Joel Miller x Reader

Thirty-Four

When he awoke from his slumber, Joel did not know how long he had been asleep.

With a yawn, he rubbed the last of the tiredness from his eyes. The blanket fell into his lap as he sat up on the couch and looked around.

"(Y/N)?", his voice was still rough from sleep.

Something clanked next to him. Surprised, he turned his gaze in that direction, suddenly awake as never before.

With an apologetic grin, you picked up the tin can you had accidentally dropped.

"I'm making breakfast.", you showed him the empty can. "I hope you're hungry. Found a big one."

At that very moment, his stomach growled. Embarrassed, he blushed and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand while fishing for his dried underpants with the other.

"I'm starving.", he joked, taking the spoon you offered him to snatch some of the ravioli from the pot over the gas burner. "Could be worse."

He twisted his mouth as the slimy, rancid sauce touched his tongue.

You had to admit yourself that it wasn't the best food you could find by now, but it wasn't spoiled yet and would fill your stomachs for a few hours.

Wrapped in silence, the two of you enjoyed the first hot meal in days.

"About yesterday...", you mumbled, poking around in your food.

With raised eyebrows, he lifted his gaze. There was this strange gleam in his dark eyes.

What was it?

Hope?

Discomfort?

"Was it bad?", he asked, half serious half joking.

Confused, you frowned. But when the realization hit, you hurriedly shook your head.

"Ah, that. No, that's not what I meant.", you threw the empty can into a corner so he could have the bigger portion. "You had told me about an injured person. Someone who fought with a clicker?"

Joel nodded.

"Hm. Yeah, I think that one's gone.", he muttered, shoving another spoonful into his mouth.

You hummed in agreement and adjusted your bulletproof vest. You were up early, not only to get dressed again, but also to avoid the moment of waking up together.

That kind of intimacy, opening your eyes and looking directly at him, maybe cuddling with him, made you nervous. Sex was one thing, but actually putting yourself in other people's arms and trusting them had been something horrible for quite some time now.

Probably it was because of the past, maybe because you had become a lone wolf.

No matter what it was, you didn't want to risk getting too close to him. Both physically and mentally.

"I followed the trail.", you informed him, while your eyes watched the changes in his face. "It doesn't look good. Must have fallen into the river. What happened after that, I don't know."

"No body?"

"No. Not a trace, not a shoe or clothes or anything that was dropped."

He sighed heavily.

"Then we can concentrate on the essentials now."

With an uncertain nod of your head, you pressed your lips into a thin line.

"There is a sewage system.", you pulled a map out of your jacket pocket. "We could get inside there, but it's likely they have guards positioned there."

Curious, he accepted the map. But before his eagerness to gain access could get the better of him, he turned his head to look at you with skepticism.

"Where did you get this?", he asked.

With a bitter grin you shrugged your shoulders.

"Would you hate me if I told you I already had it?", you asked back.

A queasy feeling spread through you.

His eyes narrowed.

"From where?"

"The fort was one of the first resting places where the immune settled. I... lived here for some time. Before regaining my freedom."

His eyebrows rose in surprise.

"Then... could there still be some of them here?", his eyes jumped around the room, thinking. "If we could kidnap one of them, then we could ransom Ellie."

The sound of his voice nearly tore your heart apart. There was so much hope, so much belief that there was still a way out. It hurt to frown and slowly shake your head.

"I fear we can't do that.", you mumbled.

All at once the glimmer in his eyes shattered.

"Why?", the expression on his face was that of a father who feared losing everything again.

"They are dead. Six out of seven."

His breath trembled. He swallowed hard.

"And the seventh?"

You shook your head.

"I don't know...", a bitter taste spread on your tongue when you said it. "I... forgot about them a long time ago..."

Something in your chest tightened and your stomach turned. It felt so infinitely bad to tell him that there was no hope, no plan B.

Either he had to risk everything or give it all up. There was no other option.

With one swift movement, you got back on your feet and sighed. With your back pressed to the door, you watched him.

Your hand was already on the door handle, just in case. There was this fear inside of you, the fear he might turn against you if you told him the truth.

"I... I killed them.", you confessed. "Most of them."

Sitting in front of the half eaten food, his eyes fixed onto the flame of the gas cocker, he let out a deep breath. His grip around the spoon tightened. For a moment it seemed like he wanted to stab you with it.

"Why?", he asked in a calm voice. "Just... why did you?"

As he looked into your eyes you could read a silent accusation in them.

Hurt, you avoided his gaze.

"It was either them or me.", you said. "I chose me. And before you ask, just running away wasn't an option. I tried. They haunted me down every time. They stabbed me, tortured me and then dragged me back. My body was nothing but a piece of flesh for them. Sometimes... I can still fell their hands... I can still smell them..."

Tears were burning inside your eyes. But you refused to give in. You weren't weak. You did not want to bow to the pain of the past. You were not willing to give those fuckers the satisfaction of breaking.

"I defended myself against two.", you said in a calm, icy voice. "The others were just victims of the wrong time in the wrong place."