when the sun goes down
▹— joel miller x platonic!f!reader
▹— summary: joel doesn’t talk about you, until he does
▹— a/n: this one might be kinda ,, weird?? idk if i like how ive written it!! its kinda different to my usual fics !!! + the ending is kinda funky idk
▹— warnings: fem!reader (she/her used), reader is dead , mention of reader getting infected , grief, loss, guilt, lots of angst, small mention of suicidal ideation, referenced murder, mother tess, father joel, uncle tommy, ellie asking inappropriate questions tbh, think that’s everything but let me know!
▹— taglist: @rhymingtree @sleepygraves @wnstice (everything) @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @lemonlaides @fariylixie0915 @faceache111 @randomhoex @canpillowscry @pedropascalsrealgf @star-wars-lover @coolchick333 @soobsdior @rvjaa @sunflowersdrop @definitely-not-a-seagull-i-swear (pedro)
masterlist
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When Joel had been a stranger, Ellie would have never even had the thought to guess that you or Sarah had existed. The man seemed… too stoic, too unbothered, or perhaps, too bothered. She was never really sure what Joel was, back then.
But over the weeks, then the months, and then the years of knowing Joel Miller, it had become increasingly obvious that there was a distinctive daughter-shaped gap within him. It had left a cavernous space in the man, which Ellie had done her very best to fill, even if she would never have admitted it to anyone.
It was clear in the way Joel had tied up her hair when she was sick, in the way he knew exactly what she needed to hear, even when she didn’t know herself. It was obvious in the way he responded to her argumentative nature, her spitting words, his protective behaviour.
Ellie hadn’t even really thought about it, until the day she and Joel arrived at Jackson, until Maria revealed what the two names on that chalkboard meant. After that, it all started to make sense, and she had finally believed that she understood Joel Miller in some deeper way, in a way that actually mattered. She didn’t think about what she was doing back when she had argued with Joel, when she had spluttered out, “I’m not her, you know.”
Your name hadn’t even been mentioned, back then, and Ellie hadn’t known at the time that when she had said her, Joel didn’t know exactly who she was talking about.
Either way, he made it clear that Ellie shouldn’t be mentioning anybody Joel had lost. Certainly not you or Sarah, or even Tess.
After the whole… hospital fiasco, Ellie wasn’t sure she had ever understood Joel, after all. She’d been numb, to some extent, when she and Joel had finally made it back to Jackson, back to Tommy and Maria’s warm house, with their surprisingly peaceful baby. The first time she had visited their house, she hadn’t even noticed your name up on the chalkboard, a new addition, one without any dates below it, but written with as much care as the others.
It was the second, or the third time, maybe, that Ellie noticed the brand new name up on the chalkboard in Maria’s living room. She had been even more hesitant to talk about it than she had been to talk about Sarah and Kevin, so Ellie had figured that the loss was fresh. She hadn’t asked again, for a very long time.
Tommy, unsurprisingly, had been the one to tell her. A long day after a nightly patrol had the man exhausted, and he was two glasses of booze in when he had seen Ellie squinting up at the chalkboard as she was around for dinner.
“He ever tell you about her?” Tommy asked, fresh glass of booze gripped in his fist as he settled down on the sofa, looking up at the board with something numb in his eyes.
Ellie had said your name like a question, eyes scanning between the board and Tommy with furrowed brows. At Tommy’s nod, Ellie had shook her head, turning to Tommy like a child ready for story time before bed.
Tommy took another sip of his drink, sucking his teeth before he finally spoke. “He never told me what happened to her,” He said, eyes fixed on the board as if information might appear. “But I figure he must blame himself, whatever happened. She was fine when I left, but I’m guessing gone by the time you were around.” Tommy continued, looking to Ellie, who nodded. “Don’t know when exactly it happened. He’s real tight lip about it, even more so than he is about Tess, but I don’t blame him. She was his second chance.”
“Second chance?” Ellie repeated, eyebrows raised.
Tommy nodded in confirmation. “Found her not long after the Outbreak. She took to Joel straight away, poor kid. After Sarah, he was… different, but Joel, he looked after that girl like nobody else would’a.”
Some of the things Joel had done or said made a lot more sense to Ellie, in light of this information. You had been Joel’s second chance at protecting his daughter, his redemption, and he had failed. It was no surprise, in that case, that he had been as protective as he had. Or that he had tried to dump Ellie with Tommy, back when they first got to Jackson.
Joel believed he was a failure.
It was quite the realisation for Ellie.
She noticed more, after that. Like the way Joel would stop in the street when he saw people who must have held a certain resemblance to you or to Sarah. Or the way he would stay up late into the night, staring blankly at the darkening world around him as he sat on the porch. Ellie noticed just how much effort Joel put into looking after her, as if afraid that something could happen to her, or she could just disappear. She also noticed the way his eyes lingered on Tommy’s chalkboard, each time they visited.
Ellie thought that maybe, some day, Joel would wind up talking about you on his own. But days passed, and then weeks, and then they’d been staying in Jackson for close to two years, and nothing.
If it hadn’t had been for Joel sticking his nose into Ellie’s business, she probably would’ve never even revealed to him that she knew of your existence. Or at least, your connection to him. But Joel Miller was nothing if not stubborn, and when Ellie had been down for more than two days in a row, he stopped minding his business.
Joel was all comforting words in the face of a preventable loss on a patrol, and Ellie was sick of it.
“It ain’t your fault, kiddo. Nobody blames you for what happened, and you oughta talk about it to somebody.” Joel had said, voice warm and concerned like any father might be, and Ellie couldn’t help but snap after the day she’d had.
“It’s always one thing for you and then another for me, Joel!” She said, baring her teeth at the man, who only looked as confused as ever. “I’m sick of it. Stop telling me things that you know aren’t true, just because you feel guilty!”
His arms had been crossed defensively over his chest at her words, his eyebrows furrowing, the crease between them more prominent than ever. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, voice gruff and warning, as opposed to the previous tone he had been taking with her. He was practically daring her to go on with what she was insinuating.
“That you want to believe your kids dying wasn’t on you! And that’s great, Joel, but this was on me. It was my fault.” Ellie had spat out, arms wide out by her side, their stances opposing one another. She was accepting her guilt, acknowledging it, realising it was true, where Joel had only ever taken the blame, lugging the guilt along with him for years as if hoping it could disappear.
He had been sure, for a moment, that Ellie had taken to physical blows, but he realised in the silence which had followed her words that the pain was all him. She was right, which to Joel, was the real kicker. He had a knack for projecting onto people, for being defensive over guilt as if it reflected his own. As if, somehow, Ellie being guilty meant that Joel certainly was, too.
Maybe Ellie was right, but even if she was, Joel was in no mindset to admit it. How could he? He couldn’t even bring himself to talk about you, too scared that Ellie would see him for what he truly was; a failure. How would Ellie have responded to that? It was the exact reason he hadn’t told her the truth about the hospital, about what he had done, about the lengths he would go to. She might have seen him violent before, but never to that extent. Never against people she cared for.
If he told Ellie the truth, he would have to admit that he had failed a third child. Perhaps not quite in the same way as he had failed you and Sarah, but in some capacity, he would lose her, too.
Joel had been a selfish man for a very long time, by then. It was no surprise that he opted for the path that would allow him to keep the only child he had left. Who could blame him? Even Tommy, in some strange way, had understood his actions. Especially after his baby had been born, Tommy couldn’t blame Joel for doing what was necessary.
A parent’s love for their child was unrelenting. And Joel took that sentiment very seriously.
But Ellie couldn’t understand. She wouldn’t.
So, in that moment, he had levelled her with a look that put all parental glares to shame. “Go to your room.” Joel had instructed, voice flat, cold. Ellie, in her shock, had done as she was told, which was unusual.
This time, however, when Joel told Tommy of what had occurred, his brother hadn’t agreed with his actions.
When Tommy explained that Ellie didn’t know about you, or about Sarah, and certainly didn’t understand the relationship the two of you had had with Joel, he could see how she could’ve said something so… distasteful. After all, Joel had never told Ellie exactly what had happened to Sarah, let alone to you. Hell, he didn’t speak about you at all. He didn’t want Ellie to believe that he would fail her next.
But the talk was overdue, and the silence in the house had been suffocating Joel, and he noticed how uncomfortable Ellie had been, too. So he had no choice but to steel himself, to grip a mug of coffee, give up on slowing his heart rate.
When Ellie walked through the door, having been out with her friends all day, she stopped short at seeing Joel sat on the couch, looking more stressed than she had seen him in a long, long time. “Sit down.” Joel said, his words catching and tumbling out, as he gestured towards the armchair opposite the couch.
Surprisingly, she sat. “Is everything… okay?” She asked, hesitantly.
“I think it’s time I have a talk with you,” Joel admitted, his fingers squeezing the mug tightly. “You were right.”
“As always.” Ellie responded instantly, an instinctive response that generated a scoff of laughter from Joel, soothing his stressed brow the slightest amount. She cringed, but relaxed at his expression. “About what, exactly?”
“About it being one thing for me, and another for you. It’s not fair of me to ask you to talk about things, if I don’t talk right back to you.” Joel said, slowly, trying to sort through his thoughts before he fumbled another important father-daughter talk, as he had done many times before. “I’m goin’ to tell you about my girls.”
“Joel, you really don’t—”
He interrupted, “No, I do. And I want to.”
Ellie nodded after a moment, settling down in her chair, finally placing her backpack by her feet. “Okay.”
“Okay,” Joel repeated. He took a deep breath, squeezing the coffee mug once more. He said your name, the syllables almost unfamiliar for how long it had been since he had said it. “She, well, I—… She got Infected, ‘bout six years ago.”
Ellie sucked in a harsh breath, sure she knew what had happened after that. It was a story she knew, all too well. Joel scratched at the hair on his cheek, grinding his teeth together. Remembering it all, remembering you was… hard. But it was also refreshing. As if showing the parts of you he’d held to his chest for so long was a weight, lifted from his shoulders.
He didn’t want to talk about that part, about the time he failed you, about what he’d done for you, but other things? He could talk about those.
Joel remembered the years he had spent with you, watching you grow, spending weeks of his life searching for gifts for every assumed birthday. He remembered teaching you how to read, gifting you books, helping you learn how to survive. He remembered the bond you’d shared with Tess, the time the two of them would spend doing your hair for you, with whatever supplies they could manage.
Telling Ellie about you was probably the most vulnerable Joel had ever been with her. It was certainly the most open he had been. It felt like, for the first time in a very long time, he had his heart stitched onto his sleeve.
There was so many memories of you, so many he’d kept to himself for years because Tess had never been able to talk about you, because he couldn’t bring himself to, either. He worried about memories he had forgotten, about how much of your face had faded into obscurity, about how inaccurately he recalled your laugh, your voice.
He thought that, perhaps, his very worst fear would be that if he let go of these memories, if he let other people look upon them alongside him, he’d forget. Joel wasn’t sure he could be open and hold on tight enough. What was too much? How much could he say before he forgot it all? How much would he remember if he didn’t analyse them in his mind? If he let Ellie listen to the moments he held most dear?
Joel didn’t want to forget.
But if he didn’t tell anybody, then who would remember you, after Joel was gone?
There was Tommy, he’d considered, but he knew Tommy’s memories were corrupted, taken over by Firefly nostalgia. No, despite Joel’s being older, his memories of you were certain to be more reliable.
“Here,” Joel said, eventually, his throat feeling tight with the effort of holding back tears. He pulled out a folded up print, one he had gotten out just that afternoon. It was crumpled and degraded with age, but the image remained true. “This is her.”
Ellie took the photo from his hands, the image being of you. It was taken when you were a kid, back when he’d first found you, back when FEDRA had been doing photographs, before all of the printing supplies ran out. It wasn’t a happy picture by any means, merely an image of you, stood in front of a white background with a scared look on your face, dirt smeared across your nose, but it was you. And to Joel, that was enough.
He much preferred to think of you that way, rather than your last moments. It was the only thing that allowed him to let go of that last picture of you, the one that haunted his mind.
When Tess had died, the only thing that gave Joel some peace was the belief that she would have reunited with you. That you wouldn’t be alone, anymore. Often times, in the events after your… well, after he lost you, Joel had considered following you down that path. He had prayed to the God he had once believed in, he had cried out for any divine interference to stop what had happened from being true. But no matter how much he prayed, how much he cried, you were gone.
You had given him a purpose, after Sarah. Joel doesn’t think he would’ve made it this far, if it hadn’t been for you. And it feels so… wrong. He thinks, now, that Ellie had provided him with a purpose, after you.
“So, you raised her in the apocalypse?” Ellie asked, looking down at the photograph fondly, running a thumb along the yellowing picture.
“That I did.”
“Lucky kid.” Ellie said, not nastily.
“I dunno, kiddo, I’ve not always been the best…” Joel trailed off, unsure if he could actually refer to himself as your dad, after everything. After what he had done. Or, rather, what he hadn’t. “We did our best, me and Tess. Hell, even Tommy pitched in.” Joel decided on, after a moment.
He remembered the times Tommy would agree to look after you, to babysit, if such a thing existed in the apocalypse. Usually, it was when he and Tess were going outside of the QZ for supplies, occasionally for the Fireflies, which was why Tommy was allowed time away from his war against FEDRA.
One such time, Joel recalled, he and Tess had returned back to the ransacked apartment they had been assigned to find you and Tommy curled up on the decaying couch, which had only one cushion, asleep. A blanket had been wrapped around your shoulders, and Tommy had your newest book held in his lap.
In that moment, Joel had so wished that he could’ve taken a picture. He remembered a picture of almost the same scene, of Tommy and Sarah on the couch in his old house, in front of a still-playing TV. He regretted not taking the photo albums when they left, back then. Even now, he often felt a pang of regret over how much of Sarah’s memory was reliant on his own.
“Tess raised her with you?” Ellie questioned, almost surprised, but she could remember the way Tess had acted almost… maternal. Not to mention her optimism, her hope, when there was a possibility of a cure. She wondered if that was because of what had happened to you.
Joel nodded, going on to tell the tale of Tess teaching you how to shoot, when you became old enough to handle a gun, when it became apparent that you would need to handle one. He remembered how you had missed all but one shot by your second lot of ammo. He remembered how frustrated you had been, how Tess had told you to suck it up and try again, with that good old no-nonsense attitude.
Ellie could almost imagine Tess saying that, could almost picture how annoying that must’ve been for you as a kid. It was almost amusing to try and picture Joel and Tess raising a child in the apocalypse, especially given how the two had been when she had met them, herself. She tried to imagine that Tess being a mother, but came up empty.
“Did she, y’know, call you dad, or whatever?” Ellie asked Joel, after a moment of hesitation. She wasn’t sure if that was inappropriate to ask, but she was curious. She couldn’t imagine calling Joel ‘dad’ to his face, even though he was the only father she had ever known.
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“Dad!” You yelled, jumping up from the couch and away from Tommy, successfully waking him up in the process. You stumbled your way to the door as Joel swung it open, already dropping his bag to the floor. He was used to the greeting party, but you didn’t often shout him, in fact — did you ever? And since when did you call him ‘dad’? “You’re home! Did you get it?” You asked, jumping into his awaiting arms.
Joel squeezed you tightly, feeling a mixture of guilty and relieved that he was glad to be back, to come home to the child he had yet to fail. He thought about where you could have learnt that word, that name from, and could only come up with the new books Tommy had been helping you with while he and Tess had been away.
“‘Course I got it,” Joel responded, his voice gruff but full of warmth and humour. “Who d’you take me for?” He asked, grinning at your laughter and the way you squirmed from his hold to get to the backpack he’d dropped beside his feet.
“What’re we reading next, then?” Tommy asked, drawing Joel’s attention over towards the sofa, where his younger brother was smiling fondly. You hurried over, attention easily drawn away, and showed Tommy the book you’d taken from Joel’s bag, the one he’d managed to scrounge on his journey outside with Tess.
Joel was quickly drawn from his memories of the journey by you calling out to him once more. “Dad, are you coming to read with us, or not?” You asked, exasperated, and Joel grinned as he came over, his heart aching in his chest at the name, at the nostalgia of the activity.
“You bet.”
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“She did.” Joel answered, after a moment of him being distracted, thinking of that very first time, thinking of the way he had fallen back into the title with such familiarity. He wondered if you would have been much like Sarah, had you been born before the apocalypse. Sometimes, he wondered that about Ellie. Often, he had to remind himself that you and Ellie weren’t his biological kids, and if it wasn’t for the apocalypse, he wouldn’t have had you.
He doesn’t like the way his chest aches at the thought of that. It might just be the only reason he’s grateful for the apocalypse that had ruined the world.
“She would’a liked you, y’know.” Joel said, almost absentmindedly, as if that comment didn’t make Ellie’s chest warm with appreciation, with pride. As if it didn’t make her wish that she could’ve met you, could’ve proved that comment correct.
“I think I would’ve liked her, too.” Ellie said, quietly, watching the way Joel reminisced, his eyes glazed over as he stared at the photo she still held. He smiled after a moment, and she was sure he was imagining what his life would’ve been like, had all of his kids met.
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