wolf man

A GUST OF COLD AIR ENTERS THE SHACK AS JOEL SLIPS THROUGH THE DOOR. the early winter weather of the midwest was something he could never really stomach. it wasn't the same as boston winters, spent behind the comfort of the quarantine zone walls. this one gets deep inside your bones, freezes you from the inside out. the air that escapes him becomes visible as he rubs his hands together, creating a warm friction that comforts him against the sudden temperature change. when he adjusts, several layers of clothing are shed on the way to the fire burning in the old fireplace, hands seeking the embrace of its warmth. it is only then that joel acknowledges her question. ❝ ran into some trouble out there, but it wasn't anything i couldn't handle. just set me back a couple'a hours. 'sides, the deer i was tracking was scared off by all the commotion. looks like it's just rabbit. we'll hunt for something bigger tomorrow, figure we gotta head out anyways. ❞

IT IS POINTLESS TO WASTE TIME AND ENERGY ON CONVERSATION. this world has quickly devolved into something sinister, something primal. in a matter of a week, the world around them had been reduced to chaos. society collapsed around them as the infected took to the streets, fedra bombed safe zones, and the fireflies rose to power. even now, in the middle of no where, they fight for the right to breathe the air around them. an onlooker, unbiased by the weight of this disaster, might find them no different from those they sought to survive. joel climbs to full height, battered and bloodied from their altercation. however, there is very little desire to step back, but rather a newfound desire to fight. like a wolf backed into a corner, he almost snarls in response.

❝ this where you wanna die? ❞ the blood on his hands smudge into the handle of a makeshift weapon, forged from an old shovel and various sharpened objects. the creativity it took to make these weapons was profound, but there was hardly any time to admire it. he swings at the other man, intent on killing him, for he's certain that, given the opportunity, the same would be done to him.

  THE SUN IS BEATING DOWN ON THEM.   a stifling heat.   nothing the usual agreeable weather of boston afforded them during these busy summer months.   he takes a moment to look up to the blinding blue sky, taking notice of its lack of clouds.   for a moment, it reminds him of home, of texas, of another life.  calloused hands reach to grab a canister of water while mindlessly wandering to the shaded comfort of an old, rotting tree.   one long swig, and only then do her words begin to process.   of course he’s pissed.   the anger settles between his brows and tensed shoulders.   they were fucked.   royally fucked.   and maybe they didn’t need to do half the shit they just did, but that was the problem with this line of work.   people were unpredictable.   these jobs were always a gamble.   joel heaves a sigh, shoulders barely relaxing as the air escapes him.

                    she’s lucky it’s tommy that sees her approach the gates of the settlement.  she’d been meekly rationing her short stack of food & drink for nearly a week, and barely had the wherewithal to have to explain how she knew tommy miller without sounding like an immediate threat to a stranger.  still, she’s not so delirious to not comment on the length of tommy’s hair as he takes an arm around his shoulder and helps her to the medical tent.     “ got yourself quite a catch, miller. ”     she croaks, as maria brings her a canteen of water and a sandwich.  she doesn’t stop to appreciate that it’s the first real food, not just another fucking can of 25 year old beans, she’s had since, hell, years, as she scarfs it down, gesturing vaguely at his ring and then back towards maria’s silhouette when tommy asks how she could’ve known, as if to say :  intuition.  between gulps of water, she grabs tommy by the wrist when he suggests that he’ll go get joel;  that he should be up by now.  she unceremoniously wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.     “ no, i’m good to go.  just show me where he’s at. ”     there’s enough conviction in her voice, commanding something faintly familiar from a lifetime ago, she imagines, that he doesn’t question it.  he points her towards down the path, and she clicks her tongue and elbows him in the side, tells him to get back to his patrol when he offers to walk her there.

                    she only takes in the scale of this settlement the same way she scopes out any new space when on a job :  looking for weak points, planning escape routes that would obscure them from any scoped views.  when her hand shakes slightly, she’ll blame it on the ache in her shoulder running down to her fingers, and the sudden rush of having real food and water after a week running on empty, and not the nerves of – …  well.  his door is open, likely to let the brisk fresh morning air circulate.  she leans quietly on the doorframe, and the slight hunch in his back as he tends to something – coffee, she thinks, from what she smells – on the counter is comfortingly familiar.  she hadn’t had the luxury of daydreaming of what this might feel like, aside from the past few minutes.  she’s grateful for it, as her nerves immediately ease up with a relieved & soft sigh.     “ wow.  real coffee?  they’ve got you all set up here, texas. ”

          𝐈𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐎 - younger years spent in boston were seen through a nostalgic filter, tinged with the pretty amber of autumn leaves. he remembers what it felt like to breathe in the brisk morning air as they stumbled out of the quarantine zone. he remembers the feeling of freedom as they wandered the quiet streets of former civilization, sight seeing as they scavenged unmarked areas. but most of all? joel remembers meeting tess, and how quickly they’d found their fates intwined. he tries not to remember the after, or the year spent trekking across the united states, or the grief he’d never really managed to work his way through. it was something he’d decided not to talk about, even when tommy had asked around while they were reflecting on their youth.

  the coffee is quietly brewing in the corner, its bitter aroma carries through the small home. upon the walls are pictures, knick knacks, artwork. everything that made a home look normal, like before everything had happened. joel leans against the counter for a few long moments, fingers grasping at a few dirty dishes from last night. ellie had stayed over for a movie night. another classic, something he’d not even seen in theatres. but all concentration falters when tess’s voice breaks the silence. another impossible, something long buried, despite all longing. 

he turns to face her now, dark brows furrowing, studying her features, taking her all in. even when tommy had stopped by earlier, the news was something that joel could hardly process. boston was thousands of miles away now, and the last they’d seen of each other, tess was good as dead. and yet, here they are, standing in the quiet of a home, silence falling between them for another long stretch. calloused hands fall back against the cool tile of the countertop, shoulders visibly tense, before a heavy breath moves passed parted lips. a sigh of relief.

while physical impairment due to his run in with abby has left him with a permanent limp on his right side, which requires the use of a cane, as well as the loss of hearing from his left ear, there are longer lasting effects of a traumatic brain injury due to the beating that he took at the hands of the golf club.

chronic migraines, dizziness and fatigue

sleep difficulties ie. insomnia

short and long term memory loss

unexplained mood swings

countless  times  over,  the  first  game  shoved  it  down  your  throat  that  joel  was  incredibly  perceptive.   he  could  read  a  person’s  intentions  before  they  even  manage  to  get  a  few  words  out.  against  his  better  judgment,  joel  and  tommy  intervene  and  save  abby  from  being  killed  by  the  horde  of  infected.   shortly  after  tommy introduces  them  by  name,  it’s  apparent  that  something  is  up.  they  agree  to  head  up  to  the  lodge,  but  the  atmosphere  feels  off  and  joel  urges  his  brother  to  leave.   when  they  both  try  to  slip  away,  they’re  caught  and  dragged  back  into  the  building.  instead  of  being  shot  in  the  leg,  he  was  shot  from  behind  in  the  shoulder  during  their  attempted  escape.

inside the building,  abby makes  it  clear  that  she  intends  to kill  him  and  begins  beating  him  to  death  with  the  golf  club.  first  she  hits  his  right  knee,  keeping  him  from  making  another  attempted  escape  and  continues  to  hit  him  at  various  points  of  his  body  to  drag  out  the  pain.  however,  the  killing  blow  isn’t  landed  and  joel  survives  the  altercation.  [  though  it’s  assumed  that  abby  thinks  he  is  dead ]

after  returning  to  jackson,  joel  is  kept  under  heavy  observation  and  remains  unstable  /  in  a  coma  due  to  brain  swelling. when tommy  and  ellie  leave,  it  is  uncertain  whether  or  not  he  will  make  it,  but  it’s  of  the  general  opinion  that  he  won’t  due  to  the  severity  of  the  trauma.