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There’s a switch that flips in Joel’s head.
It happens not too long after Benji is born. He came into the world healthy and beautiful and almost an exact replica of his mama. It was bittersweet, watching his baby brother turn into a father. Benji resembled Sarah in small ways – those same chocolate brown eyes and long lashes fluttering up at them – but it wasn’t as painful as Joel expected it to be.
In fact, he was able to watch his younger brother hold his newborn with a sense of pride and affection. Something he would’ve never thought possible after he lost his own first born. His second kid pressed against his side as they watched the new family together helped more than he can say.
Both him and Ellie are immediately infatuated. They’ll take any chance they can to babysit, coming over to let Maria take a nap or watching him when council and patrol need the attention.
Ellie takes to Benji like a moth to a flame. She’s so attentive to him, always the first person up when the baby cries or heating up his bottles before Joel can even realize he’s hungry. It warms his chest and makes him soft, watching his kid and his nephew. He knows that if she ever chose to have one of her own, she’d be a natural.
Joel’s on baby duty tonight while Maria and Tommy are on council business. His brother has recently been inducted into the council after the town’s bi-annual vote. It makes sense to him, Tommy finally being able to join something worthy of him. It’s long overdue, but Joel’s proud nonetheless.
Both of them on the council, though, means longer meetings that aren’t quite suitable for a baby less than a year old. They try to take Benji as much as possible, neither of them wanting to be away from their son for too long, but there’s only so many hours an infant can take in a formal setting before he needs to scream like a banshee.
So Joel convinces them to leave the kid for an evening and let him have some quality uncle-nephew time.
They spend a little while walking around town, taking a stroll for some fresh air and greeting the neighbors. Ellie starts out with them but about halfway through ends up ditching them to indulge in a game of man hunt with her peers. Joel knows that as much as she loves her cousin, she’s still a teenager who will take any opportunity to goof off and get into trouble with her friends.
He sent her off with a squeeze around her shoulders and a warning not to get too dirty. Ellie just stuck her tongue out at him and high tailed it towards the group of teenagers waiting on her. Joel’s already preparing himself for the trail of mud that will be tracked into the house when she gets home later.
After a couple laps around the block, Joel carries Benji back home where he could warm up a bottle for supper. He almost feels bad for Maria with how much the baby can eat in a day. Sarah was the same in the way that she could put away two bottles in a flash and still cry for more.
He fills a bowl with hot water and moves to take a bottle out of the fridge, dropping it in the bowl to let it warm up. Benji rests against his shoulder, fidgeting as he starts to grow fussy while they wait. Joel pats his back gently, swaying side to side in hopes of preventing a fit.
His hand is large against the baby’s back, an impenetrable shield around his nephew. It’s odd to think about – these hands that have done unspeakable things, that have killed for unjustifiable reasons. But still, with Benji his touch has no purpose but to soothe, a gentle source of affection. The same that he’s given to Ellie time and time again.
When he deems the bottle warm enough, Joel carries Benji out to the living room where he sits in the recliner with the baby in the crook of his arm. He watches those big brown eyes stare up at him as the bottle drains to empty, lashes fluttering softly once he’s finished as he fights to stay awake. Joel rocks them back and forth in the chair as the steady motion lulls the baby to sleep. He brings a hand up to run a gentle finger across a plump cheek, skin velvety and soft under his touch.
His thoughts wander as he holds his nephew, still rocking him back and forth even after he’s fallen asleep. Joel thinks back to when Sarah was this age and the long nights spent doing exactly this. Holding his baby girl with the rest of the world faded into the background, his only focus being the solid weight of her in his arms.
Joel remembers feeling each puff of her breath against him like a beat of his own heart. The quiet little noises she’d make as her eyes moved behind closed eyelids. Even the smell of her at that age he can still recall if he tries hard enough. It makes his chest ache in that familiar way it does whenever he reminisces on those days for too long.
Sarah loved to be held more than she loved anything else. There were days that Joel would spend with only one hand free for use because the other was occupied full-time with his daughter or else she would scream her head off. Tommy used to poke fun, always saying that she had her daddy wrapped around her finger before she could even speak, but Joel never minded.
He was probably just as bad as her with the way he’d always gladly have a hold on her. He’d cart her around all day and all night if it meant she was happy, and he wouldn’t complain a word.
As she got older, the affection started growing fewer and farther between but even then, his kid loved a cuddle. There were numerous nights he can remember her crawling into his bed, whether it be a bad dream or a stomachache, or even just when she got lonely. Joel would never turn her away. Sure, there were times he thought maybe he should have, but he could never deny his girl of anything, let alone the comfort she depended on from his arms.
Joel had always been scared of the day he’d hold her for the last time. They say as parents, one day you pick your child up and put them down and then never do it again. The thought would keep him up at night, especially once she’d inched closer and closer to teenager. He’d recall each time he’d held his daughter that week, cataloging them and wondering with every instance if that would be the last.
For Joel, the last time he held his baby girl would be definitive because it would also be the last time she took a breath.
It’s a souring thought, one that still threatens to crush him under its weight if he’s not careful. He chooses to turn his attention back to the sleeping baby in his arms instead, letting the small body ground him back in his own. He readjusts to lean back heavier against the cushion of the recliner, holding Benji tighter against his chest.
Tommy will never know the pain of pinpointing the very last time he held his son. No, his brother will get to hold his kid until he grows too big, and then set him down one day and not realize it was the last until way down the road. And even then, he’ll have the opportunity to still gather his son in his arms because Joel will make sure of it.
The same way that he’ll make sure that Ellie will always get a hug before leaving the house or a kiss on her temple before bed.
Ellie…
Wait.
It’s then that Joel feels a gear stop turning in his head, thoughts redirected to a place that halts him in his tracks.
Who held Ellie when she was a baby?
The question sinks heavily into him as the background noise of the room stills and everything but the baby in his arms fades.
Who was it that held a tiny, infant Ellie in their arms during a stroll around the block? Who was it that fed her a bottle and rocked her gently until she fell asleep, full and content? Who was it that sat awake at night and wondered when would be the last time they held her?
Joel knows unwillingly that the better question to ask would be, who didn’t hold his little girl?
His muscles tense unconsciously, though his hold on Benji stays gentle, and he grits his teeth. He knows where Ellie grew up – knows that the Boston QZ was not a place kids were sent to be nurtured and cared for. Joel had passed by the orphanage enough times to know exactly how those children were treated, just based on the brief glances at them alone. Small, malnurtured and too thin. It wasn’t uncommon to see a kid littered with bruises and marks, black and blue vibrant on pale skin. It’s something he never paid mind to, just another thing in the QZ that they knew to be true and had nothing to do with him, even though he’d purposefully avoided going near the school for all of those reasons alike.
Still, he’d never really allowed himself to think of Ellie – his Ellie – as one of them.
It sets a fire ablaze inside of him, a familiar rage bubbling to the surface. His fists ache to hit something at the mental image of Ellie being one of those beaten and underfed kids he’d too often see around the QZ.
She doesn’t talk to him about her past with FEDRA. It’s one of those lines he knew better than to cross with her, letting the decision lay with her whether or not to bring it up. But there’s a part of him that burns to know, that wants to get the name of every single officer who ever raised a hand against her or neglected her and make a one way trek back to Boston to eliminate them himself.
It makes him furious, the thought of anyone hurting Ellie. But it’s the thought of her, small and alone and scared with no one to hold her or tend to her, that makes him ache.
More than anything, right now he wants to know if there was ever someone for her. If there was ever even one person that had the mind to hold her just for the sake of holding her. Joel desperately hopes that just maybe there was one officer who had the slightest bit of empathy towards his girl. Just one that wiped crocodile tears from her big brown eyes or hugged her so tight that she giggled until she couldn’t breathe.
She’s always been well receiving of the affection he offers her. More often than not, Ellie clings to his side and soaks up every soft touch and gesture that’s given to her. It sparks hope somewhere in him that maybe, just maybe, someone in her life did nurture her the way she deserved if how openly affectionate she is now says anything.
But then he thinks back to when they met. Back when it was weary glances and side eyes, tracking his every move and keeping a hand in her pocket where her switchblade rested at all times. Ellie’s not affectionate because someone taught her to be, she’s affectionate because she finally trusts someone enough to take what she needs.
That thought alone tightens his chest further and the hand not resting against Benji’s back clenches into a fist. It’s one thing for a little Ellie to be denied the care she needs but to be oblivious nonetheless, but the alternative…
A smaller, younger Ellie who longs for the affection not a single person in charge of her is willing to give…
Joel has to bite his tongue to keep from swearing out loud. He burns with the anger that torpedoes through him at the thought and it’s an effort to keep from disrupting a sleeping Benji. There’s no world that’s worth everything Ellie has sacrificed of herself for him to take as reality that she was never even fucking hugged as a child. Even as damned to hell and back that the current state of the planet is, that is where Joel draws the line.
The urge to up and run to where he knows Ellie is still playing with her friends is immediate, but his own good sense and the baby fast asleep in his hold prevent him from listening to instinct. He wants answers from her almost as much as he wants to burn FEDRA to the ground and dance on their ashes. But more than that, Joel just really wants to hold his fucking kid.
Forcing the clawing ache in his chest down, he settles in with his sleeping nephew and wills himself not to take any drastic measures against an organization thousands of miles away.
-
When Tommy makes it back to pick up his kid, who is still sound asleep, he clocks Joel’s odd behavior instantly.
“‘S the matter with you? You like you’re gonna wear a hole into the carpet.”
Joel stops his pacing to glare at his brother, having set the baby down on his blanket so that he could move his body before he vibrated out of his skin with the anxious tension that riddles him.
“It’s nothin’.” He brushes it off and resumes his pacing. “The meeting go okay?”
Tommy just gives him a knowing look and reaches down to scoop up his kid before taking Joel’s previous seat in the recliner. “It went fine but you don’t care nothing about that. Something happen with Ellie?”
Joel stops again and sighs, deep and heavy as he lets himself fall back onto the couch. He brings a hand up to rub at his eyes and he can already feel the headache forming behind them.
“It’s complicated.”
“I got time.”
Joel just looks over at Tommy, who sits patiently with Benji resting peacefully against his chest. The sight alone squeezes his chest further and brings all of the thoughts he’s been working to suppress for the last hour back to the surface.
“I don’t know who held Ellie when she was a baby.”
The statement catches Tommy off guard. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, clearly not understanding what brought this on all of a sudden. Hell, even Joel doesn’t know why this is hitting him now of all times when there’s been ample opportunity to have this same internal crisis before today.
But the way Benji twitches against his dad in his sleep, a much larger hand coming up to pat soothingly against his back, drowns Joel in all of those emotions all over again.
“She was given to FEDRA as a baby. According to Marlene, her mama died from a bite after giving birth. No idea who or where the father got off to.” Joel explains, voice low and full of dismay. “I was just… When I was holding Benji, I got to thinkin’. About what Ellie would’ve been like at that age, and how there was probably no one to– to hug her and kiss her and tuck her in at night.”
His voice grows strained as he continues and his brother is feeling a similar emotion based off of the look he’s giving him.
“Fuck, Tommy. I just… There ain’t any point of that girl’s life where it’s been fair to her.”
Tommy nods solemnly and Joel sees the subtle way the hand on Benji’s back presses him closer. “I know. It’s not right, her being dealt the hand she was. We both know how the QZ’s were– how they treated their kids.”
The words make Joel’s fists clench tightly and he thinks his teeth sound in pain with how hard he’s gritting them.
“But,” Tommy continues before Joel can up and start his pacing again just to give himself some kind of outlet. “She’s not there anymore, brother. She’s got you now, and as far as I’m concerned, there ain’t no better place to be. No point in dwellin’ on a past you couldn’t do a thing about.”
Joel softens slightly and lets some of the tension fall from his shoulders. His brother’s right, he knows it. Ellie is safe and cherished and loved here. Not only by him, but by her aunt and uncle, her cousin, her little group of friends. Even the damn horses get a sparkle in their eye whenever she’s around.
Even so, there’s still a lingering knot in his stomach that he thinks just comes with the territory of being someone’s dad. The pain that comes with not being able to fix your kid’s problems, even if they’re not aware it’s a problem at all.
Tommy stands up and Joel rises with him. His brother claps a hand on his shoulder and gives him a reassuring smile. “I’ll see y’all in the mornin’, alright?”
Joel gives him a nod and walks him to the door, shutting it behind when he leaves and sitting in resolute silence as he waits for his girl to come home, heart still heavy in his chest.
-
Joel’s still up and sitting on the couch when Ellie gets home. The sun has set outside, streetlamps lighting the roads and the sound of cicadas chirping loudly drifts through the house when the front door opens.
Ellie beams when she sees him, as she always does after she gets home from causing trouble with her friends. She pulls off her shoes, hopping on one foot as she takes each off instead of just sitting down like a normal person.
“You would not believe the night I’ve had, dude.”
He rests an arm along the back of the couch when she finally makes her way over to him. She drops heavily on the cushion on the other side from him, pressing her toes under his thigh.
“Tell me about it.” Joel smiles softly when she’s off like a shot, yammering away about her and her friends' shenanigans.
He takes in all of her features as she talks, noting the sparkle in her eyes she gets whenever she’s excited. Her hands move enthusiastically, gesturing wildly with her story. Baby hairs fly away from her face in various directions and her ponytail is on its last legs.
He loves her like this – young and careless and happy. Desperately, he wishes she could always be like this. Could have always been like this.
It’s on the tip of his tongue to ask her about what’s been wracking his brain for the past few hours. He could bring it up now, ask her about those wretched days under FEDRA and the lack of care that she received. He could ask her for as many names that she can remember of those who wronged her, who neglected her when his little girl needed someone there for her. He could then give his imagination some ammunition, conjuring up faces to go with the names provided that he can serve justice to when he lays down to sleep at night.
But he doesn’t do any of that. Not when she’s so happy and ignorant, completely oblivious to his internal struggle.
Instead, Joel leans over to press a kiss in the center of her forehead. Ellie melts into the affection as she always does.
“I’m glad you had a good time, baby girl.” He smoothes a hand over her head as she grins up at him.
When he retires to bed that night, it’s with a little bit of the weight on his shoulders alleviated only by his girl’s smile.
-
Joel tries to forget about it over the next few weeks, he really does.
But there’s something about seeing Tommy and Maria cradling Benji close whenever they’re over for dinner, or the families around town with young kids, holding hands and swinging them over the streettop as they stroll through Jackson. It stirs up a nasty feeling inside of him. Something akin to longing and jealousy, mixing with the residing anger that lives constantly simmering in his gut.
Ellie is oblivious to his inner turmoil over the situation he’s ultimately created for himself. Though, he thinks she’s caught onto something if the odd glances she throws at him every time he squeezes her too tightly or grips her hand for a beat too long say anything.
He can’t help it, really. Joel knows he’s been more than clingy lately, a tad bit more overprotective than he had been a few weeks ago if that’s even possible.
There’s been times he’s tried to reign himself in. A couple times where he’d tried to give her the space she’s entitled to, but it’s a lost cause whenever flashes of a tinier Ellie, small and scared and alone, go through his mind. Then he’s reaching a hand out to her, pulling her closer to him regardless of where they’re at, needing the assurance that she’s here with him and that he can provide what she’s definitely been missing for all those years.
That’s the other part of it. Joel’s filled with questions about the treatment she endured underneath a fascist government that only cared about training soldiers and not raising kids. The reality of it is, Joel knows, that the answers won’t bring him any sort of solace. If anything, it will only make the fire inside of him burn stronger until he’s marching all the way back to Boston himself to strike down anybody and everybody that had ever wronged his girl.
His suffering mostly comes from the part of him that aches to fix any and all problems his kids may run into. It’s coded into him, a natural instinct to heal and protect and soothe. He thinks it’s why he was put on this earth, his whole purpose being to take care of his baby girl’s. When he can’t do that, then what is he good for?
Joel already failed one of his girls. He’ll be damned if he lets another slip through the cracks.
It’s useless, though. What’s done is done and there’s nothing he can do to change that. He knows that. All he can do now is try to fill any void in Ellie that those lonely, horrible years left in her.
It still leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, fists longing for an outlet for the simmering anger under his skin.
He gets his chance to release some of his frustration sooner than he thinks.
Joel’s working on a house at the other end of Nethercott with Tommy and the rest of the construction crew when footsteps are suddenly bounding towards them. Their heads turn towards the sound and he’s barely able to let recognition set in that it’s his kid running towards him before his gaze refocuses on the boy hot on her heels. It’s the Sanderson’s kid, Wylie or something like that. Joel only knows him because of the various complaints Ellie’s brought home about him.
The boy is older, closer to eighteen he thinks, and a lot larger than his slip of a girl, and she’s complained about him pestering her too many times for Joel’s liking. It’s only for the sake of Ellie’s pride and dignity, as she says, that he hasn’t gone to the school himself to sort it out. Besides, his youngest is a spitfire if nothing else. He’s had no doubt that she can take care of herself.
Even Ellie knows her limits, though, and it seems that she’s in a bit over her head this time if the way she’s sprinting towards him says anything.
He’s just setting down the power saw in his hand when he watches the boy reach a hand out, snagging Ellie’s ponytail and yanking so hard that she flies backwards. She hits the ground hard and Joel can practically hear the breath leave her lungs on impact. He’s moving before he can think about it, Tommy faintly yelling his name behind him, and then he’s shoving the Sanderson kid so hard that the boy skids across the concrete a bit.
Joel’s chest is heaving as his rage festers and there’s no thought between his actions as he’s kneeling over the boy, gathering fists of his shirt to tug him up so they’re near eye level. Wylie looks at him with wide eyes, fearful and surprised as Joel practically spits in his face.
“You do not lay a hand on her, you hear me?” He seethes, giving the kid a harsh shake when he just continues to stare like a deer in the headlights. “I said you hear me?”
The kid is just beginning to sputter when Ellie’s voice cuts through the air.
“Joel!”
The shout breaks through the loud static in his head and he turns to look at her where she’s propped on the ground. Tommy’s hovering over her with outstretched hands but she pays him no mind. “I’m fine. Back off.”
Her voice is a bit breathless, likely still gaining her bearings from the fall, but it’s firm and demanding in the same Ellie way it always is when she’s trying to stop him from doing something stupid. Joel looks at the kid in his grasp one more time and scowls before dropping him back to the ground, letting him groan and whine against the street.
He stands to move over to Ellie, passing Tommy who has raised to aid the brat who dared to lay a hand on his kid. Judging by his brother’s expression, Joel doesn’t think he’ll be much help to the boy but they still have appearances to maintain — considering the little crowd they’ve gained with the commotion.
Joel doesn’t give a fuck about any of them though as he kneels next to his girl, cupping her cheeks in his hands and roaming his eyes over her to check for any injuries. He moves one hand to gently take her wrist, looking at where she skinned her forearm against the pavement. His teeth grind together so harshly he feels like they’re going to crack and he’s about to get up to continue threatening the boy when Ellie’s grabbing at his arm.
“Joel. I’m fine, seriously. I just want to go home.”
She’s looking up at him with pleading eyes and he’s helpless to do anything but give in. He takes her hands in his, pulling her to her feet and tucking her securely into his side. She goes willingly and buries her nose into his side as he looks over her head at Tommy.
“You got this?” He gestures his head towards the boy who’s now standing next to his brother, a sulking pout on his face. Tommy’s got a tight hand around the kid’s arm and Joel knows the boy is sure to have a bruise in the same place come morning.
“Yeah, y’all go on and get home. I’ll deal with him and we’ll come by later to take care of the rest.”
Joel gives him a nod, a silent thank you passing between them, and then he’s guiding his kid down the street to their home. Ellie stays silent even as he unlocks the front door and walks her inside to the couch. She just stays tucked against his side, hands wringing tightly together in front of her.
He leaves her sitting in the living room while he grabs their first aid kit from the kitchen. When he returns, she hasn’t moved from her spot, still sitting stiffly. He sits himself atop the coffee table in front of her.
“Can I see your arms, baby?”
Ellie raises them from her lap, letting him gently wrap his hand around her wrist to pull it toward him and observe the scrape from the asphalt. Joel takes out a disinfectant wipe and cleans the area with as soft a touch he can manage, apologizing when she hisses from the sting.
It reminds him of cleaning Sarah’s wounds when she was little, having just taken the training wheels off of her bike and patching her up after she’d fallen straight into the Adler’s rose bush. Those big brown eyes rimmed with tears staring up at him in betrayal when the disinfectant spray had the audacity to sting and his following act of reprimanding said bottle and throwing it dramatically over his shoulder just to make her smile.
Joel always bandaged his kid up with those flashy princess bandaids that Sarah just had to have and then he’d press a light kiss right over the same spot. Every time, his Sarah would smile and giggle and thank him for “fixin’ her right up with his magic healing powers”.
The memory sends a pang of something akin to hurt, but probably closer to fondness than not. It’s easier to reminisce on those earlier days now than he ever thought it would be. What does make his chest ache is when his thoughts turn toward the girl in front of him now.
Joel doesn’t try to kid himself into thinking that Ellie ever received magic kisses or fun bandaids for the times she got hurt, but did she ever have a gentle hand, at least? Someone to tend carefully to her pain and not let her leave until she was feeling better?
He thinks back to when they were on the road, a few months shy from the nightmare that was Kansas City. The scar that still lives on Ellie’s palm and her reluctance to tell him about the wound. Whether it was due to her own savior-esque guilt about not being able to save her friend or that she just didn’t think the cut to be a big deal, he doesn’t know for sure. But a little girl hiding that she took a switchblade to her palm and cut deep enough for the scar to have lasted even over a year later tells him that FEDRA didn’t take any injury seriously short of a gunshot to the head.
That simmering anger that has lived in his gut for the last few weeks returns in full. He blinks and Sarah is in front of him with those big puppy dog eyes and a wobbly bottom lip. He blinks again and it’s Ellie, younger and smaller and so, so frail that he has to tear his gaze away, distracting himself with unwrapping a bandage before he loses himself enough for her to notice his disarray.
“I’m sorry.”
The words are muttered so softly that Joel just barely manages to make them out. He looks back up to Ellie, whose face has gone downcast with her eyes purposefully averted from his. He frowns, setting the bandage and first aid to the side and leaning forward to rest a hand over hers where it’s fallen back into her lap.
“There’s nothin’ to be sorry for, kiddo.”
Ellie’s frown deepens and she huffs. “It wasn’t even my fault. Wylie’s just such a dick and he wouldn’t leave me the fuck alone, so I took a pair of scissors to that awful fucking rat tail he had–”
“You cut his hair?”
“Not the point, Joel.” She glares at him, exasperated. “I was doing him a favor. I didn’t think he’d get so fucking pissy, and then he got up in my face so I tripped him and then next thing I know the fucker is chasing me and he’s just so fucking big and–”
“Ellie, baby, stop. Stop.” Joel squeezes her hand, cutting off her rambling when her face starts to turn red from lack of oxygen. “You’re not in trouble, okay? Just breathe, you’re fine.”
She sucks in a deep breath as he brings his other hand back up to cup her face in his palm. He smoothes a thumb over her cheekbone as she regulates, leaning into his touch and letting her eyes fall close.
“I don’t care what you did or did not do, he has no right to lay his hands on you. Ever.” Joel taps a finger against her cheek, Ellie’s eyes fluttering open so he can level her with a look that says he’s serious.
“I’m gonna make sure that boy is dealt with, but you did the right thing coming to me, okay? If anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way, you come to me just like you did today.”
Ellie rolls her eyes, her lips quirking upwards ever-so-slightly. “So next time Tommy puts his sausage fingers in my food, you’ll beat him up?”
Joel snorts. “He won’t know what hit him.”
That pulls a better smile out of her, one that Joel mentally captures in his mind as he leans forward and presses a kiss to the center of her forehead. She falls into the affection as she always does, presenting her head for one more when he pulls away and he’s helpless but to oblige.
He lets go of her face and turns back to the half-unwrapped bandage that he had set aside, pulling it out and taking Ellie’s arm back into his hands. Joel gently applies the bandage over the scrapes, smoothing it out with a soft graze of his thumb and making sure it’s on all the way. Once he’s sure it’s not going anywhere, he leans down and presses a light kiss to the top of the bandaid, the same way he did with his oldest way back when.
Ellie’s face is unreadable when he sits back up. Her eyebrows are furrowed together slightly and she’s got the same thin line to her lips that she gets whenever she’s thinking about something. Joel continues to sit there with her in the silence, knowing that she’ll let him in the loop once she’s finished piecing her thoughts together.
“This is fucking weird.”
He’s taken off guard by the comment but forces his expression to stay neutral, inviting her to continue.
“What is?”
Ellie shrugs, face scrunched together still. “Just… this. You taking care of me.”
Joel’s face must betray him because she’s quick to correct herself.
“Not that you didn’t before! It’s just, it like- ” Ellie groans, frustrated. “When I was 7, I fell scaling a wall during training and broke my wrist. They made me go to the nurse and all she did was reset it, gave me a pack of ice, and sent me back to drills.”
There go Joel’s teeth again.
She carries on, ignorant to the quiet seething he’s partaking in. “I’ve never had someone worry about a scrape, or patch me up without being the reason for it in the first place.” Ellie looks up at him again and there’s a sea of emotions in her eyes that fill him with a mix of affection and heartache. “I’m just, really happy that I have you now. And all that other sappy bullshit.”
Joel swallows the lump in his throat and squeezes her hand.
“Taking care of you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done, kiddo. And all that other sappy bullshit.”
Ellie darts forward to wrap her arms around his neck, squeezing him until his lungs almost burn. He returns the hug in kind, burying his face in her hair and cupping the back of her head. He breathes her in, the familiar scent of his kid that grounds in the best way possible.
When she pulls back, it’s with damp eyes and a swipe of her wrist over her face. Joel pretends he isn’t in a similar state.
“Alright, old man. Quit crying over a glass of milk.”
“It’s spilled milk.”
She rolls her eyes, sticking her tongue out at him when he tugs at the end of her ponytail.
“Tomato, tomato.”
Then she’s gone too soon, out of the safety of his arms as she sits back against the couch and Joel aches to pull her back in. How desperately he wants to wrap her up in his embrace, hold her tightly against his chest and shield her from the rest of the world for as long as she’ll allow him to.
He musters up the rest of his strength to resist the urge to gather her in his arms and cradle her the way that no one ever had — the way someone should have — and instead moves to sit next to her as she flicks on the tv.
Her toes tuck themselves in their space underneath his thigh as she settles in against the end of the couch, queuing up one of her space movies that they’ve watched so many times that he should probably know the name of it by now.
Joel doesn’t pay it any attention, though. His eyes flickering to his girl every few minutes, oblivious to his fretting and completely absorbed in her movie as always. He’s content to have her right by his side, where she belongs. Even if it is an internal battle not to smother her.
He’ll take the win for now.
-
Ellie comes home from school crying.
Joel’s sitting at the kitchen table looking over blueprints for their latest construction site when he hears her come in. It’s almost halfway through the day, meaning she’s skipped out early to come home. It’s not a super rare occurrence, one that usually happens when it’s been what they’ve deemed a “bad brain day”. It’s clear almost immediately that she’s in a mood by the heavy thump of her backpack hitting the floor and the sound of her shoes flying against the wall when she pulls them off.
She gets like this, sometimes. Angry and dramatic and all of the teenage angst and rebellion contained in one small five-foot-nothing body.
Some days she’s angry at him. Angry over lies and betrayed trust and secrets, bottling up until it overflows and she’s pissed at him for a solid forty eight hours until she resets. They’ve talked through it before, multiple times in fact. They’ve come to an understanding of everything, a coexistence. Some days are just harder than others.
Today, though, seems different.
There’s a distinct lack of frustrated huffs and passive comments under her breath as she trails, notably not stomping, through the house. Joel figures something must have irritated her on the way home. Maybe she got word that it’s pork chop night at the dining hall, or maybe she’s got greenhouse duty again this week. Ellie likes to pitch a fit about mundane things just as any teenager would. It’s as refreshing as it is infuriating and Joel wouldn’t have it any other way.
When he finally rises from the table, intercepting her before the stairway, he’s only allowed a brief glimpse at a red face and teary eyes before she’s gone.
Immediately every alarm is going off in his head. He stands at the bottom of the stairs in shock and confusion as his thoughts spiral. He wracks his brain for every possible reason that would lead to his Ellie coming home in tears.
She didn’t look like she was hurt – not at the momentary glimpse he caught of her at least. Even if she was, it takes a lot for her to cry over it. Nothing short of a scalding pot melting off her skin would force such a reaction out of her, and even then she would still try to hide it from him. Something would have to be seriously wrong for Ellie to come home in such a way and the thought only freaks him out more.
Still, Joel tries not to go too off the deep end – even as thoughts of infected and raiders and cannibals flood his mind. They’re safe here, in Jackson, far away from a harrowing winter in an old resort town.
He sucks in a deep breath and holds it, oxygen burning his lungs like he’s choking on it because his entire body is in a panic and his little girl is upstairs, crying and alone, and he doesn’t know why.
Then go find out, you useless fucking idiot.
The voice in his head kicks his feet into gear, turning to take the steps two at a time. He’s outside her door with his hand knocking lightly against the wood before he even has a chance of thinking about what he’s going to say.
“Ellie?” His voice is soft, the same one he uses when he wakes up to her standing over his bed after a bad dream.
There’s a quiet sniffling sound followed by the shuffling of her sheets, and Joel can already picture her burying herself deep into a cocoon of pillows and blankets. She’s a bundler at her best and a human pillow fort at her worst with the way she hoards bedding.
“Go away.”
Her voice is muffled and scratchy and Joel’s heart clenches tightly in his chest. He sighs, dropping his head against the door.
“Come on, Ellie. Open the door.”
There’s a beat of silence before he hears her huff, then there’s more shuffling sounds and the patter of her feet against the floor before the door is ripped open. Ellie stands there with a deep frown adorning her face, eyes puffy and red. He notes that she’s changed clothes. She pointedly avoids his gaze, turning around and going back to her bed, flopping down gracelessly.
Joel lingers in the doorway for a moment before slowly stepping inside the room, perching himself on the edge of her bed. She’s facedown into her pillow, wiggling until the blankets are covering her frame once more.
He shifts awkwardly, wringing his hands in his lap as he glances between her and the wall. “Did something happen?”
Silence.
“Are you hurt? Someone do somethin’?”
“Joel.” Ellie groans exaggeratedly into her pillow.
“I swear if it was that Wylie kid again, I’ll-”
“Stop! Stop– nobody did anything, okay?” Ellie finally turns her face out of her pillow, sitting up to glare at him. Her ponytail is disheveled and the dried teartracks on her round cheeks send daggers straight through his chest. She falters a bit, “It… You wouldn’t get it.”
Joel can think off the top of his head at least a hundred things she could be referring to. Whether it’s a trauma thing or a teenager thing, she’s got more experience than he would ever wish for her. But one thing that he will always have her beat on is his incessant need and instinct to be a dad.
“Try me, kiddo.”
Ellie glances up at him, meeting his eyes for the first time since she walked through the front door. She looks so startlingly young in the moment, lost and trusting and confused. It’s all he can do to not wrap her up as tightly as he can in her pile of blankets and shield her away for the rest of all time.
She looks like she debates whether or not to answer for a moment before dropping her shoulders with a sigh. Joel braces himself for the answer, preparing to have to hunt down some snot-nosed kid or have to fight demons from his girl’s past that fucking refuse to leave her alone–
“I started my period.”
Oh.
Oh.
“Oh.” Joel nods his head, some of the weight on his chest dissipating as he hesitates. “Okay. Is there– Do you need, uh, something? I can grab Maria, if you want.”
Ellie shakes her head and presses the heels of her palms against her eyes, falling back against her headboard with another audible groan.
“No, I don’t need- fucking Maria or anyone. I’ve got everything I need, I just–” Her voice wavers before breaking off.
So something more has happened than just her time of the month.
Joel is no stranger to periods. Once upon a time, he had another teenage daughter who also lacked a mother figure and was stuck with his sorry ass to teach her the ways of the feminine world. As ill prepared as he had been, they managed. Sarah would have him unashamedly picking up pads and tampons and whatever else she requested every month, no questions asked.
Even after Sarah, there was Tess. In the QZ, supplies for those kinds of things were limited, as everything was. He’d traded more than once for hygiene products or medicine for her debilitating cramps, whether she asked him to or not. Hell, he thinks there were even a few times he washed those sacred, reusable cloth pads for her.
Joel knew what to expect travelling with a teenage girl. But between the constant physical exhaustion and the malnourishment on the road, Ellie’s body had mostly skipped out on the whole menstruation thing until they got back to Jackson. Even now, it’s not something they’ve ever really talked about. He doesn’t think this is her first period since they’ve been settled here, but it’s definitely the first one she’s brought to his attention.
A soft sniffle has his attention back on her and he forces any of the awkward tension clinging to his being down as he reaches out to wrap a large hand around her blanket-clad ankle.
“Hey, hey. Just what?” He squeezes lightly and softens his voice to the soothing baritone he uses whenever she needs comforting. “Talk to me, baby. There ain’t nothing to be embarrassed about, it’s just you and me.”
Ellie’s breath shudders a few times and it takes a couple minutes for her to collect herself, letting her hands fall back to her lap.
“I didn’t know I started my period. It’s– I’m early and I thought I still had a few more days, and my teacher stopped me when I was walking out of class, and I ruined my favorite pair of jeans–”
Her voice cuts off into a sob and Joel is moving up the bed to pull her into his arms. Her hands fist themselves into the front of his shirt and he cradles the back of her head in one of his own. She cries heartily into his shoulder and he shushes her softly with lips pressed to her hair.
“It’s alright, you’re alright. I’ve got you.” Joel soothes, gently rocking her back and forth until her sobs falter to hiccups and her tears slow.
“It was so embarrassing, Joel. There were so many kids around, and I have no idea how many of them saw and– Every time I start to feel normal, or like I’m finally fucking fitting in, something happens to fuck it all up.”
Joel pulls back slightly, just enough so that he can cup her face in his hands. She averts her gaze, staring down at her lap with her bottom lip caught between her teeth.
“Ellie, baby, look at me.” Those brown doe eyes meet his and he swipes a thumb across her cheekbone. “I know it feels bad right now, and I’m sorry this has got you so wound up, but I promise you, baby girl, this is normal. This is your body telling you it’s healthy and functioning, and that is a goddamn blessing if there ever was one.”
Joel moves one hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, “There ain’t a single thing wrong with you. Not one. And I guarantee you are not the first girl in your school to be in this same situation. Hell, probably not even the first girl in your class.”
Some of the tension leaves her, but she’s still not quite where he wants her to be. He swallows the lump forming in his throat and continues.
“Sarah–” The name has Ellie’s attention zeroed in on him, brown eyes widening in surprise.
“Sarah had an incident, this one time in middle school. She was stayin’ the night at a friend’s when she called me in hysterics, damn near three in the morning, ‘cause she bled through her sleeping bag. Had to come pick her up and take her home. Made an unfortunate joke about hosing her off in the backyard and spent the rest of the night trying to coax her out of the bathtub.”
Ellie giggles, quiet but just as radiant as the sound always is. “You threatened her with a garden hose?”
Joel fights a smile of his own and shrugs his shoulders. “Not my finest moment. She never let me hear the end of it either. Even had Tommy in on it, the two of ‘em teaming up on me to get whatever they wanted by bringing it up.”
“Sounds like you deserved it, old man.” Ellie speaks through her chuckles, eyes drier and lighter.
He softens and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, gremlin.”
She giggles quietly for a few more moments before falling back against him, letting him kiss the top of her head and card a hand through her hair.
“Thanks, Joel.”
Her voice is soft and meek, muffled as she speaks against the fabric of his shirt. He just squeezes her tighter.
“Nothin’ to thank me for, kiddo.”
He holds her tightly, relishing in the feel of her in his arms and the knowing that she feels like she can confide in him, still. Joel wants all of it. The period talks, and the teenage drama, and whatever else that may or may not get her worked up.
Joel wants her to come to him with everything. To let him take care of her with no expectations, without feeling like it’s something to be earned. To let him fix all of her problems and bandage all of her wounds and to understand that he gets to do this, not has to.
He’ll gladly take whatever she’ll give him and more. He’ll still just wish he could’ve done so sooner.
-
It’s later that same night that Ellie finds him in the recliner in their living room. Joel’s stewing on it once again, the thought of a younger Ellie – alone and unattended to, unnurtured and unloved.
After their talk in her bedroom, he had coaxed into taking a shower and then downstairs where he had fixed up one of her beloved egg sandwiches. She was seemingly back to normal, loud and silly and so unashamedly Ellie that his heart felt as though it could burst in her presence.
He loves her like that.
It made him think about how anyone could ever not love her like that.
Joel is the luckiest son of a bitch alive to have been given her after all of the shit he’s done, he knows that. It’s not something he ever takes for granted, either. But he’s greedy and he’s selfish. He has so much time to make up for with Ellie, and he can’t stop himself from being angry that he couldn’t have had more.
She was so close to him, too. All of those years, trapped living within the same four walls that made up the QZ, and he was none the wiser. He had no clue that the singular thing that would bring purpose and meaning back to his life was living no less than a few miles away. Even after he met her, there was so much time wasted– spent trying to delude himself into thinking that he hadn’t been taken with her from the moment he set eyes on her.
The incident earlier in the day reminded him that he hasn’t always been around. That she never had someone before him to wipe her tears or tell her embarrassing stories or remind her that she’s normal and so, so good.
Joel wonders if she even knew what a period was when she first started hers. Or if she just woke up one day and was led to believe that she was bleeding out. He wonders if there had been anyone there to tell her that it means she’s healthy, and that she’s not alone in her experience.
Then he wonders if she’s ever melted anyone else’s heart with those big brown doe eyes that he’s completely useless against. Joel wonders if anyone else was just about brought to their knees at the sight of them filling with tears the way he always is.
His mind is wracked endlessly with the same questions, new scenarios forming in his head with every passing day he gets to experience with her. The question permanently gnawing at him day to day–
“Who held you when you were a baby?”
Ellie’s just barely stepped foot into the living room when the question rips out of him, stopping her in her tracks. She gives him a funny look, one that’s gauging if he’s completely lost mind or not. Maybe he has.
“I don’t know, dude. Minders in the QZ, probably?” She walks further into the room, hesitantly, stopping in front of where he’s sitting. “Why are you asking like, now?”
Joel leans forward and props his elbows onto his knees, scrubbing at his face with his hands.
“Sorry. I’ve just been thinkin’ about it lately, what with having Benji around and all. All that time I didn’t get with you.”
Ellie shifts on her feet, body language going shy and there’s a faint tint of red on her cheeks. “That was like, forever ago, man. You didn’t even know I existed back then, it’s not like you could do anything about it.”
His hands fall, clasped together between his knees and he sighs heavily. “I know. It just kills me thinkin’ about it. A tinier you, with no one around to tell you how loved you are.”
Ellie’s breath hitches and he fears for a moment that he’s overstepped. Those aren’t words they’ve ever spoken to each other before, but Joel likes to think she knows how much he loves her by his actions alone. Maybe he should start learning to stop fucking assume things all of the time.
Joel looks up at her and takes in her rigid posture and the wave of timidness that radiates off of her. There’s an unreadable expression on her face and her hands are twitching anxiously by her side.
“I shouldn’t have said anything, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable–”
“Did you mean it?”
She cuts him off, eyes staring into his intently. The question takes him off guard for a second but he answers with certainty.
“Of course I do. I–” The words get caught in his throat briefly, “There ain’t nothing in this world that I love more than you, baby girl.”
Ellie blinks a couple times in an attempt to expel the sudden stinging behind her eyes. Joel gives her a moment, lets her gather herself without any expectation of a reply.
He doesn’t need her to say it back. He knows.
“Is this why you’ve back acting so fucking weird lately?”
Joel huffs a laugh and leans back against the cushion of the recliner. “Yeah, I reckon it is. I know it’s silly, I just can’t help it. The thought of nobody holding you as a baby, or a kid, or an annoying ass little tween–” He gets a middle finger in response to that one. “It’s a parent thing, I guess. Dwelling on things you wish you could’ve done better for your kid.”
Ellie swipes once at her eyes, wiping away tears before they’ve had any chance of falling. Her mouth forms a tight line and she nods her head in lieu of an actual response.
Joel gives her a small smile and a singular nod of his head back to her and lets his head fall back against the chair. He closes his eyes for a beat and exhales heavily. He should probably get up, drag Ellie upstairs and get them both ready to call it a night. He’s exhausted and he knows she’s probably in a similar state.
Just as he’s about to force himself back onto his feet, there’s a soft patter of footsteps against the rug and then there’s a weight joining him in the chair.
Ellie climbs in next to him, throwing her legs over his lap and burrowing her face into his shoulder. Joel freezes for half a second before he responds in kind, forcing an arm between her back and the armrest to wrap around her and hold her tightly to him. His other hand goes up to its usual place, cupping the back of her head and letting his fingers gently smooth down her hair.
He releases a breath he hadn’t known he was holding and it feels like all of the anger and pain he’s been carrying with him these last few weeks melts away. Ellie folds into his embrace as if the space was carved just for her, and she goes completely lax against him with a content sigh.
Joel can’t stop himself from letting his nose drop against the top of her head, breathing her in and cherishing the feeling of her in his arms in the way he’d so desperately needed her to be. Ellie smells like a mix of lavender soap, cotton, and the distinct scent that belongs to his kid alone. He presses a kiss to the crown of her head, shifting so that his cheek is pressed atop her head. His arms curl tighter around her and that ache in his chest that hasn’t left since that night with Benji alleviates all at once.
With one foot, he rocks them gently back and forth in the recliner. It’s reminiscent of the nights he used to hold Sarah like this, colicky and refusing to sleep unless she was rocked against his chest. It heals something inside of him, a salve to the aching longing he’s had for the times he couldn’t give Ellie this.
Maybe she’s too old to be held this way, cradled against him as the sway of the chair soothes them both. But neither of them seem to care. Not when this is likely the first time she’s ever been granted such a comfort.
Ellie shifts slightly in his arms, adjusting so that she can bury her face into his neck. The soft puffs of air against his skin are tiny reassurances to him – that she’s here, that he’s got her – and he leans his head atop hers once more and pulls her closer.
There’s no need for words between them now. The quiet creak of the chair fills the silence contentedly as he focuses on the present weight in his arms.
If he’d been asked twenty years ago if he ever thought he would find himself here, holding another little girl in his arms and counting every breath from her lungs as he clings as tightly to her as she does to him, he’d have rolled his eyes and drank himself into a coma.
Now, though, he takes every second that passes and commits it to memory, relishing in the moment he never should’ve been allowed again but is so beyond fucking grateful for nonetheless.
Eventually her breathing evens out and she’s fast asleep against him, tucked safely in his embrace and away from anything that could ever want to cause her harm. Joel continues holding her, the recliner still rocking and his fingers still carding through her hair. He steals these few minutes, holding his girl closer, sweet and docile against him, time stopping as he soaks it in.
Joel will gladly spend right now, and every chance he’s given for the rest of his life, making up for lost time. He didn’t get to have her early years, but he sure as hell isn’t going to miss a second longer of these ones.
Not if he gets any say in it.