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weasleydream · 2 months
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Is it not enough to intensely daydream a fanfic in painful, emotional and visual detail constantly for over a week? Must I also convert it to doc/word format as well?
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weasleydream · 2 months
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attention all writers! tumblr is rolling out a new feature that allows our work to be used in ai training processes!
be sure to opt out of this in your visibility settings immediately! and remember, you have to opt out for each blog, not just your main!
go to your blogs’ settings (again, you have to do these steps for each blog, not just your main blog)
scroll until you see “visibility” and choose that
in your visibility settings, choose “prevent third-party sharing for (blog name)”
you may opted out already but we don’t take chances with ai around these parts *insert angry cowboy*
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tagging some mutuals to get the word out — @multifandomsimagine @pegxcarter @moremaybank @gladerscake @goldenroutledge @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @drewstarkeyslut @drudyslut @tangledinlove @rafeandonlyrafe @mvybanks
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weasleydream · 6 months
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I want to write. I have ideas. I open document. I type four of the worst sentences ever created in the english language. I daydream the rest of the scene. I close document.
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weasleydream · 8 months
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no offence but i think a lot of us me included don’t actually want romantic love as badly as we think and really are just lonely and crave a closeness and intimacy that feels out of reach in friendships because of society’s emphasis on marriage and the nuclear family so we project that into the never ending search for a perfect love and a soulmate when really we all just want to mean something to someone
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weasleydream · 10 months
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Just realized that the reason I love making friends on tumblr is because it’s exactly how you make friends on the playground as a six year old. No, I don’t know their name but they love mermaids too and built this awesome sand castle. No, I don’t know their age but their imaginary cheetah is friends with mine. You like this show? You like this character?? You can sing the theme song really loud??? Here is a flower crown. Here is a juice box. You can share my time and I might never see you again but part of you stays in my soul forever. In my mind we’re still on the swing set and the sky is blue and nothing will ever be wrong again.
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weasleydream · 10 months
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love rebloggin 20 things out of nowhere at once then leaving
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weasleydream · 10 months
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weasleydream · 11 months
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sillies supreme
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weasleydream · 11 months
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weasleydream · 11 months
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Source: This
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weasleydream · 11 months
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congratulations, I'm so happy for you!!
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a spring festival // 3k followers and 3 years of this blog
May 1st marks the 3 year existence of this ridiculous blog and having reached 3 thousand(?!) followers a week ago, it is time for a celebration!!
i want to thank all of you for your love and support, whether you've been here from the start or just started following me yesterday! i appreciate every single one of you 🩷 let's get on with it then
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cherry - send me a song and a character and i'll write you a little blurb!
peach - for a book recommendation from my own bookshelves!
strawberry - for a line from one of my WIPs
apricot - for a random pic from my camera roll
plum - send me a character and i'll make a mini-playlist for them
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RULES:
you can send as many as you like but please keep the requests one per ask :)
characters go for harry potter, little women and grishaverse
open till June 13th
please share and join, thanks very much😘🩷
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weasleydream · 1 year
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TW: Lucien’s SA
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Speak your truth, even if your voice shakes
Lucien and Ianthe drawn by the incredible @: tangerine.eileen to spread awareness of Sexual Assault Awareness Month.
Link to post here.
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weasleydream · 1 year
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benevolence
you always imagined it your first kiss would be… softer, than it ends up being. but it’s joel. you probably should have known.
smut, 18+. age gap. joel is a grumpy old man who hates himself and reader is down bad.
~
The first time Joel kisses you, it isn’t romantic.
It’s angry - he’s angry. The clicker that just had its hands on you lies motionless a few feet away, mouth frozen in the open position it was in when Joel shot it. Joel is checking you over relentlessly for bites. He’s running his hands over your waist, flashing his light on your neck… fuck, he’s even tugging up the cuffs of your jeans to check your ankles.
“You don’t do that,” he pants, fuming once he knows you’re okay. You’re adrenalized, shaken up and not working off your best judgment. You meet Joel’s eyes.
“Don’t do what? Be on the wrong side of the room? Have the batteries run out of my flashlight? This wasn’t my fault, Joel.” Joel shakes his head, pissed, and he grips the nape of your neck. You didn’t even realize his hand is still there, sturdy and calloused. You bite your cheek. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Shut up,” Joel growls, and it makes you even more upset.
“I didn’t - stop blaming me. Stop making me feel like a dumbass, because I’m trying and I’m tired but I’m still better than half the people in the Q -”
Joel cuts you off before you can keep egging either of you on, his lips connecting with yours in a harsh and almost painful way. Your teeth clash, and Joel kisses you with so much force you almost fall, the only thing saving you being his strong arm wrapping around your back. You open your mouth, probably from shock, and Joel’s tongue does a quick sweep around the cavern when you do. Your hands fly up to Joel’s chest instinctively for balance, and you can feel his racing heartbeat under your palm. It makes you falter. You didn’t realize he was so worried.
You’re just starting to ease into it Joel stops.
His teeth catch your bottom lip as he pulls away, and you both taste blood. Joel steps away, the both of you just staring at each other, panting.
“Do you get it?” He asks, voice gruff. “Don’t fucking do that.”
You blink, years of pining and want pouring over you. You swallow, tasting just a bit of what you think is Joel.
“Yeah,” you tell him. “I get it.”
~
Afficher davantage
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weasleydream · 1 year
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From love and life
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a/n I feel like we might need some good old fluffy fluff with a tiny bit of angst. So enjoy! Any sort of interaction is so so so appreciated!🤍🫧
summary: you're heavily pregnant but your medical assistant is needed in a close by town. Emotions run high and a little someone decides to make an appearance, just the timing is not ideal.
Can be read as a part two to A slice of paradise but this is a standalone
warnings: pregnancy, birth descriptions, complicated delivery, blood, yeah...
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The kitchen was dim. The only source of light was the lamp that stood in the living room. The record player lightly filled the space with old tunes as you and Joel swayed in the middle of the kitchen. It was such a rear moment lately. There was so much going on that you two hardly spent time together. Well, now that Joel was refusing to do patrol, he was way more present and even more nagging on your pregnancy brain. Even if it came from the love that he felt for you and the baby, you wish he worried less. But then again, it was easier said than done.
Your arms were lazily draped over your lover's shoulders, head nestled into his chest. Joel's grip on your body was tender. Wearier of you falling by accident, so one of his hands was firmly supporting your back, the other lovingly cupping the side of your bump. As if he were including the babe in your little nighty dance as well. Humming the tune as you two twisted and turned. There was so much love at this moment. So much attentiveness. So much reassurance. That you were in this together. That evening was going to be okay.
Even in Jackson, it was scary to bring a baby into this world. It felt so fragile. In the beginning, it made you feel selfish that you even considered conceiving in circumstances like this. But then there was nothing more that you wanted. You wanted to make Joel a father again. Even if Ellie was your baby girl as it was. You just wanted to give him a chance to raise another one. Because you knew that the fatherly love that he had was endless.
"Sofie?", Joel muttered into the nothingness of the room, and you peeled your head off his chest, shaking your head, "No, no, that's what my neighbor back in Texas was called; she was a.. well, a whore". Joel chuckled slightly and said, "Okay, Sofie gets the chop then". This had been going on for some time now. You two didn't fuss about names at the beginning, but now that you could go into labor in a matter of days, it had become quite a headache. Ellie had presented you with lists of names for both genders. She was excited to become a sister. Well, when her doubts about actually being a part of this family didn't cloud her mind. In all honesty, Ellie's reaction to the news was way more positive than you imagined it to be. The last thing you wanted was for her to feel like she was suddenly losing her rights as your and Joel's daughter.
"What about Margo?", Joel said, hands resting on your sides now, as you two continued to sway. Something in your stomach almost flusters at the sound of that, and that sensation was quickly followed by a strong kick. Joel's face quickly turned into a pleased smirk. You opened your mouth, but Joel only shook his head, "You don't even have to answer darling, our baby girl agrees," you rolled your eyes at him, "You don't even know if it's a girl," "I do she just picked her name". His hands moved to lift the shirt you were wearing. One of Joel's shirts. Both for comfort and also because it smelled like him—that's what you told Joel when he first saw you in it. Plus, at this point, almost nothing fitted you. And not all occasions were fitting for a flowy dress, even if it made the bump look adorable.
Joel's tender findings rubbed your big bump, "You're a smart little one. You like Margo, Margo Miller, huh?" Joel's attention was fully on the baby now. A baby who was happily kicking inside your tummy. A baby that mostly only kicked for Joel. Already daddy's girl or boy. The bond they built was mind-blowing to you. But then again it didn't surprise you. Joel was by your side as much as he could. He talked, sang, and read stories to the bump almost every night. Not a morning was missed without kisses. This was another source of the proposal for Joel.
"Hate to interrupt you both, but I need a snack", you mumbled, brushing some of the hair from Joel's forehead away, "You are free to continue this upstairs, and you'll be much cozier in bed; bending like that will do a number on your back". Joel looked up at you, pretending to be utterly offended by your words, "Are you calling me old?", "I'm calling it snack break that leads to bed break", you gave him a bright smile before turning to search for a jar of pickles. Joel watched you happily munching, a proud smile on his face.
You were wobbling around the kitchen, adding refills of eggs and pancakes to Ellie's plate, when you heard a knock on the door. Joel was quick to move the chair, but you placed a hand on his shoulder, mumbling a quick I got this before moving towards it. "Tommy?", it came out more surprised than it should have, but then again, he rarely came by so early and in the middle of the week as well. The younger Miller glanced towards Joel. Swallowing worriedly, you could feel a sense of dread there. "Did something happen?", you asked, moving to rest your hand on his upper arm. Tommy exhaled carefully, "You might want to kill me, but let me…", "Get to it", Joel said firmly, not breaking eye contact with his brother. "There's an emergency in the nearby town. They don't have a medic good enough", Tommy's eyes were on you now, but Joel cut in firmly, "No".
You speared him no mind though, asking, "What happened?". You had been a medic before the outbreak. It had always been your passion, not just a job. So even the fact that the world fell apart didn't stop you from wanting to help those in need. "I'm not sure, but it's a boy, and he's five at best", he continued, but Joel shook his head. "Don't try to guilt-trip her", "Joel", you warned your lover firmly. "I'm not, but you don't have to; maybe you could just talk to them on the radio?" This had to be serious if Tommy was here in the first place. And the look on his face clearly showed that the morning hasn't been easy for him.
"Get the horses ready", you said softly, "Over my dead body are you riding", Joel was up and walking towards you now. "Rode, you just the other night didn't seem to complain then", you bit back, shooting him an angry look. Ellie snorted while keeping her head down, trying not to catch too much attention, but Joel's glare still landed on her. Messing with Joel in moments like this was dangerous. This man loved his family more than he loved his life. Nothing could stand in his way. And the one who tried never survived long.
"Y/N", he said firmly, "Joel", you repeated the manner. "You're eight months pregnant; this is out of the question", he tried to reason, but in the same way as him, you were stubborn. And if you set your mind on something, making you back away was almost impossible. "You are free to stay, old man", turning to Tommy, you nodded quickly, "Go, get them ready for me, will ya?". Tommy nodded and wasted no time as he slipped out of the house. He knew that Joel's scolding would come sooner or later, but for now, he was thankful to be off the hook.
"Love", Joel's tone was smoother and calm now, as he reached for your arms. You understood his worries, and yes, you were close to giving birth, but the ride was not that long, and you felt just fine. "Joel, I ain't leaving that kid to die", His jaw tightened as he searched your eyes. Now silently pleading for you to skip this one. "You're coming along or staying here?", Joel just shook his head, still frustrated, but he said nothing. Moving towards the stairs to pack a light backpack You knew the frustration would wear off eventually. With time.
"Can I join?", Ellie's voice made you turn to her. "If you want to", you told her. The area was safe and closely monitored. The trade roads were extremely important. At times, exchanging supplies was a crucial part of surviving. "Cool family trip! Like the old days", Ellie chirped. You couldn't help but crack a smile at it. It was quite a trip you all had. Coming to Jackson wasn't easy. It seemed like forever ago now. Yet the incidents lingered in the back of your mind. It still felt too good at times. Well, even the fact that you were pregnant now was a clear indication of how everything had changed. Back in QZ you and Joel were extremely careful. To get pregnant, there was a way to end up in a grave. Here in Jackson, however, it was more than possible.
The boy had an open fracture in his shoulder. A lucky one. An inch lower, and it would have pierced his heart. He was in a critical condition when you got there, but you didn't let your mind slip even for a second. Calm and collected. Not the slightest shake of your fingers. Only when he was laying in between the clean sheets did you let your mind slip, hand resting on your bump as you watched his chest move up and down. The sound of his mother's cries still swirling in your brain. How easy was it to lose someone you loved? Didn't need to be infected even. Anything could happen.
A hand that slipped on your shoulder made you jump. You turned to your side upon seeing Joel there. Your body instantly eased. Joel was scared the whole time you were in the operating room. He didn't move from the little window. Eyes watching you as you worked. Every minute that you stayed up on your feet made him more and more tense. This wasn't okay. You were too far along in your pregnancy to operate for three hours. Your body needed rest, not this. Only now did you realize how tired you were. But you couldn't show it. No, Joel would worry too much, and this was already far too much worrying for one day. So you squeezed his hand firmly before standing up.
You and Ellie were walking through the forest. Well, you were wobbling. Walking properly wasn't an option any longer. Joel was behind you both once again, keeping a close eye on you. You suggested you walked for a bit midway through the ride. Joel gave you a questionable look but nodded his head regardless. "So they just grow like this?", asked Ellie, looking at the bush that was covered in blueberries. You nodded your head, "They do. As a kid, I loved going into the forest to pick berries". It's been quite sometime now that she was a part of your life, but no matter how many stories you told her, Ellie still found things that surprised her.
You encouraged her to reach for the berry. Watching as her eyes gaped as the sweet taste hit her tongue. "Can we get some and make a pie or something?", she asked as she reached for another handful. You smiled at her softly, "Of course we ca-ahh,", you crunched forward. Bracing yourself on the tree that was by your side. Joel's steps picked up as he moved closer to you. Ellie's big eyes watched you. "Mom,", she asked worriedly, even if the tight look on your face eased. Joel's fingers wrapped around your forearms, steadying you. "It's nothing, guys; no one needs to worry", you said. Cupping the material of the long fabric beneath your bump for extra support. "You should sit down for a minute", Joel looked around, trying to find a place for you to rest somewhat comfortably.
"There's no need", you tried to sound calm, but another wave of pain hit you, making you grip Joel's hands. Ellie looked at Joel now. Worry seeped through her because even if she knew little about things like this, it didn't seem like nothing to her. "Y/N…", Joel rasped out himself, trying to undress what was happening. But you knew this wasn't nothing. Because you began to feel strange the moment you arrived in the nearby town. Then the pain picked up during the operation, but you were able to breathe through it. It didn't bother you all too much. You were sure you were good once it eased, but then you couldn't seem to sit on the horse as the pressure and pain increased. You knew this was something more.
"Don't get mad", you said through gritted teeth as the pain slowly eased, "I just… I felt", but it seemed like your baby was more than eager to do the speaking for itself as a warm trickle of liquid started to slowly trail down your legs. The material of your dress dampened. Another breathy exhale caught in your throat as you hissed. Joel moved an arm around your middle, "I fucking told you, shit", "Don't be like that", Ellie warned him quickly. Stress was not what you needed now, yet Joel didn't budge, "Like what? We're in the middle of the woods, and Y/N's water just broke". "Joel," you cried out in pain once more, both hands holding onto your tight stomach as even more liquid rushed down your legs.
"Fuck okay, come here", Joel told you, but you didn't want him to pick you up. "Dad ", Ellie rasped out, "It's okay, everything's okay, we'll figure this out". Joel wasn't sure if he believed it, but he had to. Someone had to. "Can you sit on a horse?", he questioned, but you shook your head straight away. His mind was blanking out for him. Heart racing. This was not how you were supposed to give birth. "I saw a cabin on the way here. It… was just over the valley", Ellie spoke up again, Joel nodded his head. This was the best chance you had because there was no way he was getting you to Jackson in time, "Lead the way, kiddo".
Joel lowered you just by the patio. He needed to go in first and make sure there was no one there. No infected, no raiders. That it was safe. Ellie felt like she was going to grow gray as she watched you grip the railing. She had seen Joe getting stabbed; she had been through so much shit. Put bullets through people's heads, but somehow nothing compares to this and the fear of losing you. "Hey, look at me", you caught Ellie's hand, "It's going to be okay", you rubbed your finger over her palm. "But what if you or the baby… we have no proper…", she rambled on, "Ellie, darling, it's okay". You could only imagine how scary this seemed to her. Considering that she had never seen anyone in a position like this.
"Your sibling is just slightly more excited to meet you", you chuckled slightly, and a little smile broke onto her face as well. "I'd rather she stayed in your stomach till we returned". You hummed at her words, "Funny thing about babies is they don't listen". She breathed with you through the next contraction. Doing and saying the things that she heard Joel say while you were making your way here. "Mom?", Ellie questioned once more as your face eased, "Everything will be okay, right?", you gave her the best smile you could manage, "Of course, babe."
But everything was far from being great. Joel had pulled an old mattress from the other room and placed it next to the fire that was burning in the fireplace. Ellie was anxiously changing the cold, wet cloth on your forehead as you panted rapidly, holding onto Joel's hand. They both felt helpless. Not sure how to soothe or help. The pain was evident on your face, and if at the start you could still speak between the sharp shooting daggers that ripped through you, now it seemed that you barely managed to even take a breath in between them.
Joel moved so he was kneeling between your parted legs. "Breath, love, you need to take proper breaths", his hand moved up and down your thigh, "Remember how we practiced?", you weakly nodded your head, "Of course you do, you're a trooper", "You need to check me," your hand moved towards your thigh. Joel shrugged off his jacket, quickly rolling up his sleeves. You probably would have told him how good he looked like this. But unfortunately for you, the pain was now the center of your consciousness. Joel gave you one more look as if he was asking for permission, and his hand slipped between your legs. "I feel it. I feel the head", he said firmly, and you nodded your head.
The progress was slow, or more like there was none. Your breathing grew more and more labored, yet no matter how much you pushed, it seemed to lead you nowhere, and the energy was slowly starting to leave your body. "Something isn't right", you muttered after another wave had eased. You had started to shake slightly. "What do you mean?", Joel asked you worryingly. Suddenly it all becomes awfully real to Joel. You could easily die. This could easily lead to him to losing you both. And with the amount of blood on the white material… Joel didn't need to have a medical education to know that this wasn't right.
"Tell me what to do", he tried to meet your eyes, but they seemed frantic. The panic was more than discouraging. No, Joel wasn't going to lose you both. That wasn't an option. "Y/N, look at me," he said as he moved closer to you, "We're going to do this". Joel turned to Ellie briefly, "You think you could find your way back to Jackson, kiddo?" Ellie nodded her head rapidly. She had helped as much as she could. Joel tried to keep her away from the blood, but he could do nothing about the screams and clear agony that you were in. "Okay, you need to go get the midwife and Tommy here", Ellie only managed to nod again. She was shaky and scared. But then again, in the same way as Joel, she couldn't lose you. With one last look at you, Ellie darted out, nearly falling off the stairs as she reached for the horse.
"Help me up. The gravity….", you muttered. Joel reached for your hands, pulling you up, before moving to stand against your back. You were all covered in sweat. Your lower half was drenched. You could feel the blood drying on your thighs and cracking as you moved. Please, you thought to yourself. If this went on any further, you were going to faint. Your body felt heavy. You could barely hold onto your knees as you pushed.
"I don't think I can…", you whispered, once Joel helped you to your knees. "Of course, you can", Joel said firmly, but you still shook your head, "This is my fault". But this time Joel cupped your face, making you look at him, "We're bringing this baby into the world, and you two will be just fine. I've got you. I'm with you. I believe in you" he said, leaning his forehead onto your damp one. Joel took a moment to breathe. You needed him to be strong now. He needed to be your rock.
You pushed and pushed, and minutes melted into what felt like endless nothingness. Joel's voice guided you through it all. You had no clue how he managed it, but he was holding onto one of your legs, giving you extra support to press onto something as you pushed. While the other occasionally slipped behind you, to help you push up. "Come on, one more, mama. One more", Joel's hand rested behind the infant's head as he looked back up at you, "Give me one big one, and we'll be a family of four". You did just that. With a deep breath, you pushed with all that you had left. Yet another scream ripped past your lips, and the pressure suddenly eased as your head fell back onto the mattress.
Joel quickly pulled the baby up as the loudest cry filled the living room. He couldn't help a smile; he couldn't help the tears that filled his eyes. Joel reached for his jacket, quickly wrapping the babe in it, and rocking it gently. "Hello, gorgeous, look at your cries", he cooed at the newest Miller for a moment before his eyes moved up to look at your tired face that was now covered in tears as well. "So…", you trailed off as Joel leaned over to you so he could rest the baby on your chest. "Dad had a good intuition", he teased, and you felt another wave of tears coming. "A girl", you muttered, looking down at the pruny baby in your arms. "Oh, you sweet angel", your finger carefully traced her cheek, "As stubborn as her mom too". Joel moved behind you, making sure that you were comfortable as you rested against his chest. "She has your eyes", you muttered, looking up at your lover, who looked down at you lovingly. "Can you believe that we made her?", he asked. You shook your head, "I'm still mortified that this is a dream".
The sudden noises outside made you both perk up. Joel reached for the gun, pointing it straight at the door. Just as breathless Ellie fell into the room. Behind her, a dark-haired lady rushed into the living room. Smiling at the sight of the baby bundled up in your arms, "Look at you three, good job, and congratulations". Lydia was the main midwife in Jackson. She cupped your cheeks, stealing a glance at the baby before moving to look at the mattress.
"Check her first, Lydia,", you asked her, but the lady only shook her head, "No, darling girl, you're still bleeding, and the baby with lungs like that is more than healthy". You wanted to argue, but the chaos of the room suddenly made you feel dizzy. Your mouth went dry. "You two, baby, and Ellie, out of the room now", the midwife pointed quickly to the two Miller brothers. "What's going on?", Joel asked, yet no one answered him as Lydia pulled your body up and away from Joel. Only now did Joel see how pale you were. But Maria placed the baby into his arms before pushing them all out of the room.
Joel's worries didn't die. They were clouding his brain. You were fine just a moment ago. You talked and… But then he saw Ellie's big eyes searching the room. She looked so small. So lost and so scared. "El", Joel called out lovingly, making her snap her head towards him, "Want to see your sister?". A long-lost sparkle gleamed in Ellie's eyes. "A girl?", she muttered under her breath. "Margo. Unless your mom changes her mind", Ellie stepped closer, careful as ever. As if too big a step might harm the baby somehow. Her hands stayed by her side as she looked at the baby in Joel's arms. "She needs a bath", Ellie muttered, Joel laughed slightly, "Yeah, we can give her one after", she nodded, her eyes never leaving the infant.
"Can I… I don't have to", she trailed off, "Come here, make sure you support her head", Joel made room on the rundown sofa that was in the room they were rushing into. Ellie's arms were stiff. She stopped her breathing for a moment. "She's so tiny… Hi", the baby grasped onto her finger, making Ellie look up at Joel as if she was asking if this was okay, but he only smiled at her. "You reckon she knows who I am?", Ellie asked. Joel leaned in to kiss the side of her head. "After all the dance parties you had and the cookies you made? I think you are already best friends". Ellie nodded her head in approval, yet her eyes darted to the door and asked, "And mom?".
Here was where Joel didn't know what to say. He wanted to reassure her but he couldn't. Because he didn't know what was going on. What if you were dead? A cold shiver ran down his back. No, you couldn't. His chest started to grow heavy all of a sudden. But the door swung open, and Joel had stood up at lightning speed. "Lydia,", he called out, bracing himself for the worst, but the old lady just gave him a warm smile. "She lost a bit more blood, but everything is okay. She's all cleaned up; you three should head to her", Joel practically sank to the floor as those words filled his mind. Whoever was guarding him was working overtime. He turned to Ellie, but she was already walking through the door with Margo in her hands. "You did a good job", Lydia squeezed Joel's hand, "Go have some family time with your girls".
Ellie was nestled by your side, silent tears falling down her cheeks as you held her close. Joel stepped in as quietly as he could, but his eyes instantly found yours. You gave him a weak smile. You knew he could tell just how tired you were. "I'm so outnumbered by females now," he said as he sat down by your other side. Moving your hand to his lips as he kissed it. He nudged Ellie slightly, feeling even more ease slip through his body as she giggled. "You're destined to be a girl, dad", you muttered, running your hand up and down the baby's back as she started to fuss.
"I think someone's hungry", you said, trying to get more comfortable. Joel instantly stood up so he could pull you up slightly, reaching for a spear blanket before putting it behind the makeshift pillow. The suckling noises filled the space within seconds, as Margo happily latched on. Her tiny fist flexed in the air. Ellie instantly moved her finger for Margo to grasp; her tiny fingers wrapped around it, and her fussing eased as she ate.
Joel just watched you three, his hand resting on your thigh. This was both the scariest and most beautiful experience ever. He got to bring his baby girl into the world. He had missed Sarah's birth back then. Only got to see her wrapped up in a pink blanket hours later. It had eaten at him for years. He knew he wanted to be here this time. There was no doubt, and now, after everything, he thought that it couldn't have been more perfect.
"You're okay?", your fingers squeezed his thigh gently, making him turn to you. "Yeah, just thinking about how perfect you are and how much I love you all", you couldn't help but smile, mumbling a quick I love you back to him. It was Ellie who was struck by those words the most. She knew that you both loved her. You had told her that many times, but Joel had never directly spoken about it. "I love you all as well", she mumbled back. Joel glanced at her as he reached for her hand.
"You reckon we could all fit on this", you spoke up after a minute, already starting to feel tired again. "I take the left side", Ellie said quickly, once again moving closer to you. "Who said we're allowed to call dibs", Joel questioned teasingly. "You snooze, you lose", she stuck out her tongue as you brushed some of the hair away from her face. "There's plenty of space for everyone to get a cuddle", you said softly as Joel slipped behind you, your body melted into his tender chest. One of his hands sneaked behind yours so he could support Margo, who was still feasting. Joel pressed a kiss to your shoulder. Life had both taken away from him, but then gave him so much more. His other hand rested on Ellie's back protectively. This was both empowering and crippling at the same time. Between Joel's arms was his whole world. World that was made up of you three. His biggest treasure. His most prized possession.
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weasleydream · 1 year
Text
Not So Heavenly Surprise
prompt: you share exciting news with your husband but don't receive the reaction you thought you'd get. and then, the Outbreak.
pairing: Joel Miller x female!wife!reader only height mentioned: you're shorter than Joel
fandom: HBO's The Last of Us
word count: 7.2k+
note: nothing really, i'm just trying to process other feelings so this got a little angstier than i anticipated.
warnings: angst, angst, angst, slutty angst club, cursing, character death, major major major spoilers, death of a child, descriptive language - we talk about death and dead bodies!!! canon-level violence! NOT edited!!! (will get around to it) this work is super NOT FOR MINORS ❗️season one, episode one spoilers
🔞 none of the following content is appropriate for minors 🔞 ❌ all taglists are discontinued 🚫 i do not give permission for any of my work to be posted, copied, translated, or uploaded to any other platforms 🚫
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September 02nd, 2002 one year before Outbreak Day
"You're going to have to tell him," you sighed to your reflection, trying to amp up the bravery. "He's gonna notice, you don't want him questioning anything, now do you? No, nope, no way, you don't. Okay, so, that's it - you're gonna tell him when he gets home. No big deal."
There was a knock at the door, Sarah calling, "Are you okay in there?"
"Girl!" You laughed, reaching for the knob and opening it to see her. "Ever heard of this thing called 'privacy'?"
"Not in this house," She smirked. "Can I get in? Wash my face?"
"Oh, yeah, totally," you moved out of her way, continuing with your nightly routine.
"So, who were you talking to?"
"Myself," you mused. "It helps me work out big decisions."
"Oh, so, you're finally gonna tell Dad you're pregnant?"
"What!?" You yelped, dropping the jar of night cream and groaning when it dolloped out from the fall - landing on your foot. "What the hell, Sarah?"
"What? You're surprised I figured it out?" She teased. "I found the pregnancy test."
"What? You were digging in the trash?"
"Well, if you must know, I dropped the toothpaste in there and found it when I was fishing it out..."
"Sarah," you sighed.
"You know he's going to be really happy, right?" She smiled at you, massaging her cheeks to curate foam from her face wash.
"Maybe," you sighed, stooping to clean your mess. "But I've been trying to figure out what to say."
"What's to say? Just tell him," she giggled. "C'mon, you guys have been married 8 years now! Isn't this, like, what was supposed to happen?"
"Well, yeah, but - "
"But nothing," Sarah laughed. "You're getting all nervous for nothing. It's just Dad, he loves you. He's going to be happy, I promise."
You sighed, nodding slowly, "All right, well, I'll try to tell him tonight."
"There is no try, only do."
"You did not just quote Star Wars to me!"
"Well, is Yoda wrong?"
You whined a little, "No..."
"So, get it done," she smiled. "This is really exciting."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," she smiled, "I've always wanted to be a big sister."
"You'd kick ass as one," you agreed.
"Think how upset and flustered Dad will be when I teach Baby to curse!"
"Sarah, you teach the kid any curse words and I'll wash your own mouth with soap," you teasingly warned with a pointed finger. "I'm a little nervous, I think," you admitted.
"Why? Daddy loves you, he'll be really happy," Sarah defended. "Maybe a little shocked, but he'll be over the moon with joy."
"You think?"
"I know," she nodded. "Tell him tonight!"
"Tell who, what?" Tommy asked, appearing in the doorway to make you both shriek.
"What happened!?" You heard Joel, but then, everything was drowned out as you and Sarah started yelling at Tommy for scaring the shit outta you both. Joel appeared in time to see his little brother throw his hands up in defense, laughing at the two of you.
"Not cool, man!" You barked, shaking your head. "Didn't hear y'all come in, the hell's wrong wit'chu?"
"Y'all didn't lock the front door, again," Tommy smirked. "I came up real quick and quiet."
"Jackass," you muttered, wiping your hands on a towel before exiting the room. "Hi, baby," you muttered to Joel, pausing to rock onto your toes and plant a kiss to your husband's lips.
"Hi, honey," he mused, arm anchoring your waist. "What's with the screamin'?"
"Your brother's an ass," you pouted, giving your best exaggerated bottom lip.
"You had it comin', darlin'," Tommy teased. "Told you to lock up, huh?"
"Why're you even here? Why are you always! Here!?" You whined lightly. "Go home!"
"I'm staying the night," he mocked gently.
"You better not clean my fridge out," you warned him with slitted eyes. "I just went to the shop."
"You get them cookies you like?" Tommy perked a brother, watching your eyes widen a small fraction. "YOU DID!" Tommy laughed, turning, and bolting down the stairs - making you yelp and start yelling after him, following closely.
Joel and Sarah could be heard laughing from upstairs.
It was close to midnight by the time you and Joel finally settled for bed. Sarah's homework was done, whole family fed, Tommy was nursing a bonked head with a small ice pack, and you and Joel were turning your bed down.
"Hey, uh," you cleared your throat as you both got in the sheets, "so, I was wonderin' somethin'."
"What's that, sugar?"
"What do you think of when you consider the future?"
Joel paused, then shrugged, "We go to Nashville with Sarah this summer."
"No, baby, I mean the future - like, years from now."
Joel chuckled, "Uh, I don't know, baby, I just think of you and Sarah and Tommy... There's not many others left 'round."
"That's all?"
"I don't know, I think sometimes when Sarah goes off to college, that girl's goin' on a scholarship, you know? So, you and I could maybe take some time for a vacation. Finally take you on that honeymoon I promised."
You hummed, settling against his chest, "Where we goin'?"
"You know I'd take you wherever you wanted," he sighed, "but maybe we could afford... I don't know, trip to... Vegas?"
"So we can renew our vows with Elvis?"
"Why not?" He chuckled, squeezing your hip. "Might be fun, right?"
"You just wanna see the strippers."
"Can you blame me?"
You laughed and smacked his chest, "Easy, mister, you're on thin ice."
Joel laughed lightly, "You know I'm teasin', darlin'. C'mon, anywhere we could, where would you go?"
"Oh, the Maldives, without a doubt.," You smirked. "But how about we keep it simple? Go to, say, Paris?"
Joel snickered, "That's simple?"
"City of Love for our honeymoon? Baby, I'd say that's more cliché than anything. Besides, don't you wanna kiss me at the top of the Eiffel Tower?"
"'Course, sugar, but the food there?"
"Oh, like you've ever been!" You laughed, looking up at him. "Don't talk shit when you don't know."
"Hmm," he considered, "solid advice, sweetheart."
He reached out to caress the side of your cheek, making you sigh, "One thing's missin' though..."
"What's that?" Joel smirked.
"We'd have to find a babysitter."
"Sarah will be older than - "
"No, no, baby, not talkin' 'bout Sarah."
"Who, then?" He chuckled. "Tommy? Though he likes proving us wrong, he can take care of himself."
"No, I'm talking about a babysitter for us."
"Lost me again, sweetheart."
You stared at him for a moment, then admitted, "I'm pregnant. So, we'd need to find a sitter 'cause we'd have a little one by then." However, Joel just stared down at you, brows slowly furrowing as he processed your words. "Joel?" You wondered when he didn't answer, but instead, looked off past you. "Honey, you still with me?"
"I heard you," he grit, making you instantly sit up and off of him.
"Joel?"
He sighed deeply, "Why'd you have to do that?"
"I'm sorry?"
Joel sat up and swung his legs from bed, making you feel instantly smaller than you actually were. "Why'd you have to go and do that? Huh? Get pregnant?"
"Joel - "
"No, what the hell's this!?" He demanded, looking far too upset than you ever considered. "You're pregnant? You're really pregnant?"
"Yes - "
"God fuckin' damn it!" Joel swatted at a lamp, knocking it over, and waking the entire house - not that either Tommy or Sarah were asleep yet. "You can't seriously be pregnant!" Joel barked at you, and if he could, you knew he'd be gnashing his teeth.
"Why is this such a shock?" You asked. "This is what happens when you're married - "
"You were supposed to be on birth control!"
"It's only so much effective when you're cumming in me like some sex doll!" You snapped back, aware of your loudness.
"Don't turn this on me!"
"I'm not! Fuck's sake, I'm happy about this!" You stood from the bed, too. "I'm happy we're havin' a baby! Why're you reacting this way?"
"We can't afford a baby right now!" Joel looked enraged now. "We don't got the space - fuckin' Tommy crashes the couch! Where we puttin' a whole baby, huh? Where we puttin' a kid? How're we gonna afford more groceries? More schoolin'? You didn't think this through, now, did you!?"
"Fuck's sake, Joel, do I need to give you a sex-ed course? Explain how you're just as much in this as I am? I didn't do this to myself, we both took risks - but I didn't think this was gonna be an issue! I thought you'd want this!"
"When have I ever said I wanted another kid? Huh? Don't put words in my mouth, woman! I got Sarah, ain't no kid better than that! Why would I even want to bother? Knowing our situation!? You think you're ready to be a mom? All you do is work, and it makes you a pretty shaky stepmother! Neither of us are in a place to just stop and take care of a kid, we're in too deep with our current bills!"
You felt too stunned to speak, every defense you had lowering in pure sadness as tears collected in your eyes. "You serious, right now?"
"Completely," he sighed, hands to his hips.
"So, you... You don't want this baby?"
Joel's jaw flexed. "Not right now, no."
"Okay," you sighed.
"I can't take care of another kid," he shook his head. "Look, why can't Sarah be enough? You've known her her whole life."
"Why is it so wrong to wonder what it's like to be pregnant? To have my own child? Since you have Sarah."
"We have Sarah," he snapped.
"No... We don't, since I'm only a shaky stepmother."
"I didn't mean it like that."
"No? How'd you mean it?" You wondered sarcastically. "Maybe that I won't be a good mother? That you don't want a kid with me, is it? Whatever, Joel, look, there's no compromise here. You don't want this baby, but I do... So, this it is."
"What is? To what?"
"Us," you sighed, gesturing between you. "If you really don't want this baby, then I don't see how we can still participate in a marriage."
"The fuck - "
"I won't stay where I'm not wanted."
"I want you, just not the baby!"
"So, understand this. Because I'm growing that baby currently, you simply don't want me. So, it's all right, now. I'll get my shit and get out, figure out what to do movin' forward, and I'll have the divorce papers sent - "
"Like hell, you are!" Joel raged.
"How're we gonna fix this then!?"
"Fuckin' Christ, woman, you really know how to piss me off! This ain't my issue - this is your problem. But we ain't gettin' a divorce, so, you better figure it out."
You scoffed, "Who the hell even are you?"
"Come again?"
You gestured at him, "This is not who I married."
"Neither are you. When we got married, you said Sarah was more than enough - "
"You know what? Feelin's change!"
Joel scoffed, "Yeah, fuckin' tell me 'bout it."
"Wow," you sighed, turning for the closet, muttering, "wow, wow, wow, wow, WOW!"
"Fuck!" Joel snapped. "C'mon, doll, don't do this."
He watched you pack a suitcase frantically, the fight continuing to wage farther into the night. Back and forth, you two went round after round after round, trying to make the other understand and see reason. To Joel, it was a matter of financials and space. To you? It was everything else.
By 3 am, you had finally packed your necessary belongings into two bags - a suitcase and purse - before you were charging down the stairs with Joel still hollering after you. Tommy was in the living room, pacing, and Sarah was laid on the couch, eyes red and swollen as she clutched a pillow to her chest. You came to a halt when you saw them both, Joel still sneering but silencing himself when he saw what you stared at.
Just like that, he understood his brother and daughter had heard every word he shouted at you, and never had he felt such shame. You swallowed harshly, nodding at Tommy before looking to Sarah. With a wobbling smile, you managed to garble, "I'm sorry."
"Mama, wait!" Sarah gasped, shooting off the couch as you fled for the front door; Tommy catching her around her waist. "No! No! Daddy, go get her! Don't go! Mama! Please! What's happening? Why won't you go after her!?"
But to Tommy's shock and horror, Joel silently descended the stairs to push the front door closed and locked it - bolting them inside and his wife outside. "Joel," Tommy shook his head, confusing marring his features. "The hell happened?"
But Joel only sighed, turned, and headed up the stairs again. Not a moment later, his bedroom door closed - making Tommy release Sarah. She rushed to the door but stopped, only staring out, and Tommy understood she could no longer see your car.
"Hey, Sarah?" Tommy called softly. "You can stay home from school tomorrow. All right?"
She only nodded silently, taking a seat at the front door and just watching. He frowned, wanting to shoo her off to bed, but understood that her child-like mind could only understand so much. She wanted to wait for you to come home, she wanted to see you coming... However, the following morning, Joel found his daughter slumped against the front door and his brother on the stairs from watching her.
His heart had plummeted to his feet when he saw them, more so when he understood you weren't home. The house already felt colder.
September 26th, 2003 Outbreak Day
Your daughter was barely a few months old by the time "it" happened. After leaving Joel, you went home to your parents and they were gracious enough to welcome you and the babe growing in your womb.
They made up your childhood bedroom into a nursery and let you transform their home office into a spare bedroom as your little brother was living in the guest room and older sister in the basement. It was an incredibly tiny room, but it worked for now; and your little girl was a ray of sunshine that you barely noticed how miserable you truly felt.
You hadn't seen Joel since the birth... And before that? Not since your fight. He really didn't want shit to do with your daughter, and while you always told him when your appointments were, he never showed. When you went into labor, your father was the one who called him because you only sobbed through the pain that you wanted your husband. So, Joel showed that day, but didn't go into the delivery room. He just waited outside it, listening, feeling his heart shatter again and again as you begged someone to find your husband, but no matter how your mother and father begged him to go in, he wouldn't. He couldn't.
It was only after the baby was born did he venture in.
You looked beat to hell and the sheets seemed bloodier than usual, but he didn't want to linger. He only nodded at you, hands in his pockets, "Good job... She's real beautiful."
You blinked, glancing over to where a nurse was swaddling the just-cleaned baby. "Thank you," you whispered. Then, he turned to leave, "W-Wait!" You begged, making him pause. "Don't you... I-I don't know, want to help name her?"
Joel sighed, glancing at you over his shoulder, "No, 's all right. Whatever you want, she's your daughter."
Your heart broke all over again, watching him leave. So much so, when the nurse brought your daughter over for you to hold, you broke down in horrendous sobs that the nurse actually shied away. You couldn't breathe from the pain, and it actually set off a few alarms on your hospital monitors.
Your mother watched in despair as a team of professionals had to sedate you in order to calm you down enough; holding her grandbaby and rocking her arms. She waited for days, hoping you'd ask to hold your daughter, but never did. Only when the lactation expert came in to help you nurse your daughter did you actually "willingly" hold her.
It just broke your heart to even look at her because she looked so much like Joel that it should've been illegal. Eventually, you came around and felt as if you couldn't set the baby down, but for the first few days were exhaustingly tough. Your parents were a huge help, but that didn't make it easier on you to try and process life without Joel. You loved your husband, wanted him back, but after his behavior, you couldn't fathom being within 6 feet of him again.
However, life had much different plans.
You didn't feed your baby formula, opting for breast feeding. Ironically, during your pregnancy, you had developed an intolerance to gluten and never wanted flour-products even after giving brith to your daughter. However, your father loved your mother's cookies...
It was nearly 2 am when it happened.
Your father had been the first "Infected" of the family, and only your mother was in their room with him. You heard the thumping and screams, peering out of your room only to see blood pooling from under your parent's closed bedroom door. "Get back," you hissed at your little brother, darting down the hall to your daughter's nursery.
"DADDY! NO!" You heard your brother scream a minute later, panic enveloping you as your daughter started to cry.
"No, no, no, it's okay, hey, hey, it's okay, sweetheart," you whispered, trying to shush her. There wasn't time to spare, and just as you secured your daughter to your chest with tight arms and made it from her room, your father came barreling out of your little brother's room - scaring the shit outta you. "D-Daddy?"
He snarled, neck snapping when he looked at you - but that wasn't your father. No, this creature was something else and while it was in your father's body, it wasn't your Daddy, and you weren't safe here.
"Down here! NOW!" Katie, your older sister called, making you shoot off down the stairs in a blind panic. Your father came crashing down behind you, knocking into your legs as you reached the bottom - forcing you to turn over and land on your back to protect your kid.
"OH MY GOD!" You screamed when your father bolted upright.
"STAY DOWN!"
Your sister swung her softball bat, knocking your father's head back with a sickly snap. He went down, and for a moment, it was all quiet. "What the fuck?" You panted, baby still crying.
"I don't know," Katie panted, reaching for your arms and helping you up. "I-I didn't - I didn't think," she stuttered, looking at your father, who's head was split open and spewing blood. "I-I killed him."
"Between us?" You nodded, "Think he was already dead."
"Where's Mommy? And Billy!?"
"Upstairs..."
"You don't think...?"
"Should we check?"
"What if they're alive and we just left them?" She worried, blinking back tears. "I-I don't know what to do."
"I think we need to get the fuck outta here," you admitted, looking around you two. "We aren't safe here, Katie, we should move."
Just then, there was a thud from upstairs. Your sister uttered your name in fear, and you had to steel yourself. "What do we do?" She whispered.
"Kitchen, there's only one door and the basement," you nodded, the two of you turning and hustling into the room. You looked around and found a long cerated knife, standing at the ready with one arm around your baby.
"What's gonna come for us?"
"Whatever the hell happened to Daddy," you gulped. "I still think we should run for it."
"But Mama - "
"She's probably dead!" You snapped. "But we aren't. We don't have to die if we play smart. I say, we get what we need and get the fuck out of here."
However, before she could answer, there was a snarling from outside the door. Your baby still cried, and soon, the door was bursting open with your mother's Infected body being hurled through the door. Your sister begged your name in a yell and you repeated at her that it's not really your mother - keeping the kitchen island between you three - and that she needed to swing the bat.
However, your little brother came barreling inside right after and knocked into you. It was a struggle as you had to let go of your baby to keep the 10-year-old demon off your body; hip teeth gnashing as pale tendrils came curling out of his mouth.
"NO!"
You couldn't look back at your sister, struggling to keep the suspiciously-strong boy at bay. You used your feet to kick him off you, snatch up the knife, and as he came back - snarling and screaming - you only stabbed the knife up into the underside of his jaw. Yanking free, blood and more came gushing out, and your brother when down.
When you turned, your sister was panting and leaning against a counter. Mother laid dead at her feet. "You good?" You asked.
"Yeah... You?"
"Yeah," you sniffled, moving to collect your baby from the bloody linoleum floor. "Can we get the fuck outta here now?"
"There's no more threat."
"Seriously?" You snapped. "Honey, if it happened here, it's happenin' elsewhere and we need to fucking move before we get left behind. Understand me?"
But then... There was a sickening sound from the only other door in the kitchen... The one leading to the basement...
"Katie?" You called your sister's name, "it's time to run."
"GO!" She screamed when a new body, that of your next door neighbor, came bursting through the door. You both ran, your daughter tight to your chest, and just made it outside your family home when a truck was screeching to a halt.
Joel leapt from the passenger seat, hollering your name in panic, and making you shoot off like a Roman Candle towards him. He caught you easily, holding you and your infant close to his chest as Katie came sprinting from behind you - taking cover behind Joel.
"What - "
"JOEL!" Katie screamed, pointing towards the body rushing from your home.
"Tommy!"
There came a gunshot, making you flinch into his chest as he turned you from the sight. "Get in the truck," Tommy called, Sarah opening the door from the inside to invite Katie in.
"We gotta go, darlin', it's time to go, let's go," Joel muttered to you.
"What the fuck is happenin'?"
"We don't know, but it's bad," he nodded, looking around frantically. "We need off the streets, baby, please, get in the truck."
But you paused, asking him, "You came back for me?"
"For the both of you," he sighed, caressing the top of your daughter's head - who still wailed in fear. "Please, baby, it's time to go - get in the truck." When you did, he rambled, "Thank you, thank you, thank you, all right, Tommy! Let's go!"
When everyone was in and doors shut, a new game began: Get the Hell Outta Dodge.
During the ride, Tommy and Joel filled you and Katie in with what they knew from the broadcasters that were once on the airwaves. Sarah held onto you tightly, infant child still wriggling in your lap and arms. You were trying to flee the suburbs, making for the highway, but it seemed, everyone else who hadn't been killed off had the same idea and created intense traffic.
"We're okay," you whispered to Sarah on repeat, almost in a chant. Katie frowned and slowly reached over Sarah's lap, taking hold of your daughter. You slowly let go only to latch full onto Sarah and try to comfort her with slow rocking and cooed words of encouragement. Joel knew that in your time apart, you and Sarah saw each other often - nearly on a daily basis - and could understand that you were her mother, through-and-through.
You both needed the comfort right now.
Someone to lean on.
Someone to be scared with you instead of saying "buck up."
"Take the field, Tommy!" Katie barked from the back, holding your screaming baby to her shoulder and trying to offer her warmth and comfort. However, it was impossible with the tangible panic and loud blaring of horns and cursing voices. "We can cut across and pick the road up on the west side."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. West, West, all right. All right, hang on," he turned the wheel, everyone bracing for the sharp movement before the bumping of the terrain became wildly uneven.
Around them, other cars followed suit, and the field was soon flooded with civilian cars trying to flee. "The fuck could be happening?" Katie asked you, gulping, "You're the doctor!"
"I-I don't fucking know, Katie, please," you whispered back, gulping in nerves as Tommy drove you all over the grass.
However, when they came over the hill to catch sight of their destination, there was a flooding of lights and choppers in the air. Tommy cursed, "Shit! Fuckin' Army!"
"Isn't that good?" Sarah asked from your embrace.
"It's good for them, but that's the highway we're tryna get to," Tommy explained, coming to a halt as cars flooded past them.
"All right, keep movin'. Head north," Joel advised quietly, his mind trying to settle.
"Could be a lotta people," Tommy argued lightly.
"Well, we can't go south, we can't go east, we can't go west," Joel pointed out. "Hell else we supposed to go?"
"Tommy, fuckin' drive!" You grit, Katie joining you in on the last word.
"Tommy, c'mon!" Joel followed right after. The tires squealed as Tommy pressed on the gas while turning his wheel, making the truck turn and speed off for a distant suburban town; lights in the distance guiding you. "Yeah," Joel muttered. "Yeah, I know that place. This can work."
"Yeah, all right, fine, cool, but then what?" Katie asked. "Where are we supposed to go then?"
"I don't know. Mexico. Just far, far as we can," Joel answered uneasily. "How much gas?"
"Three-quarter tank," Tommy answered.
"Go through town," Joel advised. "Golf course by the river, straight across, we pick up the highway on the other side of the blockade, then we're out."
"I'm gonna throw up," Katie whispered, head tilted back with her eyes closed.
"If you're feelin' sick, hand me my baby," you snapped, looking at her with fear.
"No, girl, it's anxiety," she snapped back. "I'm not sick."
"How can you be sure?" Sarah wondered.
"Cause it would've hit us the same as it did our family..."
"Who'd it hit?" Tommy wondered, looking back.
"We're all that's left," you sighed, saving your sister from answering. "Daddy turned first, then Mama... Billy after... We got out."
"They bite 'chall?" Tommy asked, glancing back.
"No," you answered, looking at Katie. "You bit?"
"Nope, I beat 'em to the punch," she sighed. "Ah, fuck, my stomach."
"Throw up in my truck, darlin'," Tommy muttered, sucking his teeth.
"Throw up on my baby, Kate, and I'll beat 'cho ass," you snipped, perking a warning brow at her.
"Girl," she sighed, glancing at Sarah - who had sat off you in contemplation. "Sarah?" She whispered in wondered.
"Maybe it's everywhere," she voiced, glancing at the two of you sat on either side of her. "Maybe there's nowhere to go..."
"Well, hey, we'll just have to find somewhere safe," you nodded back at her, but furrowed your brow. "Anyone hear that?"
"Oh, shit - "
"What the fuck!?" Tommy called over Katie, glancing up towards the roof as there came a deafening sound of a plane flying far too low to the ground.
"Cover her ears!" You begged Katie, reaching for Sarah to press your hands over her ears. Your sister held your daughter's ears closed - her still screaming bloody murder - as the plane flew over the truck.
"Fuckin' hell!" She looked back, noting the sky. Sarah whipped around, too, only to spy two more planes in the sky - all flying low and at odd angles.
However, ahead of them, cop cars were speeding around the streets and cutting off any route. "Son of a bitch," Tommy cursed. "Gotta go around. Grab somethin'!"
You held onto the designated 'oh shit!' bar over your head as Sarah leaned over to hold Katie and your baby. Tommy took a sharp right into an alley, between buildings. When you all rightened, it was only to see the people on the street running around, screaming, cars zooming past them all. Tommy took a left, then another right, and joined the bustle of the street.
"All right, keep goin', keep goin'," Joel pointed ahead, but tommy blew past a stop sign. "Shit - TOMMY!"
Another car came to a screeching halt, barely missing T-boning the Tommy's truck. They moved on, only to discover people mauling each other in the street - blocking most of their path. "Oh, my God," Sarah whispered, reaching for you as your arm came around her shoulders again as Tommy came to a stall.
"Tommy, you can't stop here," Joel reminded.
"I can't drive through 'em all!"
"Are you serious?" Joel barked. "Just keep goin'!"
However, ahead came the smashing of glass and a stampede of people - all running wildly and making you assume they were Infected, too. "Ohhhhhhh, shit," Katie whimpered.
"Go, go, go, go, back, back, back, back, back, back," Joel encouraged his brother, who hastily switched gears.
"I'm trying!"
However, when you and Sarah looked back to watch the crowd and stay out of Tommy's range of sight, you saw a distant threat and tuned everything else out. "Joel!" You begged, reaching for his arm as the sight of an airborne plane turning in the sky to head back your way was far too pressing right now.
"Dad!" Sarah echoed.
"Holy shit," Katie sobbed, cradling your baby tightly and without you even noticing, put her seatbelt on.
"Move. MOVE!" Joel told Tommy.
The plane took a nosedive into the ground, exploding, and send a flurry of parts around the surrounding area. One of those areas happened to the building you were driving past, and one of the steel parts ricocheted off it and into the truck.
Everything went black.
"Baby? Baby, can you hear me? Hey, hey, hey, darlin', c'mon, open them pretty eyes for me, c'mon, baby, please."
"Fuck," you wheezed, eyes slowly opening.
"Hey, hey, hey, there you are, hey," Joel whispered, Tommy, Katie, and Sarah already out of the truck. "There you go, c'mon, you all right? You hurt?"
"No," you blinked a few times, wiggling your toes and fingers. "Fuck's sake, what happened?"
"Car accident," he nodded, "c'mon, sugar, gotta get up for me," he looked around. "We ain't safe here, c'mon, baby, that's it."
You nodded and let him pull you from the wreckage, grunting when shattered glass pressed into your skin to create long drips of blood that resembled a child's melted-crayon canvas from elementary art class. When out, Sarah kept weight off her ankle and wobbled in her stance, making you frowned, "All right?"
"Ankle," Sarah sniffled.
"We gotta get off the streets!" Tommy called from the other side of the car.
"KATIE!?"
"I got her!" She called back, and then, you could distinguish her shrill crying. You sighed with relief before Tommy was profanely screaming and Joel turned you and Sarah from the car just as an out-of-control police car came smashing into the truck.
"I got her," you told Joel, taking hold of Sarah in full as he nodded in thanks before turning for the wreckage they couldn't get around.
"Tommy!? Tommy!? Katie!? TOMMY!"
The brothers found a glimpse of each other through the flames, Tommy telling his brother, "Head to the river! We'll find a way! Get them outta here, Joel! Go!"
"Take care of my daughter," he nodded back.
"C'mon," Tommy told Katie, and the two were taking off with Tommy's gun slung over his shoulder.
Joel turned back for you and Sarah, gulping nervously at you, "Darlin', listen, I'm so sorry - "
"Joel, now's not the time," you panted. "We gotta go. Okay? We're good right now, but we gotta stay good. Let's get the fuck outta here, please. We can talk later!"
He nodded back, looking at Sarah, who refused, "We can't leave them! K-Katie has D - "
"They'll be fine," Joel insisted. "Tommy's with 'em, they'll look after each other. Can you run?"
"No," she shook her head, making Joel sigh.
"Can you?"
"I'm good," you nodded, worryingly looking at Sarah. "I can carry her - "
"'S all right, darlin'," he muttered, sweeping Sarah into his arms and making her arms latch around his neck. "You keep your eyes on me," he told his daughter. She nodded. "Okay?"
"Okay," Sarah breathed.
"Okay," Joel nodded. "And you don't look anywhere else." Sarah buried her head in her father's neck, his eyes meeting yours. "And you..." He panted, swallowing nervously. "You stay with me, you stay right with me, all right?"
"All right."
"All right," he agreed, hurrying off down the alley. You were true to your word, keeping up with him easily, but both slowing when the end of the alley only lead to a group of Infected motherfuckers feasting on the flesh of other humans.
You panicked for a moment, looking around you, and nearly missing the sound of the a distant explosion - sounding more like a crack from this distance. However, it was enough of a sound to draw the attention of at least one Infected Fucker - who looked up to stare at you, Joel, and Sarah.
Joel lead you to a building behind you - but the Fucker followed. "Joel, go, go, go," you hissed, easily taking the lead to use your body to burst through doors. Joel followed, understanding that because he was carrying Sarah, you had assumed the role of "guide" and wanted to clear his path - but it also cleared a path to be followed.
It made horrendous sounds as it chased you three, literally hauling it's body around as if it had no real control over it. The feeling inside your chest was chaotic, the tension tangible through the air as you lead Joel through the closed-diner.
The creature still followed.
Finally outside, you didn't have to restrict yourself but couldn't find it in you to leave Joel and Sarah behind. If this was the end, it was only right you fell as a family - and while deeply stupid of you, it was oddly poetic. However, as you heard the beast in pursuit just nipping at your heels, so sounded a reverberating gunshot.
It made you pause, looking back to see a headshot had taken the Infected Fucker out, and yet, no obvious sign of the shooter. Joel comforted Sarah, looking down at you - making you nod, telling him you were okay - before looking around again.
Then, a flashlight blinded you as a Humvee's lights flashed on, a voice demanding, "Don't move!"
"Joel..." You whispered, holding onto his elbow as he readjusted so he was slightly in front of you.
"My daughter's hurt!" Joel called to the military man. "Her ankle!"
"Stop right there!" He barked again.
"Okay," Joel muttered, nerves being shared as you had a bad feeling about this. "Easy now. We're not sick!"
But the solider, instead, radioed in, "I got three civilians by the river, one of 'em injured... Ankle..."
"What about Uncle Tommy and Aunt Katie?" Sarah asked her father.
"We're gonna get you somewhere safe first, with your Mama. Yeah? Then we'll come back for 'em, okay?"
"Okay."
"Okay."
"I'm sorry, repeat?" The solider asked into his comms system - earning your attention again. Joel tried to step forward, but the flashlight was right back up into your face, the man snapping, "Hey! No one told you to move!"
"Joel," you worried. "They have shoot-to-kill orders."
"What?" He whispered.
"In the event of extreme violence, similar to this, they have orders to shoot-to-kill," you told him shakily, watching the man. "I know you wanna trust 'em, but they're not our friend right now. Get ready to run..."
"Darlin' - "
"Joel," you hushed, squeezing his elbow.
The solider answered his commanding officer with three, spaced out, "Yes, sir's," before he was slowly picking up his firearm and the light was again in their eyes.
Joel realized how right his estranged wife was in that moment. "We're not sick," he tried to remind. But the man approached, making Sarah's breathing pick up as she held on tighter to Joel's neck - blindly reaching out for you. "Sir," Joel begged, "we are not sick!"
But just like you had said, the orders were shoot-to-kill, and the rapid gunfire sounded in the knight - only barely masked by Sarah's high-pitched scream. You felt a searing burn in your thigh, all three of you toppling over down the short hill you were heading towards; all three rolling away from one another.
When you came to a halt, you seethed in pain, holding your thigh, but hearing a much worse sound. Sarah hyperventilating. You looked up as the solider leered over Joel, army-crawling towards her just as a gunshot sounded. However, when you weren't struck, you kept going, and reached your stepdaughter.
"Baby?" You whispered.
"Mama," she begged. "Mama, Mama," she repeated, barely able to swallow her saliva - much less her fear. "Hurts," she grunted, soon losing the ability to form words.
Tommy had seen the scene and rushed forward to shoot the solider, leaving Katie at his side with your infant daughter still in arm. "I got'cha, hey, hey, hey, I"m here," you whispered, literally whipping your shirt off to press into her stomach. "JOEL!" You cried, looking over your shoulder to spy him on the ground.
He quickly scrambled to Sarah's other side, taking in the situation, and looking at you with absolute devastation. You cried as you held pressure, but you knew, from the entry wounds, Sarah didn't stand a chance. Her aorta artery had been hit and shredded by a bullet, only giving her moments left in this life.
Watching Joel was possibly harder than watching him walk away from you in the birthing room. He was desperate, trying to save his daughter but only being able to hold her as she grunted and sobbed in pain; bleeding out in her father's arms. Joel begged you to help but you couldn't, unable to form words, so, he turned to his brother and screamed at him - and your sister - to help him.
But in that moment he had looked away, Sarah's life had left them. "Joel," you whimpered, making him look down and realize what happened. He sobbed, drawing her in tightly; rocking helplessly on the ground as he couldn't fathom what had just happened.
However, amongst his mourning, there came a sound you never wanted to hear again. Whipping around, you caught sight of your sister starting to twitch and leapt to your feet; limping in hurried motions to snatch your screaming baby from her tightening grip.
"Katie," you begged in a sob, backing up towards Tommy, "oh, God, no... No, please."
But the bite on her forearm had turned a sickly black-and-blue, alerting she had been bit at some point and never voiced it. Before your very eyes, she turned from your dear, sweet older sister into a blood-thirsty monster. Yellowed and dead eyes, snarling and uncontrollable twitching, limbs that turned up in odd angles as the infection took over completely.
When done, you sister gave a shriek before you pleaded, "Tommy!"
He took aim and fired once, putting Katie out of her misery; sending her corpse crumbling to the ground. You panted, tears in your eyes as you couldn't process this night, but then... The unexpected.
"Oh, God, no," you gasped, wrenching your daughter from your chest as she started wriggling uncontrollably. "No, no, no, no, no, no," you sobbed, dropping to your knees and laying her down. Quickly opening her baby blanket, you noted the adult-sized bite on her whole shin, sobbing harshly. "Delilah! No, not my baby, no, no, oh, fuck, no, c'mon, not you, too. Not you, too, Delilah, please, my angel, oh, fuck, no, God damn it!"
"Darlin'," Tommy stuttered from behind you. He looked up in fear, finding his brother's confused gaze and calling, "J-Joel!"
"Delilah, please, fuck, h-how do I fix this!?" You begged. "No, fuck, God damn it! Why can't I help my daughters!?" You snarled at Tommy, sobbing until your chest hurt. "Why!? Why can't I save them!?"
"Doll," he whispered, his older brother slowly letting go of Sarah to lay her down, shut her eyes, and rest her arms over her stomach before turning for you.
"Not her, too, please," you begged. "That's everyone, please, no, please, th-this can't - please, this can't be happening! How do I help, Delilah, baby, please?" You still begged, looking at her bite. "I-I can - I don't know what to do! Wo-Would amputation work? Oh, fuck, no, no, it's - no, please!"
Joel stumbled to his feet, nearing you, but pausing as he could only stare as his infant daughter, whom he had only just seen, twitched and convulsed as the infection proved too great for her little body. It also wasn't lost to his that you had name her after his own mother, long since departed from this world and who would never meet her granddaughter.
"Oh, my God," Joel whispered, slowly nearing you as you sobbed over your daughter; hands hovering all over as you weren't sure where to touch her.
"Please!" You begged nobody, sobbing uselessly as Delilah came to a slow but jarring halt. "Oh, my God," you squeaked, leaning back in shock. "Oh... Oh, my fuckin' God, no... Not our kids, c'mon, no, God, please, fuck - this has to be some fucked-up nightmare. Right?" You looked desperately at Joel. "This... This isn't real, right? This isn't really happening? Please, Joel, you have to fucking tell me this isn't real - this can't be real."
"I'm sorry," Joel wheezed, slowly reaching for you.
"This didn't happen," you shook your head. "O-Our daughters - what the fuck just happened?"
Tommy slowly took the seat on your other side, Joel easily tugging you into his embrace as your sobs wracked your whole being. There were no words to be shared, only the grief of two parents who had just lost everything. Sarah's blood stained both your skin, Delilah laid perfectly still in her baby blanket right in front of you, and Tommy, who felt his gun weighed more than himself after failing to protect those he loved most in this world.
Joel, who lost his daughters but kept his brother.
And you... Who lost your husband a year ago and both your daughters, your mother, father, little brother, and older sister all in a single night. You, who would carry this night of great loss with you, for life. You, who felt confused on how "moving forward" was ever possible. You, who would eventually lose feeling in your head and heart that would result in years of violent turmoil.
You, who would eventually find a path to redemption, but for tonight, you, who grieved loudly and openly in the bloody arms of your estranged husband.
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weasleydream · 1 year
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once again in your arms
joel miller x f!reader
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A/N: mwahah, hello boys i’m baaack (10 points to whoever knows what movie that quote's from). took an unexpected break coz life, but i’m ready to get back on track. this was requested by a beautiful anon a while back (sorry for the wait angel), but i hope you enjoy! x
Request: hello! so this is kinda angsty: joel and the reader are married and have a baby (plus sarah, obviously). the day of the outbreak, reader and baby were in town and she couldnt call joel (or viceversa) cause the phone lines were down. they were separated for a few years until they arrives at the quarantine zone he's in, and he recognizes them in the crowd.
Word count: 4.5k-ish
Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, birth and having a baby, domestic fluff, angst, pre and post outbreak, some spoilery things if you haven’t seen the show yet, heartbreak, loss of a child, apocalypse things, i sweat at the idea of caring for a baby during the end of the world, soft reunions, fluff, cameos of my fave oc’s made in a different series
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It’s a fact you had learnt in the very early days of your relationship... the Miller men knew how to care for a lady. Whether it was Tommy sliding in to open the door for you before you could reach for the handle, or Joel draping you in blankets and taking on the responsibility of keeping your hot water bottle warm to fend off cramps for the evening, not a moment went by when you didn’t feel the constant reassurance of their care.
Especially now, fresh from the hospital and tender from your days of excruciating pain and an extensively long labour, Tommy quickly slaps the pillows into something plusher, hands gentle as they guide you down until you’re reclining into the armchair.
Joel keeps an eye on you from across the room, the brief wash of concern slipping away with the easy smile that grows along his lips when your eyes meet.
He rocks the wrapped bundle in his arms softly, a big hand dwarfing the small head that peaks from the blankets. His fingers brush through the light smattering of hair peeking out from the cotton burrito, his index running along the tiny peak of a nose and you feel your heart swell in your chest.
“Dad,” Sarah whines with an eager smile, shifting restlessly on the couch, “come on, I’ve been waiting all weekend.”
“Oh my god,” Joel drawls sarcastically, “all weekend? Baby girl, how are you survivin’ right now?”
“Shut up,” her grin widens, “give me my baby brother before I explode.”
“Well, we don’t want that mess all in the livin’ room,” Joel quips, stepping over your weekend bags tossed on the floor and closer to the couch, “ain’t treadin’ your brain all into the rug—thing was damn expensive.”
Sarah shrugs, readjusting her body to sit straighter and holding her arms out expectantly, “Least I have a brain.”
Tommy snorts in amusement, grinning at his brother's expense, “That’s true.”
“Are you still here?” Joel side eyes him, barely fighting the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
They bicker, throwing their little snippy sibling comments back and forth before Sarah clears her throat, her eyebrows rising in impatience.
“Alright, alright. Here, watch his head,” Joel instructs gently, a smile playing along his lips, “that’s it, baby, you got him.”
It’s a beautiful picture, Sarah carefully bringing the baby closer and tucking him carefully into her arms, and the sentiment is shared with Tommy as the flash and click of a camera goes off. He removes the polaroid sliding from the slot and sits it on the coffee table to develop before instructing Joel to slide in next to her and smile.
Both Joel and Sarah are oblivious to his instruction, lost in the bubble that has overcome them. You find peace watching them, warmth spreading along your limbs by the sweet tenderness of it all. The love is clear between the three of them cuddled on the couch, and it’s almost too much for your heart to bear.
Sarah beams down at her baby brother, cooing soft words and stroking a gentle finger down Matthew’s cheek. Joel throws an arm to rest on the top of the couch behind Sarah, turning into her and answering her questions quietly.
8 pounds, 3 ounces. Smaller than you. No, he didn’t cry at all—gave me and the docs a damn heart attack. She sure did a great job. 
Your Joel was never a man to wear his heart on his sleeve, but the emotion shines from his eyes, bleeds through the lines in his face and it’s enough to bring tears building along your lash line.
“You okay over there?”
His familiar drawl brings your attention to him, and you smile at him, tired and fully at peace. It’s bliss, despite the ache of birth still hanging in your limbs. M
“I’m fine,” you respond quietly, lids heavy with exhaustion, “I’m just so happy.”
He fucking beams. His grin creases his cheeks and he nods softly.
“Me too, honey,” he mutters, turning his attention back to his children and playing with a strand of Sarah’s hair as he gazes down at Matthew, “me too.”
Four months later.
Chaos.
Matthew wails against your chest, the deafening sounds of screams, bullets, sirens and explosions setting him off into hysterics. Your arms tighten around him, keeping his face tucked closely into your throat so your scent could hopefully provide him some reassurance.
You crouch beside cars, you run until your legs ache. You take cover in stores, the soles of your shoes crunching over broken glass of the shattered windows. Every phone you try gives nothing but a dull tone. Radios are filled with static and emergency broadcasts play on the view screens you run past in your effort to escape whatever the hell is happening.
Worry stirs along the edges of your mind. Is Joel okay? Sarah? Tommy? You can’t call him, you can only run and hope nothing takes you down in your effort to get back to your car. You pass people crouched over others, blood smearing along their lips as they tear unforgivingly into the flesh of another.
It’s a nightmare, and it’s everywhere you look.
Almost there.
You see the sign of the parking lot and it only makes you run that much faster, even though your legs threaten to give out at any minute. You pass an elderly man crouching beside a woman, blood flowing from the open gash on her throat, and the ache clutching your heart only increases when his pleas reach your ears over the mayhem.
“Gloria,” he mutters in an aged rasp, “up you get, love. You’re alright, come on now—”
You can’t help it.
Somewhere in your mind you can feel Joel screaming at you to keep running, to get yourself to safety and not give a damn about anyone other than Matthew, but the image of this man cradling his wife’s wrinkled, bloodied hand is enough to get you advancing to him before anyone could hurt him. 
“Sir—”
He ignores you, too busy with brushing the woman’s blood soaked white hair from her face.
“Sir, we have to move—”
You wrap your fingers around his shoulder and shake firmly. His head gives a shake of denial as he clutches his wife’s hand tighter.
“No… no, she’ll need help—she has a bad ankle.”
Shifting Matthew unsteadily onto your hip, your fingers wrap under his arm and tug him onto his feet. He fights you, bats your hold away with an infuriated expression at your rough handling of him.
“I’m so sorry, but she’s gone—we have to run. I—I have a car, please… just come with me, please!”
“I won’t leave her—”
“Please… they’re coming! I—would she want this for you? To die like this?”
He blinks, his frown softening ever so slightly before screams pierce the air, much closer than you anticipated, and terror claws up your throat until you feel you’ll vomit.
You hold out a hand, relieved when his own rough, calloused hand finally takes it, and then you’re running, albeit slower than before, but you make it to your car with no issues.
You dive into the driver's seat, passing Matthew over to the stranger when he makes an impatient gesture to hold him and then you’re tearing out of the lot, running down the few rabid looking beings that advance on you with bloodied expressions of hunger.
You don’t think you take a proper breath until you’re past a military barricade that had seemingly been destroyed in the attack, flying down the highway and around other panicked drivers with sweat slicking your skin. 
Taking a deep breath to slow the brutal pounding of your heart, you look at Matthew, now calmed and looking up at the stranger with an obvious shine of curiosity. The old man is clearly softened by the baby, letting his small hand wrap around his finger and wiggling it playfully in his hold.
“That’s Matthew,” you mutter shakily, meeting the eyes of the elderly man before gazing back out the windscreen. You take another breath before giving your own name, tears biting at your eyes when you utter the name Miller.
Do you still have a husband? A step daughter? A brother in law? The unknown scares you, outright fucking terrifies you. 
The man nods in your peripheral vision.
“Harold,” he finally says, voice rough and tired.
There are people everywhere, screaming, crying.
People run, shout, wail over family and friends.
Tears have long dried on his face, his head thumping relentlessly with the remnants of his heartbreak. Tommy’s grip is firm on him, tugging him out of the way of people tearing down in their direction, pulling him to where a makeshift table is thrust under a tent as a reception of sorts.
He doesn’t care about the people already there asking about their family and friends. He shoves them out of the way, hands shaking as they clutch the edge of the weak table.
“I’m lookin’ for a woman… she’d be with a baby boy, not even four months old—”
His voice shakes. He can’t get it to stop. He struggles to get out the detailed descriptions of you both down to the clothes you were wearing, speaking your names through trembling lips. His stomach jolts at the thought of you somewhere, lying helplessly on the floor with your flesh getting torn into while Matthew screams in his car seat.
He’s a damn baby. He wouldn’t know what’s happening, wouldn’t know why his mama’s not there with him—
The woman gives a small expression of sympathy over the thin surgical mask covering her mouth, “I’m sorry, sir. We’ve had no babies that young come through, and nothing like that has come in over the radios.”
He retches. 
His body heaves, almost as if it’s rejecting the mere idea that you weren’t somewhere safe waiting for him. He had failed. Failed to keep Sarah safe, failed to keep Matthew safe, you—the vows he had made now meant shit. He hadn’t been there for better or worse. He’d hadn’t done what a father should have and kept his kids free from harm.
Sarah had died, terrified and in agony, in his hold. Her bloodied handprints remain dry and caked on his arms. Matthew had died, not even making it to six months. A baby, still fresh to the world, only just able to hold his own head up. You had died, not knowing where he and Sarah were, if they were even safe.
Tommy hauls him to a close trash can, rubbing a firm hand up and down his back as he chokes on vomit, tears soon streaming down his cheeks when his body eventually has nothing left to give. His heart hammers in his chest, thundering against his ribs and filling his ears until he’s unaware of the noises around him. 
“They’re gone,” he whispers hoarsely, clutching at the rim of the trash can in an effort to keep himself up.
“Now we don’t know that—”
“God damn it, Tommy, you saw what it was like out there!” 
Tommy sighs, his own eyes filling with tears. “We gotta keep hope, Joel—”
“Hope?” Joel spits at his brother, “What good is hope against that shit out there? She would’ve been alone, you know as well as I Matthew only would’ve slowed her down. They were in the city. We couldn’t even keep safe out here! They’re—they’re gone. My wife… my baby boy, my baby girl—”
The sobs tear from his chest, harsh and painful. He mourns for hours, unseeing of the flurried movement still happening around him, his sorrow mixing with the flood of agony filling the makeshift safe zone with every new unhurt civilian looking for someone familiar.
Tommy doesn’t take his arms away from around his brother until dawn starts to pierce the horizon, 
Two years later.
He still fills your thoughts daily.
Your life, your old life, would flash behind your eyelids at night when sleep would finally claim you. You’d feel his touch, kiss his lips, touch his face. It all felt so normal. The dreams would be nothing but memories, and somehow, it made them feel more like nightmares.
Mornings making breakfast with Sarah, dancing to the music falling from the radio. Family game nights, watching Tommy and Joel get more and more competitive with each game. Grocery shopping with Joel, simply wandering down the aisles and relishing in his comforting touch warming your lower back. 
You could never quite make peace with the possibility that he was dead. It didn’t sit right. The idea that your Joel had been lost to the disaster that had claimed the world just seemed impossible. Your heart rejected the notion, refused to accept that its counterpart wasn’t somewhere out there, living, breathing, surviving,
Sarah and Tommy, too.
They had to be somewhere, holed up safely and keeping well. They had to.
“They’ve established a quarantine zone close by,” you say quietly, mindful of Matthew sleeping on your lap, “it’ll be a lot safer there than out here. I think we should give it a go… find a more secure place to live. I’ve heard they have work available, good flow of food and medicine…”
Harry snorts quietly, shifting under his old, thick jacket, “That doesn’t mean they’re happy giving it out. There’ll be a catch somewhere.”
You eye the long carved frown in his features and lean forward to fix the blanket covering his tired legs, “Don’t you think we should try at least?”
“Maybe they’ll put a bullet in me,” Harry grumbles moodily, “I’m old—I can’t work like they’ll want me to. Although, it’ll beat living through this bloody nightmare any longer.”
“Harold,” you chide softly, heart aching at the thought of losing the grumpy old man after spending so long by his side.
He’d quickly become a grandfather figure of sorts, to both you and Matthew. The little boy was obsessed with him, and had been since the day you had come together, and though he tried to hide it behind his usual icy facade, Harry was smitten, weak from the boy learning to call him pa.
“He’ll be safer in there,” Harry finally grumbles, gazing at the sleeping toddler. “This is no life for him out here. It’s getting worse and worse. Stability will do him good.”
“And you’ll come with us?”
He sighs sharply, crossing his arms over his chest. “Fine—I’ll come. But if they don’t kill me, I’ll be bloody upset with you.”
You snort in amusement, a grin curling your lips. “Fair enough. Now drink your soup.”
“I’m not hungry. You have it.”
He shoves it away, pushing it in your direction, as he usually does. It’s a daily fight—him refusing food in favour of giving you and Matthew more, ensuring you both never went hungry despite his own hunger and rapid weight loss due to the sudden lack of food.
You give him a playful frown and hold the small cup out to him.
“Don’t make me force feed you, old man, drink it.”
The walls of the Quarantine Zone are a lot more daunting than you had originally thought they would be. They tower high, and the barely there movement of soldiers along the front and top of it have nerves start to build in the pit of your stomach.
Maybe this isn’t a good idea. Surely they wouldn’t shoot without asking questions? Would they even give you a chance? What happens to you if the zone is full? Would they let you go on your merry little way?
God, you feel sick. 
The ice creeping along your skin doubles, and you tighten your grip on the baby carrier strapped to your chest. Matthew hums quietly against your back, his little fingers tracing random patterns along your shirt as he bounces with your each step. Harry walks somewhat steadily beside you, his cheeks reddening with the more distance you cover.
He gives you a reassuring nod when you look to him for guidance, and you continue forward, swallowing the lump building in your throat when you become aware of them yelling about your presence.
Their guns are raised when you eventually make it closer, and it’s automatic to throw your hands up in surrender.
“We’re not infected!” you shout, hoping they’d listen. 
A soldier steps forward. “On the ground, now!”
“Shit. Okay! Please, I—we’re not infected—”
“Get. On. The. Ground!”
“I have a kid! I have a—please, we’re not—”
“Get the kid out.”
Panic flares to life in your chest. You fight the tremble in your fingers as they raise to the clip across your chest, winding a supportive hand around to your back to keep Matthew from falling out of the carrier as it loosens from your torso.
After a bit of shifting, Matthew stands on shaky legs, his eyes darting between you and the few soldiers with their weapons raised.
“It’s okay, baby,” you soothe softly, “we gotta do what the man says, okay? Can you do that for mama?”
You continue to lower until your front hits the rubble covered ground, and you motion for Matthew to do the same, heart breaking as he cowers in fear and falls to his knees before copying your posture and hiding his face against the road.
More voices fill your ears, the obvious presence of more soldiers swarming from the gate causing your pulse to skyrocket as Harry lowers on the other side of the small toddler.
“Check ‘em.”
“Everything’s fine,” you murmur, keeping your gaze on Matthew and smiling when he peeks at you from between his fingers, “we’re okay. Keep your eyes on me, baby. Everything’s gonna be okay.”
It stings.
You automatically flinch away from the device someone holds at your neck, freezing when more weapons are raised in your direction. The device gives a small beep and the soldier gives a loud clear, before moving for Matthew.
He cries out at the pain, his chest heaving with his growing sobs. The guns move in his direction and you’re flying towards him before you can even think, yelping when arms pull you away from your baby before you can console him. His screams worsen. 
“Please,” you beg, “he’s just a baby—!”
The soldiers remain emotionless.
Another beep, another clear.
The fingers digging into your arms loosen and then you’re free, hurriedly crawling on all fours until Matthew’s in your arms, his tear stricken face pressing into your throat. You soothe him softly, murmuring how well he did and that he’s safe with you while the soldiers move their attention to Harry.
When the device gives a final clear, another soldier steps forward, a small smile stretching his lips.
“Sorry about that,” he says, stepping forward until he’s only a step away, “but we can’t be too careful.”
It’s surreal being around people again.
For the longest time, it’s just been you, Matthew and Harry. The people left after the event had turned cruel, desperate for any remaining resources and resulting to violence left, right and centre. It’d been sheer luck that you three had escaped some of the nastier characters you’d come across during your treks. Sure, you’d lost a few supplies every now and then, but you were thankful you all were still here at least.
The man leads you into an office of sorts, with rusted old chairs to sit on while he goes about ‘registering’ you. You’re surprised at the process of it all, confused when he says you’re in luck because after this morning, there are new rooms available. What does that mean? Had something happened to the occupants?
Your stomach turns, but you dare not dwell on it.
Safety for Matthew, that’s all that matters. That’s why you’re here.
It feels like hours before you’re stepping into the sun again, lead out onto a relatively normal looking street with written directions to your new accommodation. The door bangs loudly behind you, fully closing you from the horrors of the outside world, and you try not to focus on the looks of curiosity, borderline hostility, as you start to walk further into the QZ, the height of the wall casting a large shadow over your path.
There’s a main square of sorts, filled with small stations of people selling various items. Your stomach grumbles at the sight of shitty looking food, desperate to eat something other than the random old bits and pieces you’d find through your looting, but you’d have to begin work to even afford a single half burnt bread roll. The two ration cards you had received at your ‘registration’ wouldn’t make a dent in what you’d need to afford any of it.
You pass the sellers, sharing a sullen look with Harry as he too realises he wouldn’t have enough for any of it.
There’s crowds, and you try to keep to yourself as you move, but something catches your eye, as if your sight had been automatically pulled to that direction and you’re oblivious to the people bumping into your frame.
For a moment, you’re sure you’re dreaming.
Did they end up shooting you at the gate? This couldn’t be real, couldn’t be unfolding right before your very eyes. You feel alive. You feel your pulse, your breath. You feel Matthew shift in the carrier, you hear Harry making comments about the people and the surrounding buildings.
You can’t look away.
You’re pulled in his direction, certain with every bone in your body that it’s him. It’s him.
The man turns, and his eyes are meeting yours through the crowds before you can even brace for it, and you see the moment it hits him.
He freezes, his eyes unblinking as if they don’t want to risk losing the hallucination his mind had conjured. He steps forward, and again, and again, slow in his movements, cautious.
“Joel?” You breathe, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hear you over the bustle of your surroundings and the distance between you, but he must see your lips mould his name because then he’s running, ducking through the people and heading straight your way.
You start to jog, careful not to disturb the carrier holding Matthew too much, and then he’s there. He’s there and he’s real and he’s saying your name so sweetly, a broken rasp of disbelief and a tremble taking over his hands as they raise to cup your cheeks.
You sob at his touch. 
The tears flow from your eyes and you grasp at whatever you can on him, your fingers tightening around the jacket hanging from his frame as you attempt to pour two years of loss into your embrace. He cradles the back of your head, keeps your face pressed tightly against the dirtied skin of his throat as he mutters brokenly about how he thought you were dead and that he’d missed you so damn much.
“Oh baby boy,” he rumbles, noticing the baby carrier and the toddler within it with tears filling his lash line, “look at you.”
You hurriedly unclip the harness and sweep Matthew out of it, bringing him into the middle of your embrace. Joel runs a hand along Matthew’s cheek before sweeping down and kissing him on the forehead, his tears dropping over the toddler’s cheeks in obvious relief and utter joy. 
“How—”
You shake your head, nuzzling into the rough hand holding your cheek. “Later. We’ll talk later about everything, I just—god, I’ve missed you so fucking much, Joel.”
His head lowers until his forehead is pressed against yours, and his eyes flutter closed. You feel it in the simple gesture, how much he had missed you, mourned for you. He gives a small nod, followed by a quiet okay, before another presence suddenly makes themselves known.
Your body jolts with the weight hitting your side, and you jump in fright before your eyes come across a slightly skinny looking Australian Shepherd desperate for attention.
His tongue lolls from his mouth as he attempts to lap at your cheek, and you chuckle through your stream of steady flowing tears at the cheerful dog.
“Chip,” Joel grunts in slight annoyance, shoving the fluffy beast away from where he tries to jump and sniff at Matthew’s cheeks, “down—down, boy!”
“You have a dog?” You ask in curiosity, reaching out to pet the animal. Your smile widens when he eagerly nuzzles into your touch with an excited whine.
“He was wanderin’ the QZ when I came in,” Joel replies, one of his hands leaving your waist to deliver a rough rub to the dogs head, “followed me home one night and hasn’t stopped botherin’ me since. Tommy said he’d be good for me.”
“Tommy’s here? And Sarah?” You perk immediately in excitement, your eyes flying past his shoulder to look for his brother and the other part of your heart that’s been missing for years. “I’m so glad they’re alright, where are they?”
You don’t notice how considerably quiet he’s gone until you look at him. He’s defeated, guarded, his dark eyes drawn to the floor. He can’t look at you. Why can’t he look at you? What’s happened?
“Joel?”
“Sarah… she—she—”
He struggles to finish the sentence, the words stick uncomfortably on his tongue. His features twist in clear anguish and you feel the world around you shatter. Sarah, she… she’s gone? When? How?
Your heart sinks, weak and broken by the unexpected news. Your mind struggles to wrap itself around the notion that you’d never see her again, that the last time you saw her was truly the last. 
Regret begins to build in the pit of your stomach. That last day… you should’ve hugged her tighter, kissed her forehead, told her how much she meant to you and how lucky you were to be in her life—
The tears begin again.
“Oh Joel, I-I’m so sorry,”
You both share the heartache, wrapped in each other's arms and breathing in the other. His tight hold doesn’t loosen for a second, and you attempt to put every ounce of energy in your tired body into returning it.
The world stands still, just like it did that cursed day.
How can you be so elated that he’s here, and yet be filled with so much pain at the same time? How long has he been lost, no doubt blaming himself for his baby girl not making it to where he is now? You mourn her, mourn him for being lost, stuck on a path of despair and believing he had lost everything for so long.
What had become of him? What had the pain done to him? Surely it would’ve been pure torture for the man who practically breathed family. 
Harry can wait. Introductions can wait. Food, drink, sleep—you care for none of it. Not now. All that matters is that Joel is here, truly here in the flesh, wrapped in your arms and holding the child he hasn’t seen for two years. All that matters is that you had found one another in the violent hellscape the world had become.
Peace, but that tranquillity will forever be tainted by loss, a void hanging in the midst of relief, never to be filled again.
-
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