Chapter Text
Ellie
It's late in the evening when Ellie finds that abandoned little cabin in the woods. With a shove of her shoulder she pushes the door open, sending a shower of dust down. She coughs, waving her hand through the dust cloud, until her vision clears.
The cabin looks comfortable enough, if she ignores the part where the roof has caved in. It certainly looks more comfortable than the hard ground with its roots and rocks and whatever digging into her back. Jackson is still a few hours away and Ellie doesn't feel like walking those in the dark.
Yeah. This place will do for the night. Even got a small bunk bed and a gas stove, so Ellie could cook something up if she wanted.
She doesn't. Cooking has always been more Dina's thing. The stuff that woman could do with just a rabbit and a few potatoes... It's not that Ellie can't cook, there's just something about standing at a kitchen range, stirring away in a pot that makes life feel so normal. Like everything is okay, and it wasn't then and it isn't now, so Ellie doesn't feel like cooking.
She sits down on the bunk bed, sets her backpack between her legs and puts her handgun on the small nightstand. It's getting dark quickly now. Through the window opposite her, Ellie can see the dimly lit forest and apart from the occasional call of an owl it's utterly silent. But it's a loud silence, roaring, screaming at her you're alone, you're all alone and for what?
Ellie drops her gaze and lies down. Hands on her chest she tries to take a few calming breaths, reflexively reaching for her fingers that aren't there anymore and lays a hand on Dina's bracelet instead.
Dina.
Warm eyes, soft hair, gentle touch, bright smile. Dina.
Ellie exhales. She'll reach Jackson tomorrow.
She closes her eyes.
Scratchy beard, hazel eyes, comforting hands, strong hugs.
Ellie sleeps.
She snaps awake just a few hours later, her whole body on alert, hand reaching for her switchblade. She's not sure what woke her. A noise, probably. Looking back she gets why Joel was always such a light sleeper. Back when they were traveling together he woke up every time Ellie so much as shifted in the covers. She used to feel a bit guilty for that, until she decided that, Jesus Christ, it's not her fault the man had ears like, like...
Like whatever animal it is that has good ears.
Things are different now. Ellie has been traveling alone for months with no one to look after her but herself, so she has grown more than wary of strange noises waking her in the night. She grabs her backpack and Joel's revolver and steps out of the cabin to see what's going on.
It's completely dark out. What little light there is comes from the moon, and the clouds are doing their best to stop that from happening, so it's not much. Ellie's flashlight stays off. She doesn't want to draw attention to herself, doesn't want to get sneaked up on. She'd much rather do the sneaking herself, something that works a lot better in the dark.
Ellie moves slowly, revolver drawn, trying to keep quiet, but she can't help the rustle of leaves under her feet. Apart from that it's quiet. Whatever noise woke her up hasn't made a reappearance yet. Probably just some animal. Ellie is about to turn back when the forest abruptly stops and her next step meets solid ground.
A road.
Huh.
Now that the trees aren't blocking the sky anymore the moon grants her a little more light and Ellie frowns at the street under her feet.
It looks... fine.
Nothing like the streets usually look after 25 years in the apocalypse. There's the odd crack in the tarmac here and there, but other than that it's a perfectly drivable road. Nothing blocking or growing on it, not a single broken down car in sight.
That's... weird.
And that's about as far as her train of thought takes her, because she's interrupted by a noise, closely followed by a beam of light, throwing her shadow on the road.
Ellie doesn't even think about stepping out of the way. Her last thought is Huh. That would explain what woke me and then there's frantic honking and screeching tires and Ellie is knocked off her feet. She hits the floor hard, her head slamming into the softer ground of the woods and her world goes dark.
The first thing she becomes aware of is a raging headache and a dark room. It takes her embarrassingly long to realise she's lying in a bed and that alone is enough to send her heart racing. That's when she notices the steady beeping to her left getting faster.
A heart monitor? Since when are those a thing again?
Ellie props herself up on her elbows, grimacing at the pain in her head. Taking stock of her surroundings she notices that this room she's lying in looks a whole lot like the rooms in Jackson's clinic, just fancier, and a look to the window confirms that she is in a town. It's still dark outside, but she can see lights. As far as she knows Jackson is the closest town to that little cabin, but it was still hours away on foot. How did she get here so fast?
Oh. That's right. She was hit by a car. Maybe it was on of Jackson's and the dickface that hit her recognized her and dropped her off here. In Jackson. Granted, this is where Ellie was headed, but she thought she'd get more time—say, a day's walk—to prepare herself. Ellie did not plan to wake up in the heart of the town. She was going to walk up to the gate, say hi, maybe even give a friendly wave and then—
Okay, so she hasn't actually thought farther than that. She'd figured the rest would just come naturally. Maybe the guards would naturally shoot her. That would take care of a lot of her worries.
Except Jackson doesn't normally shoot stragglers. Sucks for her.
But whatever she'd imagined, it sure would have beaten the hell out of waking up in the clinic. Who even knows she's here? Maria? Probably Maria. Dina? Hopefully not. Tommy?
Christ, Tommy. How can she face him after what she did, what she didn't do.
The beeping grows faster and when did Jackson get heart monitors anyway?
Voices from outside the room draw her gaze to the door. Through a small window she sees an old man with white hair and glasses holding a clipboard. Looks like a doctor. Ellie doesn't know him, but she hasn't been to Jackson in over a year, there are bound to be new people. The white coat and scrubs are a bit fancy for her taste, not that she's all that focused on him. Who really has her attention is the guy he's talking to, because from behind the guy looks a whole lot like Joel, down to the hair and the jacket and the width of his shoulders.
Ellie turns away, clenching her hands around the bed sheets to keep them from trembling.
Just a man. Not Joel.
Just a man, not Joel, because Joel is dead in the ground and has been for well over a year now. About the same amount of time she spent not talking to him.
Ellie squeezes her eyes shut against the headache that's pounding away at her.
Hazel eyes, deep voice, strong hugs, comforting hands.
It doesn't calm her like it usually does, but Ellie is so exhausted she falls asleep anyway.
Next time she wakes up, it's to Joel slumped on a chair in her room. Sleeping. That gives her a pause. She's never hallucinated him sleeping before. Usually he's just standing in a corner of the room, giving her looks of pity and asking questions like What are you doing, kiddo? You really gonna go through with this?
Yeah. Yeah, she fucking was and screw everyone who stood in her way.
It's not gonna bring me back.
She fucking knew that. Didn't change a damn thing. Ellie said she was going to kill every last one of them and that was exactly what she was going to do
And she did. She killed everyone but one.
Ellie doesn't know if it's regret or relief she feels when she thinks back to that day on the beach, and quite frankly, she's too much of a coward to dig deep enough into her psyche to find out. Instead she just feels sick and tries not to think about it at all.
But that day was also the last time she... saw him. She hasn't hallucinated him since, hasn't had a nightmare, hasn't looked over her shoulder because she expected him to be there, telling her to slow the hell down because he was getting too old to be running around like that.
Ellie doesn't know how to feel about that either. All these bookstores she's come across and never once did she find a self help book that said What to do when your father figure you sort of pretended to hate for two years is brutally murdered in front of you the day after you started to forgive him and you set out to avenge him, but don't actually kill his killer.
That book would really come in handy right about now.
Although, objectively speaking, not seeing a hallucination of your dead father figure is probably a good thing, right? So where does that leave her? Because that's definitely Joel in the chair. Hallucination-Joel, not real-Joel, looking all comfy with his head tipped back, arms crossed over his chest and legs stretched out in front of him.
Ellie stares at the ceiling with a sigh. Here goes hoping she's getting any better. "Fuck."
Hallucination-Joel stirs. Do hallucinations usually wake up? Hell, do hallucinations even sleep?
"Ellie?"
Ellie very determinedly does not turn her head. "Nope, I'm not talking to you."
There's a pause and the rustle of clothes. The chair creaks. "Ellie."
Fuck, no. No, no, no. She wants so badly to hear his voice again, but not like this. Not like this. "You're not supposed to be here."
It's cruel, seeing him like this, hearing his voice, and a part of Ellie wants to slam her head against the wall until it stops. But another part of her, one she wants to suffocate until it's just as lifeless as the rest of her, glimmers into a small spark of relief at Joel's presence. Even when that presence is not actually real. Hallucination-Joel is better than no Joel at all. It means she's not alone.
Joel sighs. He sounds tired. "The hospital called me. Apparently you kept mumbling my name and they didn't know who else to contact, since you didn't have your phone or ID with you. You—"
"What the fuck are you talking about?" She does turn her head then, but forgets all about her confusion at the sight of him.
Joel is leaning forward, elbows on his knees, the worry lines etched into his forehead even more pronounced than usual. He looks pretty much exactly like every other hallucination she's had of him, except for the startling intensity of his eyes.
God, he looks so real. Ellie fists her blanket to keep herself from reaching out a hand. She's done that before—tried to touch him, only to meet nothing but air, followed by crippling disappointment. A follow-up to that moment is just about the last thing Ellie needs right now.
Joel puts his hands on his knees, pushing himself up. "Look, I'm gonna get the doctor, alright?"
A bitter laugh escapes her. "Yeah, good fucking luck with that."
Hurt flashes in his eyes and the memory of that evening at the dance pierces her brain like an arrow. Ellie feels the crazy need to apologize. To a figment of her imagination. But that look is gone as quickly as it appeared and he moves to the door without another word. Ellie watches him leave, trying to swallow down the panic at the thought of not seeing him again.
Maybe this is it. Maybe he's gone for good this time.
Maybe Ellie really is alone now.
Or at least she would be if it wasn't for the small fact that she's in Jackson—the place she called home for four years. She's gonna have to confront that sooner or later.
And screw it, she needs to get out of this room.
Ellie kicks back the blanket and climbs out of the bed, immediately regretting the speed of her actions when her headache comes back full force. She raises a hand to the back of her head to find a sizeable lump there.
"Hit by a fucking car. Fucking asshole..."
Only when starts taking the steps to the window does she notice that she's wearing a hospital gown.
A whole ass hospital gown. Jesus, what happened in Jackson while she was gone?
And then she reaches the window and her brain stutters to a complete halt. This... this can't be Jackson, it can't be. There are cars driving around. Like, a lot of them, stopping at red lights and crosswalks, casually taking corners and parking at some place called Walmart.
There's actual traffic going on.
If it wasn't for the pounding in her head Ellie would think this is a dream. A lot may have changed since she's last been to Jackson, but no way they have cars now. Not this many. Sure, there's the odd tractor or pick up truck they use to transport heavier supplies and gear, but not this. This is the stuff from twenty five years ago.
Ellie is starting to feel a little light headed when the door opens and Joel and the doctor enter the room.
Seems like Joel is not done with her after all.
"Miss Miller, it's good to see you awake," the doctor says, "though you shouldn't be out of bed yet. That's quite the hit to the head you took. Had us all worried. How are you feeling?"
Ellie stares.
The doc frowns. "Miss Miller?"
"Huh?"
"I asked how you were feeling."
"I'm— I don't—" Ellie puts a hand on the windowsill for support and looks outside again. Cars, people, no horses. "Where am I, what's going on?"
Now it's Joel's turn to frown as he looks at the doctor. (He's getting awfully involved for a hallucination.)
The doctor keeps looking at Ellie. "You're in Jackson, Wyoming. You were hit by car during the night and suffered a concussion. The driver called an ambulance and you were transmitted to the hospital at four a.m. You were unconscious for three hours."
Ellie tries to suck in a breath, but the oxygen never reaches her lungs. "You better stop fucking lying to me."
"Ellie—"
"Miss Miller. I think perhaps you should take a se-"
"Don't you take another step towards me!"
Both Joel and the doctor stop in their tracks. Ellie takes a frantic look across the room. Her backpack is in the opposite corner of the room—too far away. God knows where her switchblade is, the revolver—
"Ellie. Ellie listen to me."
That's Joel's voice. Joel who is dead and definitely not standing in the room right now. Why does he sound so real?
"You're in Jackson. You're safe." Joel lifts a hand to the doctor's shoulder. "This is Doctor Carter. I know him, alright? You can trust him."
But Ellie is not absorbing any of his words, because Joel just put his hand on the doctor's shoulder. She can even see the dents in the coat where Joel's hand is resting.
Hallucinations aren't supposed to do that.
With a shaky breath, Ellie fixes her eyes at the doctor. "You can see him?"
The confusion in the doc's eyes is answer enough.
Ellie's world tips sideways and she stumbles with it. Her shoulder hits the wall, her knees threaten to buckle—
Joel crosses the distance berween them in a single step, taking her by the shoulders. "Easy, kiddo."
Ellie's hand flies to his forearm. His very firm, very solid, very real forearm.
This can't be. She's lost it. She has completely and utterly lost it. Her mind is fucked.
"Ellie, hey, look at me."
I am.
Hazel eyes, scratchy beard, deep voice and the proof of his comforting hands on her shoulders.
"I think I'm gonna throw up."
Good thing she barely eats these days, but that's probably also the reason for the black spots appearing in her vision and the muted sounds of Joel raising his voice at the doctor. The words Ellie can't make out, because she's busy losing consciousness. She feels herself falling forward, the only thing preventing her from hitting the floor Joel's arms around her. Ellie has just enough presence of mind to feel her head dropping againt his chest. She imagines she can hear his heartbeat. It must be his. Her's has gone numb long ago.
Thump.
Thump.
Ellie closes her eyes. She wouldn't mind dying like this. Maybe that's what's happening.
You're okay, kiddo. I got you.
I know you do.
And with that Ellie lets herself go.