#we get driven to the nearest swimming pool and taught how to swim

[bestwishes86]

Wrote a little more of Ch1 "The Last Summer" from "Lose My Way"

I like how its flowing and getting to flesh out the characters as I write it. Here's a look at MB and Luke's mom, Violet Finali. Why she doesn't have the last name "Cunningham"? You'll see later

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""MB you're gonna melt if you just stand there! C'Mere already dude!" Luke shouted as he wiped at his face and looked to the shore.  He was far enough away from MB that he could stair without his friend noticing. MB shook his head at his friend's nonsense and got off his bike. He took the time to take off his shoes and socks and pulled his own red t shirt over his head and placed it in the backpack. Walking along the beach toward the sea, he grabbed each of Luke's large leather flip flops and his shirt.  He placed all the things together with his bag on top.  

Looking out at the ocean he didn't see Luke and he felt a stab or anxiety before his friend appeared a ways off swimming.  MB ran for the water and dived in.  It was warm and cold at the same time, he swam out toward Luke. His long arms and legs pumping through the water.  None of his friends or family knew it had been Luke's mom, Violet who had taught him how to swim.  He had been five years old.  Small for his age, the same height as Luke when she had driven them to the public pool.  

Luke had been so loud, practically bouncing with excitement. But he had been silent out of fear of what happened when they got to the pool.  Violet Finali, with her long brown curls and gun metal gray eyes had been full of energy.  It was the boys birthdays. His parents were out of the country on a business trip, so she had set out to make their birthdays one for the history books.  He hadn't known it but she had been on the phone for weeks calling all the mothers of their classmates.  Getting their friends and bullies to the pool.  But all he had been worried about was his inability to swim.  

They had gotten out and he had stayed in his seat, his eyes burning and his heart beating so fast.  Luke had looked scared and climbed back in the car and held him, which made it better but worse cause he was keeping Luke from having fun.  Violet had lowered her bright red sun glasses at him and leaned into the open back seat of the jeep.

"Whats wrong BabyBoy2," she asked with that southern charm no Northerner had. 

"I can't swim ma'am," he had whispered and the cursing she had done had scared him more than the water.  She had placed her hands on her cut off jean shorts and let loose a few more words while Luke covered MB's ears with his hands and glared at his mom as much as a 5 year old could.

"That's four dollars in the swear jar Momma," Luke had said and Violet had given him a look that made Luke remove his hands from MB's ears and cover his own mouth.

"You're right BabyBoy1, MamaBear is a little PO'ed at a certain Mama who told me her boy would love a pool party. Before jetsetting off to the damn Hamptons," Violet conceded.  That had done it, MB wept large tears and Violet Finali knew what she had to do.  She looked around for the nearest teenage girl her size.  Seeing Jeanie Meeks she waved her down. Holding out five hundred dollar bills, Jeanie could barely believe it and sold her swimsuit to Violet. 

"BabyBoys we are going to teach MB to swim like a dolphin!" She declared and kissed both his cheeks and tickled him until he was laughing. That had been one of the moments he knew who his family was. 

#horror #novel writing #gay fic #gay romance #gay author #werewolf #werewolves #horror fiction #biracial gay couple fic #wolf creek writing

[glassrunner]

So this is how it ends, Ellie thinks. After all we’ve been through. Everything he’s done. This is it.

It’s getting a little harder to hold him up, to keep his arm over her shoulders with every passing second, and the steady drip, drip, drip that softly patters under them is driving her insane. 

She wants to scream. She wants to cry. She wants to break things and destroy mountains and oh, she’s so full of rage she could tear the entire universe apart.

Ellie does none of those things. She takes a deep breath and hoists Joel up, wincing as he shudders and groans from the agony ripping him up. It’s hard not to cry, but Joel taught her not to, he taught her what it is to be strong and to endure and to survive and fuck no she’s not going to cry in front of him, not now, not when he needs her strength the most. 

All she has to do is get him through the gate, to Tommy’s house in the dam, and they’re so close to safety she can practically taste it. The windows glint in the dim sunlight, faint laughter echoes over the ramparts. She can do this. She grits her teeth and pushes forward, out of the trees and into the clearing.

“Please, Joel, I’m doing all I can but you have to help me,” she mutters to him, her shoulders on fire. 

Just a little further. Just a little further.

“I’m trying, kiddo,” he mumbles, and as he coughs an explosion of blood dots his lips. Ellie blinks in revulsion and twists away, trying not to gag from the fear climbing up her throat. Her vision blurs into a mess of silver and sky blue and muddy brown. It’s too real, so real she wants to pass out.

Blindly she stumbles along the path she’s tread over and over for the past five years. Joel’s quickly becoming a dead weight and her limbs are locking up. Dimly, she hears a confused “Ellie?” called from somewhere above her, and her head snaps up. “Help!” she screams, hating the raw panic in her voice. “We need help here, please fucking help us–”

Tommy’s footsteps are loud as he sprints down the stairs from the watchtower, a breathless “Holy shit” escaping him as he sees the blood covering Joel’s chest. “Get him inside!” he bellows to the crowd frozen behind him, and Ellie sees it in his eyes, the pure fear and the guilt and the anger.

There’s no time to think. Keep moving.

Somehow she and Tommy and some other guy – the fuck is his name again? – manage to heave Joel inside atop a table, and Maria runs for the nearest first aid kit as they cut apart Joel’s shirt and inspect the damage.

Ellie spins around and retches violently, but nothing comes up. Throat aching and eyes burning with unshed tears, she turns back to face Joel, clasping his hand tightly as she grits her teeth.

It’s worse than she’d thought as she dragged him back to the town. The grenade blast hadn’t missed by much, and there’s loads of shrapnel buried in his chest and abdomen on the left side. Some are even buried so deeply she can just barely see the tips of the shards poking out of his skin, and rivulets of blood stream from the punctures. Chunks of flesh are missing too, blasted away by the impact. Her skin crawls with complete revulsion.

“Joel,” she whispers. “Oh God, Joel…”

He grimaces as he registers the shock and despair written all over her face. “Ellie… it’ll be all right.”

“How?” she says, struggling not to scream.

He doesn’t answer, just squeezes her hand.

Maria, breathless, pushes Tommy aside as she takes a look at the wounds. Ellie notes that her hands are shaking, and she wants to be mad at her for being scared too but she just can’t. There’s nobody to blame here, except fate and maybe the universe at large. And God. Fuck you, God.

Trembling, Maria tries to grasp one of the shards and remove it, but a slight tug leaves Joel white-faced with pain, though he doesn’t make a sound. Ellie can tell that removing it would be a huge mistake. Tip of the iceberg and all that. He’s lost enough blood as is, there’s enough pooling on the table that they’ll have to throw it out, they can’t just wash it…

Why am I thinking about this? What the fuck?

Eventually, amid the heavy silence, Maria sets her hands on the table firmly, steadying herself. “Ellie… there’s nothing we can do. He’s lost too much blood.”

Something inside her breaks and she yells, “The fuck does that mean?! Bullshit, you can’t save him!”

Maria bites her lip, her normally feisty attitude subdued. “Look…”

She shakes her head wildly, trying not to cry or sniffle or look weak. “No, no. This is… No.” Her hands are numbing and her heart is pounding so hard she might just explode.

Joel squeezes her hand, and it gets her attention. “Ellie… she’s right. Done is done.”

“Joel, please, we can still save you,” she pleads. Losing him is not an option.

He keeps talking like she hasn’t even said anything. “There’s so much to tell you… Least you got to hear me sing.” They both smile bitterly and she kneels close to him. “Remember all that about makin’ every shot count, yeah? And how to clean your guns, load ‘em properly… And one more thing…”

Ellie half-expects him to talk about Sarah, but he doesn’t, and in some fucked-up way she’s grateful for it. They’re both his daughters, no matter in what way.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and exhales heavily like he’s been holding in that apology for years. And in a way, he has. They’re both shitty at apologizing genuinely, but she understands him. She always has. She doesn’t expect to hear more, but he says, “You had every right to the truth. And I took that from you. And I’m not askin’ for your forgiveness, or anythin’ like that, but I just want you to know I did it to protect you. Because… those Fireflies didn’t deserve you. Never did. You’re too good for this world, Ellie. You deserve better than bein’ a cure.”

Ellie stares into his eyes, so tired and worn and resigned, but somehow full of a love she had only learned to recognize after a year spent with him. She looks at him and sees the past six years, full of dead friends and murdered enemies and Clicker screeches, full of nights spent exchanging watch duty, cold winters and awful memories. And she sees that of those six years, not a day was spent without his presence by her side. He was always there. Watching her. Protecting her.

And now, she’s about to lose him.

“I forgive you,” she cries, and breaks down into heaving sobs in front of Tommy, in front of Maria, in front of everyone. Fuck dignity and fuck strength and fuck grace, she’s losing the one person who has ever mattered to her so much, she can’t do this bullshit life thing without him. She just can’t. “I’m sorry I wasted so much time being angry at you, I’m sorry, I forgive you for lying, I don’t care anymore, I don’t care that you lied–”

Joel cradles her cheek gently in his rough hand (these hands have killed and shot and beaten and saved her, over and over again, from hunters, from David, from herself too). “Ellie,” he whispers. “Promise me one thing.”

Anything. I’d do anything if I could make you stay. “What?” she chokes out.

His lined face contorts as he stifles a gasp of pain. “Promise – promise me you’ll live. Not just survive. Not just be driven by anger and guilt, whatever angst has kept you goin’ these past few years. Promise me you’ll find something that makes you better, something that heals you. Promise me you’ll fight for it.”

“That’s more than one thing, Joel,” she quips, despite her heart dissolving inside of her hollow chest. She just needs to hear that gruff laugh. Just one last time.

He chuckles and smiles faintly. “Kiddo… thank you.”

Ellie’s hands fist in the thick plaid flannel of his jacket, and her lip trembles as tears dot his shirt. “What –  what for?”

“You were that one thing,” Joel murmurs, grasping her right hand tightly as she hunches over, unable to breathe from the pain destroying her from the inside out. “Maybe you didn’t save the whole world, like you wanted. But you saved me.”

There’s nothing but silence as she crumbles into a million little pieces. She’s lost without him. She’s back to after Riley, after the university, after David. She’s a grown woman breaking into girl-sized chunks.

“I’m not… I’m not letting you go,” she sobs, after a minute. “Joel – Dad – please…”

“Baby… swear to me. Swear to me that you’ll find something to fight for.” His eyes are dazed, unfocused, his voice is a low rumble, and his grip is slowly loosening no matter how much her bloody fingers fumble to hold on to him.

She doesn’t know if she can. Not without him. Who will teach her to swim? Who will teach her how to play another song, who will help her figure out those damn chords, who else will she go to after the nightmares come again –

“Ellie,” he says quietly.

She doesn’t know. But she has to try.

“… I swear.”

#shit lauren writes #joel miller #ellie williams #the last of us #the last of us writing #the last of us fanfiction #tloufic #ellie #tlou2 #I MADE MYSELF CRY WRITING THIS #YOU MOTHERFUCKERS HAVE TO SUFFER TOO #i cannot lose joel i just can't if he dies i'm going down with him #but like at the same time i had to explore this dark awful part of this potential storyline #okay though i've written it and therefore it won't happen :-) nope you've been bamboozled neil you can't do this you CAN'T OKAY