#joel miller ptsd

[josephquinnswhore]

replicate failure to protect - joel miller x female reader

summary: Joel cannot bare to lose you, not the same way he lost Sarah. Through his own self declared failure to protect.

word count: 1.8k

content warnings: ptsd episode, panic attack, mention of past attempted suicide, reader gets fucked up ig, blood, murder, guns, violence, age gap- unspecified. Established relationship.

It feels euphoric, the numbness that spreads from your side up your arms, parts of your body are fizzing with a lightheaded tingle as the blood seeps out of your body. Past the point of pain, the searing sensation of a dull arrowhead being pulled forward, taut at the hands of a single raider camouflaging into the surrounding bush—whistled silently through the air. The metal savagely tears through your flesh and stops right below your bottom rib on the left side.

As you lie on the ground, you’re unable to make sense of the blurred shapes and colours of the overgrown foliage on the slanted buildings, the sound of explosive gunfire is muffled by the ringing in your ears—you feel something. A tugging sensation, one that vibrates through the arrowhead and emits a protestful rumble from your lungs.

All you can make out is muffled ringing in your ears and some incoherent mumbling, watching the blurred outline of his lips move.

You can barely make him out, as he kneels above you, having snapped off the end of the arrow and tossed it behind him, knowing better than to take his eyes off of you for one moment. He’d looked away once, when he’d apprehensively watched you drop to the ground once the arrow had hit. In a moment of necessity to eliminate the enemy.

All you can make out is muffled ringing in your ears and some incoherent mumbling, watching the blurred outline of his lips move.

He knew tearing his gaze off of you a second time was a death sentence.

It had happened once before—the split microsecond that his deep brown teary eyes had sought reassurance from his younger brother in a moment of pure desperation. Pleading for any kind of comfort his brother could promise that she would survive, but she’d slipped away in his arms. The life in her eyes had faded the moment he looked away. Missing the last moments of light in her eyes that solitudes life.

This could not happen to you.

His aching fingers tear off a segment off his flannel below the last button, bending down to manoeuvre your body to slide the fabric under your back, wrapping it around the arrow to keep it stable.

The crimson blood had begun to seep through the flannel before he had finished tying a knot in the shredded fabric, even the loose strands of twine were stained.

But the blood.. your blood covers his hands, the colour burns the back of his eyelids. A burning sensation rises up his throat at the recognition. As he leans over you, the blood makes contact with his flannel, smearing a messy, damp pattern onto his clothes. He was reliving hell all over again two decades later.

But he broke his own rule, tearing his focus gaze away from your face to finish this task, it had been mere seconds of the process. He looked away a second time.

Speaking to you absentmindedly, his gaze returns to your face, dread filling his chest when he sees that your lips are slightly parted. The stress line in your forehead has ceased as your head is lulled to the side, the supple skin of your cheeks is grazed on the surface of the dirt on the ground.

Those beautiful, teary orbs that had just been staring at him with an unfocused gaze were now clamped shut.

A part of Joel wants to give up, reliving the traumatic event that had torn apart his will to live two decades ago, and left him with physical and psychological scars.

“No.. no, no no!” The shout is primal, a clear denial of acceptance that this was your fate.

The sight of you sends a jostle of dread through his veins. All he could see was himself re-living through the devastation of losing Sarah. On the account that he had failed once again to protect someone he loves.

Gathering his thoughts and thinking fast, he intertwined his hands and placed them in the centre of your chest, ignoring the ache in his knees against the crackled rubble of the concrete ground. He positions himself above you, bringing a inhuman-like strength into pounding his hands against your chest as he begins his compressions.

“Not you, not you baby.” He utters desperately, voice thick with emotion.

Unaware of his little brother’s presence—Joel’s eyes darken, black in colour and exerting a burning gaze through your eyelids, prompting you to open them.

To look at him. To prove he hadn’t failed you too.

An exhausted, broken cry rolls between his lips into the stale air between you, spit flying from his mouth as his actions become less precise and more desperate and harmful. Ignoring the fact that he had heard a substantial crack vibrate through his palms.

The burning sensation is all over, his shoulders, arms, wrists, knees. His heart.

“You’re not doin’ this, y’hear me? You have’ta stay.. you stay f’me baby.”

All the while your body is unmoving, limbs shaking with each downward thrust of his hands. “Just open ‘em for me, just look at me.”

Tommy watches the horrific scene, unaware of what your state was like—but he had seen Joel live through this once before.

“I ain’t mad at’cha baby. Jus’ open ‘em for me.”

Joel is begging you—if you can hear him, he can’t will himself to bring his fingers to your neck or wrist to feel your pulse point, petrified of feeling nothing.

His resolve crumbles when he sees Tommy, unable to stop.

“Joel.. Joel stop. Let me check, alright?” His voice hadn’t been this soft and insistent since he had pried his niece's cold body from Joel’s arms to bury her.

Joel falls backward onto the ground out of exhaustion, the ache in his chest is pressing upward into his throat, squeezing the life out of his oesophagus making him feel dizzy.

“She’s alive.” Tommy murmurs, turning to look at his older brother.

FOLLOWING MORNING

“You look like shit, Joel. Have you moved since we’ve been back?” He hears Tommy’s scornful voice, but he can’t bear to tear his eyes off of you. Watching the subtle rise and fall of the blanket that covers your chest.

“I ain’t movin’.”

Not an inch, not once did he allow his gaze to tear away from your chest, the proof that you were still alive. Some semblance of hope he was clinging onto that you would make it.

“You see her chest movin’?” He utters to his younger brother, seeking reassurance.

Without so much as a wink of sleep, he had begun wondering if he was hallucinating the faint movement from sleep deprivation.

“Course I do. You’re just tired.” Tommy reassured, holding out a mug of warm, black coffee.

Joel’s movements are piloted, automatic. Stiff as his arm lifts the mug to his lips, swallowing coffee with a bitter aftertaste of anxiety. The same heavy feeling builds in his chest for the second time he’d returned with you.

The pressure of his anxiety escalates, unable to focus his vision of you, or Tommy’s concerns he speaks, lungs stuttering and struggling to inhale as his hand begins to tremble.

Just shy of his fifties, Joel Miller was having a fucking panic attack. Again.

“Joel,” the weight of his younger brother’s hand digging into his shoulder with a firm grasp, withdraws him from his dissociative state, lying on his bed.

Tommy was staring down at Joel with a knowing expression. “She’s wakin’ up.” He repeats a second time.

Tommy and the coffee are long forgotten, set aside as Joel rises to his feet, looming over you in heavyset silence of anticipation and exigency.

His hands grasp onto your cheeks, cradling them as he lets out a long exhale of relief, staring into the familiar colour of your irises.

“Baby I thought you’d left me..” he utters shakily between the two of you, thick tears fall from his wet eyes down his face.

He watches as your dry lips part, a hoarse croak rolls off of your tongue in an attempt to speak.

“Don’t say nothin’, save your strength.”

His hands tighten around the small mug, tucking his thumb into the handle instead of four of his fingers, for the reason that his hands were too large to navigate the small curated gap.

Thoughtfully, he’d filled it only halfway with water and left it by your shared bed the previous evening, in the expectation of you regaining consciousness.

“Here,” he murmurs, with his free hand he urges you to tilt your head backwards. “There you go.”

Bringing the rim of his mug to your lips, he slowly tilts it upward until a small amount of water has seeped into your lips, allowing a small relief for the uncomfortably dry surface of your mouth.

The second time he encourages a little more, brushing the single few strands of hair from your face as you begin to sip on the water with a loud slurp.

When he’s satisfied you’ve had enough, he pulls the mug away and sets it back on the bedside table.

Your lips are tugged upward in a small smirk, the smallest huff of a laugh vibrates through your nose, and he raises an eyebrow.

“Straight back to annoyin’ me huh? Seems like my girl is feelin’ more like herself already.”

The coo sends your heart through an extra murmur, pulse erratically causing the flesh in your neck to pulsate.

“Know.. you..” your voice is strained, and hoarse from lack of water. “Love it.”

A hum reverberated through his throat in agreeance. Placing his hand on top of your own, clasping his fingers in between your own.

“I do love you.”

For a first confession, the words linger heavily in the air between you. An intense gaze is shared before you could process the weight behind them.

“I love.. you.” Taking a wheezing breath, you continue, the attempt to squeeze his fingers albeit weak—conveys the message. “Even if you.. cracked my ribs.”

His golden complexion reinforces a bright pink hue across his cheeks and ears. “Y’heard that, huh? I’m real sorry ‘bout it.”

Blinking lazily, you nod once, waving off his apology. “That an’ everything else.”

Continuing on from a brief pause, you place your second hand on top of his, grounding him, offering him a sense of security and reassurance he didn’t often receive as self appointed protector.

“You saved me.”

The look in your eye expresses deep gratitude and understanding, promising him that you wouldn’t end up like Sarah, that he would never have to endure pain like that ever again.

Not as long as you lived.

“No, baby. You saved me.”

There are many things you’ve saved Joel from, but he leaves them unspoken, because you know, whether or not he’s mentioned it—you know.

“Get some sleep Joel..”

He obeys, sliding under the thick duvet beside you in the bed you shared, unwilling to break the hold of your hands.

[freakaz0-id]

i will forever remember when I was playing tlou2 while my mom was watching and I was at the part at the farmhouse where ellie has the flashback of joel getting golf club'd, and my mom whole heartedly goes:

"was that the farmer ☹️❤️"

[adsari]

So you telling me that second time in my life I will have to watch beloved character played by Pedro Pascal die because of the head injury.

[starving-soulzz]

I’m expanding here on some logistical problems I had with Episode 2 of The Last of Us, but I’m also going to be mentioning some potentially triggering content with references to SA or any other type of physical trauma and I’m just trying to protect anyone from mentions they don’t want to see. It deals with the trauma of helplessness as well. Adult themes abound.

This is a little critical but not . . . not in a cruel way? This was just my take and confusion and anger that I needed to put somewhere or I was going to combust. It is a bit of an emotional analysis of the writing choices and the cause and effect of why this has disturbed some people, such as myself, to such a strong degree.

For some context for those that didn’t play the game, it was Joel and Tommy patrolling together that day. There was no attack on Jackson. Joel DID save Abby, they went back to her place and Tommy and Joel gave their own names.

Major criticisms at the time were why the hell would they save Abby, trust a situation where they were outnumbered and then just give away their names?

Now. The writers TRIED to account for that criticism. They added the scene in episode one where Joel is like, ‘fuck more people we gotta keep this ship afloat’ and Maria telling him 'You were a refugee once too' as if her saying that is going to change his fundamental survivalist nature in the final hour.

They also changed it to Dina being there because her calling Joel's name is much more forgivable and this is the only change that worked as far as I can tell.

Because the other big change is the attack on Jackson. The hope the writers had, I think, is that Joel would be so distracted by it that he wouldn't notice the walls closing in around him.

The problem with that is a fundamental lack of understanding about trauma response and Joel himself.

He survived so long because when he's under pressure he becomes MORE discerning, not less. We saw it all through season one. Hyper vigilance is a trauma response, and one we have seen in him, meaning he should have picked up on Abby's general weirdness and especially on her insisting that they get to the lodge so her friends could help. The Joel we know, would have been like, "Who are these people and why the fuck would they even want to help?"

And this is all outside of the logistical trouble that the writers went to some lengths to prove how useful Joel is with his contracting knowledge so he appears to be if not THE lead contractor at least one of them and it's heavily implied that he's the most knowledgeable. So why the hell would they send that guy out, deaf in one ear, old as shit, valuable as hell, on a routine patrol?

Same with Tommy, though I’m not sure he does patrol in the show and I can’t bring myself to re-watch it to check , he is out with Ellie though at one point in the first episode, outside the walls?. . . anyway, he obviously has respect and his loss would create a power vacuum which is a dangerous thing in a fragile system like Jackson. It just feels like sending your generals out to dig latrines across enemy lines. It makes no sense???

I do allow that Joel might have insisted on patrol but I find that easier to believe of game Joel than the softer show version. Show Joel is very aware of how his hearing is a liability and it was proven to him twice in season one by not hearing the kid that almost killed him in Kansas City and sleeping on the wrong side when Henry and Sam got in.

I know from a writing standpoint that Neil Druckman needed to create a righteous fury in Ellie to tell the story that he wanted to and yes, killing Joel was the only way to do that, but, in effect, he manipulated the narrative to go against common sense and characterization to force the result he needed, rather than finding a way that actually made sense for the character.

And I hate to say it, because of how well crafted Season 1 was, and how beautifully character led, but essentially? This was bad writing. And I think maybe this is part of the reason so many people are feeling particularly betrayed here.

And it frustrated THE FUCK out of me. Because it's so unnecessary? Like knowing all of this the question then becomes, but why was THIS the story that needed to be told with the second game?

The first game was beautiful in that it found light in the darkness and ways toward healing, at great cost but still, the light was there, the hope, the possibility of love and safety and even the loss of that hope is covered when Joel himself snuffs out the Fireflies and the literal hope for humanity in the potential for a cure. It was already there.

But then the individual hope, the light that Jackson represents, the whole relationship between Joel and Ellie . . . the moments of brightness and the potential to not be a victim to your trauma for the rest of your life.

Then the second story comes in just to say "HAHA J/k actually there is no hope and we all end up sad and alone, buried in or killed by our trauma, and nothing we do has any purpose actually?"

Like, fuck off?? And the reason I’m so adamant about that point is because. . . of what follows, probably.

I’m going to be careful with my language here because I don’t want to assume anyone elses experience, and I don’t want to assume that its just a specific type of trauma that this might touch on. I also might be completely insane so there’s also that. Like I’m allowing that I’m maybe the only person that experienced this this way, and that’s fine too.

I’ve thought, at length, about how Joel potentially became a stand in for some survivors, maybe particularly of SA, that never had anyone say, "It's ok. I've got you." His holding Ellie after she’s faced the potential of that created this little space where safety could exist for some survivors on a deep elemental level especially because so many of us, after any type of trauma, didn’t have that right after . . . or never had it at all.

And in the end, this feels like the most fucked up part of it all because the way this was done, the way he was killed, was almost designed to re-traumatize people? Holding Ellie down and not letting her stop what was happening? Massively triggering for so many people who actually have been held down and unable to stop what was happening.

And this is an aside but it’s something like 45% of women and 65% of men that were sexually assaulted develop PTSD. Veterans who saw combat? A generalization there is 4-17% develop it, with some sources putting that number as high as 31.6%. The common thread? The soldiers that were disarmed or held down, unable stop what was happening, these were the ones much more likely to develop the disorder.

This place is full of people asking days later, "Why am I still so fucking upset over this?" And again, I am not assuming anyone’s experience but maybe, it's not his death really.

Well, it is, to a degree, but also he wasn’t just a character. He was a place of safety that we never had. It's that sense of safety that he represented being brutally ripped away, not just from Ellie, but from a great many other people that he came to take the space for. The space they needed to feel safe in a world where many people, maybe especially traditionally masculine men?, don't listen about trauma and don't make space to even say, "I'm here."

I’ll get a little more personal past this point so feel free to stop here if you’ve gotten this far.

I used to get sensory flashbacks of what happened to me and for a week after I would be a mess, feeling as if the event had just happened all over again. I’ve done the work and so much therapy and they are rare now. But that sick feeling, like I’ve just been hurt like that? I’ve had it all week.

And look, yes. I understand that I’m responsible for the content I consume. But season one gave me a gift before I knew how it was going to end. And I find myself now, despite my mind, because trauma functioning doesn’t deal in logic, spending this time now casting about for a new anchor for safety.

Because until this week? I didn’t realize how deeply this had rooted into me. The safety he represented. I understood it logically but now I’ve got the mess of recovery and trying to make sense of my own emotions and logic doesn’t really live in your guts. The way that moment in a show became a part of my trauma recovery architecture wasn't something I could control either. So to say I simply shouldn't care so much about fictional works or whatever, doesn't really work? It was an instinctual salve for a person who was living in fear.

This is actually the most vulnerable thing I’ve ever written and posting it is daunting as hell. I almost feel guilty for it. Apologetic for my own emotions. But to pretend that it didn’t affect me this way? That’s not honest. And not a way I’m interested in living anymore.

[tlou-bombshell]

I got so heartbroken when I realized that Ellie's fear of being alone is not only emotional, but physical.

Just imagine being so horrendously scared of yourself, that you cannot even trust you, to you.

Silently, but desperately begging everyday to have someone physically around you, so you're safe from yourself, not even from others.

Day after day, until you reach the point where you no longer care how far that person is emotionally, as long as it's protecting you, from the monster you became to yourself.

So, yes. Fucking heartbreaking if you ask me.

(not my picture, got it from pinterest)

[thebeldroramscal]

WIP Wednesday!

I WON’T EXPLAIN THE CONTEXT OF THIS CONVO….As usual, plucked from the belly of my wip,  maybe  ch11?, WHO KNOWS!

The melancholy is REAL with me today so I thought I’d post some plot.  And some tears. This is pretty much a monologue from Joel after some heavy shit goes down!

I'm always down for @legendary-pink-dot and @for-a-longlongtime things. But you're reading this, consider yourself tagged. I have no friends 'round here so jump aboard the Ramscal express and post yer WIPS! OOPS!!! Forgot to put in CW: I am SO sorry! Here we go: Talks of attempted self death. Loss and grief. And a whole buncha tears.

He was sitting on the ground, back leaning against the wall, forearms propped on his knees. He’d found a piece of string and was fiddling with it while he figured out what to say.

You sat on the ground opposite him. Not too close—he needed his space—but close enough that he didn’t feel ostracized.

“The next day, there was no reason for me anymore. So I tried, but I fucked up.” He paused, shaking his head. “I fucked it up.”

A brief silence. Then— “I was in the med bay for a while, saw all these people. Injured people. Working people. People fighting to stay alive, to move forward. And I couldn’t comprehend why.”

He exhaled through his nose, eyes cast downward, studying the tiny rocks on the ground.

“I was sitting there with this wound, another constant reminder, and all these feelings. Too many feelings."

“Grief.” He clenched his jaw and scoffed. “We didn’t have the luxury to grieve. It all got channelled into survival, into anger, into evil…” His voice trailed off.

“The guy in the med bay next to me—the one you’ve noticed at work—he knew I had no one. So he offered me a place with him. What else was I supposed to do? I left with him. Became part of his faction.”

Tears were running down Joel’s face, his eyes so full of sadness that one blink sent a cascade down his cheeks. You could see the ground beneath him, darkened where his tears had fallen. His voice remained quiet, unnervingly steady. A dissonance between what you saw and what you felt.

Your heart broke for him. But at the same time, he was so, so beautiful in the soft light.

“We all had stories,” he said, shifting his feet, making the briefest eye contact with you. “But we barely knew each other’s names, let alone talked about how we got there. Why we were there. What we had lost.  Who we had lost…” He took a brief pause.” That was the one thing we all had in common. Loss. And with that loss came anger. And it was anger that kept us alive.”

“I was their builder. I had my job. I knew my place. I just got up and did what I was told.”

He swallowed hard.

“We were about twenty men. All fuelled by anger, resentment, and pain. Every day, we came back having seen more shit, done more shit.  That does strange things to a group. A tribe. Things changed slowly, so slowly you don’t notice how far you’ve strayed. Winters were cold. We had no food. We became hateful men. Bad men.”

He dug his fingers in to his thighs.. “If you start starving someone like that, their blood turns black. I did—Jesus, the things I did—”

Joel rubbed his furrowed brow, squinting, as though he could see the things he was describing. You weren’t going to interrupt. He needed this catharsis. What happened between the two of you was put on the back burner.

Things were falling into place in your mind, and the picture being pieced together was so fucking sad.

“I eventually lost sight of what I was trying to hold onto in the first place. When I broke away from the group and could finally breathe, my past was buried so deep down I had no idea how to find it.”

His breath shook.

“All of that violence. All those lives. Families. It was all for nothing.”

You sat in silence. Joel was crying. Hard. But you stayed back, both for your own safety and to let him grieve uninterrupted.

“I left the med bay all those years back with deep sadness, but I still had a sliver of hope. When I left that group?” He shook his head. “All I had was blood. So much blood on my hands.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “...so much fucking blood.”

[Add in reader observations, body language, parallel imagery with Jackson Joel’s monologue. Water dripping onto the floor?]

A long silence.

“I can't remember what she looked like.” His voice cracked. “How she smelled. The last thing I said to her.”

He shook his head, tearing at the piece of ribbon in his hand. “It was all washed away. Her smile, the sound of her voice—all those memories. Replaced by death. Torture. Burning carcasses.”

He exhaled sharply. “All of that shit was justified under the veil of survival.”

“I've lost her spirit, y'know?”

His eyes met yours. All you could see was anguish, regret and sadness.

You hadn’t seen this side of Joel very often and never at this level. He was emotionally naked. What could you do but cry in empathy for all the pain and suffering he carried?

You went against your instinct to stay away from him and you slid closer, settled between his legs, facing him.

Joel immediately grabbed your hand and pressed it to his chin. His breath trembled.

Then—he broke.

His shoulders shook, and for the first time, he cried audibly.

“I’d give anything for just one happy memory to hold on to. One more breath of her hair. One memory of a birthday hug.” His grip tightened around your hand and you moved in to cradle him. “I can't reach it. I can't touch the goodness because there’s too much badness in the way.”

His body shuddered.

“I am so sorry.”

“So sorry.”

He swallowed past the lump in his throat..

“I don’t know how we can come back from this.”

[fanfictilltheend]

PLEASE REBLOG AND VOTE BC i need to know if i should actually write this❤️‍🔥

[sunnygrey99]

~Trigger Warning: Typical TLOU warnings. Self Harm, suicidal tendencies, severe mental illness, PTSD (minors DNI) If any other Triggers apply please let me know.~

Story Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Violence, Murder, Death, Smut

A/N: Just another reminder please if you are suffering or need help Tumblr offers resources that can really help.

Wordcount: 2,094

Summary: Plus size!Reader is a Beekeeper and Medical Scientist living in Jackson. A simple meeting of a new friend slowly becomes so much more. Reader is immune. Reader is given a nickname. (This fic will have very dark tones though out. This deals with the unfortunate reality that men do disgusting things to women regardless of the world having ended. All chapters will include warnings and tag warnings. Please take care in reading.)

Hushed tones of a familiar voice pulls you from your deep slumber. Frozen to your spot your ears slowly start to pick up more of what the young girl is saying. “Do you think she’ll do it again?”Another female voice speaks in a soft tone, “I’m not sure. She hasn’t had an episode like this one before. It was different than the last time.” The other voice chimed in again quickly. “Last time? What happened last time?” “Well she doesn’t like us talking about it but last time she was outside the walls…” The woman’s voice cracks slightly. “Look I can’t talk about it. Just know there is a reason she isn’t on the patrol rotation and its not just because we need her here in town.”

A more masculine voice pulls your attention, “Is there anything we can do to keep this from happening again?” He sounded almost angry, and when the woman whispers out a tired “I don’t know” He grunts in return.

You try your hardest to force yourself to open your eyes, tell them it won’t happen again. You know you can’t though. No matter how much you wanted it to be true it would never be a guarantee. Slowly the voices dull back into a muffled lullaby as you fall back into unconsciousness.

It feels like only minutes later you hear a soft shuffling noise next to you. Your eyes slowly blink open, perfectly in view is Ellie and Joel. Ellie dealing out cards between Joel and herself. The smallest smile graces her lips as she lays out the first card. Joel placing his down and swiping the pile as he chuckles at the girl. “Why are you always so sure you are gonna beat me.”

They each put another card down this time Ellie swiping the cards to her side, “Because I will.”

You watch for the next ten minutes as the two go back and forth until Ellie snags the last card up for herself. She excitedly cheers and throws the last of her hand down. “And that Joel…It how you win at war.”

“Yeah with pure luck kiddo.” He chuckles at the indignant expression she dawns. You can’t help the giggle that comes out of your own mouth, however the sudden pain in your abdomen has you sucking in a hiss. You hear two chairs screech across the floor as you clutch gently at the affected area.

“Hey now take it easy.” Joel’s large hands find their way to your hand and shoulder. Instantly grounding you back into reality.

You feel both Ellie and Joel’s hands resting yours. Its a calming enough feeling to pull your attention back to them. Confusion written all over your own face as you take in the concerned look carried by the other two. Your eyes flicking between them then back to yourself laying in the hospital bed. You take a moment to soak in your surroundings before looking back to Joel. “What happened? Is…Is everyone else okay?”

Joel and Ellie’s features soften to a sadness that you hadn’t seen on either of them, almost bordering on pity. He turns to Ellie for only a moment whispering to her. Her tense shoulders drop and she scuffs. “Fine.” She turns her attention back to you and gives your hand another squeeze, “I’ll be back Bunny, I’m gonna let Maria and Tommy know you are awake”

You nod to her and squeeze her hand back as well as possible with Joel’s still covering your’s and Ellie’s. You watch as she leaves still confused as to what happened. Finally you remember the warmth of the other hand covering yours and the heavy weight of another on your shoulder, his thumb rubbing slightly in an attempt to comfort. Looking back up to Joel you see the same sad look still glued to his features yet an underlining anger in his eyes.

He sucks in a breath before stepping away and sliding a chair back over to the side of the bed so he can sit. “What is the last thing you remember?”

You immediately miss the warmth of his comforting touch on your skin. You look back up to the ceiling trying to think back to the last thing you remembered. It took a moment of hazy thought, “We were all sat eating at my dining room table. Ellie, Tommy, and Maria were there too.” You chuckled lightly at the thought of what happened after. “Tommy was telling us about how when you were little you use to pretend to be a country star and you’d make Tommy play plastic pales as drums. It was really sweet.” Letting your head fall to the side and look back to Joel. The furrow in his brow deep set. His eyes lock onto yours.

“Bunny that was over four weeks ago. You’ve only been out for a couple days.” His words sink quickly in and a heavy weight sets in your chest.

Heat blooms in your eyes as burning tears start pouring from them. A quiet no falling from your own lips. “Joel…” Your quiet call ensures his tense gaze stays locked on yours. “…please tell me…I didn’t hurt anyone…right?”

His hand quick to reach out to yours again. “You didn’t hurt anyone” He reaches his other hand out lightly wiping away the stinging tears on your cheeks. His hand then settling on your forehead as he brushes back a few hairs. “You stopped yourself before that could happen.” He nods down to your abdomen that was currently covered by a familiar blanket. Dark greens and creams that made you forget for just a second that you were in the clinic, however reality came back to you quickly as you looked back to Joel.

A thousand questions running through your mind. “Who found me? Was I…was I already…” You sucked in a breath clearly overwhelmed by the new information.

Joel takes that as a cue to squeeze your hand again and answer what he can. “I found you. Maria, Tommy and the Doc were waitin’ outside. You weren’t really you right then. You seemed real scared, throwing things and ya had a knife in your hand. After a few you calmed down and I tried to take the knife from you. Must have pushed a wrong button because not even a minute later you were on the ground bleedin’ out.” He pauses for a moment hoping he can keep the retelling at a minimum. He doesn’t seem to want to be talking about it either.

You nod and squeeze his hand back, fresh tears flowing down your face. “I’m so sorry Joel. I never wanted anyone to see that part of me again.”

“You ain’t got nothing to apologize for. Doc said its some sort of PTSD. There’s no controlling that, but you aren’t alone Bunny.” His eyes soften the anger replaced completely but something else you can’t quite read. His hand on your forehead moving to wipe away the tears again. “I can’t fix that but I sure can try to help.”

His hand finally rests cupping your cheek with a thumb gently rubbing the warm skin. You feel yourself press further into his gentle touch. Never would you have thought that a man like him could be so gentle and kind to another. It feels as if time stops as you look up to Joel’s eyes in that moment. The whole world melting away with his promise.

Quickly the two of you are reminded of the rest of the world as a knock comes at the door before it opens. Maria, Tommy, and Ellie all filing in and around the bed. Joel having already pulled back gets up and offers his chair to Maria. She gratefully accepts and slowly eases into the chair. Her attention immediately back on you. Her hand quickly meeting yours. Her warmth replacing what was left by Joel.

The next few hours are spent by everyone filling you in on the last four weeks trying to keep things light. You feel the weight that had been settled in your chest slowly ease up over the time they spend there. The Doc coming in near the end of the visit to take your vitals and check in with you before he pulls Maria and Joel to speak in his office. While you find that odd you focus on the current story Ellie is telling you about school and her new friend’s shenanigans.

~~~

Joel is on high alert as he stands by the door in Doctor Hector Grimm’s office. The doctor sitting in his chair while Maria sat across him in the old upholstered chairs. He pulls out a stack of files and lets out a harsh sigh as he looks between Joel and Maria. “I know you both have been through a lot in the last few days. Bunny surviving that wound was nothing short of a miracle and it almost has me questioning if there really is a god. Now that being said her previous diagnosis should have been given a more strict treatment plan. There is no easy way to say this. I believe Bunny needs full time care. She cannot live alone anymore.”

Joel feels himself tense. He had no idea you had been so badly affected by your ailment. Maria scoots forward more in her chair. “What? What do you mean? She can still function and take care of herself. We just need to get her some medication and get her to talk to someone.”

Dr. Grimm shakes his head, “I’m sorry Maria it doesn’t work like that, not anymore. This is an incredibly rare manifestation of CPTSD. For her to be having suicidal tendencies brought on by visual and auditory hallucinations is extreme even by old world standards. If we were still in the old world they’d have her committed to a full time care facility. We don’t have that luxury-”

“Luxury?” Maria stands and slams a hand on his desk. Joel stands up straight and uncrosses his arms at the sudden rise in tension. “This is Bunny we are talking about not a damn dog.”

His hands go up in defense as he moves back, “I’m not trying to offend, I am just trying to be realistic about her treatment options. This is the only option I can see without her ending up right back here every 3 to 6 months.”

Maria sighs and sits back down. “I can have her move in with me and Tommy when she is released.”

“I can’t let you do that either. You are about to have a baby in the house. That is already going to be stressful for you not to mention it could be a stress trigger for her.” He leans back and crosses his own arms. “Its gotta be someone she knows and can be there over nights. Maybe not necessary 24/7 but at least the majority of the time.”

“She doesn’t know that many people at all and you know how much she values her solitude.” Maria plops back further in her seat in exasperation.

Joel takes a few moments to soak up all the new information. He takes a step forward. “Ellie and I can do it. That way if I’m not there at least Ellie is.”

Maria looks over at Joel “Are you sure you’d want to do that?”

He nods before looking back to the Doctor. “How long are we talkin’?”

Grimm sighs before looking at the file in front of him. “Recovery like this can take a lifetime. She may not need it permanently but we should operate under the assumption it will be. This is more than just CPTSD so once we get the rest of the treatment plan figured out her condition will be a lot more manageable on her own. This is simply a precaution.”

They all agreed then on the course of action. Joel and Ellie will move in with Bunny. That way she is in familiar surroundings with people who are able to help before she gets to the point she was a couple days ago. Dr. Grimm going over how to effectively talk her down in the event she loses grip on reality. After all was said and done Maria went to break the news to Bunny and Joel went to Bunny’s to finish cleaning up the home so she didn’t have to look at the remnants of her breakdown. It was going to be an adjustment process for sure.

Part 5 Coming Soon

If you would like to be tagged in my works please feel free to message me and let me know who/what fandoms you’d like to be tagged in. I plan to write for at least The Walking Dead, Shameless(US), Marvel(MCU and Comics), DC(All), Teen Wolf and The Last of Us

Tag list <3

@gwendibleywrites

[raspberrybesitos]

wip wednesday

ty for the tag @mandoisapunk 🫶🏼

a snippet of Habitual Sin, my Joel fic that was inspired by Religion by Lana Del Rey

tw ptsd, religious imagery

putting under a cut to be safe!

-

“Don’t be a fucking dick, Joel,” you nearly whisper. “You think I really meant that shit back there? We just fuck once in a while to let off steam. Told you not to get fuckin’ attached, ‘s your problem. Not mine,” he spits, grabbing his jacket and throwing it on.

“You don’t gotta be fucking mean about it, you asshole!” You shout. “Will you shut the fuck up?! Gonna wake up the whole goddamn neighborhood,” he hisses.

“So you’re telling me you really didn’t mean at least a small part of those words, Joel?!” You shout, sniffling as you bite back your tears, refusing to let him see you cry.

“Nope, not a single fuckin’ word.” His chest heaves, his jaw clenched as he stares into your eyes. Your bottom lip wobbles, unable to keep your composure as you swallow thickly. “Fuck you,” you mumble.

“Already did, sweetheart,” he rasps. Your brows pinch together as a stray tear escapes and rolls down your cheek. “Get the fuck out!” You shout, pointing to the door. “Gladly,” he snips, stomping off down the stairs and slamming the door hard as it rattles the house. The sound making you jump as you sink to the floor, burying your face in your hands, sobs wracking your body.

How stupid of you to think you could possibly have anything with Joel. What a silly fantasy to even dream of being loved by him. Your love for him, a seed planted to be sown, now reaped into a fruitless tree - a tree Joel’s hacked down and set ablaze.

-

this is definitely the heaviest fic i’ve ever written, as it contains themes of loss, religious trauma, and PTSD

full transparency, writing this has been cathartic for me. navigating my PTSD diagnosis has been a roller coaster, but writing is working wonders for me so far

release date is tbd <333

npt @undrthelights @javierpena-inatacvest @pascalpvnk @nostalxgic @party-hearses @tinygarbage @bastardmandennis @joelsgreys + whoever else wants to join!! 🫶🏼

feel free to ignore i’m so late to this 😭

[mariatesstruther]

the millers with learning disabilities!!!!!! lets go!!!!!

joel and tommy being dyslexic and hypercalculiac, so while they both don’t really fuck with reading, they’re insanely good at math and do estimations for carpentry work crazy fast

sarah is the opposite: she has dyscalculia and hyperlexia, so she struggles quite a bit with math but reads at a crazyyyyyyyy impressive speed and level. homegirl is reading tommy and joel’s old copies of their highschool required reading by sixth grade, and all of toni morrison’s books before she’s out of high school. she runs her school’s first book club and gets straight-a’s (with help on her math homework from tommy in the mornings, of course)

[lionlena]

Let me clear something!!!

I was born to be Joel's service dog. I literally watched every episode of TLoU with: I have to hug him, he's so stressed… Oh, he kills people because he's stressed, I have to comfort him. Oh, he's grumpy because he's sad, I have to cheer him up…

Joel: WTF! Why are you hugging me?! Me: Because I feel your stress, and that's my job…. Joel:… Me: 🥺 Joel: Because I'm shooting infected right now! Me: Still hugging him and smiling. Joel: Whatever…

[hessofather]

header and dividers by @saradika-graphics

Series:

White Trash Demons(Also a link to my AO3): I'm just writing about family stories and my life. Sad, happy, funny, painful. There is one thing that all these memories have in common. It all screams white trash. Maybe I'm using this as a way to cope. Maybe nobody will ever read this. But if you are, please, go grab your cigarettes and boones farm strawberry wine with ice in it, and enjoy the rollercoaster of events that I call my life.

Dieter Bravo:

Popping Your Coke Cherry(smut)

Joel Miller:

Dirty Little Secret(smut)

Too Sweet for Me(part 2 of Dirty Little Secret/smut)

[anavatazes]

And he's yanked me right back outta the Pike Puddle!

Le sigh 🫠

[thebeldroramscal]

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck. I'm so glad its my bed time.

Can Y'all tell me how im supposed to handle this pic??? because I cannnt🥴

[overdueforarevival]

Whumptober Day 18 - All Over (Not Meant To Be)

Revenge | Unreliable Narrator | Loss of Identity

Summary: Joel is dead, the world is falling apart and Ellie can only think of one way to fix it. Kill Abby Anderson. For over a year, this is all she can think of, the only solution she can find to make it better. But would Joel agree?

Also posted to AO3

It’s over. Abby got away, Ellie let Abby get away and Jesse's dead, Tommy’s not speaking to anyone, and Dina… Dina’s puking her guts up over the toilet bowl. It happens every morning and Ellie drags herself out of bed to hold back her hair and rub her back, just like Joel used to when she was sick. Ellie wonders if Joel hated doing it as much as Ellie does, if he used to wish she’d just shut up and pack it in.

It’s not Dina that she’s mad at, though. It’s the damn parasite sitting in her girlfriend’s stomach that made her abandon her quest for revenge. Ellie had a plan, she knew what she was doing and she was going to see it through but Dina begged her to come home. She didn’t have anyone left, not with Jesse dead and Ellie… Ellie couldn’t say no.

So here she sits, on her knees on the bathroom floor, holding back her girlfriend’s hair, all the while wishing she were anywhere else. It’s not right that she can’t do this one thing for Joel. He murdered hundreds of people for her, swore his life to be for her and here she is wasting it away.

‘Sorry,’ Dina pants, spitting the last of the bile in her throat into the toilet.

‘Don’t be,’ Ellie sighs, reaching up and handing her a glass of water from the sink. ‘Not your fault,’

Dina offers a half-hearted grin. ‘We’ll blame Jesse,’

‘Weren’t we already?’ Ellie points out, trying to find some humour in her voice, but it just sounds dead, even to her own ears. Dina looks at her with that stupid, sad look she always has now.

Ever since they reached the gates of Jackson and Ellie insisted that she couldn’t go in, panic-stricken at the thought of a Jackson without Joel, Dina's had that look in her eye. A Jackson without Joel and a world where Abby Anderson is still breathing, the fuckwit bastard and Ellie… Ellie is doing nothing. She should be out there, hunting Abby down and wringing the girl’s neck, twisting it until it snaps between her hands. For Joel and Tommy, for Jesse, and for everyone else who was hurt because of Abby. All the people Ellie hurt because of Abby.

It’s all her fault. If she hadn’t hurt Joel, none of this would be happening. They’d have watched their movie and she’d tell Joel how badly she wishes they could go back to how things were, even if she knew they never could. He’d apologise and ask how he could fix it because that’s what Joel did. He fixed things. He fixed everything.

And now everything is broken and Joel isn’t here to fucking fix it.

Dina found a farm for them to live on, a few miles out from Jackson so they’ve always got help if they need it and Dina goes shopping there every week. Ellie stays at home, sometimes she’ll go out to see the sheep and every night she’ll sit on the front porch, convincing herself that the hand she feels on her shoulder isn’t real. Joel isn’t here. Not anymore.

Time passes by agonisingly slow and still Ellie does nothing. She herds sheep, smiles at their son, and bounces him on her lap but every time she looks at him, held in her hands, she wishes it were Abby. Wishes she had Abby in her hands like fucking putty and she could snap her in two. One day, she’s so sure that it’s Abby in her hands and all she wants is to squeeze the damn thing so hard it explodes. If Dina hadn’t walked in to hear JJ screaming in her arms, Ellie’s hand hovering just over his throat, she’s not sure what she’d have done. Dina doesn’t leave Ellie alone with the baby much anymore.

Ellie can’t blame her.

After time Ellie comes to love JJ as her own, she’s not sure there ever was a world where she wouldn’t; nobody could look at the boy’s chubby face and not want the best for him. Not want to protect him so fiercely that she finally understands why Joel did what he did. Only now, holding her own child and knowing she would do anything, even make him hate her, to keep him safe, does the anger she still holds for Joel dissipate. All she feels now is grief. Bitter and unending, clinging to every memory and every thought in her mind.

It slowly gets better. Sort of. Ellie doesn’t see Abby’s face everywhere she goes, doesn’t wake up, and fall asleep with that awful rage deep in her chest. It settles in her stomach, lighter and less noticeable but still there. She doesn’t see Abby, but Ellie does see Joel. Everywhere she turns, he’s glaring at her, telling her that after everything he did for her, the least she could do is kill Abby. Go through with it and finish the job.

But deep down, Ellie knows she can’t. If it weren’t for Dina, holding her together and telling her how to put one foot in front of the other every second of the day, Ellie would be falling apart. Dina can’t fix things like Joel used to, but she can hold her together while Ellie figures it out. And right now Dina is holding all of Ellie’s pieces in her hands, offering them up one at a time for Ellie to superglue back into place.

The superglue isn’t strong enough, though, and just as quickly as Dina is handing Ellie the pieces of herself, they continue to fall away from her. It’s no use; there’s only one thing that can fix this and Ellie doesn’t think she’s going to sleep until it's done.

And then Tommy shows up, one eye and hell-bent on revenge that he can’t exact, begging Ellie to do it for him, pleading for her to strike Abby down. Ellie wants to say no, she should say no because she knows what it’ll do to Dina if she leaves. Knows that Dina needs Ellie as much as Ellie needs her and knows that in the last year of living on this farm, she hasn’t done half the shit Dina needs from her. Ellie should stay and grow old with Dina, watch their baby boy grow up, and tell him every day how much she loves him. Every night she’ll fall asleep next to Dina, whispering soft ‘I love you’s in the dark, holding each other while they fall asleep. But when has anything in Ellie’s life been soft? When has she had anything other than pure, unadulterated violence? Ellie was stupid to think that she could have anything else. Tommy needs her to do this and Joel needs her to do this. Most of all, Ellie needs herself to do this. She must be the one to plunge a knife deep into Abby Anderson’s heart, or tear her throat out with her fingernails or throw her from some cliffside.

Ellie leaves.

Dina pleads.

JJ cries.

Tommy smiles.

Joel would have smiled, Ellie thinks. It’s hard to be sure, though, because she can’t quite remember what a smile looked like on his face. Sometimes, she has to ask Dina the colour of Joel’s eyes, or just how much taller he was than her. Nobody can remind her of how he would sound, though, nothing can bring back the faded memory of his voice.

She used to fall asleep to that voice, used to ask him to read to her until she fell asleep because it was the only way she could be sure he wouldn’t leave. He never would. And then he did. Joel left and now Ellie is trekking across the country, determined to kill anyone in her path, find the woman who took everything from her, and beat her to a pulp. Smash her to bits like she did to Joel and make her friends watch, make them know how it feels. But she won’t make the same mistake Abby did. She’ll kill them too.

Every last one of them.

Ellie holds herself to that promise, she repeats it every day and every night, swearing up and down that once she is finished, a sea of blood will carry her away into victory. Everybody will be dead and Ellie will be drenched in their blood. Maybe that will fix this gaping hole in her chest.

When she finds Abby, she hardly recognises her. Gone is the monster she’s built up in her head, her muscles have weakened significantly, her hair has been cut off and her blood has already spilled. Ellie lets her down, and the boy she’s travelling with. It’s perfect, she thinks as she leads them to the sea, this child will watch her die and he will know how it feels. Abby will know the pain Joel felt and this child will know what it did to her. And then he will die too. This time, there will be no survivors.

Abby doesn’t want to fight her, but Ellie won’t have it any other way and it feels good. It feels good when Abby clocks her around the jaw and a tooth goes flying from her mouth. The blood tastes good in her mouth and the pain of her fingers being bitten off feels good.

Abby’s blood soon coats Ellie’s knuckles, they’re both soaked to the skin from the seawater, Ellie can taste the salt on her tongue. It stings in her wounds and Ellie revels in the pain. Finally, she can feel something other than the hole in her chest. Finally, Abby has met her match.

And then she’s on top of Abby, holding the girl under the water as she struggles, trying to push Ellie off but to no avail. The boy is sleeping, he isn’t watching. He needs to be watching. Ellie should go wake him up, but then what if Abby gets away?

It’s alright, Ellie will just tell him all about it afterward and then she’ll kill him. He’ll still know how she felt and Abby will still be dead. So she doesn’t let up, revelling in the struggling form below her, hoping she doesn’t pass out too soon so she can watch for just a little longer.

Joel will be watching, he’ll be looking down on her and watching her every move. He never really left, he wouldn’t do that to her. Ellie has always known that Joel would be watching her and she’s always imagined him to be smiling, even if she can’t conjure an accurate picture of the idea. His glare of disappointment will turn into a smile now that he can see his killer brought to justice.

But Joel has never looked at her in disappointment before. He’s never been upset by a thing she’s done, not when she screamed at him in front of the whole town, not when she shoved him away, not when she begged him to leave her alone. Not when she poured bleach over her arm without asking for help first, not when she killed a man in a burning diner all those years ago. Joel Miller has never once been angry at Ellie, no matter what she has or hasn’t done.

He wasn’t glaring at her in disappointment every time he saw her on the farm. Perhaps it was something more. Perhaps it was sadness, that ache Tommy once told her about, his desire to have given her a better life, that his wrongs would never haunt her. A dream that she would never have to do half the things he did.

Joel never wanted her to have to do this. Never wanted her to kill, to maim, to torture. Never wanted her to lose her mind like he did, to lose one person and decide that the world has collapsed. The world didn’t collapse, Ellie pulled it down around her and buried everyone else while she stood on top of the rubble, watching them suffocate.

Her fingers fall lax around Abby’s neck and she’s flung backwards in the water, blood pooling around her hand where it rests in her lap, just below the water. Abby is coughing and choking, trying to spit up all the water in her lungs. Only now does Joel smile.

In the distance, he’s sitting in a boat on the sea, watching the two girls sitting, covered in each other’s blood and salty water. He never left her, just like he promised. Joel would never do that to her, even after everything she did to him, because of him.

Ellie doesn’t move as Abby leaves, taking Lev in the boat and motoring away, sending small waves to lap against Ellie’s stomach, trying and failing to wash away the blood and sweat that sticks to her. Everything aches, but it’s all background noise. It was all for nothing, Joel never would have wanted this for her, he’d have wanted her to be at home with Dina, raising their child. It’s all he’d ever wanted for himself. Not only did Ellie deny that to herself, but she tore herself away from Joel when he needed her, when he wanted her.

And now there is nothing Ellie or Joel can do to fix it. Everybody else is crawling out of the rubble of Ellie’s destruction and she sinks into it, staring down at her reflection in the rippling water below. Someone is staring back at her, someone will dull brown eyes and greasy, sweaty hair. Someone with blood all over her face and tears streaking through the grime. Someone Ellie doesn’t recognize. Someone she prays Joel isn’t disappointed by.

For over a year, revenge was the only path forward Ellie could see, the only cure to an incurable pain. It wouldn’t bring Joel back and it wouldn’t help her remember what his favourite shirt was, but she was so sure it could make it better. So sure that somehow, this pain could become easier to bear because there had to be something to make this pain go away.

Now Ellie knows there was never a way to make this better. In the end, it was just not meant to be.

[sunnygrey99]

Honey, Smoke, Lemon, and Oak Pt 3

~Trigger Warning: Typical TLOU warnings. Self Harm, suicidal tendencies, severe mental illness, PTSD, gore, psychological torture, slight implications of previous abuse/SA (minors DNI) If any other Triggers apply please let me know.~

Story Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Violence, Murder, Death, Smut

A/N: This is a rough chapter. I'm trying to be as accurate to an unpredictable mental illness as I can be. As someone who suffers from severe mental illness I do not take it lightly. Please if you are suffering or need help Tumblr offers resources that can really help.

Wordcount: 2,546

Summary: Plus size!Reader is a Beekeeper and Medical Scientist living in Jackson. A simple meeting of a new friend slowly becomes so much more. Reader is immune. Reader is given a nickname. (This fic will have very dark tones though out. This deals with the unfortunate reality that men do disgusting things to women regardless of the world having ended. All chapters will include warnings and tag warnings. Please take care in reading.)

Its been a couple weeks since Ellie started school. You missed her during the mornings but she never failed to show up after school even just to do her homework next to you as you worked. Joel of course still working in the barn and every once in awhile coming back up to where ever you and Ellie were to take breaks and check up on you both. It was nice seeing them but after they leave each night you could feel the anxiety and hurt edging back into you.

You haven’t slept in the last three nights and its starting to show. Today as soon as you open the door and greet Joel he is looking at you with a deep set concern.

“You doin’ alright today Miss Bunny?” His hand stretches out just about to touch you in case you need support.

You pull back fast and stumble slightly into the door frame, “I’m just fine, thank you.” You pull your arms across your chest and seem to shrink in on yourself. “You can take the day off if you want. I was going to spend today in the barn.”

Joel seems to take the information in and mulls it over for a moment. His concern still intensely written across his features. “I don’t think thats a very good idea-”

You interrupt him quickly, “I don’t need you telling me what I can and can’t do Mr.Miller. It is my job to make that medication. The town needs it.”

Joel’s features go from concern to confusion to anger in the blink of an eye. “I’m just tryin’ to look out for you. You look like you ain’t slept in a week and now you’re snappin’ at me.”

“I don’t need you to look out for me I said I’m fine. Leave.” With those words you slam the door and start pacing your home. You know its wrong the second the words leave your mouth. Its been months since you felt like this. The last time it happened it took weeks for you to come back from it. Maria found you and helped bring you back last time but at the cost of permanent damage to your friendship. You know she’ll never fully trust you again after that. You can’t let it happen to anyone else.

The next thirty minutes are spent by you locking and boarding up every window and door in the house. If no one can come in while you are like this then they wont get hurt.

~~~

Joel is dumbfounded and stands on your porch for five minutes trying to understand what just happened. He devolves into anger and annoyance and stalks off to find some other work to keep him busy for the day.

Another week passes and Joel finds himself at Maria and Tommy’s place helping them get ready for the new baby. Shes due in just a couple months and both Tommy and Maria are in a tizzy trying to make sure everything is ready for the new addition to the family.

“Ya know it doesn’t have to be perfect right Tommy?” Joel’s tone light and relaxed in the presence of family.

Tommy scuffs and rearranges the fabric diapers and towels again, “I know but I just want it to make sense. Its gonna be hard enough raising a kid in this world let alone having things disorganized once they get here.”

Joel chuckles at his brother, “It was a shitty world then and its a shitty world now, either way ain’t keepin that organized for more than a day when the kiddo gets here.”

Maria walks in then hand on her belly and the other carrying a small box of extra baby stuff. Tommy rushes over grabbing the box from her. “The Doc said not to lift anything and you should be in bed resting.”

“I can’t just lay in bed for the next few months and you know that. Besides the Doc said I can’t lift more than ten pounds. That’s less than eight.” Maria smiles at her husband and pats his cheek before giving him a small peck on the lips.

Joel watches the contentedness wash over their features. A sense of envy fills his own chest. He misses that feeling. Recognizing that he had something similar with Sarah’s mom before she left and he hadn’t felt that want since she did. He also feels a bit of jealousy at his brother having what he wishes he did when Sarah’s mom was pregnant. Joel hadn’t even known about Sarah until she was dropped off by a social worker when she was a week old. Most surprising of all is his sudden want for a chance at that again. He feels himself try to shake off the thoughts. Immediately replaced by the feelings of grief, sadness, and loss. Anger being the most present. The two others in the room oblivious to the change in Joel’s demeanor. Maria turns the Joel then, “So hows the barn coming along?”

Joel huffs and rolls his eyes at that, “Just fine till Bunny told me to fuck off.”

Maria looks over to Tommy with confusion and concern immediately written across her face. She looks back to Joel, “What do you mean she told you to fuck off?”

He simply shrugs. “Looked like she hadn’t slept in a few, asked her if she was alright…damn near chewed my head off for it. Told me to leave so I did.”

She takes a step closer the concern only worsening, “Joel this is very important. How long ago was this?”

He squints his eyes at her then his brother. He feels as if he is missing something important, like he doesn’t know something they do. His eyes shift back over to Maria, “A week ago.”

She curses under her breath before looking at Tommy. “You see her in the past week at all?” He simply shakes his head no. “Tommy we need to get the doc to her ASAP.” He nods and starts heading to the truck Maria right behind him.

Joel stands there confused for a moment lost in thought as to what might be the reason that the doc would be needed. He almost just brushes it off and lets them deal with it, but something in him is telling him to get a move on and help. Clearly something is wrong and Bunny needs help.

Its not even twenty minutes later they are all standing at the front door. Maria banging on the door with no answer. Joel peers into the window to see if there is any movement. “Looks like she’s got the windows and doors blocked from the inside. What the hell is goin’ on with her?”

Maria huffs as she paces the porch, “I should have known when she didn’t come over Tuesday. She never misses bringing me meds.”

“You didn’t tell me she didn’t drop those off.” Tommy voices from the bottom of the porch stairs.

“I still had meds I would have been fine. I thought she would just be by tomorrow when she drops off the rest to the clinic.” Maria walks back to the door again and calls your name. She tries again just a couple more times hoping your real name would coax you out sooner. They all hear a rustling around from inside the house and she calls for you again. “Bunny please, Its just me Maria. You can trust me remember? We have been best friends for a decade. You saved my ass from a hundred infected, supported me with governing Jackson. Sweetie I know you are in there please open up. We just want to know you are okay!”

Joel can see the tears prickling in Maria’s eyes. He hasn’t ever seen her this emotional and distressed even with the pregnancy hormones. He looks to Tommy and recognizes the same sad look in his eyes that he had when he himself had gone off the deep end. It suddenly struck him what was happening. That’s when they all hear the shattering of glass come from inside the house.

~~~

You’ve been pacing the bottom floor of the house for you don’t even know how long. Sleeping only in small increments when your body allows it. That voice creeping in slowly. His voice. Its been so long since you’d heard it but you remember the condescending tone anywhere. At first it sounded far away like he was yelling from the yard but then he was closer and closer. He always knows where you are in the house without actually being here. He sounds like hes in the walls now.

“Little girl, you can’t run away from me now…” His voice makes you tremble in fear. “I know where you are…I know your every thought.”

“no….no just….just leave me alone please. I’ve given you enough of me.” Your hands squeeze around the leather handle of your knife as you pace in the center of the living room.

“NO! I WANT IT ALL! YOU’RE MINE!” His voice echoes out. Its almost enough to cover the banging at your front door. That’s when you hear your name being called in a familiar, sweeter voice.

“Bunny please, Its just me Maria. You can trust me remember? We have been best friends for a decade. You saved my ass from a hundred infected, supported me with governing Jackson. Sweetie I know you are in there please open up. We just want to know you are okay!” The voice carried through the walls you had built up. You don’t remember this person, only a small spark of familiarity.

You walk to the front door hand out stretched yet hesitant to take down the furniture blocking the way. “Don’t you dare trust her. She just wants to steal you away from me. You don’t want that do you little girl? She’ll hurt you.” Your trembling hands pull back and reach to cover your ears, the blade from your knife brushing slightly against your cheek.

“She sounds nice, I think I know her.” Your voice just a hushed whisper.

“STUPID GIRL! You can’t trust anyone but me! I kept you safe all those years and THIS is how you repay me?” His voice booms as you stumble back some slicing open your cheek. “It looks like I need to teach you another lesson. A round of iron should teach you better.” Its then that you see him emerge from the wall. A fire poker in hand and red hot. You see his hands wring around the iron grip and a gleeful look in his otherwise dead eyes. The bullet hole in his forehead still oozing blood like the last time you saw him. And the same devious, wicked smile plastered on his face. As he inches forward you feel yourself pushed back into fight or flight mode. You reach to the nearest objects and start throwing them at him, hoping to deter him from coming any closer. Once hes only a few inches away you let out a blood curdling scream. Moments later furniture flies away from its barricade spot and the door breaks off its hinges.

A man you don’t recognize walks towards you in a hurry, light shining behind him as if he is some sort of angel. Unsure of what to make of the man you shuffle away. The man of your nightmares dissipated into thin air as the new man stops in his tracks. His movements much slower now as if trying to calm a scared and wild animal. You can see his lips move but you don’t hear any sound right away. The golden light behind him is almost blinding as it washes over the cold room. It warms your skin as you look down at yourself and see the light gracing your form. Looking back up at the man you smile. “Is it safe? Is he gone?”

The man kneels down in front of you and slowly nods. He reaches up and starts to take the knife from you. That’s when the light behind him starts to fade into an inky black. Panic quickly floods back into your system, and your grip hardens on the knife. “No! GET AWAY FROM ME!” You kick at him and scramble to move away. He lets go and steps back quickly.

“Bunny please, I promise I ain’t gonna hurt you.” He watches you intently and you in-turn watch him. The light and inky black fighting back and forth around the man. Swirling and mixing yet never quite touching. Your gaze still lays on his features with no trust. He waits on a few moments before speaking back up. “I’ll stay right here okay? I just need you to put the knife down.”

The panic quickly grows and your eyes flick from him to the knife and back to him. “I won’t let him or any other man get me again.” You quickly flip the knife back to yourself and plunge the knife deep into your abdomen.

As your body feels the sudden numbness pool in your abdomen reality crashes back in. Eyes locked with Joel’s as he stands there stunned. “Joel…I…” You look back down to your abdomen, “Oh god what…did I do?” Dropping to your knees, hands grabbing at the still plugged wound. Your hands smearing the dripping blood as you feel another pair of hands on you keeping you from fully falling to the ground.

You hear Joel’s voice calling out something. He sounds panicked but you can’t quite understand what he is saying. All the sound around you muffled as if you were stuck in a dream. The inky black that had been around Joel enveloping your own vision as you hear more voices get added to the muddled sound.

~~~

Joel yells out to the group on the porch, “Doc! We need the Doc in here!” He cradles your shoulders as he rocks you back and forth slowly. His other arm pulling your legs to get you laying more flat. The blood pouring out from your wound coats Joel’s clothes and hand. Your eyes only half open staring up at him, pupils blown wide. You try muttering something out and weakly raise your arm. He was quick to hold you and shush you. “It’s alright Miss Bunny, we are gonna fix this. Everything is going to be okay.”

Time seems to stand still for hours as he looked deep into your eyes. His own filling with tears he hadn’t realized he could have for anyone more than he already had. It was when your eyes rolled fully back and the doctor pulled you from his grip that he himself blacked out. The next thing Joel knew he was standing with Ellie next to your sleeping form in a hospital bed.

Ellie’s hand squeezing yours and silent tears rolling down her own face. Joel does the only thing he can think of to help. He pulls up two chairs and guides Ellie to sit still able to hold your hand. He barely catches the whisper that leaves her lips. “Please don’t abandon me too.” It instantly crushes Joel’s heart and all he can do is sit there with Ellie.

Part 4

If you would like to be tagged in my works please feel free to message me and let me know who/what fandoms you’d like to be tagged in. I plan to write for at least The Walking Dead, Shameless(US), Marvel(MCU and Comics), DC(All), Teen Wolf and The Last of Us