𝐏𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘𝐀. tlou (discounted)

𝐗𝐈𝐕.

━━━━𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏.

  𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 leaves broke under Tommy's boot's weight, the early morning wind of the beginning autumn turning his face a pale pink. He kept his hands buried within his jacket pockets, yet the breeze never failed to keep them chilly.

The following weeks since Maisie's disappearance took its toll on the Miller family, but the pain seemed to overtake the man's older brother greater than ever. Joel had hardly slept, and when he did, the father's dreams filled with the screams of his daughter, each one like a dagger to the heart.

So it was no surprise for Tommy to find the man hunched over a growing pile of maps in his woodworking room once he entered his brother's home.

"Hey, brother." The younger man made his presence known, Joel only giving so much as a quiet grunt in greeting. Peering over his brother's shoulder, Tommy takes notice of drawn circles of the bright red sharpie lying next to the map.

"Narrowed down the search area to these three places." The older man states, listing off each of the buildings as his points.

"The Baldwin place, Eugene's old cabin, and that old bunch of apartments we cleared out two months ago." Joel tiredly runs a hand through his graying raven locks. A wave of exhaustion caves down on the man, the distent pain of a headache creeping on him as worry slowly ate at his well-being.

"Gonna head out to the Baldwin place, be back by sundown at the latest."

Tommy tails after his brother, voicing his protests firmly. The younger man knew all too well that Joel was as stubborn as a mule, but he also knew it was highly likely for the man to collapse from exhaustion.

"Joel, for the love of God-"

"You ain't stopping me." Joel shrugs on his tan coat, holstering his pistol.

"You wanna know what my little girl is thinkin' right now, Tommy?" The father slings his pack over his shoulders, his brother standing in his bedroom door with a frown etched across his face.

"My damn daughter thinks I ain't gonna come lookin' for er'. That we ain't gonna come lookin'!"

While the eldest Miller begins to strap his hunting knife to his brown belt, his movements stop short at the sight of a photograph taken unbeknownst to the father and daughter on the little one's eleventh birthday. The remanence of a snowball littered Maise's heavy coat, her little nose a dull pink as she smiled brightly, blue eyes filled with joy that had always come rarely. The youngest Miller sat upon her father's lap, the frame taken while Joel stated a sentence that had brought laughter to his daughter that laid cuddled against him on their porch's steps.

The father carefully took to polaroid into his palm, holding it as if the smallest breeze would take it away in its wind. That day had held tremendous amounts of joy. With laughter and smiles drifting far into the evening, Mason listened carefully to her father's guidance while her small hands played a beginner's song with her first guitar.

Joel looked down at the photo with a whisper of a smile, yet it fleeted quickly as the man reluctantly came back into the harsh reality he was living.

"I can't live without my daughter, Tommy." The man whispered, swallowing back the tears that had built within his brown eyes.

Tommy watched as his brother carefully slid the polaroid he had taken himself into his back pocket, meeting the older man's gaze.

"Pick yourself up some extra ammo, head to the stables, and saddle up the horses. Meet up with you in ten."