Americas Ass

So far (that I've seen), Hudson's had the most scandals. It is eye-brow raising since he's the only POC cast member thus far with this many, but once again, we don't actually know his or everyone else's backgrounds/what they did prior to fame.

From what I gather, he's not the only one people over on twitter are trying to find dirt on, he's simply the one they're finding the most problematic shit about.

He's had the Letterbox reviews scandal which he himself said some were real and some fabricated.

He's had the racist instagram account which allegedly he was in the profile picture and it was followed by people he knows irl (there's been no comment from him or his pr team on it).

Now, he's had a picture resurface of himself with a swastika drawn on his face which his pr team has swiftly tried to address by saying he was unaware it'd been drawn on him. Alongside that, he's apparently worn grills to events, and he attended the Bezos (aka Trump) backed Met Gala.

I've seen fans of him react with antisemitism, claims of it actually being the Buddhist symbol, crying that it must've been internalized racism to fit in with the white kids, etc etc.

We do not know the real reason because we do not know him. Whatever it was, people have a right to feel hurt seeing someone they liked and/or looked up to doing these things. They have a right to feel outraged.

Antisemitism and racism are very real issues people deal with on a day to day. Even if he was young, trying to fit in, or ignorant/uneducated, it doesn't matter. Because people his age were on the other side of that bullshit having to deal with it.

People with these racist/antisemitic 'phases' get to be babied and patted on the back for getting better while the people who've dealt with it have to be the bigger person?

Maybe he's changed. Maybe he's never held those beliefs. At the end of the day, it's on him as a public figure with a big following to speak up. No, it won't stop any hate or criticism, but it's the simplest thing to denounce antisemitism and racism.

And, listen, I appreciate his allyship to the queer community, but as of right now and from what I've seen, his allyship doesn't even count as activism. It's the barest of minimums.

We can be thankful for an ally, but we don't need to put someone on a pedestal for a job they were paid to do and for saying they love the community.

His room, on the other hand, looked like it'd belonged to a grandparent. There was old vinyl furniture sitting around, a rocking chair that looked one seat away from falling apart, chipped floral wallpaper, and a basket of dust-covered yarn tucked beneath a wooden desk. He wanted Joel to have the master bedroom; it made the most sense to him.

(Y/N)'s head turned to peer into the living room and his bottom lip rolled into his mouth. He never thought that being in a house again would bring such heaviness over his chest.

The corners of his eyes prickled, and he took a deep breath, rubbing his fingers over his forehead. His nostrils flared, and he desperately blinked away the tears forming.

Frank would've loved Jackson. He would've loved rushing into town as early as possible to help get the decorations started, or to sit and gossip with the older residents, or to help the teachers with the kids.

Bill would've loathed being around people again, but he would've thrown himself into the construction, helping repair things, offering his ideas.

They would've been happy... the three of them.

"I believe these are your size."

(Y/N) inhaled sharply and rubbed the sleeves of his hoodie over his eyes, taking a few steps into the room and away from Maria. He tried to inhale through his nose quietly without sniffling, squeezing his eyes shut to rid them of the tears before he turned around to face her with a small, polite smile.

Maria stepped into the doorway, a pile of clothes in her hands. She stared at him for a moment in silence, her eyes studying his features. Her shoulders rose with her deep breath, and she approached the bed, setting them down and separating the larger clothes from the smaller ones meant for Ellie. 

"My mother passed before the outbreak." She told him, neatly folding the clothes meant for Ellie again, her features blank. "Our relationship was... complicated. I didn't cry at her funeral, or a few days afterward, but a month later, while I was deciding which clothes to donate and which to keep, it hit me like a truck."

(Y/N) allowed himself to sniffle then, gently rubbing his nose with his sleeve as he took a seat on the edge of the bed. He fiddled with his fingers, teardrops clinging to his lashes that spilled when his eyes watered again.

He pressed his trembling lips together and ran his hand over the maroon knitted sweater she'd found for him, his fingertips tracing the woven pattern.

"That kind of grief... it follows you forever."

Maria swiped her tongue over her lips, pinching the fabric of the magenta-white jacket on the neat pile between her fingers and rubbing.

"The grief of losing a child, too." (Y/N)'s eyes darted up to look at her, his exhale coming out shaky. "You think you're doing good, that you've moved on, and then suddenly... it creeps up on you. Swallows you whole."

(Y/N) rubbed his lips together, delicately sighing. "Sometimes... I forget that I've lost two pairs of parents." He let out a trembling, dry chuckle, his head tilting upward to gaze up at the ceiling. "With Mom, it's... numbed, I guess. I'd had time to prepare, to accept her death before it happened. But with them, it..." 

His mind flickered back to their last dinner together, to the reluctant acceptance he'd had to face when he watched them drink from the spiked wine. His tears before falling asleep that night had been both from grief and anger.

They hadn't given him a choice; they hadn't thought to consider what his future would be like without them. Guilt swirled in his chest.

"We lived in a house like this. Tall and imposing, with a good look at the neighborhood and town... It had a basement, too, and the kitchen almost looks the same. So many bedrooms. It was a damn maze... but Mom's room looked like this, and- and I can't help but- but consider what they'd all think about this place. If we'd considered traveling, if-"

"The ifs are going to kill you. Trust me." Maria stated firmly, shuffling the clothes to the side so she could take a seat beside him.

Her hand came to rest over his knee, squeezing lightly. The relaxed, eerily calm energy she carried softened into something warmer.

"Ever since I lost my boy, my Kevin, I've tormented myself with the what-ifs. What if I had done this differently? What if I'd done that differently? I've come to terms with the fact that... it doesn't matter. It happened. I can't go back in time. None of us can."

(Y/N) rubbed his palm over his forehead, nodding weakly. "Yeah... yeah... I just..."

He stared at his lap through his blurry vision, his head faintly throbbing from the crying. He thought he'd moved on, but he supposed he'd been too caught up in all the chaos to really sit with the grief.

"It's hard to look at Jackson without thinking about Lincoln.. about the empty stores and houses. Frank always hoped that- that a group of friendly wanderers would happen upon Lincoln, and we'd be a community. He loved people, and he never got to- to see humanity restored like this."

Maria's hand raised from his knee to his back, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades. "You got to see it, and from the sounds of it, that might've been his greatest wish. Tommy and I have a memorial at home for the people we loved and lost. You could do one here for your loved ones."

(Y/N)'s mouth twitched upward into a sad, weak smile. "That'd be nice." 

Maria nodded, rubbing his back a few more times before she stood up and scooped the clothes back into her arms. "You should shower. All the houses here have hot water, and the heater works if you want to change the temperature. I'm going to give these to Ellie and make sure she's settling in nicely. If you need anything, Tommy and I are across the street."

(Y/N) patted his cheeks dry again. "Thank you, Maria."

Maria walked toward the door and stopped in the doorway again, lingering for a moment before she turned halfway to look at him.

"I know it's none of my business, but the girl, Ellie... is she yours?" She asked, her brows beginning to furrow. "And if she's not, can I ask what she's doing with you?"

"That's a question for Joel to answer," (Y/N) responded, resting his hands over his thighs. He knew how it looked: two random men wandering around a ruined America with a fourteen-year-old girl. Anyone with a heart would ask. "I can tell you that... It's a favor. Her safety is our priority, I assure you."

"Mm," Maria pursed her lips. "Are you aware of Joel's past, (Y/N)? Of what he's done? What he's capable of?"

"Yes." (Y/N)'s head swayed to the side. "And from my understanding, Tommy's done some bad things, too, but you still trust him. You still married him." Maria's eyes fell onto the floor, her lips pressing into a sheepish line. "You know people are capable of change."

"And Joel?" Her eyes flickered up to meet his. "Is he capable of change?"

(Y/N) laced his fingers together, offering a half-shrug. "Maybe. I think so... But what I do know is that he's the type of man who will go to hell and back for someone he cares about. Repeatedly, if he has to. If I didn't think he had a good, honest heart, I wouldn't be here. I trust him. I care about him."

"Love can be blinding." (Y/N)'s mouth parted, and then promptly shut, his eyes averting. "I have eyes, (Y/N). I see plenty."

"It's not love. I'm not an idiot. I know he and I will only ever be friends, and that's okay. I've made peace with it, and because of that, I can see him for who he is: a man who's been through so much that he's shut down because of it. You and I, and everyone in this town, are only one step away from becoming him. Besides, if you can't trust him, trust your husband. Tommy is the only one here who truly knows him by heart."

Maria swallowed, considering his words, before she nodded and reached for the doorknob. Collecting the clothes and towel, (Y/N) headed into the connected bathroom and set the items down on the bathroom counter. He turned the shower on and released everything he held inside in a long, drawn-out sigh, his eyes fluttering.

They still had to find the Fireflies and deliver Ellie to them, but afterward, they could return to Jackson and... live. Happily. They could form friendships, find decent work, immerse themselves in the community. Then, once the cure was created, they could tear down the walls and help other towns form their own communities. 

That sounded like a good plan.

(Y/N) slipped out of his old, dirtied clothes and stepped beneath the spray, a soft grunt escaping his mouth when the warm water hit his skin.

He rubbed the soap on his hands and rinsed his skin, shuddering gently as his cooled skin warmed. He ensured to get soap and water in every crevice of his body, soaping up and rinsing off twice over until he was certain he was squeaky clean. 

It felt heavenly to slip into new, clean clothes that weren't covered in grime and sweat. He took the chance to brush his teeth, too. By the time he left the bathroom, it was as if he'd thrown off twenty pounds of weight. He tossed his old clothes into the laundry basket in the room and walked out of the bedroom, gazing around the house while he made his way upstairs. 

His ears picked up the sound of the shower, and he walked into the bedroom, his eyes studying the bay window. He'd always wanted one, ever since he'd first seen one at a friend's house.

He knocked once on the bathroom door, waiting for Ellie to call out before he said, "Hey, I'm going to explore the town a bit. If you need anything, check in with Maria, okay?"

"Okay!"

Slipping on the coat Maria had left behind, (Y/N) left the house and wandered down the sidewalk back into town. It was interesting, the town.

He'd grown up in the suburbs beside the city, so he'd grown used to quiet neighborhoods and bustling cities where cars were always honking. They'd always take the car into the city, despite the proximity, and walk around after parking. 

But in Jackson, the stores shared walls, expanding down the street in rows of various sizes. Some shops were one-story and quaint, barely bigger than a bedroom, while others were tall and wide, accommodating at least thirty or more people.

They looked right out of one of those festive movies his mother would play from time to time, where the girl from a big city would fall for a farmer. 

It was still surreal to see groups of people casually walking around, bright and happy, not a speck of fear or worry on their faces. Even back in the Baltimore QZ, people walked the streets with a tightness in their shoulders and exhaustion in their eyes.

People feared hunger, and they worked until their arms and legs trembled.

In Jackson, the atmosphere was different. It was lighter, brighter, joyful. He watched a young child, not much older than four, rush toward their mother with gleeful laughter, and felt his chest warm.

He strolled through the decorated streets, taking note of the shops around, of the fact that people bartered for things, until he stopped in front of what he assumed was the doctor's office. 

He swallowed, thinking back to what Joel had mentioned just the night before. If the Fireflies had the ability to create a cure, they likely had the equipment needed to do testing.

His heart clenched, and he stepped into the office, his eyes settling on an older man in a white coat checking a clipboard. 

"Welcome." The man said without looking up, his bushy brows in a tight furrow. His hair was messy, streaked in silver, dark gray, and hints of blonde. "How can I help you?"

"I've... got a question," (Y/N) replied, wrapping his arms around himself.

He brushed the bottom of his boots over the mat to avoid trekking snow in and approached the man, his teeth nipping at his lip. The waiting room looked like the ones pre-outbreak, muted colors and cushioned seats that dug into the meat of your thighs regardless.

The man looked up at him questioningly, eyeing him for a moment as if noticing he couldn't recognize him. "What is it?"

"Uhm, a long time ago, I went with my mother to a doctor's appointment... I don't remember much, but.. I remember it was mentioned that I'd need to be tested, eventually.. for uhm.."

(Y/N) scratched the tip of his brow. Frank had always soothed his anxieties, anxieties that'd spiked after his mother's passing and then dwindled. She'd been all skin and bones, unable to hold anything down.

"Cancer."

The man took in a heavy breath and set the clipboard aside after crossing out a name. He slipped his hands into the pockets of his coat and rocked back on his heels, wrinkles forming above his nose when it crinkled.

"I'm afraid the tools available to us aren't quite advanced enough to do things like biopsies, but... I can tell you that cancer develops from a mutation that can be inherited. The chances for developing certain types of cancer are significantly higher when a close family member has it."

I'm going to die early someday, aren't I? It won't be from protecting someone or from getting bitten. It'll be my own body betraying me.

"Mm, my grandfather.. also had it. Uhm, pancreatic, I think."

His fingers tightened around his biceps, his nod slow, and his heartbeat picking up. The doctor grimaced, and (Y/N)'s throat tightened. That was bad. That was really bad.

"Is it, uhm..."

"Before the outbreak, pancreatic cancer was already hard to find and treat early due to the symptoms being subtle."

Great.

"Now? Most illnesses are nearly impossible to find unless you have access to certain equipment and know specialists who are willing to help. The most we can do when our residents have these illnesses is offer pain medication and try to make life a little easier for them."

(Y/N) stared at him for a moment longer, finding himself surprised to feel... nothing. He supposed he'd accepted it when he noticed Frank's condition worsening, accepted that he'd likely die from his body eating itself inside out.

Ironic, he thought. The world had fallen due to an abnormal, unnatural infection, and he'd die from one his own body created.

"These kinds of things vary from person to person." The doctor added, his voice soft with sympathy. "Some people live longer, others less. You're young, though. You have at least forty or more years before you should seriously start worrying about it. How old was your mother when diagnosed, may I ask?"

"My grandfather was.. was about sixty-something." (Y/N) dragged his tongue slowly over his top lip, his head tipping to look down at his snow-speckled boots. "My mother was my age. Twenty-nine, but she got treatment early. Went into remission a little before I was born, I think. It came back after the outbreak... and she died."

The doctor's grimace tightened. "I can.. attempt some basic tests, if you'd like-"

"I'm alright," (Y/N) said, his breath catching in his chest and making his voice strained. He gave a light shake of his head, breathily chuckling, and took a step back toward the door. "I was just curious. Have a nice day."

(Y/N) wasn't sure how long he'd spent wandering around Jackson, but by the time he returned to the house, it'd grown dark out. He walked through the front door and shut it behind him, brushing the snowflakes that'd fallen on his head and the shoulders of his coat. He shrugged it off his shoulders and draped it over the top of the coach, his fingers brushing over the staircase railing.

The sound of a loud thump and shouting froze him in place. He tilted his head upward to the upper floor, noticing light pouring out of what seemed to be Ellie's room.

Cautiously, (Y/N) headed up the stairs and leaned his shoulder against the door frame, peeking his head into the bedroom. Joel stood inside, his back to him, blocking Ellie from sight.

"What are you so afraid of?!" Ellie asked, and (Y/N)'s brows furrowed.

What was all this about? Just a couple of hours earlier, everything had been perfectly fine.

"I'm not her, you know." The silence was heavy, palpable, and (Y/N) winced, his lips rolling into his mouth. He knew immediately who she was talking about. "Maria told me about Sarah and-"

"Don't." Joel's voice was tight, sharp. "Don't say another word."

(Y/N)'s eyes dropped to Ellie's shadow across the floorboards, watching it grow whilst she took small steps toward Joel. "I-I'm sorry about your daughter, Joel. But I've lost people, too."

In a low voice, Joel said, "You have no idea what loss is."

(Y/N) heard Ellie's quiet, trembling scoff. "Everybody I have cared for has either died or left me. Everybody, fucking except for you!"

Joel's body stumbled backward with Ellie's shove, and (Y/N) straightened up, taking a step into the room and then to the side. Ellie's chest heaved, and her watery eyes darted toward him.

"He's leaving us!"

(Y/N) blinked, and Joel's head whipped around to look at him, his eyes wide. "What? What does that mean?" Leaving? They'd been traveling for months; how could he possibly think about leaving?

Ellie sniffled, furiously wiping her eyes. "I heard him-"

"You were eavesdroppin'." Joel hissed accusingly, as if that were the greater offense.

"-telling Tommy to take us to the Fireflies so he could go somewhere else!" Ellie revealed in a shout, her voice echoing in the otherwise silent house. (Y/N) stood there, breathless, processing what she'd said. What? What? "When were you going to tell us, Joel? When were you going to tell (Y/N)?"

Another batch of silence, minus Ellie's heavy breathing and the muffled, distant call of an owl outside. (Y/N) shut his eyes for a second, taking a few breaths to keep his heart calm and his mind clear from the threat of tears that threatened to rise in him.

He swallowed, finding his throat dry and his stomach empty, and raised his head to look at Ellie first. 

"Get some rest." He told her curtly, curling his fingers on the sleeve of Joel's flannel and tugging on it so he'd stumble out of the bedroom. Ellie frowned at him with a quivering bottom lip, but he reached for the doorknob anyway. "We'll talk in the morning after a good night's sleep, okay? Goodnight." 

The door shutting engulfed the hallway in darkness, and (Y/N) held onto the sleeve of Joel's flannel, unsure of what to say. He caught Joel's hand rising toward his wrist, and he pulled his hand away, turning around to head down the stairs. Joel's heavy footsteps followed him, long strides to keep up as (Y/N) made a beeline for his bedroom.

He unzipped his backpack and tugged out American Gods, spinning around to hurl it at Joel's chest. Joel flinched, staggering backward from surprise, and he caught the book before it could fall to the floor.

He stared at it in perplexity before his features smoothed out with realization, his head lifting with his parted lips. (Y/N) could see the gears turning in his head, the thoughts flashing in his eyes.

"You made a promise to Bill-"

Joel, at the very least, looked guilty. "I know-"

"No, you made a promise to Bill that you would watch over me, you said it yourself! And now, you're just going to up and leave? You can't- You can't do this. You can't. I can't keep gaining and losing family, Joel. It's not fair!"

His voice began to crack, his vision growing watery again. The dust in the room scratched at his throat, and he wiped away the tears with his fingertips. He was so exhausted of growing to love people, only to lose them, of opening his heart and having it scarred in return.

He rubbed his cheeks roughly until they ached, and turned away from Joel when he went to approach, prompting him to stay rooted in place.

"I have no one, Joel. No one. I've been orphaned twice over now. I lost my baby sister before she could even take her first breath. I watched my mother's body kill itself, and I watched Frank's do the same. Did you- Did you know Bill could've stayed? He could've stayed."

The desperation, the heat of betrayal, leaked into his voice when he spoke, and he knew Joel heard it because his face went slack again. (Y/N)  took in a deep breath, his eyes blinking wide so the tears would fall quickly and not blur his vision.

"I saw it on his face that morning when Frank told him what he wanted. He was going to do what Frank wanted, and then it was going to be just us, but he put those pills into that fucking wine and drank it. I didn't know until after he drank it. I didn't fucking know!"

His following gasping, shuddering breath mixed with a whimper.

"Do you know what it's like to have to sit and smile and pretend like you're not dying inside? Because I do it all the time! I don't walk away when things get hard!"

Joel held the book tight in his hands, his thumbs rubbing over the corners of the worn-out pages, his chin tipped downward. "Ellie didn't hear everythin'-"

"That's not the point." (Y/N)'s voice softened into breathlessness, his head shaking. "You're not walking away from two strangers, Joel. We've been through so much together. We- I- I thought that- that we would go to the Fireflies, and then we'd come back here. There's- There's sheep and chickens, and the moon is always there. We can have a good life here."

"We, what we, (Y/N)? There is no 'we' in this." Joel's fingers curled around the spine of the book tight enough that his knuckles whitened. His nostrils flared, and he shook his head. "I can't do this, (Y/N). I can't."

"Why? I thought you cared-"

"I do care! That's the damn problem!"

Joel's voice boomed in the bedroom, and (Y/N) blinked wildly, the tears beginning to dry with his confusion.

"I care too damn much about you two! I-I could've shot Kathleen back in Kansas when she had you and Henry held at gunpoint, but I froze. The sight of you, injured and in trouble, it- it- it filled me with so much panic that I froze. The thought of you and Ellie in danger... It makes my blood run cold."

(Y/N) stared at him, his brows pulling together slowly. "And what's wrong with that, Joel? It's good that you care. We want you to care about us as much as we care about you. You may not be Ellie's father, but you're- you're like an uncle. I'm like an uncle to her. What's the problem?"

"When Sarah died, I wanted to be with her. I tried. I failed."

The air escaped (Y/N)'s lungs at Joel's quiet confession, his shoulders sagging. The anger he felt vanished into nothing. Joel pressed his lips into a line to stop them from quivering, his dark eyes glassy with unshed tears. He sniffled, almost whimpering.

"If somethin' happened to Ellie, I don't know what I'd do with myself. I can't go through that again."

"Joel-"

"And- And when Sarah's mom walked out on us and didn't look back, I told myself that that was it. Tess came along, and she healed wounds that I ain't even realized I still had left. She knew what it was like to lose a partner, a child. Then, she died, and I couldn't do anythin' to stop it. I told myself that maybe love jus' wasn't in the cards for me, and then, your smile... made me feel what I felt when I'd hear Tess laugh."

"... What?"

"And- And I know I shouldn't feel like this." Joel shook his head more rapidly, his fingers rising to pinch the bridge of his nose. "You're young, and you've got so much life left to live. Sarah- Sarah would've been older than you if she were still-" Joel cut himself off with a sharp inhale. "I care about you, (Y/N). But if somethin' happened, and I couldn't do anythin' to prevent it..."

Had the world stopped? It certainly felt like it. 

(Y/N) stood deathly still, his body rigid and his brain struggling to piece together the puzzling words spewing from Joel's lips. His heart was in his ears, in his neck, thumping. His face grew warmer and warmer, and a fluttery feeling grew in his stomach.

Joel... liked him. Joel Miller... liked him? Joel Miller was so afraid of the idea of losing him, that he would rather disappear than deal with the possibility?

"Ellie's going to die someday." (Y/N) blurted out.

Joel's eyes shot up from the floor to stare at him, bewildered. "Huh?"

"Ellie's going to die someday. Tommy and Maria, too. All the people in this town. Me. You. We're all going to die someday. That doesn't stop us from living our lives, does it? That didn't stop Tommy from proposing and marrying Maria. That didn't stop the Fireflies from searching for a cure. Death... isn't preventable, Joel. It's a fact of life. You can't run from it. You accept it and make use of the time you have left."

(Y/N) raised and dropped his shoulders in a casual shrug, his head lolling to the side. He walked across the group in quiet, slow steps (because if he walked any faster, he suspected he'd topple over) and stopped in front of him, wiping the last of his tears away.

Joel stared at him, his eyes flickering between his, searching.

"Joel, my mother was diagnosed with cancer when she was my age. She didn't keel over to die. Even when it came back, she kept going, because she had people to live for."

With a hesitant hand, (Y/N) reached up to place his palm over Joel's shoulder, squeezing it. His lips tugged up in a little smile.

"I'm probably going to die of the same cancer that took her, and I likely won't know until my body's shutting down."

Joel's adams apple bobbed. "You serious?"

"Yes. Joel..." (Y/N) risked moving his hand up from Joel's shoulder to his cheek, his stubble tickling the soft skin of (Y/N)'s palm. "Do you really want to walk away from us and spend the rest of your life wondering how we are? Do you-"

His head felt so, so light. Joel Miller liked him.

"Do you really want to regret wasting time you could've spent with us?"

They stopped a couple of feet from the river's bank, their bodies hidden amongst the thick trees, waiting for any sign of the potential hostiles that lived on the other side. (Y/N) craned his neck, searching the other side for any bodies hidden amongst the brush and reeds.

Joel aimed at the sky with the rifle he'd taken back in Kansas, holding his breath in his chest and waiting a moment before he pulled the trigger. The gunshot echoed and vibrated off the trees, sending flocks of birds scattering into the air in a panic.

"Still no people," Ellie said after a few seconds, her voice sing-song with smugness. 

"Fine." Joel conceded with a light huff and stood up, studying the other side for a moment longer. Bits of snow fell from the fabric of his pants. "What're we thinkin', (Y/N)?"

(Y/N) fiddled with his gloves, deeming it too cold to go without them. He'd never seen or dealt with frostbite, but he'd heard plenty of horror stories about it. Skin turning blackish blue, muscles growing numb, and then hardening with tissue death.

Bill had told him tales of old acquaintances he'd known that'd had toes and fingertips amputated after developing frostbite while out hunting in the dead of winter. 

(Y/N) shuddered just thinking about it.

"I'm thinking..."

(Y/N) stood up, his boots slightly sinking in the thick snow. He adjusted his rifle, pressing it to his chest where he could grab and aim with ease. He squinted through the faint morning fog, but he couldn't spot any marks on the ground. 

"We walk around the river for a bit. If there's people-" He shot Ellie a sideways glance when she made a noise in the back of her throat. "-then chances are they're making their way over. Better to be safe than sorry."

"I agree." Joel nodded, surveying the area once more. "I say, we make our way toward that bridge. It's far enough that it'll give someone enough time to get to it. If it looks like there's no one on the other side, we cross." Snow clumps fell from the top of his backpack when he slid the strap further up his shoulder. "Sound good?"

Ellie gave a thumbs-up. "Yep!"

With his ears straining for noise, (Y/N) followed after Ellie and Joel, keeping to the trees in case he needed to duck behind one to avoid gunfire. Florence and Marlon had looked pretty genuine in their warning, but then again, who knew how long it'd been since they'd last seen bodies at the river's edge?

If Marlon was as cautious as he'd looked, he likely steered clear of the river to avoid unwanted attention. Maybe the hostiles had moved on to different lands.

The snowfall was a nuisance. It was hard to see into the distance, to look past the gray and white around them. Undisturbed snow had blanketed the bridge, and bubbling anxiety began to rise in (Y/N) when they made their way onto it.

It was metal, so the chances of rotted wood giving out beneath them were low, but metal rusted and bolts could grow loose.

Aside from a few creaks and gentle groans, the bridge held up, and his anxiety faded. They decided to stick to the river's edge for the time being, following its winding curves until the trees gave way to rolling, snowy hills where the snow began to melt into messier mush with the sun peeking out from behind the drifting clouds.

The snowfall let up, and (Y/N) allowed himself to gaze at the tall mountains that seemed to be everywhere he looked while Joel and Ellie made idle chit-chat over her inability to whistle and desire to learn how to hunt.

The sound of water falling reached their years, and they followed it, climbing up a hill until they reached the ridge overlooking a-

"Dam," Ellie announced, grinning like the devil at her little joke. (Y/N) couldn't help the knee-jerk need to roll his eyes.

"You're no Will Livingston," Joel commented dryly, his features deadpan. 

Ellie laughed, her eyes jumping all over the structure that blocked part of the river on one end and poured some of its water out from the other end, feeding into the other half of the river.

"So, that made electricity?" She asked, her head cocking. 

"Yeah," Joel answered, and then shot her a glance when she opened her mouth again. "Don't ask me. I don't have a single clue."

(Y/N) rocked back and forth on his feet when Ellie settled her questioning gaze on him instead. "Something about, uh..." He clicked his tongue. "Wheels? Or, uh, those things that have to be pushed with a lot of force to move and- I don't know. I know if it bursts, it can flood this whole area pretty quickly."

Ellie's brows shot up, her mouth falling open and eyes nearly bulging. "They can burst?"

"If they're not built properly or if something like an earthquake messes up the foundation, yeah. But this one's probably been up for longer than I've been alive, so... I'd say it won't be bursting anytime soon." (Y/N) told her, chuckling at the horrified shudder in her shoulders. He walked along the ridge's edge, following Joel's footprints. "All that water would easily wipe out a few of the nearby towns." 

"Jesus," Ellie whispered. "Did that happen a lot? Before the outbreak?"

(Y/N) rolled his lips into his mouth. He hadn't been the type of kid who readily watched news segments or paid attention to the newspaper. He'd preferred watching the morning cartoons.

"I don't... think so. If a dam failed, people got hurt, and then there'd be lawsuits against whoever built it. Everyone hated lawsuits." Joel huffed out a quiet chuckle ahead of them. "And nobody liked losing money."

"Huh."

Ellie slid her hands into the pockets of her navy blue coat, her head tilting out toward the river on the other side of the dam. Her brows began to furrow.

"Hey... why's the river crazy blue on this side?" (Y/N) looked out at the river. It was a more noticeable blue than the greenish tint of the water on the other side. "What if... this is the river of death."

Joel slowed to a stop and tugged the map out, his lips puckering slightly as he unfolded it. His eyes jumped around, searching for the red lines meant to indicate rivers on the map, searching for the spot Marlon had pointed out to them.

(Y/N) peeked over Joel's shoulder, rattling his memories, but he pulled a blank. Joel looked up and glanced around for landmarks, muttering under his breath.

(Y/N)'s gaze shot up when movement came over the hill ahead. "Joel." He hissed, his hand grabbing and tugging at Joel's elbow insistently, his skin somehow feeling colder at the sight of multiple people on horses galloping toward them.

Seemed like they had heard the gunshot.

Joel shoved the map back into his pocket clumsily, his arm shooting out to push them both behind him. (Y/N) staggered on his feet, his fingers grasping Ellie's shoulders until she was securely squished between them.

The strangers pointed guns at them, primarily long-distance rifles and shotguns, their bodies steadied atop the horses. Their horses neighed and huffed, stomping their hooves in the mushy snow.

"We don't want no trouble!" Joel called out to them, his hands raised high up in the air. (Y/N) and Ellie copied his movements.

"Drop the guns!" One man shouted in response, his voice muffled beneath the bandana he wore around the lower half of his face.

(Y/N) swallowed and slipped the rifle strap from his shoulder, tossing it to the side when Joel tossed his. His eyes lingered on his own rifle where the initials carved into it stared up at the sky.

"You two-" The man moved his gun between (Y/N) and Ellie. (Y/N) heard Ellie's sharp inhale. "Take five steps back. Now."

Joel's fingers twitched, curling slightly. His head turned, notably taking a dry swallow before he spoke. "You'll be alright." He reassured them softly. "Do as he says. It'll be okay."

Slowly, (Y/N) counted his steps backward. One, two, three, four, five. His eyes bounced from hidden face to hidden face, trying to figure out what their angle was.

They could've easily shot them down; they had enough gunmen surrounding them to ensure a kill shot. If they had the slightest moral compass, they'd spare Ellie. (Y/N) hoped so. 

"You been near infected?" The man questioned, his aim settling back on Joel. 

Joel shook his head. "There's none out here."

"Like hell there ain't." He sneered and tilted his head over his shoulder, his sharp whistle loud in the empty valley.

One man on foot hurried over the hill with a leashed dog in hand that barked and pulled on the leash, snapping its jaws furiously. (Y/N)'s heart skipped a beat in his chest.

"Last chance for a bullet. If you're infected, he will smell it, and he will rip you up."

(Y/N) noticed the tiny step Ellie took back and gave a subtle shake of his head. If the dog had been trained to detect and maul infected, it'd surely been trained to chase and attack anyone who ran. Her eyes widened at him pleadingly, her breath coming out quicker when the handler unclipped the leash from the dog's vest. 

It hurried up to Joel and sniffed furiously at his shoes, taking a few deeper breaths of his pant leg before it rose up onto its back legs to press its front paws over Joel's stomach. Its handler clicked his tongue, and the dog retreated to his side. The gunman motioned to (Y/N), and the handler pointed him out. 

Similarly, the dog trotted over to sniff at his boots and pants. Its tail wagged, and (Y/N) couldn't help the little chuckle that escaped him when the dog reared up on its back legs to prop its paws on him.

It gave a little, gentle yip, no longer looking as threatening as before, now that (Y/N) could look into its big, dark eyes.

"Like I said, we don't want no trouble," Joel said, his shoulders lowering slightly when the dog returned to its handler. "We'll just move on."

Come on. Come on.

The gunman looked toward Ellie, jerking his gun in her direction. "Now her."

(Y/N) held his breath, his eyes tracking the black shepherd. Its head lowered cautiously, its footsteps slow as its nose twitched and wiggled, sniffing the air around Ellie. (Y/N) glanced at his rifle and then at the people around them. No use in trying to reach it before the dog could potentially single Ellie out; he'd be dead before he even picked it up from the ground.

His gaze returned to Ellie, and she met his eyes again. The dog's tail slowly began to wag as it got around to sniffing her boots, and she let out a trembling breath, lowering her hand for the dog to sniff.

The dog's ears flew back, pinning against its skull as its tail began to wag harder. With a little giggle, Ellie lowered down, rubbing the dog's head and laughing when it lapped at her face. 

(Y/N) let out a soft breath of relief. Whatever it was in her blood that prevented the infection from growing, it'd saved her life yet again.

"You just bought yourself ten more seconds." The gunman informed them, his voice notably less harsh. "What're you doing out here?"

The tension in Joel's shoulders lessened. "I'm just looking for my brother."

"Ho!" A woman's voice followed, her tongue clicking to prompt her horse forward toward them. She squinted at Joel, her brows furrowed tightly. "What's your name?"

Joel frowned. "Joel."

The woman's chin tipped upward, and she looked at her companion, speaking quietly. The gunman's brows tightened, and he studied the three of them for a moment longer before slowly lowering his gun.

He gave what seemed to be a reluctant nod and cleared his throat, flicking his wrist. One of the riders got off his horse and collected the guns from the ground, tugging on the reins of his horse until he stood in front of Joel.

"You're coming with us." The woman told them, her tone leaving no room for argument or debate. "There's someone you need to meet."

(Y/N) answered Ellie's perplexed stare with a light shrug and motioned for her to come when another rider offered him their horse. He climbed onto the saddle and helped Ellie climb onto the back, ensuring her arms were tight around his waist. He gripped the reins, his stomach naturally doing flips when the horse walked forward on its own, following the rest. 

First time for everything. He never considered how... weird it'd be to ride a horse. It was a sensation he couldn't describe, his body both elevated from the ground, but not so far enough to induce the natural queasiness of heights. He swallowed down the yelp that threatened to come out when the horse quickened its pace into a light jog to keep up with the others, his nose crinkling. 

The group took them through the hills and a small section of forest that broke out into a big, sparse clearing. Up ahead, (Y/N) made out a tall, wooden wall that looked miles long. One rider lifted a bandana and waved it around until the gates opened for them, the horses slowing down into a brisk walk. (Y/N)'s brows raised.

Within the walls was a town filled with people walking the streets, heading in and out of the differing shops lining the main street. It was odd, he realized, seeing so many people in one spot.. thriving.

There were children trailing after their parents, teenagers building snowmen and occasionally throwing snowballs at each other, seniors being pushed around in wheelchairs or carefully walking with canes. A community. A real one.

It reminded him of Lincoln, of all the times he'd sit on the curb and look around the desolate town, wondering what it'd looked like before the outbreak. 

Ellie swatted at his side insistently, laughing breathlessly, her head whipping around each and every way to take everything in. (Y/N) smiled to himself, gazing over the wreaths and garlands hung up on store windows or on doors. They were preparing for the holidays, as if everything were normal again. 

Joel tugged gently on his horse's reins, his back straightening with his attention locked on one of the men working on helping lift a wooden pillar. "Tommy!" He called to the man, his voice almost breaking. 

The man, his brother, Tommy, looked up, freezing in place with surprise. He spotted them and moved without a second thought, hurrying down the steps as Joel climbed off his horse.

The two men broke out into light jogs until their bodies collided, their arms swinging around each other and their feet stumbling from the hard embrace.

For the first time since meeting him, (Y/N) heard Joel laugh, bright and joyful. Emotional. (Y/N)'s smile widened. It was a sweet sound.

"Can we even trust these people?" Ellie asked quietly. 

(Y/N) licked his lips, taking another look around. "Maybe. I'm not sure." He replied, reaching back to tap her knee. She steadied her hands on his shoulder and began to climb off the horse. "But we can trust Joel."

Ellie puckered her lips and stared at the two brothers. "Right."

Tommy and the woman, Maria, as she'd introduced herself when the horses were led away, took them to the dining hall, where they were served a plate full of warm, real, belly-filling food. They eagerly dug in, and (Y/N) hummed pleasantly, chewing on the baked potatoes and thick sausage slices. His stomach hungered for more, and he happily obliged.

Maria blinked slowly, her brows raised high. "There's more if you need it."

"Thank you, ma'am." Joel's voice was gentle, that southern charm (Y/N) had heard about bleeding out. He almost couldn't recognize the Joel sitting beside him. "It's been a while since we've last had a proper meal."

"I don't think I've ever had a proper meal." Ellie took a breath, her next spoonful ready to be shoved in her mouth. (Y/N) brought his glass of water to his lips. "This is fucking amazing."

(Y/N) managed to stop himself before he could choke on his water, holding it in his cheeks and swallowing it down slowly. His eyes jumped to Tommy and Maria, who stared at Ellie with strained looks. "We shouldn't curse at the table, Ellie." He mumbled to her, wiping his lips with his sleeve. Bill and Frank may have allowed it, but his mother would've swatted him over the head for cursing in general.

"Yes, Ellie," Joel shot her a subtle look, and he gave his brother and Maria an apologetic grimace. "Let's mind our manners."

Ellie huffed softly and shoved some more food into her mouth, chewing quickly and irritably. (Y/N) took another gulp of water and scraped the last of his food onto his fork, bringing it to his lips as Ellie leaned forward slightly, her eyes locked on a young girl around her age peeking out from behind a pillar across the room. 

"What?" Ellie barked, and the girl flinched back with wide eyes, quickly turning and hurrying away. Ellie scoffed. "What about her manners?"

"She's just curious," Maria explained gently. "Kids around here don't usually look or talk like you."

"Right... well, maybe I'll teach them." Ellie brushed her hair out of her face, ignoring the wide-eyed, shut-the-hell-up stare Joel gave her from around (Y/N). Her eyes narrowed slightly. "And I want my gun back."

Maria's features remained cooled, relaxed. Unbothered. "They also aren't armed." 

(Y/N) swallowed down the rest of his food and straightened up, pushing his plate forward slightly so he could rest his arms over the table. "I'd like my rifle back." He piped up, looking between the two of them. "It's... important to me." 

"We'll see." Maria's smile was polite, not quite reaching her eyes.

(Y/N) frowned, his heart leaping to his throat and his head tilting to look at Joel beside him with his brows pulled together. Joel shifted in his seat at the sight of his face, the so-called puppy eyes seemingly working their magic on him. He cleared his throat, his hand dropping to pat his knee reassuringly. 

"I'm sure we'll work somethin' out, (Y/N), yeah?" Joel spoke quietly, softly, and (Y/N) deflated, his cheeks tinging with heat when he noticed the squinted-eyed look Tommy wore. Joel's fingers lightly squeezed the top of his knee. "You'll see it again. Don't worry."

"It belongs to his dead father." Ellie bristled at Maria, her lip curling slightly. (Y/N)'s lips parted, and he reached out, setting his hand over her back in hopes of soothing the bubbling rage visibly building up inside her. "It's important. Just give it to him."

Joel scowled. "Ellie."

"Alright, you know what?" Tommy straightened up, his breathy chuckle a tad awkward. He was a handsome man, with dark, wavy hair that reached to his earlobes, dark eyes that resembled Joel's, and a thick mustache above his upper lip. His skin was fair, like Joel's, and they shared a similar build. "I think y'all got off on the wrong foot-"

"She was going to have her guys kill us! You got a couple of 90-year-olds shitting themselves out there. They say that you leave dead bodies around?"

"Ellie, hey."

(Y/N)'s fingers reached up to lightly tug on her ponytail, and he arched a brow at her when she gave a light yelp and whipped her head around to look at him.

"I get it, okay, but we have plenty of time for questions. Right now, you need to fix your attitude and finish your food... and don't talk with your mouth full."

Ellie rolled her eyes. "Fine. Whatever."

Maria's fingers drummed on the table, her gaze coasting amongst the three of them, observing. Analyzing. The brains of the operation, from the looks of it, or at least someone very trusted by whoever called the shots.

"The dead bodies are the people who tried us, who refused to comply as you guys did." 

"A bad reputation doesn't mean you're bad," Tommy added, cracking a smile for them.

Joel chewed his food and swallowed the last of it, washing it down with his water. "Ma'am," He began, dusting crumbs off his fingers and clearing his throat. "We’re grateful for your hospitality and all. But it’d be nice to have a moment here, maybe just for family."

"Well, uhm.."

Tommy sat up in his chair, one arm bracing over the table while he extended his other to Maria, taking her hand in his. The matching golden bands on their ring fingers proved hard to miss when their hands curled around each other.

"Maria is family, actually."

(Y/N) took a sip of his water in the awkward, heavy silence that followed, whilst Joel stared at their hands with an unreadable look on his face. He rubbed his lips together, gently setting the cup down and jerking his elbow to bump Joel's side.

He tucked in his chin, whispering to him, "Say congrats, Joel." 

Joel's hands curled into fists. "Congrats." He forced out through gritted teeth, and (Y/N) wasn't sure why it'd been tightly spoken or why his shoulders had grown tense again.

Anger toward himself for missing out on his baby brother's wedding, or the fact that it was Maria he'd married?

Tommy rolled his lips into his mouth. "Well," He exhaled with an airy, forced chuckle. "How 'bout a tour?"

The community, Jackson, had been created around seven years prior. They'd built off the gated community where most of the houses resided, building and building until they managed to create a small town within the wooden walls on all sides.

Being in the middle of nowhere and in the back country kept them mostly safe from raiders, and they only dealt with a few infected every once in a while. The dam provided their electricity and clean water.

They were tight, strict. It seemed like communicating with anyone beyond the walls was prohibited, deemed a safety issue, and from the sounds of their 'bad reputation', they were likely picky about who they allowed in, and who they allowed to actually stay.

It sounded selfish, purposely staying out of the radar of anyone else when they had a safe haven, but it was only safe because of that.

They housed various animals that were bred and used for different necessities, amongst them sheep that delighted Ellie. (Y/N) grinned at the sight of a little baby clumsily racing after its herd, its long, floppy ears swinging around with its hurried pace, before his attention drew toward the multiple greenhouses set up nearby.

Jackson was practically perfect.

"No one person's in charge," Maria revealed to them, her breath visible in the air with the sun beginning to set and the temperature dropping. "I’m on the council. Democratically elected, serving 300 people, including children. Everyone pitches in. We rotate patrols, food prep, repairs, hunting, harvesting."

Tommy tucked some hair behind his ear. "Everything you see in our town… greenhouses, livestock, all shared. Collective ownership."

Joel rubbed his gloved hands together, humming. "So, uh, communism."

"Nah, nah," Tommy scoffed, offended. "It ain't like that."

Maria glanced back at her husband with a faint grin. "It is that. Literally. This is a commune. We’re communists."

(Y/N) tried not to laugh at the realization and horror that rapidly dawned on Tommy's face, stifling a snort and covering it up with a cough when he slowed down and stared down at the ground.

His amusement quickly morphed into awe when Ellie quickened her step to rush over to the stables, where a foal peeked its head out to look at them. 

"Oh, Joel, look."

He laughed giddily, his eyes widening with amazement. He'd never seen a foal before, not in person at least. Gently, he brushed his fingers over its- her snout, his lips stretching into a smile so big it made his cheeks ache.

The foal tilted her head back, curious, her nostrils flaring with each inhale. Ellie giggled, scratching the underside of the foal's snout. 

"We can get you guys settled in on the house across from ours," Maria revealed, her hands sliding into the pockets of her coat and her eyes flickering between her husband and Joel. "I can take Ellie and (Y/N) over there while you two catch up?"

(Y/N) turned to look at Joel, his smile dying down when he noticed the tightness had returned to his face. He dropped his hand from the foal and turned his body to face him, his head tilting to the side questioningly.

He expected Joel to be over the moon about reuniting with his brother and discovering a completely functioning, self-sufficient community, but he looked as if he'd bitten into something bitter.

"Sure." Joel breathed out, nodding, his eyes downcast. "Ellie, stick with (Y/N). I'll see you guys soon, yeah?"

(Y/N) nodded, despite his uncertainty. "Yeah... yeah."