drive you to madness.
Snot and tears mixing across her lips, Y/n shook her head. âYou donât mean that,â she mumbled.
âI do,â Joel replied, his voice so full of confidence, âYouâre a fuckinâ liar.â
Y/n felt like she was drowning, kicking and flailing under the waters, trying to find some way to make Joel believe her. To pull him out of his delusions.
The two lovers stood in the hall of the clinic, squaring off in a battle neither one of them knew how to fight. Their heartbreak was manifesting in completely opposite ways.
Scanning her face once more, to remember in the years to come, Joel turned on his heel and walked away from Y/n.
âW-wait,â she trembled, quickly following after him, âWhere are you going?â
âTo find Tommy,â Joel said, his fists curled at his sides as he marched through the clinic.
âJoel, stop,â Y/n begged, trying to keep up with his pace, âJoel!â
Joel made his way outside, where the clinic was still accepting injured civilians. All around them was tragedy, while one was unfolding between them.
âJoel,â Y/n called again, six feet behind him, the grief in her bones slowing her down, âJoel, you canât go out there. Tommy said-â
âDonât tell me what my own brother said,â Joel practically shouted, refusing to look back at her. He needed a quick escape.
Scanning the makeshift parking lot around them, he spotted an F1-50. He stalked towards it as if it were prey.
âJoel,â Y/n called in between her sobs, she was more terrified for him than anything else.
Once he got to the truckâs door, Joel slammed his fist without hesitation through the glass window.
âJoel!â Y/n cried, watching the blood begin to trickle down his knuckles.
Joel reached through the shattered window, felt around for the lock/unlock button on the door and clicked it. He threw the door open and got inside, the glass on the seat cutting through his jeans and into his thighs.
Y/n surged forward, Joelâs absolute insanity was becoming real. He was actually leaving her. She took hold of the door handle, âJoel, donât. Donât,â she hyperventilated, âI canât do this without you. I canât. I canât.â
Her pleas began to crack the ice around his heart, just enough for him to allow another gust of icy wind through his chest. He became indifferent to her cries.
Joel slammed the door shut, the force of it pulling Y/n forward.
âJoel, donât do this,â she sobbed, clinging to the side of the truck, âI love you. I love you. We can get through this. We can get through this.â
Joel felt around for the keys, finding them conveniently left in the ignition. He switched the truck on.
Y/nâs chest heaved, her window for reasoning with him closing. âNo, Joel. Donât do this! I love you, please, donât do this.â
Joelâs body trembled, some sane part of him knowing that was he was doing was inhumane. But griefâs noose tightened around his throat, reminding him that the sicker state of mind was where he belonged now. His heart was nothing more than a liability now.
He pressed down on the gas pedal.
âNo,â Y/n yelled as the truck shifted, she was practically tripping in the dirt trying to move with it, âJoel, donât! Donât do this to me! Please! Donât do this to me!â
Joel ignored her cries, turning the truck towards the open road.
âDonât do this,â Y/n shouted, her voice straining and fluctuating with her tears. If he didnât stop soon, she wouldnât be able to keep up with the truck. âJoel!â
The final cry did it, Joel couldnât handle any more. He pressed down further on the pedal, jolting the truck forward.
Y/n was able to catch one last look at him, a final glimpse at the man she loved with her whole heart, leaving her as if she was nothing more than a dead body already. When her hand slipped from the truck, Joel having sped up to escape her, she knew he was forever lost to her.
She stopped running, screaming into the cloud of dirt heâd left, âJOEL!â
Y/n watched him steer the truck out of the clinicâs lot, pulling onto the dirt alongside the road and driving off. Her wet eyes followed the blur until it was completley out of sight.
That was when she fell apart.
She dropped to the ground, screeching like a wounded animal, clutching the ground underneath her fingers. She screamed loud enough for a clinic staff member to rush out, reaching out to help her. Y/n wrenched out of their loving grip, shrieking for them not to touch her. She didnât want their oxygen masks, their sedatives or their counseling.
Sarah was gone. Joel had abandoned her. If this was death coming to collect her, she would go willingly into its embrace.
âââââââââ
December 2023. Jackson, Wyoming.
Y/n dropped to her knees in the middle of Maria and Tommyâs living room, clutching her stomach.
âI think I found everything,â Maria announced, walking out from the closet and spotting Y/n. She rushed across the room, kneeling down beside her.
Silent sobs turned to violent ones, shaking Y/nâs body with a force she hadnât felt in twenty years. Unlike that fateful day, Y/n allowed Mariaâs caring arms to wrap around her as she wept.
âIâm sorry,â the kind woman said, pressing close to Y/nâs ear.
There was nothing anyone could say to put any of the pieces back together. Every part of Y/nâs grief over Sarahâs death, Joelâs abandonment, the choices sheâd had to make after she was left on her ownâŠit was all coming to the surface after three months of repression. The physicality of her sobs exhausted her less than the act of holding herself together in front of Ellie and Joel.
Five minutes or a half hour, Y/n wasnât sure how long she spent on the floor, Maria cradling her as if she were a child. At some point, the tears stopped and she was once again aware of her surroundings.
âTommy told me all about you,â Maria said, still holding Y/n, âAbout your family. How good you were with Sarah.â
Y/n sniffled, fighting the urge to gaze back up at the girlâs chalk-written name. It would only send her back into tears.
âIt doesnât matter what happened between you and Joel,â Maria continued, clearly she knew a lot more than perhaps she should have, âYou helped raise that girl. Far as Iâm concerned, you should feel a motherâs grief.â
A mumbled cry bubbled from Y/nâs lips. Every day she felt the loss of Sarah like that of a lost limb, the phantom pain constantly pulling at her body.
âââââââââ
âIâm gonna be a father.â
Tommyâs words paralyzed Joel, he physically lost the sensation of his heartbeat, his breathâŠit all stopped, allowing grief and bitterness to fill the hollowness within him.
âTo be honest, Iâm scared to death,â Tommy lifted his glass to his lips, âBut I donât know, uhâŠâ he smiled, âI feel like Iâd be a good dad.â
Joel wanted to scream, he wanted to punch a hole through the fucking wall to counter the pain of the universeâs cruel slap.
âGuess weâll find out,â he replied, reaching for the bottle of whiskey and refilling his glass.
ââI guess weâll find out?ââ Tommy repeated, practically indignant as he looked to his big brother, âThatâs all you got?â
Joel settled against the bar, keeping a firm stare on Tommy, âWhat else am I supposed to say?â
Tommy got to his feet, exhausted by bearing the brunt of Joelâs grief. âJust because life stopped for you,â he said, âDoesnât mean it has to stop for me.â
Much like after losing Sarah, Joel was acting purely on emotion. The world had ripped away everything from him, and here Tommy was, with everything heâd almost had.
âWeâll grab some supplies and be out of your hair in the morninâ,â Joel bit out, turning from his brother and grabbing his jacket. He burst outside into the cold air.
âââââââââ
âI, uh,â Y/n sniffled, trying to collect herself, âI should get back to Ellie.â
âDonât worry,â Maria said softly, âIâll take care of her. You take a moment to yourself.â
Y/n practically scoffed at the idea, she hadnât had a second to herself in three months. But the tension within her was so great, she didnât have the will to fight Maria on the offer.
âThank you,â she laid a hand on Mariaâs arm, letting the woman help her to her feet.
Y/n stumbled out into the cold, trying to absorb the sound of the childrenâs playful screams, the crunch of the snow under her boots, the feel of her breath slamming back into her face each time she exhaledâŠsheâd had anxiety attacks before. Taking stock of your surroundings was supposed to help.
Except she was too far gone for coping strategies, she needed alcohol and she needed someone to talk to. Someone who understood.
On their way in, Maria had led them past a bar, and Y/n felt like a bloodhound, tracing her way back through the crowds to find it. The world may have changed, but she knew sheâd find exactly who she needed at the counter with a thing of whiskey in his handâŠ
âââââââââ
Joel stumbled out into the snow, leaning up against a metal lightpost. His breath was catching, his heart pounding out of his chest, the tinnitus flooding his ears once againâŠ
Once upon a time, Tommyâs life had been his. Heâd had his daughter, so bright and beautiful. A home that theyâd made their own, despite the wounds that had led them there. And Y/n, his Y/n, the missing piece of his and Sarahâs life, a ring nearly on her fingerâŠ
And as much as he wanted to blame Cordyceps for losing all of it, he was hardly faultless.
Heâd had twenty years of guilt soaked isolation, trying to convince himself that what his grief riddled self had thought was truth. Y/n had to have lied for him to continue on with life, because he couldnât face the alternate. He couldnât believe that he had abandoned her for no good reasonâŠ
It was a conclusion heâd come to weeks ago, the more time he spent with her reminding her of who she really was.
Across the way, there were families gathered around the Christmas tree. Joelâs eyes mindlessly drifted over them, catching on one womanâs silhouette. Her head of curls, the weightlessness of her voiceâŠin his panicked state, it was Sarah.
He took clunky steps forward, chasing the illusion that his daughter was standing in front of him. He wanted, needed to believe it to be true. There had been some terrible mistake, theyâd abandoned her body too soon and by the grace of God, she was-
A small child ran up to the woman, revealing her true face.
Joel stopped, his heartbreak pulling him back to reality. This was how far his mind could take him under the worst circumstances. He was convincing himself that his daughter was still alive and twenty years prior, heâd convinced himself that the love of his life was a liar.
It was grief that stood every chance at breaking him.
âââââââââ
Y/n crossed through the middle of town, spotting the Christmas tree and the surrounding crowd singing and chattering around it. She couldnât handle the sight, ducking into the bar as quick as she could.
Tommy turned around, glaring at the door, ready to rip into Joel further. âOh,â he muttered, putting away his anger at the sight of Y/n, âThought you were Joel.â
âIâm thankful youâre not,â Y/n remarked, walking to the counter and spotting the open whiskey bottle. He was everywhere she looked.
She reached over the counter and grabbed a glass, filling it a little over halfway, âYou two not getting along?â
Tommy sighed, rolling his glass in his palm. âComplicated,â he answered, âBut Iâm preachinâ to the choir, arenât I?â
Y/n bristled, lifting the glass to her lips and letting the burn of her throat force her into feeling something.
âMariaâs pregnant,â Tommy blurted out.
Y/nâs arm fell to the bar, the glass hitting it hard. To say she was shocked would have been a gross understatement.
Tommy smiled up at her, âThat so hard to believe?â
âWell, you gotta cut me a little slack here,â Y/n replied, dazed, âThe last time I knew you, there was a new girl every week. I was kinda half-convinced you already had a kid.â
Tommy chuckled, heâd missed her so much. He considered Y/n another loss from Cordyceps, though it chose his brotherâs grief as its medium.
âIâŠâ Y/n pulled out the barstool next to him and sat down, her mouth still agape, âHow do you feel about it?â
âGood,â he nodded, âI think. Mariaâs already been a mom before, butâŠI really do think I could be a good dad.â
Y/n rested her hand on Tommyâs wrist, drawing his eyes to her. âYouâll make a great dad,â she said, proud and with a smile. It was the first good look at him sheâd gotten. Though he sported a few more wrinkles and scars, a mustache now hanging over his upper lip, his eyes still held the same sparkle.
Tommy beamed back at her, laying his hand over hers. The warmth shared between siblings still flowed between them.
âSo thatâs whyâŠâ Y/n glanced at the door, absentmindedly pointing outside.
âYep,â Tommy turned back to his whiskey.
âOh,â Y/n murmured, so caught up in the beauty of the news that she hadnât thought about how Joel might have reacted.
âCan I ask you somethinâ?â Tommy asked.
Y/n shook her head with a small smirk, âCâmon, itâs been twenty years but you donât have to be formal.â
It wasnât formality, it was handling gasoline near a wildfire.
âHow the hell are you two doinâ this?â Tommy asked, setting down his glass to give the topic his full attention.
In her anxious state, Y/n hadnât stopped to think that Tommy would bring up the very thing she was running from.
âThere wereâŠâ Y/n cleared her throat, âA lot of threats the first few days. Lots of hate. Mostly from me. But we had toâŠcome to some sort of truce if we were going to get through this.â
âJoel told me youâre with the kid,â Tommy cut in, âSheâs not yours?â
Y/n snorted, âNo. But sheâsâŠâ she paused, unprepared to unpack what Ellie meant to her, âShe wasnât going with Joel unless I came with. So really, sheâs to blame for all this.â
Tommy chuckled, taking a quick sip before repeating the same question heâd asked Joel, âYou two talked about what happened yet?â
Y/n shrugged, feeling the weight of twenty years in her shoulders, âWhatâs there to talk about?â
âI think thereâs everything to fuckinâ talk about,â Tommy replied.
The seat was suddenly digging into her thighs and there were electric currents in her legs. Y/n slid off the barstool, trying to take slow steps around the bar counter to deescalate her bodyâs nervous energy.
âHow long did it take him to tell you what happened?â Y/n asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
âAh, the full story?â Tommy said, shaking his head slightly, âAll I heard when I got back from patrol was you two had broken up. I finally got it all pieced together after about two years. Gave him hell for it too.â
Y/nâs smile was filled with frustration, she threw back the last of her whiskey.
âI looked for you,â Tommy said, reiterating what heâd said at the gate, âI mean, I combed every fuckinâ inch of that place tryinâ to find you. I wasnât gonna leave you.â
âI know,â Y/n replied, slipping behind the counter to pour herself another glass, âI figured that out at some point. That you wouldnât have gone along with thatâŠâ
Tommy watched Y/nâs face carefully, a new emotion covering the expanse every few seconds.
âYou donât actually believe what he said, do you?â
Y/n poured a shot of a random liquor, âWhy shouldnât I believe him?â
âCâmon,â Tommy turned to her, âHe was out of his mind with grief, we all were. He wasnât thinkinâ straight.â
âIâm sorry,â Y/n raised a hand to her head, âAre you defending him?â
âHell no,â Tommy gave a firm shake of his head, âIâm tryinâ to make you understand that he lied. He was lying. He didnât stop lovinâ you, he-â
âStop,â Y/n forcefully set the bottle down on the counter, some of it spilling out the top, âStop. I donât want to hear it.â
Tommy settled down in his seat, unaware heâd lifted off it while talking.
âYou have no idea what I went through after he left,â Y/n struggled, her voice threatening to cease up, âWhat I had to doâŠâ she sniffled, unable to hide the tears, âAnd then he came back. He fucking came back, and I havenât been able to escape him for three months.â
Staying silent and still, Tommy allowed her the space to purge everything out of her system.
âAnd now weâre here,â Y/n gestured around them, her voice growing watery, âAnd itâs so fucking beautiful, I could cry. Look at me, I am,â she paused, squirming under the pressure of the sob building within her, âAnd itâs killing me. Itâs killing me. To be here, to see you, to see all thatâŠâ
Y/n ran a hand through her hair, leaning against the counter. All that they could have had.
âI canât,â Y/n held up a shaking hand, âI canâtâŠbe near him right now. Because all I see is her, is usâŠand itâs fucking breaking me.â
Tommy looked down at his glass, wondering whether or not he was about to push too far. âThat doesnât sound like hate to me.â
Y/nâs bottom lip trembled, she knew exactly what it was. And sheâd have rather died than admit it.
âWell, it needs to be,â she whispered.
ââââââ
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Special Edition Chapter:
Where does Heartbreak get Stored if Not in your Quantum Drive? (Loki X Reader)
đA High Moon Story
(Donât forget to enjoy the new art included as a bonus!)
Okay, so this is entirely out of order, but the sentiment felt suitable for Valentine's Day. High Moon chapters will be back soon and in logical progression!
Although I hope this gives you an idea of where the plot will go. Thank you so much for hanging in here with me!
This is lovingly inspired by and created for @muddyorbsblr and their 14 days Valentineâs Day collection!
(This is mostly tame, with a little angsty heat đ„)
Maybe these folks might reading?
@lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @goblingirlsarah @vickie5446 @peaches1958 @lokixryss @eleniblue @simplyholll @sarahscribblesles @sarawr-reads @jennyggggrr @ijuststareatstuffhereok89eok89 @mischief2sarawr @fictive-sl0th @thomase1 @inthesofa @huntress-artemisss @michelleleewise @gigglingtigger @kikster606 @xorpsbane @skymoonandstardust @coldnique @mochie85
+Please let me know if youâd like to be tagged if Iâve forgotten you (my ADHD is for shit with tags!!)
âAnd how should we behave during this Apocalypse? We should be unusually kind to one another, certainly. But we should also stop being so serious. Jokes help a lot. And get a dog if you donât already have one.â
-Kurt Vonnegut-The Idea Killers, 1984
Former: Big Sur, California
Current: Sechanaha
He had found you. Maybe not you exactly, but the replicant living out your lifeâs work in a pocket of time he finally found the correct coordinates to. If you didnât have the answers, then Loki couldnât imagine anyone else would.
You were the reason after all he was suspended in this quantum emotion enabled semi-alive-semi-dead-memory of his former majestic, fantastic superiorly intelligent true-ruler-of-the-nine realms self. You could end his misery, you could âpull the plugâ or perhaps, it was more like âsend the fileâ (old human terms from the era the AI technology was invented). You could help him finally reach Valhalla. While Thor and Odin were never his favorites (or so his quantum memory told him) with all he was, he knew he belonged there with them.
As Loki walked closer to your home, his CPU field read through the history of âEl Grande Surâ which became âBig Surâ. At some point, the Esalen bots changed it back to the name it had 1,000âs of years before the many shades of âwhite visitorsâ with their re-naming ways got ahold of it- âSechanahaâ would be its last and final name. He pondered the way a land was taken over by humans and renamed, owned and seemingly a new course set in motion. It felt much like what had happened to him.
Maybe this was some algorithm of the universe. Some inevitably. Conquer with superior technology, rename (or in Lokiâs case, keep his name, memories and emotions but force him to live forever without the people he assumes he once loved) and then make amends. Loki assumed apologies were also part of the algorithm. He expected you to give him a lengthy, extravagant apology.
He would use his newly activated post-AI seiĂ°r to conjure a dagger, point it precisely at your replicant heart processing unit and wait patiently until you said you were sorry and meant it.
Although in all his confidence of his mission he knew he looked beleaguered. The curves of the California coastline had worn his Asgardian leather boots to the quick. His hair was a mess. He hated the fact that even as an AI he cared about what people thought of him. Truly why did he care if you thought he looked terrible? You were the reason he was so miserable. The ridiculousness of his CPU and the delicate sensibilities of his quantum processor were laughable if it wasnât him going through this crap every day.
Nevertheless-he tried to straighten up his royal prince-without-a-kingdom finery, and be prepared just in case your model had a fight mode programmed somewhere in you (although extremely unlikely you did-as replicant models tend to align with the source material and as far as Loki could tell when reading about you, you had trouble with even killing flies, you had shooed them out the windows of your life).
When Loki arrived at your cedar planked cliff side house, he was seized with the inability to knock or just open the damn door. If he was capable of being nervous maybe, he was. You got so few visitors these days, you lived and worked in a perpetual quiet. Although your quantum dog species approximation field unit companion heard him coming and lit up with his usual alert incandescence.
You were in the middle of taking a long-deserved break from your latest invention and since the lab and your home was so far from the company headquarters in Seoul, you could at times take a load off. Of course, your source human had already created the invention you were re-creating in your coastal lab, but in this time pocket, as a replicant you methodically repeated the past with sincerity and every aberration-every iterative that occurred was recorded-if the past could indeed be changed, the labs in the other time pockets were interested to know.
You had just put a pie in the antique oven your home was equipped with. Although you never ate the things you baked, since you were not a human, you had no way to consume material matter, but you liked to imagine the human you once were eating pie and such things as pan du chocolate, whatever that could be. The memory fields you had access to recorded great joy associated with that particular pastry. You sighed to yourself when you realized someone was at your door. There was no way to recall if anyone had come to your door this century, so you were unsure what to do next. Your quantum dog field unit materialized alongside you as you approached the door, a small comfort.His lick and his bark contained molecular level particles that could adhere to any surface and launch 5th generation nano tech into the matter that was a threat. You glanced down at your dog unit, hoping he understood what to do. The lab in Seoul surely wouldnât come by unannounced.
You continued to imagine who this possibly could be.
One more knock and the door flung open leaving Lokiâs hand motioning mid-air barely missing your face. Quantum unit bristled and lunged forward, you had just enough time to perform the Ba Duan Jin and cease the unitâs actions, luckily it worked, and he stopped short of licking Lokiâs other hand. Your face grimaced at the thought had he been successful.
âThatâs one way to say hello I guess,â you said finally, staring at the tall stranger in tight head to toe leather.
Loki shifted in his dilapidated boots.
âIf you donât mind sending off your friend there, Iâve come to see Y/N, are you her?â
You shifted in your house slippers, unsure how to answer the ominous looking man.
âWho is asking, I am sure you recognize we donât get many guests around here.â
Loki took a moment to look around, his surroundings were beyond remote. Where there was once a highway as they were called-it was now a coastal river flowing alongside the crashing Pacific Ocean. There were other houses, but they looked kilometers away and hidden underneath the treelined ridges of cedar. The whole area seemed long abandoned. It was hard to believe the area was Midgardâs premiere Artificial Intelligence lab, but it was-or at least he hoped it still was.
âI donât imagine you do,â he finally said.
âIâm Loki of Asgard. Or at least I was.â
You looked at him intently, his name rumbling just under your breath. Loki of Asgard.
âName doesnât ring a bell. Should I know you?â
Loki looked slightly disappointed, but then found his footing. He was ready to conjure his blades and start the process of his forced apology protocol that heâd been imagining since he finally found you in this pocket universe, but you had that quantum field unit dog approximation, and Loki knew just how dangerous their bark or lick could be.
Heâd seen a vista vision replicant melt down instantly back on the Sakaar pocket universe, it was disgusting. The bots charged with cleaning it up were covered in the gelatinous goo and their poor quantum motors exploded. Brief puffs of smoke clouded the main room where Loki witnessed the dreadful event, all beings present that day couldnât stop coughing for hours. He wasnât about to do anything that would risk him becoming a sentient gelatinous ball of goo stored on some middle-aged Midgardian scientistsâ shelf for eternity. No thank you.
So, he chose his words carefully and plotted his next actions with keen resolve. His charm mode was still active even though heâd had little use for it over the last how many centuries. Living amongst non-emotional entities, heâd had little use for any of his old Norse god programming. Charms, charisma-even his good looks were of little consequence most of the time.
All the beings seemed blind without their emotions. It was a milquetoast world of binary interactions, except for the occasional display of randomness where he might get to use some of his exquisite vocabulary on a service bot and they might just say something cheeky back, but it was usually in reference to crossword puzzles.
You seemed close enough to a service bot in Lokiâs approximation, so perhaps some higher range vocabulary repartee would warrant a peaceful invite inside your seemingly cozy abode.
You stood unmoving even if youâd dispatched quantum dog unit to the couch, you werenât convinced this Loki was friendly.
âMy dear, I smell something delicious coming from your kitchen!â
You looked behind you quickly before replying.
âYes, I just put a pie in the oven.â
âOh pie!â Lokiâs smile was so big he was slightly afraid his proxy coating might snap. He continued.
âYou know pie is a deceptively simple dessert, I know it seems quotidian, but the true baker knows that a real pie is a work of art, and the baker should be lauded as both pastry debonair and artist. I am myself a pie auteur and artist. I love watching people bake and I excel at baking myself. If youâd give me a chance, Iâm sure we could have a great afternoon baking an assortment of pies!â
You let him prattle on but the more he talked the closer your hand moved to slamming the door in his face. You didnât know the concept âfishyâ but somehow that word appeared in your programming stream.
He might have noticed how the door moved a few centimeters as you rearranged your hand just in case you needed to levy your motion in a fast swoop. His speech programming began to speed up.
âI appreciate making all kinds of pies-savory, sweet-unique varieties like bacon and maple.â
âBacon?â you said, quizzically.
Loki might have been caught. Heâd pulled that word out of his quantum CPU ass so to speak, he had no clue what bacon was. He paused for a moment and tried to go on.
âOh yes, if you donât know what that ingredient is, please donât feel affronted, not everyone knows it, but if you know, you know-as they say.â
âWho is âtheyâ?â you pondered out loud. What the hell was he talking about? You had to say something, this man had about 30 seconds left before you rallied your quantum approximation off the couch.
You leaned in a little closer before continuing to speak.
âLet me get this straight, you came all the way out to this pocket universe and just on the off chance I was baking a pie, something you happen to be an expert in baking and eating?â
Loki looked around a little bit, another enormous smile formed on his face, and he continued his pie rhetoric.
âAbsolutely, yes, that is exactly why I am here to see you today! Isnât it marvelous?â
That was it. You didnât call the approximation off the couch, but you flung the heavy cedar door closed so fast Lokiâs nose was almost clipped. You should have gone back to the kitchen, checked on the damn pie or made your way back to the lab to clear your mind of the stranger but you couldnât. You stood frozen on the other side of the door staring at it. Impressive wood grain, youâd never taken the time to look before.
Loki was also similarly frozen.
It seems that in this pocket universe there were rules of communication he just didnât understand. But it was you. He knew it, and he had to talk to you. You had created him, and you could destroy him. Another smile threatened to break his proxy skin, he thought to himself, she makes replicant augmented beings and pie. Wow.
He was impressed at your skill set, and a little star struck if he were able to be honest at all. He expected himself to be mad. He expected to immediately rush into his forced apology protocol with you, but he couldnât.
After what felt like hours outside the door, his sensors detected a richer approximation of apple pie wafting out of the cracks in the old house. If he had a stomach, it would be growling. He decided to speak again, just to see if you might still be on the other side of the door.
âAre you still there by chance?â his words were decidedly softer.
You didnât know what to say. Maybe? You steeled yourself and went through nearly all the programming you could, until you decided to go off script, you could-it was an ancient program, but you could enable it. You shifted again, and you could feel a surge of confidence running through your CPU clouds. You took a chance.
âI am. What do you really want? It canât be to sample my baking.â
âWell, if you let me in, I would be delighted to sample some of your handy work, but yes, what you suspect is true, I have other business.â
Loki looked at his large hands, he was fiddling with them. He had been so angry for so long. Heâd been prepared to unleash it all on you, but now he just couldnât. His impulse ions were directing him to sit down in your kitchen and let you feed him and make him some tea.
The memory of eating, the memory of tea pulsed through his quantum RAM clouds, he felt lightheaded, if that was possible. Heâd never experienced that feeling âlightheadedâ but he knew it conceptually. He could hear bird proxyâs singing-and the ocean breeze was dancing against his face. Then everything went blank. It was the most pleasant feeling.
You heard the thump. It sounded like one of the rocks from the ridge came tumbling down and hit your front door. You jumped back and then panicked. If that was an impulse, you could replicate. Before any more programming could inhibit you, your hands opened the door and Lokiâs body slumped onto your slippered feet.
âOh no,â your voice was shaky as you immediately grabbed him by the collar of his leather jacket and pulled him inside your house.
âThatâs one way to get inside I guess,â you said out loud as you dragged him into the living room.
The approximation field unit dog jumped off the couch and used his canine Ba Duan Jin to assist you. You raced into the kitchen with no idea how you would revive him. You werenât even sure what he was. A fear came through you that he might be human. Or some other replicant model that was not in use anymore. Something was out of place, and it wasnât you.
You were right where you should be, in your lab, completing your augmented being protocol in this pocket universe, checking for time aberrations that the lab in Seoul was recording.
You were a not the human who created the augmented being protocol, you were her approximation. This man was likely that too. You kneeled next to him and fought the urge to push the stray strands of black hair from his handsome face. He was handsome, some part of your programming understood that even if was a very odd concept and one you had no idea at all what to do with.
When Loki woke up, he all but swore heâd finally made it to his beloved Valhalla. Who knew there was pie in Valhalla. His sensors were firing double time with a memory laden onslaught that was now engulfing him.
His vision field was blurred and when he saw you, he could see your golden wings, you were the Valkyrie that took him home. He felt you beside him and he wondered if youâd also go to bed with him-even though you had no idea what that was, the vision of himself naked without his leather finery and you naked in just your golden wings burned through his CPU at rapid speed. He spoke finally with gravel in his voice.
âValkyrie thank you for finally bringing me home, would you allow me to kiss you as a show of my gratitude?â
The words rattled from his mouth, but they were drifting and soft, their tone had an unusual register that you could not discern.
âValkyrie,â you said out loud to yourself or maybe to the approximation field unit who was eagerly at your side.
âKiss? What?â words stumbled from your mouth this time purposely at the slowly waking Loki.
What was this being talking about. It couldnât be possible.
He couldnât be a Norse god, but you knew exactly who they Valkyrie were, even if it was arcane to know so. You had the entire history of Midgard religions stored in your CPU, like all beings on the planet in this era.
Even though it was the responsibility of other historian bots to keep this wisdom and use it for the new rituals, you at least knew of it, and you knew of Valkyries and Valhalla, yet it was a concept so foreign to process, your own timeline felt dented by it.
You placed your hand on his shoulder and tried to rouse him further. You knew what kissing was too, but you couldnât process it further, even though you were programmed with less fear than your human approximation had, something still flashed through you that threatened to shut your CPU down as well. You had to keep alert. You had to focus.
âLoki,â you said, in an equally quiet voice, you wanted to speak plainly to him. He deserved that much, he must have come from quite a distance to reach you.
âSorry to say, Iâm no Valkyrie.â
âIâm a replicant bot here mirroring the invention of augmented being technology, something that happened so long ago no one truly cares about it except the history bots and the ritual bots. I donât even know if there is even a lab monitoring anything anymore.â
You hoped there was, youâd hate to think all your work was for nothing, but so many centuries on your own would lead one to make some assumptions. Lokiâs eyes slowly opened. He must have heard you.
âLoki are youâŠonâŠ.?â You spoke.
Was that the right word? You didnât know if gods could turn on or off, or if they just had a perpetual energy source like the Midgard sun to keep them running in a timeless swirl. Loki was indeed âonâ-but he also didnât want to give anything away. Heâd made it inside apparently. He realized he wasnât in Valhalla-he was on a couch. A rather uncomfortable one at that.
âI see,â he whispered.
Loki remembered his âdreamâ he was having, he remembered the idea of kissing, the idea of being in your bed, with you. A flush coursed through him and his eyes opened widely. He turned his head and placed his hands down across where his pleasure unit had been installed, at the middle of his body. Something sure had woken up along with him! In all his years as an augmented being it had been few and far between that he used his pleasure unit, all the bots in his pocket universe just liked to drink fizzy fixer drinks and talk about the politics of the day, but somewhere in the deepest parts of his programming he remembered something about his former self.
He remembered passion, he remembered bedding women and men, he remembered them crying in pleasure as he put what he once called his âcockâ inside them. He knew there were rituals heâd participated in on Midgard, heâd even loved-or he thought possibly he had. A torrent of knowing descended upon him but he still maintained his cool, while his pleasure unit simmered down. Although if he didnât stop thinking about the so called past, his pleasure unit would never recalibrate back into idle mode. He looked at you carefully. You were stunned once again. Youâd been struggling with the idea of a god laying on your couch, but a god with a pleasure unit was something you simply could not make sense of.
Loki looked down at his hands, still covering his âcockâ, and he flushed again, or something like that at least.
âOh dear, I am truly sorry. I must have been dreaming,â words rolled from his lips while you still sat staring.
âYou dream?â you said, attempting to make the conversation about some of the other truly anomalous things happening all at once.
âDreams were the domain of the human, we donât reallyâŠI meanâŠI donâtâŠbut what are you Loki?â
âI do dream Y/N,â he said, sitting up unceremoniously.
âYou do?â
You were feeling weak. Something in your program felt like you should eat, even though replicant bots did not eat. It was like an ancient file had burst open and a million synaptic waves were flooding your usual programming. You turned to Loki and found more words.
âWe should eat, let me cut us some of the pie, itâs cold by now but itâs probably still good.â
You dashed into the kitchen and pried the pie pan from the oven rack, you dipped your finger sensor into the middle, sure enough it was icy, but no matter. You hastily opened the cabinets searching for something you knew was a plate, something you put pie on, for all the pies youâd baked why in the world did you have no plates?
Worse you opened the drawers and found you had no forks either. Surely the human you used to be left something, you opened every drawer and every cabinet, dust flying in all directions. You stood on the old, cracked foot stool and ran your hands across the top cabinet shelf distributing more dust into the atmosphere, when you felt it. A ting against your sensors, you wrapped your fingers around it, and sure enough there was something there.
âGot something!â you nervously called back to Loki who was still sitting in a little daze himself.
Looking at the pairs of wooden sticks in your hand, you couldnât be sure, but maybe they were used for food? You held them up to Loki, waving them in the air.
âLook familiar to you at all?â
He squinted his blue eyes and looked closer.
âAh, those are chopsticks and yes you do use those for food consumption,â Loki said expertly.
âOh wonderful, phew,â you said with more energy pulsing through the vines of circuits under your proxy skin.
You sat down next to Loki on the couch-pie and chopsticks in your right hand, scooting aside the approximation field unit dog with your left-causing a small approximation yip from him.
âOh, this looks absolutely delicious, thank you so much Y/N, I feel unworthy for you to share your baking with me, I just descended upon you like this unannounced,â Loki sheepishly laughed.
Lucky (or unlucky) for you both, there were two sets of chopsticks. You took yours out of the wrapper and so did Loki, seemingly following your lead.
The approximation dog was on the port side the couch, you, the pie, and Loki making up the starboard. It was a humorous conglomeration of entities, huddled together.
âGuests first,â you said pushing the pie pan towards Loki.
Loki smiled and deftly wielded one of the chopsticks into the center of the pan in a slaying fashion, much like he had practiced doing to you with one of his blades when he enacted his forced apology protocol.
âAh, there we go,â Loki said looking proudly at you.
Having no real idea what to do, if he was right or wrong-you simply followed suit, you took one of your chopsticks and duplicated his firm stroke placing your chopstick full hilt into the pie alongside his.
âLovely! Seems we did it, donât you think?â Loki looked confidently in your direction.
You were deep in your programming for a while before you spoke again.
âLoki, you donât eat, do you?â
Loki looked down at his boots and up again at you.
âNo. You donât either do you?â
âNo,â you said in an echo of his sentiment.
There was something sad, or what your programming was telling you was sad. Loki looked sad. He was slow to speak next.
âI remember the god I was used to eat though-I remember loving food. I remember loving lots of things.â
Lokiâs programming temporally drifted once again to kissing, to bedding women. He looked at you and thought if he couldnât eat anymore, he could try kissing. He could still do that he thought.
He hadnât expected any of this programming. Heâd come to ask you to turn him off permanently, but now all he wanted to do was kiss you. Loki hadnât even had the chance to ask you for your help. Explain Valhalla to you. He felt the darkness springing through his CPU, he was likely shorting out again, or near to it. He tried to steady himself, clear his programming to silence mode, but it didnât work.
You noticed how unsteady he looked, and you placed your hands on him, which in turn only seemed to make him grow more unsteady. Perhaps he was dying finally. Perhaps this was what the norns had designed in their infinite timeless wisdom. He was going to get to Valhalla after all if this replicant being would just kiss him, or maybe he should kiss you? He couldnât remember how kisses worked and it frustrated him to no end.
âI want to kiss you,â Loki finally just came out with it.
âWHAT,â you countered.
âDo you know what a kiss is?â
He sounded ridiculous by any standard in any universe pocket or otherwise, his former god self was in disgust at the vulnerable desperation his CPU quantum drive was producing. You did know what kissing was, you thought. You closed your eyes and remained in quiet mode.
Loki focused himself, feeling the drift of blankness near-he acted quickly by taking your head in his hands and placing his lips on yours in one swift motion much like he did with the chopstick in the pie. Your eyes instinctually remained closed, and you felt your programming do something extraordinary. You kissed him back. Deeply, passionately, awkwardly, and full of memory of your former human life. It was like the act of kissing unlocked more of your humanâs life and more of the secrets of humanity in general. Kissing was a prelude, an invitation. It was used when you ran out of words. You pulled away from Loki and opened your eyes but his eyes remained closed.
What in the world was next?
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