Chapter Text
The trees stretched endlessly, clawing at the sky with frost-covered limbs. Snow crunched beneath Joel’s boots, each step a fresh reminder of the wound that hadn’t healed. His breath plumed in ragged bursts, clouding the icy air before vanishing into the white expanse that stretched before him. He kept one hand pressed tight to his side, the other gripping the strap of his rifle. It was heavy. Everything felt heavy — his limbs, his chest, the weight of her name caught in his throat.
The cold burned in his lungs, and he stumbled as white-hot pain flared through him. His legs shook, and his vision blurred at the edges. His hand slipped from his side, and he fell to one knee, the snow rushing up to greet him.
His hands clenched into fists, knuckles white against the frostbitten ground.
Not yet.
He wouldn’t stop because he knew if he went down, there was a chance his body wouldn’t allow him to get back up.
Anger slipped into a haze of white and red, the world reduced to nothing but survival and the frantic whisper of her name in his mind. He had to find her. That’s what mattered. Protect her. With that thought and her face in his mind, he forced himself to his feet, teeth gritted against the agony flaring up his side.
That was when he saw the smoke. It bloomed over the tops of the trees, dark against the grey sky. His heart stuttered, and his steps faltered just for a second. His eyes locked on the rising smoke, and he knew. He knew that kind of fire. That was the kind of blaze meant to destroy something ugly.
When he cut around the corner of a cabin and saw it properly, saw the flames eating the wood, saw the structure collapsing into itself, saw the snow stained black — his knees nearly buckled. He wanted to shout her name but didn’t want to reveal himself.
He strained his ears for voices, for any sign of Ellie. But he heard nothing. Just the roar of the fire. Just the crackling pop of timber giving way.
The heat lashed out at him as he neared, forcing him back a step, but he didn’t stop. He circled the burning wreck, eyes darting to every window, every flicker of shadow, desperate for a glimpse. The roof groaned, collapsing inward with a crash that sent embers spitting into the sky. His heart clenched, and his knees threatened to give.
And then he saw her.
A shape, barely moving, staggering across the snow. Blood on her hands. Her hair wild. No coat. Bare skin bright against the cold. Her eyes were huge and far away, like she couldn’t see the world around her.
He was already moving, the snow forgotten beneath his boots.
She didn’t see him as he approached.
She was walking like someone underwater. Like her body was still moving but her mind had curled somewhere deep and unreachable.
Her body didn’t even react when her boot caught a root hidden in the snow. But then he was reaching out, and caught her before she could fall, arms wrapping around her too tight, too fast. She shrieked, animal and raw, shoving at him.
“No — no, get off me! Don’t touch me!” Her nails clawed at his chest, her voice ragged and splintered. “Get the fuck off me!”
“Ellie — Ellie, it’s me. It’s Joel,” he said quickly. “It’s me, I got you, I got you—”
She froze.
Her hands twitched. Her head turned like she wasn’t sure where his voice was coming from.
Then: “Joel?” It came out hoarse.
He pulled back just enough to look at her, spinning her small body around until his hands were framing her face. Her eyes darted across his, searching, lost, disbelieving. “That’s right.” He touched her face gently, palms cupping her cheeks, trying to anchor her. Disbelievingly, a small smile split across her face. There was blood in her mouth.
Her teeth chattered so much from the cold — or was it panic? — that he thought her teeth would surely crack.
“You’re alive,” she whispered weakly, like she couldn’t believe he was really standing in front of her, holding himself up and standing.
Her knees folded. “Woah,” she said. He caught her again. This time she didn’t fight, just made a low sound and buried herself in his coat. Her fingers were ice. Her whole body shook. He was sure he was shaking just as bad. “You’re okay now,” he murmured. “I got you.”
His hands tightened, pulling her closer into him, arms wrapping around her so fiercely he half-expected her to protest. But she didn’t. She melted against him, her fingers clutching at the back of his coat, face pressed into his chest. He could feel the tremors rippling through her shoulders, and his own breath shuddered out of him. He held her there, his hand cradling the back of her head, eyes squeezing shut against the burn of tears.
Her hands fisted tighter in his coat, and he felt her tremble, just the slightest movement against his chest.
“They…they tried to—” she broke off, shuddering to a stop. Her breath came in gasps. She took a breath. “I’m okay, I’m alright.”
“You’re okay.” Please be okay. “I’m here. I got you, baby girl.”
He wanted to hold her until her shaking softened, until her breath evened out, until the weight of her against him felt solid and real. But they couldn’t stay — others would surely be coming.
Unwillingly, he pulled back just enough to look at her. Her face was smudged with soot, streaks of red trailing down her cheek from a gash above her brow. Her eyes were rimmed red, hollow and faraway, but she held his gaze with so much goddamn strength, and he saw her there, buried beneath the layers of fear and shock. Beneath the blood spatter on her face, beneath her own blood running from her nose and lip.
“We gotta move,” he said gently, brushing a strand of red hair out of her eyes. He hoped he didn’t sound as broken as he felt.
She nodded, and slipped her arm around his side, taking far too much of his weight, and together they hobbled along side by side.
Refuge came as a small, dilapidated cabin nestled between two pines. Joel led her inside after making sure it was empty, brushing snow off the doorway before securing it behind them.
He set down his pack, letting out a heavy breath as he knelt to start a fire with the scattered wood that lay by the crumbling hearth. His hands ached with the cold, fingertips stinging, but he struck the flint again and again until a spark caught. The fire sputtered to life, casting flickering shadows across the walls.
Ellie stood by the doorway, hands loose at her sides, eyes vacant. He watched her for a moment before pulling a blanket from the corner and holding it out.
“Come here, kiddo.” No response.
“Ellie,” he said again, louder, but just as gentle.
She blinked at him, eyes unfocused before she stepped forward, her movements stiff and uncertain. He wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, pulling it snug before pressing her down onto the floor near the fire. She sat there, knees pulled to her chest, staring into the flames.
“The wind won’t carry the smoke,” he said low, almost to himself. “They won’t find us.”
For a moment, there was only the quiet crackle of the fire.
Then her voice came. It was soft, flat, and hollow in a way that made something inside him twist.
“Let them.”
He swallowed hard and turned away, his movements rougher than they needed to be as he rifled through the pack. He checked their supplies without really seeing them, just needing something, anything, to keep his hands moving.
It wasn’t the words that unsettled him. It was the look on her face when she said them. That blank, far-off stare.
He couldn’t look at it too long. Not because he didn’t understand. But because he did.
Because if he let himself sit in it, let himself really think about what they’d done to her, he might get up and go finish the job. Might burn the rest of them to the ground just so she could breathe a little easier.
But right now, all he could do was keep the fire low, and stay close.
Joel cleared his throat, looking back at her once he’d steadied himself, smothering down the uselessness he felt. “You hungry?”
A few moments went by, her gaze still locked on the fire before all colour drained from her face and she shook her head minutely.
His fists curled at his sides, jaw tightening as he stared into the fire. He knew what people could do when they were desperate. Knew the things men justified when survival became their god. His mind swarmed with the things he’d seen back at that resort. He’d forced himself not to dwell on it, to get to Ellie first and deal with the horror of it later. But now…now it was clawing its way back up, sharp and unrelenting.
He’d have to get them food soon, wished it could be anything but meat. He couldn’t bear the thought of her stomach churning at the sight of it and having to force it down anyway. His own stomach rolled despite the persistent pang of hunger. But predictably the cabin was barren — no canned food left, no scraps to speak of. He’d need to go out, set some snares, and pray they caught something. Rabbit, squirrel — hell, even a damn bird if it came to it. But he had a sinking feeling that there wouldn’t be anything that wouldn’t send her spiraling back to whatever nightmare she’d clawed her way out of.
When was the last time she ate? How long had he been in that basement? They were far through winter now, it had to have been weeks of her taking care of him—
“I’ll go out and set some snares, have a look around.” He managed before he lost himself. She let out a small sound of disagreement in response.
Her brow furrowed. “You shouldn’t be movin’ around so much.” Her eyes flitted to his side, worry pulling her features tight.
Joel forced a rare smile. It felt all wrong. “I’m alright.”
“You’re not,” she said, and there was fire in her voice, a spark of that familiar spirit. “You need rest, Joel. You can barely s-stand up. I’ll do it,” she said, already attempting to get to her own feet. Her knees wobbled, and Joel crossed the room before she could protest, his hands catching her by the shoulders.
“Ellie.” Tried to keep his expression even and calm, though he felt anything but. “Sit.”
Her eyes flashed with something he couldn’t quite place, something desperate and raw. “You’re still hurt,” she stressed. “You were…you were so sick, Joel. And you’re not better.” Her voice cracked, and she didn’t seem to notice. “ And I can do it. I-I’m not afraid to…”
Her brows furrowed, and she seemed to lose her train of thought. She blinked slowly, a faraway look settling upon her.
Joel’s hands squeezed her shoulders gently, grounding her. “I know you can,” he said, voice steady. “I know you took care of me. Wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t.” His voice wavered, and he cleared his throat. “You did good, Ellie. Shouldn’ta had to do it, not when it’s s’posed to be the other way round. But — I’m much better now. And that’s ‘cause of you.”
His throat tightened. He remembered flashes — waking up in the dark, Ellie’s hands on his face, her voice muffled and distant, the sting of something sharp in his side. He couldn’t piece it all together. Couldn’t separate what was real from the fevered dreams that had clawed at his mind. But he knew she’d been there. He knew she’d somehow kept him alive.
“Was… was it long?” How badly did he fail her? How long was she alone and scared? How much responsibility did his failure cause her to shoulder? “How long was I out?”
Ellie’s eyes dropped to her hands, fingers twisting together. “Lost track,” she said quietly. Shame and anger swelled through him. “Kept gettin’ fevers. Thought you were… but then I-I found antibiotics. Penicillin.” Her voice wavered. “Didn’t know if it would work...”
“Penicillin—” his eyebrows pulled together in a deep frown. “What?—” but she shook her head, over and over, drawing in on herself.
“I don’t want to — I can’t—”
“Alright, alright,” he said quickly as she began to sink into herself further, holding his hands out to calm her. He’d let it go. For now.
But he thought of her voice, soft and distant, whispering things he couldn’t make out. He remembered the feel of her small hands trying to lift his head, something cold and metal pressed to his lips. He’d drunk it, whatever it was, because she’d told him to. Heard her voice. Had clung to it, clawed his way out of the darkness his body threatened fo sink into, because she needed him.
He watched the way her hands twisted tighter, knuckles going white. He let one of his hands fall gently on her shoulder. She seemed to ease under his touch. “Didn’t do enough,” she said quietly.
Joel’s hand tightened a fraction. “Yes, you did.” His voice was firm, unyielding. “Kept us alive kid. And you saved me,” he said impressively.
But instead of smiling like she might’ve once done under his praise, her eyes glistened, and she looked away, shoulders curling inward under his hold. Joel watched her for a moment, heart aching with the weight of it all. He wanted to make it right. Wanted to fix what had been broken. But he couldn’t, not with words.
So he squeezed her shoulder one more time, then slipped on his jacket, bracing himself against the cold. “I won’t be long,” he promised again, voice softer this time.
Joel hesitated, then stepped out into the snow, the wind biting at his skin. He’d set the snares, get them something real to eat. It wasn’t much, but it was something. Some sort of a start at clawing their way out of this hole.
And God help him, he was going to fix this.
“Okay,” she murmured quietly in agreement, not looking away from him. “Be quick.”
And he would be. He would do anything she asked.