baby girl.

“Ah!” Joel let out a groan of pain without meaning to. He winched as his daughter pressed the damp cloth to his temple. “Why are you always so positive?” He asked, rhetorically. Despite the world crumbling around them, Sarah always seemed to see the good in any situation.

He pressed his hand to the cloth and let her hand fall away. “Thank you.” He said sincerely, though still in pain he was grateful for the help. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as his head continued to throb. “Could really do with a whiskey right about now.” At least they hadn’t met any infected. Only a few men with guns and fists who seemed less than pleased at the sight of strangers suddenly appearing on their turf..

          “Hey,” Sarah’s voice vibrated with a quiet laugh and she gave his knee a good-natured thump, “one of us has to balance out all that old man grouchiness, old timer.”

          “Positive”? She supposed that was one way to look at it. Whether she believed in that positivity or not, it didn’t really matter; sometimes forcing a silver lining was about the only thing that kept her afloat. But... really, though, it could have been worse. She has no other option but to think about all the ways how every time they go out, every time one of them gets hurt.

          Lately (and she always did her best not to dwell too long on this particular thought), it was usually Joel who came back with the most aches, scrapes, and bruises.

“I would do anything for you, Sarah. All of my oaths and education, that’s old world. I just want to keep you safe.” - @that-kid-from-vault-101​

          “I know.”

          Aaron didn’t have to say so for Sarah to understand that he loved her; that much had been true from the first time he’d fought tooth and nail to save her. He could have ditched her at the nearest quarantine zone years ago, but he didn’t. The blood on his hands was fought for her survival as much as his own.

          “But Harley doesn’t treat you right,” she said. “I’m scared of him. I’m scared that he’s gonna hurt you.”

          Sarah levels him with a concerned pinch of her brow. She’s not stupid, and Harley doesn’t exactly keep his threats quiet. If someone even smells like they might step out of line, he makes sure the whole camp knows, and he ensures that an example is made.

Is it too early after coming back to post this? Hahaa, well, too bad, because I love shipping, and would be delighted to write some romance with Sarah.

Sarah leans toward men, but I’m also open to shipping her with women as well. Healthy ships, unhealthy ships, somewhere in-between... whatever floats your boat! If you’re interested, please give this post a ♥ or reply and we can talk about it.

the agency of it all || accepting

"I know first aid, is it okay if I take a look?" (from Joel) - @protectxthem​

          His voice caused her to start, dragging her out of a storm of thoughts; all, mostly, about him.

          “Uh... Yeah. Yeah, sure.” Sarah turned carefully were she sat and and bent to roll up her pant leg. The bandage was dirty, almost soaked through with blood old and new. “The guy carryin’ the bulk of our first aid was one of the first t’ go. Infected had swarmed ‘im the second he was down... It wouldn’t have been worth the risk trying to retrieve it.”

          With a wince, she began trying to unwrap the gauze, but had to stop halfway.

          “Ah. Jesus...” A measured inhale. “Sorry. It’s— it’s the blood. You’d think that after all this time I’d be desensitized to it. But it still makes me almost as queasy as when I was a kid.”

          Despite herself, Sarah smiled at him, unable to help the slight glossiness in her eyes as she studied the new lines on his face. She hadn’t told him yet, but he was her father.

          Maybe it was stupid to keep the truth from him—and maybe some even stupider part of her hoped that maybe he’d recognize her himself—but the thought of voicing it scared her more than she knew how to verbalize. It had been twenty years since they’d seen each other, twenty years to think he was dead. To finally have him now, standing in front of her... some absurd fear told her that if she acknowledged it, he’d disappear. Or, more realistically, accuse her of lying and tell her to fuck off. Sarah’s sure that’s what she’d do were she in his shoes.

the agency of it all || accepting

"Do you want to talk about it?" (from tess) - @iwritemilfs​​

          “What’s there t’ talk about?” Sarah grunted as she hefted her backpack over her shoulder. “Things went to shit for everyone that day. Me moanin’ about it ain’t gonna change anything.”

          It was a decent walk to the Boston QZ, but the closer they got, the colder the Firefly tag hidden under her shirt felt. With her cell dead, it’d be easy to leave. Abandon the delivery, let Marlene think the supply just wasn’t coming, and avoid walking into Boston altogether. Avoid walking right into the lion’s den...

          But it was a job, she reminded herself. And no matter how miniature, it was important. A revolution was more than just flashy displays of power.

          Sarah just hoped that for once she might see some fruits grow from their hard, dangerous labor. Promise of a better future? Of a life more like the one they’d lost? Yeah. She wished.

Giving these first two eps an 8/10!