Chapter One - See, The Sea Wants To Take Me
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Summary: After the fight in Santa Barbra, Ellie treks to the ruins of Los Angeles to carry out her suicide. Coincidentally, Abby and Lev are also headed toward Los Angeles.
CW and TW's: obviously heavy focus on suicidal thoughts, actions, and ideation, canon typical violence and gore, depression, anxiety, mentions of going insane, hearing things, overall severe mental instability, ellabs, author writes too many words, very slow burn. I will update this every chapter for new warnings but like seriously everyone is mentally fucked.
“See, the sea wants to take me
The knife wants to slit me
Do you think you can help me?”
The shitty, sputtering motor of the boat they’d taken has long since faded. The roar of the surf has not. It was too even, waxing and waning in a maddeningly similar rhythm, dragging high enough for the salt water to sting her wounds but too low to drag her out to the tossing sea. The pain didn’t hurt as much as it probably should have. Maybe she wasn't feeling as much as she should have. The deep puncture in her side was a dull throb. The missing fingers were a throbbing burn. Her body ached, but it was dull and far away. She waited for high tide to pull her into its freezing, foamy blanket of darkness, but instead the waves thrashed firmly into her body and pulled her forward, burying her knees uncomfortably in the sand. Getting up is an astronomical task. But if Ellie wishes to die peacefully rather than suffocating in a tumbling, gritty current, she’ll need to. Her body was heavy and leaden. Movement was harder than it should have been. But it had been that way for a long time now. Her fingers feel stiff and unresponsive from the cold and something in her head is buzzing and fuzzy like she’s recounting a memory. She isn’t crying anymore, but the heavy, sludgy weight like wet concrete packed on her chest hasn’t lessened.
She failed, again.
She had Abby, she wasn’t going to be able to escape.
She was going to kill her, make her pay for what she did and watch the light leave her hollowed eyes as she choked on burning, bloody saltwater.
Abby had been thrashing, grabbing desperately at Ellie’s arms, weakly trying to reach oxygen as her lungs burned and ached. It was so satisfying, to finally see the look of terror people only get in their eyes when they know they are about to die. Ellie’s heart swelled and rushed, pounding with adrenaline, breaths puffing out in hysterical excitement despite the dry sobs and tears peppered in between. It was so fucking euphoric to see that face. Until it wasn’t. Abby was so covered in blood her face was sticky and unrecognizable, pulled tight in horror and desperation. So close to giving up but fighting to stay on the earth just a little longer for something to protect. Just like him.
She looked just like him.Only for a moment. Her face flashed into someone different. A moment was enough to shock Ellie into a flinch. A moment was enough hesitation for Ellie’s fingers to slip just a little closer to Abby’s cracked lips. And then they were gone. And now she was gone with that fucking kid in tow.
She could have killed her. She should have killed her. That’s what she came here for. Why didn’t she?
Ellie can't think about that. Not now, and not ever. She was done thinking anyway. Done with the nightmares and the deep, hollow, pit that spanned all the way from her chest down to the bottom of her belly. She was done with everything. Now she’s up, trudging through sand and sage brush. She’s not paying much attention to her surroundings anymore, just walking aimlessly. So lost in the depths of her own brain that she’s not even sure where she is and what she’s doing, or why she’s doing it, or how soft, sinking sand feels under her leaden legs. She wants to go somewhere pretty, to get a breathtaking view one last time. Because it’s not like she can go home. If she could even call the farm home. Probably not anymore. Dina had been clear about the consequences of Ellie leaving the farm to chase Abby, and Dina was many things, but not one to bluff. They were done. There wasn’t any way to reconcile placing finding Abby over a life with her girlfriend. So the farm was out of the question. As for Jackson? Even more out of the question, if that was even possible. Because she couldn’t go back, and look Tommy in the eye and tell him she had failed to kill the monster who mutilated his brother again. Not to mention Jackson was full of ghosts. Everything there just reminded her of him. She couldn’t eat when she was staring at the seat he used to eat next to her in. Couldn’t sleep when Jesse’s parents were a few doors down still grieving their son who never had to be lost. In the back of her mind, she’s aware that her body is exhausted. That doesn’t matter because her mind is no longer part of her body, which is just a vessel for one last trek to free her consciousness forever.
Night has come and gone as she walks.She does hear clicks and groans, but by some miracle they remain distant, her wasting body not making enough sound as she walks to draw attention. She’s grateful for that. She plans to die anyways, but still, she’s not fond of the idea of having her fucking jugular ripped out by a stinking, snarling infected.
In one of the few moments as she walks that she actually clocks into her surroundings, she sees a faded green freeway sign. There’s a few destinations named on it, most of which mean nothing to her, so she ignores them. But one of them does catch her attention. Los Angeles. The number next to it is a worn, peeling 10. Only ten miles. It used to be a major city. Maybe it’s like Seattle, or Salt Lake. The buildings there are high. High enough for a nice view and fresh, cool air from broken windows. And a quick way down. Fiveish miles later and Ellie must be going fucking insane. Much to her dismay, the whole mind no longer part of her body thing seems to be useless once her mind processes that she has a plan. That this shit is real. Her body reminds her mind that it’s deteriorating. She limps with a hand clutching her right side. Her shirt is sticky with whatever is oozing out of it. She grits her teeth and tilts her head back while she sucks in air. God how did Joel get all the way across the country with that stab wound? Ellie’s not sure she can even make it across Southern California. His voice echoes in her head so loud she really is fearing for her sanity.
“Trust me, it ain’t easy” She finally gets it. She’s toyed with the thought of suicide for a long time, sometimes more seriosuly than others, but it mostly was just… there. The thoughts were comforting to her, knowing that the salvation of death was always waiting for her. But she couldn't do it before.
“You keep finding something to fight for.”
She has nothing left to fight for.
She let Abby go.
There’s no more Joel or Jesse or Riley.
Dina is not awaiting her return.
JJ will never curl back up on her chest while she watches the sun set over dry grass.
She realizes she is certainly insane when she thinks she hears Abby’s name echo out in a sharp cry somewhere far to her right.
Ellie rasps to herself, hands shaking, rubbing her temple. She’s lost it. Thank god she’s about to die.
Grey outlines of tall, crumbling concrete buildings finally cut through the strange, overcast afternoon haze. With a choked sob of pain Ellie speeds up. She’s so fucking close. The crumbly asphalt freeway she follows has been reclaimed with grasses and weeds pushing up at the edges of the road. It no longer smells like the beach, but it doesn't smell dry or like acrid infected and damp, moldy spores. Slightly dry looking shrubs and trees are fucking everywhere on the outskirts of the city, just enough for the smell to carry slightly in the wind. She doesn’t explore the city. Maybe there was a time when she would have admired the tall buildings and the wide ranges of architecture. Contrasted the graffiti and billboards that clearly used to be bright and lively with what she saw in other big cities. Now it just looks dull and disgusting. Colors are faded, buildings are crumbly, cars are rusted, and roads are decaying like her insides. She doesn't need to explore anyways, there's a tall building right in front of her, perfectly overlooking the entire city right from the edge. It calls to her. It must be bringing her failing body forward with its own gravitational pull, helping her stumble toward it so she can slowly drag herself up the staircase.
The stairs are impossible to climb, so she crawls. There's nobody around, and she doesn't have it in her to care anymore anyways. There is no dignity left in her; it disappeared in the Santa Barbara tide a day ago. Guttural cries and sobs of pain and sorrow and emptiness leave her as her body slowly climbs the cracking tile stairs. It hurts. Her body is bony and bruised everywhere, her mangled hand can't properly grip the ledge of the next stair, her side burns so badly she's sure the next time she blinks her eyes won't be able to pry themselves back open. She doesn't care how loud she is as she groans and heaves and sobs, slamming her body from step to step. If an infected wants to come and tear her throat from her skin, let it. By some miracle Ellie drags herself up to the fourth floor. Usually, she would climb much higher to ensure her death, but there’s no way she can make it another flight. Her entire body shakes, pain blooms everywhere inside and on her skin. Not to mention she’s so weak she can barely move, and so dizzy her hands splay on the ground to try and orient herself as she crawls, completely prone, to a broken window. Her body is completely done for. Even if she's only on the fourth floor, the drop is unquestionably fatal for such a frail body. Ellie gasps and spits up bloody, watery liquid when her arms finally grab the window frame and drape her body over it, her torso hanging out the window with no strength left to stand straight.
She was right, the view is beautiful. Breathtaking, literally. But not worth it. God she doesn't even care. There is no beauty for her to find. Only a world where he’s gone, and she's alive. Abby is alive with that stupid, fucking kid while she has no Joel to ask about what LA looked like before the world went to shit. None of it is beautiful because it's ruined. There is no cure, and there never will be, because she is dying. Blood rushes to her head as she slowly shimmies more, pathetically wigging herself headfirst out the window. There’s a pounding behind her, but it’s probably just her heart.
With one last, guttural noise that's not a sob but not a scream and a push, she slides, and then she's moving. But not downward face first toward the blissful release of death. Some sick, demented, hateful fucking force yanks her backward, draging her injured side against the jagged window ledge and pinning her to the musty, water damaged carpeting of the building. Someone rasps in her ear, and then screams roughly into it, but all she hears is her own despair.
Song: I Know It's Over - The Smiths
Dividers from @uzmacchiato
Taglist: @bumasslesbian um that's it lmk if u wanna be added 🥹
