Joel Miller x Reader

Twenty-Eight

From the outside, the building looked uninhabited, green creepers sprawled from the broken windows and climbed over the cold concrete walls. It was strange to see that life other than fir trees could thrive in winter.

The cone of light from the flashlight climbed into the building, but it could not illuminate more than a few dark outlines.

With a hand signal, you indicated that it looked safe, but he should still be careful.

Joel nodded, already in front of you and opened the main entrance.

Loudly crumpling and screaming, the big door crawled open.

You squinted your eyes, almost having to laugh at how loud and noticeable the sound was.

"Everyone in the next five miles knows we're here now.", you joked, and immediately had to shake yourself as a cold shiver crept through your body.

Slowly the wet clothes became uncomfortable.

The fabric stuck to your skin like a layer of ice. In some places your skin was already blue. Not much longer and the possibility of freezing to death did not seem impossible.

Joel pushed you into the building. In his free hand he held a pistol.

In the dim light you could see the expression on his face, serious, but not as tense as before.

"Up there.", he pointed to a door in the darkness. "That looks safe. Let's look there."

Curious, you shone the light on the spot and were surprised to see that the door was marked staff only.

"Why this door?", you asked, but you followed him anyway.

When he tugged on the door handle, it actually opened. It hadn't been locked properly, just left ajar in a hurry.

"Bingo.", he grinned and let you go first before pulling the door shut behind him. "Such doors are usually heavier than others. Plus, you can open them from the inside without a key."

Understandably, you hummed and scanned the walls with the flashlight.

"Offices.", you muttered, shrugging. "At least it's dry."

"We should look for the director's office. There's usually a sofa or something."

Surprised, you smirk. With a raised eyebrow, you turned to him.

"It's not the first time someone has slept in a museum, huh?", you tease him.

He grinned.

"Maybe."

At the end of the corridor, he pushed open another door, took a quick look inside, and pulled it shut again.

Confused, you looked at him.

Uncertainly, he shook his head.

"I don't think a corpse on a chair is pleasant company...", he muttered, and opened the next door. "This one looks better."

He stepped aside so you could light the room.

The office was large and mostly empty. Only two desks stood around, covered with a thick layer of dust.

A sofa stood against the wall and next to it a water dispenser, the contents of which no longer looked quite so fresh.

When you took a step into the room, your feet left wet prints on the floor.

"If we're lucky, the sofa can be pulled out.", you mumbled, looking at the old piece of furniture. "But maybe the hinges are already stiff."

He knelt down next to you, his hands already under the sofa, and looked at you asking you to do dad giggles.

Together you tug at the bottom part.

It moved, dust swirled up.

When it got into your nose you almost sneezed.

Again you tugged at the sofa, this time with more force.
A shrill squeak filled the silence.

Briefly you paused and listened to see if anyone or anything had heard it. But everything remained silent.

"A bit more.", hissed Joel with clenched teeth and leaned back so far that the sofa unfolded with a loud crunching.

"This looks bad.", with a furrowed brow, you illuminated the surface.

Stains and dust had gathered on the cracked leather. There was sand and earth. Probably someone had slept on it before and brought all the dirt with them.

With a relieved gasp, Joel put down the backpack and stretched.

"A little cleaning will do.", he gave you a quick glance. "Can you take care of that? I'll look around to make sure everything's secure. Maybe I can find some pillows or blankets."

"Agreed.", you nodded. "But be careful. And don't do anything stupid."

He laughed, but you could see he felt caught.

"What stupid things could I do?", he rubbed the back of his neck with an embarrassed grin. "I'm a grown man, not a teenager."

Smiling, you shook your head.

"Joel.", when you said his name, your voice suddenly became soft. "I know you want to save Ellie as soon as possible. And I know that the uncertainty is killing you. But we have to think carefully about what to do next. We don't know the area, how many people they have and how aggressive they act towards strangers. You won't be able to save her as a dead man."

Sighing heavily, his shoulders dropped. His mouth twisted, he wanted to say something but knew he couldn't deny facts.

"I'll be back.", he whispered and turned his back on you.

The disappointment in his voice made your heart pull together. With a sad expression, you watched him, realising that he had the same problem you did before making peace with the life that you had chosen.

He was lonely.

Now that Ellie was gone he had no other person to love and care for. Sure, his fatherly instincts also played a huge role in saving her, but he feared that if she was gone he had nobody left to love.

You had been there many years ago and deep down inside you knew how helpless and useless he felt. Back then you had wished to be somebodies supporters, you had longed for the small gestures of intimacy.

You could only guess, but judging by his behaviour he hadn't had a serious romantic relationship with anybody in years.

Sighing, you bit your lips and slowly got up.

"Joel.", his name out of your mouth made him stop.

Without a word you wrapped your arms around him from behind and pressed your cheek against his back.

"It will be fine...", you whispered, hugging him tightly. "You're not on your own."