I'm a thinker, not a talker

Two months after settling in Jackson, he was still working on changing the way she was seeing him, but he didn't hold a grudge. He probably would have reacted the same way if he'd been in her shoes, considering what Joel and Tommy had  to do to survive, until his brother couldn’t deal with it anymore, left for Jackson and found a new way of living. 

A part of Joel started feeling guilty about it after Tommy told him he still had nightmares from that time. He admitted it during a heated argument when Joel and Ellie just came to Jackson. He really couldn't blame Maria, especially when those years wouldn’t let Tommy sleep peacefully at night.

At the same time, Joel was convinced he had done what he had to, and that it had helped them to survive for all those years.

“Is this a new guitar?” Tommy asked when he noticed the instrument, picked it up and brushed the strings above the engraved moth. “Yeah. I told Ellie I’d teach her how to play. I wanted her to have her own and I customized it.” Joel paused and scratched his beard with his thumb, then added “she asked me to sing somethin’. I've never been so intimidated my whole life.” “How can this small kid scare the shit out of us is a mystery to me,” Tommy smiled. He had liked Ellie immediately. She was a real whirlwind with a damn mouth on her, and at first he was amused to see her push Joel around. Then he noticed the way his brother was looking at her. It reminded him of the other version of Joel, the one from more than twenty years ago, which he thought he’d never see again. “What did she think of it?” “She said it didn’t suck.” “Best compliment ever from a 15 year old, in my opinion,” Tommy smiled. “It’s good that Ellie’s in your life, she’s good for you. Changed you.” “I reckon she did…” Tommy noticed a veil of sadness over his brother’s face, Sarah probably on his mind. He didn’t want Joel to feel sad. The man had been miserable for twenty years, carrying his grief on his shoulders the whole time, turning into a dark version of himself. The weight seemed lighter since Joel and Ellie joined Jackson for good two months ago, and Tommy wished for his brother to keep healing. 

“How's her arm?” he asked, wanting to change the subject. “It’s ok. We went to the clinic this morning. It still hurts a little, but she’s tough.” “She is,” Tommy agreed. Then he cleared his throat and said, “listen, there’s a party on Saturday night at the Tipsy Bison, with music, stuff like that. Wanna come?” “I heard of it, I’m not sure. I’ll think about it.” “It could help you meet people, y’know?” Joel threw him a glare before answering, “People? ‘m not interested.” “Come on, Joel, I’m not talking about dating, just… talking,” Tommy added, but was soon interrupted by Joel. “I said I’m not interested. I wanna take care of Ellie and keep Jackson safe. So I do my stuff, go on patrols, with people by the way.” “Sure. Ok,” he nodded and patted Joel’s back, before leaving.

Tommy closed the door behind him and walked home down Jackson's main street. He didn't bring the subject to upset Joel, he knew they handled things differently. He was glad to have found his brother again, maybe not fully but a huge part of him, the one to whom he was so attached when he was little, to whom he wrote letters from a camp, missing him terribly.

Tommy couldn’t imagine what Joel had gone through. He wasn’t the one whose daughter died in his arms, and he wasn’t the one that lost the love of his life the same night. He had no idea how he’d have reacted if it had happened to him. Tommy knew that you were still in Joel's mind. He kept going for so long thanks to the idea that you were alive, in the Boston QZ, until he checked the arrival records. Tommy was there that day, next to Joel as he turned all the pages, his face distorted by pain. Soon it morphed into anger and Tommy had to make him leave the office, fearing that Joel would hit a soldier as an outlet when he couldn’t find your name in it.

And now… Now Tommy didn't know if Joel was still holding on to the idea that you were alive somewhere, and he didn't dare talk to him about you. He wasn't afraid of being told to fuck off, he was used to it, but he didn't want to reopen the wound that Ellie had started to cicatrize. When Joel and Tess grew closer, Tommy thought his brother would soften, but it only turned him into a guard dog, obsessed with the idea of ​​protecting her, of succeeding where he had failed before. But once again, fate decided otherwise. He wanted to see his brother happy, really happy, and thought that meeting someone in the safety of Jackson would help, but he also knew how stubborn Joel was. He still hadn't gotten rid of his watch, or at least put it in a box at home. No, it was still on his damn wrist, where he could see it, feel it, all damn day, because he was convinced he had to suffer his whole life as a punishment.

Joel was working on a wood carving when he heard a loud knock on his front door. He put his glasses down on the workbench and wiped his hands on his jeans as he went downstairs. When he opened the door, he gave his brother a smile but it vanished as soon as he noticed the look on his face. “Joel, hey… can I talk to you?” Tommy asked, avoiding his brother’s gaze. “Is Ellie ok?” Joel questioned urgently, worry loud in his eyes and voice. “Yeah, yeah, don’t worry, Ellie’s fine.” “What is it, then?” "Can I?" Tommy nodded at the inside of the house and Joel stepped aside to let him in. His brother went to the living room, sat down on the sofa and pressed his hands against each other out of nervousness. 

"You huh… you should sit down, maybe,” Tommy said, looking straight at Joel for the first time since he opened the door to him. Joel was about to tell him to stop with that bullshit, to tell him right there, what was going on, but Tommy's look silenced him. The one of someone who didn't know how to say what he had to say. 

Like an augury tingling in his chest, your image appeared in Joel’s mind, but he brushed it aside. No. 

He couldn't hammer another nail into his heart, into that part of him that never lost hope despite all the spikes planted in it, years after years. He couldn't possibly think that Tommy was gonna tell him he'd heard from you, letting hope nestle into its tiny place, like a flame that had never gone out despite the darkness surrounding it in Joel's heart. 

Just to end up being heartbroken once again.

Even if Tommy's expression made it seem like he'd seen a ghost.

Time stopped, and Joel felt as if everything was moving in slow motion. He was afraid of what his brother was going to say, afraid that his stupid, endless hope would shatter into a hundred pieces, for the thousandth time, millionth time, like a glass after it fell to the ground. So Joel sat down on the couch, unable to look at Tommy anymore. 

“What is it?” he murmured finally, gaze fixed on the floor. His hands started to shake and he clenched his fists to stop their trembling, waiting for Tommy to speak. Joel thought he would wait all night if necessary, not rushing him, not forcing him to say what he needed to say, until he'd be able to tell him.  Because hope was already settling in, cozying itself in his heart’s deepest corner, and he was afraid that it’d vanish as soon as his brother talked.

Tommy cleared his throat then said something, his voice so low that Joel wasn't sure if he heard him correctly. A million thoughts swirling in his mind. 

Did he imagine it, or did he really hear your name?

Once again, he pushed the thought away, banished the hope he woke up with every morning, throughout all his years of wandering. Or maybe… Maybe a patrol found your body and brought it back to Jackson, brought it back to Tommy, like it would happen sometimes. The idea made him sick. 

Or maybe you joined Jackson on your own? 

His thoughts were racing, blood pulsating in his ears, and his heart no longer knew which rhythm to beat. Joel placed his hand on his chest, trying to calm it down.

"She’s here, Joel. She’s in Jackson,” Tommy said carefully, his concerned eyes fixed on his brother.

His words sent a shiver through Joel’s body and he was barely able to articulate a weak “what?” “She’s at the clinic right now, they're checking her,” Tommy added. “What… How… How is it possible?”

“There are new refugees all the time, Joel. They hear about Jackson, and they come,” he said softly. “You know it, we improve this place every day to offer them a decent home.”

“Yeah… Yeah, you’re right,” he answered, eyebrows furrowed, unable to really process what was happening. “Is she hurt?” He noticed the way Tommy's eyes flicked away for half a second, before he responded. 

"She’s alright. Weak and hungry, but she’s okay." "Don't fucking lie to me," Joel growled, his glare darker than ever. It reminded Tommy of the Joel he never wanted to see again. The one that had kept them alive, for sure, but who was barely human. Just a cold and angry man. Ruthless. "Shit. You're such a damn hound. She’s… she’s not in good shape. She was probably living outside for a long time. She’s dehydrated, weak, got some bruises-” He stopped talking when Joel stood up hastily, towering over Tommy before heading to the front door.

“NO! No, Joel. Calm down, stay right here and listen to me for fucks sake!" he said firmly, making Joel stop at the door and take a deep breath. "She's at the clinic, they're taking care of her, ok? Calm down." Joel felt his legs give way beneath him, and came back to the sofa to sit down, head in his hands. “Ok… ok. Did she see you? Did you talk?” “Yeah. I was there when they brought her and a man. I thought she was going to pass out when she saw me, you know… kind of like you right now, damn it!” Tommy got up to pour two glasses of whiskey and gave one to Joel, who downed it in one go. 

“Easy, Joel… I can't imagine the thoughts in your head right now.”

But his brother wasn't listening. Couldn't listen. “Did she ask about me?” “Of course. She knows you’re here, and it was quite a shock.” Tommy looked at his brother again, hesitating, then added in a low voice, “she asked about Sarah. I… I didn’t wanna tell her. Not then, and it’s not my place,” he said before his voice broke and tears started to blur his eyes. “But she understood. She looked at me, and she just knew. Her face… my God, her face, Joel, her pain… I barely had time to catch her before she fell to the ground.” “That’s enough,” Joel spat, his lips pressed in a thin line. It was all too much, and he couldn’t bear the idea that you were alone at the clinic. “Joel…” “I said enough! I gotta see her, I can’t leave her alone there. She must feel lost, she's probably afraid,” he added, his voice so cold and sharp that at first it stopped Tommy. But he couldn’t let Joel go there, not now, not when he was overwhelmed by his emotions. “No, Joel! You can't just show up like that, she's not in the right condition. Not physically, not mentally. So you’re gonna wait until tomorrow and then you'll ask the doctors if you can see her. And if they tell you you can't for whatever reason, you leave. Promise me, Joel. Otherwise, I swear I'll post two guards there and tell them to shoot you in the knee if they see your goddamn face. You can't show up like that, she needs to rest so if she sleeps for three fucking days or more, you wait! Now, you promise me!” Tommy’s words left Joel speechless for a few seconds, but soon he realized his brother was right, he had to do what was best for you. 

“I promise,” he sighed, but met Tommy’s stare. “I said I promise, Jesus Christ. I’ll see her in the morning if they allow me. God, I can't believe she's here.”

“I know… I know, Joel…” Tommy said, squeezing his shoulder, looking at Joel whose gaze was lost in another place or another time.

Once his brother left, Joel sat down at the dining room table and looked at his watch. He was terrified to face the past and learn what happened to you, and couldn't fully realize that you were here, in Jackson. That you were so close.

He did not sleep that night.

“She was almost in a state of shock when they brought her last night. We haven't been able to give her a full exam yet. She asked if you were really here in Jackson, and of course we confirmed it. The nurse said she mentioned another name, Sarah, and cried."

Joel was trying to cope with the information and with his heart suddenly racing way too fast when he heard his daughter's name from a doctor who didn't know her or what she meant neither to him nor to you.

"She woke up several times during the night, and asked for you. We told her you'd come today. We had to give her some tranquilizers because she needed to sleep but was too agitated.”

"Is she hurt?" Joel repeated the question he had asked his brother the day before, trying to put aside his emotions after hearing that you had inquired about him, that you needed him. Meanwhile anxiety was whispering to him in its sly voice that once you knew what kind of man he had become, you would no longer want anything to do with him.

"From what we could see, physically she has some bruises, some fresh and some not. We stitched her lip up and bandaged her wrist. It looks like just a sprain, but today we'll make sure it's not fractured, with other exams she has to undergo."

 He paused for a moment, looking at Joel carefully, then added, "mentally… It's hard to say until we know more about what happened to her. She's been living in the wild for a while, that's for sure. She was starved and dehydrated, very weak, so we put her on an IV drip. She's going to need time and support. You can go see her but don't wake her up, let the meds work. Tommy told me that you had known each other before the outbreak and that you hadn’t seen each other since?” “Yeah, that's right." "Okay, so it’s a shock for you as well. If you need help with it, come see us, okay?" Joel agreed, even if he'd probably deal with it in his own way. 

"There was a man with her, dehydrated and starving as well. I'm gonna check on him right now. Wait for her to wake up and then go easy.” "Of course," Joel replied, then walked down the corridor, his gaze fixed on the third door on the right. The room where the doctor said you were. He couldn't believe you were so close, more than twenty years after being apart, after he lost you. He didn't know how he would react, he was afraid that the smallest scratch on your body would shatter the sanity he had left since the night before.

Joel paused when he reached the half-open door, his trembling fingers frozen in midair before he grasped the handle and pushed it open. Taking a deep breath, he stepped inside, forcing himself to move slowly, gradually taking in the room and the sunbeams on the foot of your bed. His gaze followed the curve of the blanket from there, your feet and your legs, your arms along your body, the IV, as he was taking long and deep breaths, trying to calm his heartbeat. 

But when his eyes set on your head, he had to fight back the sobs that threatened to burst out of his throat at the sight of your gaunt face, your hollow features and your stitched lip. Your brows were furrowed and twitching in your sleep. He wondered what you had been through, what your life had been all these years and his throat tightened painfully. 

Flashes of you in Austin, happy and smiling, appeared in his mind.

He remembered when you used to go to the lake, his hand on your thigh while he was driving there.

He remembered you in his arms, in bed. The way he could feel your heartbeat fasten when he laid his hand on your chest, the way you used to bite your lip before kissing him. The way you looked at him. 

His memory went blurry as your soft expression faded in his mind, turning into a determined one, a will for survival plastered on it, then morphed into a scared one.

The visions made him clench his fists. He couldn't bear the thought of not having been there for you, there to protect you, as he should have been.

Scared to wake you up, Joel resisted the urge to take your hand that wasn’t wounded in his, and only  sat in the armchair beside your bed, watching your face and your worried features, your chest rising and falling. His eyes mentally photographed every scratch, every wound. 

He thought about the last time he had seen you at the airport. The smile you gave him when he told you it was just for a few days, that you'd be back soon, trying to cheer you up because he knew how disappointed you were to not be there for his birthday. The “I love you” you mouthed to him, before heading to your flight. He immediately started missing you. 

Joel pushed back the thought of what had happened after, instead he focused on your face, and his gaze softened, as he was slowly realizing you were truly here, bruised for sure but alive. He had never lost hope and for the first time in many years he felt grateful and relieved.

And then you said his name in your sleep. A soft “Joel” escaped your lips, and without a second thought he murmured “I'm here” back and took your hand in his. Your features softened instantly, and he stayed still, amazed, holding your hand in his, his warmth gradually enveloping you, your heartbeat resonating from your wrist to the tips of his fingers. Joel was watching you, not tearing his eyes off, until he drifted off without realizing it because he hadn't been able to get a second of sleep the night before, anxiously waiting for the morning to finally visit you. His free hand slid off the bed and hung by the side of the armchair.

You woke up to the sound of birds, confused, trying to remember why you were on a bed, a real bed, in what seemed to be a hospital bedroom. And why you were overtaken by a feeling so familiar and comforting and had been lost for such a long time, that you were unable to put a finger on it. 

Until you felt him, his presence, his hand on yours. 

Joel.

That feeling was stronger than everything else, a certainty filling your entire being, without laying your eyes on him. It was the warmest sensation you had felt in two decades, before your brain went blank, heart beating so fast that you were afraid it could explode. You stared at the ceiling, needing some time before turning your head to check if Joel was really there or if you imagined it like so many times before.

You heard him straighten up and felt his eyes on you, as if they were a magnet you couldn’t resist. You turned your head to his side, and your heart felt like it stopped when your eyes met. A weak “fuck” escaped your lips, your hand leaving his to clutch at your shirt, just above your heart. Quickly staring back at the ceiling again, everything became blurry and you were afraid your body or your soul would dive into the mattress, scared that you were going to pass out. “Christ, sweetheart,” he said as he got up, his voice, his drawl, unmistakable, even decades later. Joel. Joel was beside you and you were overwhelmed by a torrent of emotions that you were struggling to deal with.

You raised your hand, urging him to wait a second, catching your breath and processing what was happening.

Joel stopped mid-stride, slowly lowering his hands, desperately helpless as he watched you try to manage your emotions alone. 

For a moment, he forgot the decades that kept you apart, acting on instinct, thinking that if you needed comfort you’d naturally turn to him. 

As he instinctively, immediately, went into protective mode with you. 

Thinking you’d throw yourself in his arms, seek comfort in his embrace to let go of all your fears and cries and the years that passed apart from him.

But you didn’t.

Letting aside the anxiety already trying to drown him, Joel relied on his rational side as best as he could, acknowledging that you might have to handle things differently, and need time to process your emotions. 

He turned to the bedside table and poured some water in a glass for you but stopped when he heard your quiet “Joel?”, your eyes filled with tears fixed on him. The sight of the drip needle in your bluish hand broke his heart, then threatened to fill it with anger against the whole world, but he managed to stop his dark thoughts, realizing it wasn’t what you needed.

“Joel, are you really… is it real?” you sobbed, your shaking hands finally raised towards him, pleading for his touch. He sat hastily on the bed, and you finally wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his neck.

“It's real, I'm here,” he said, and you let your tears flow as he roamed your back softly, cuddling you, whispering “I got you.”

And you broke down. 

Your tears quickly turned into sobs, the ones you  couldn’t hold back when it was too much, as loud as the ones you had let out on your first night in the QZ. But this crying in the clinic’s room was different. Full of joy at finding his arms again, and of pain at everything that had been lost.

Twenty years later, Joel and you were finally reunited. 

Still crying, you let go of his shoulders and curled up against him, your fists pressed against his chest, indifferent to the drip that was pulling on your vein, as if you wanted to melt into him, into everything he was and that you had desperately missed all these years.

He was rocking you slowly, gently, his large hand resting on the back of your head, lulling you with soft and comforting words.

“You’re gonna be ok now”

“You’re safe”

“We’re gonna help you get better”

“No one will ever hurt you again”

“I got you”

I got you.

He repeated those three words several times, finally finding what he'd been chasing for so many years. What kept him going, making him more stubborn and persistent day after day, never losing hope as time went on. Now he could feel your body letting go, the tension slowly escaping second by second, and it was the best sensation he had felt for so long. His reward of not letting you go. Despite everything that had happened, all the losses and heartbreaks, this moment he’d dreamed of so many times before finally came.

As you felt Joel’s reassuring touch, you slipped your arms under his and wrapped them around his waist, snuggling close to him, as close as you could, letting him embrace you, surround you with his warmth. 

And you felt safe, hearing his low voice again, nestled against him. Safer than you'd been in those two decades, your shoulders relaxing, the tension in your body gradually dissipating.

Both of you lost track of time, your nose pressed against his plaid shirt, tears rolling down your face continuously, until they slowed down then stopped, once you had no more tears to cry.

“I’m sorry about your shirt, Joel,” you sniffled.

“I don’t care about my shirt, sweetheart,” he chuckled, his voice so soft you were afraid to start crying again, his hand still cradling the back of your neck, keeping you against his chest.

“I’m afraid if I pull away, you’ll disappear,” you murmured.

“I won’t, I promise. I’m right here.” 

You tightened your arms around his waist, resting your cheek against his bicep. You weren’t sure what to say to him after all this time, words seemed meaningless in that moment. 

You looked outside, through the window. Everything was so quiet, but not the kind that used to make you wonder if something dangerous was hiding behind a tree, when you were outside. If someone or something was waiting to kill you. 

This time, it seemed to be just a real, peaceful life.

Until you suddenly thought of Tommy. You had arrived here the day before when the doors of Jackson opened. The shock it had been to see him. 

And it struck you, Sarah's face appeared in your mind, her radiant smile gradually blurred until it vanished as if it were made of smoke, and you gasped.

The effect of the medication probably made you forget what you had learnt the day before, the pain on his face when you had said his niece's name. Made you forget that she was gone. Tommy didn’t say anything, he didn’t have to. 

So many times, you tried to imagine her face over the years. How she would look, at 16 years old, 20, 30. You didn't even know when she died. When you whispered "when? How?" Tommy shook his head, unable to answer.

You pulled away from Joel, your hands clasped tightly on his forearms.

“Tommy told me about Sarah. Well, not really, but…” you said, your voice breaking up. “ I’m sorry, Joel. I’m so sorry. I wish I could…”

His face changed, its indecipherable expression left you confused. A mix of harshness, repressed sorrow, and guilt. Then his features softened.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” Joel said, cupping your cheeks in his hands. “What’s important is that you’re here. Safe, okay?”

“But-”

“Please,” he begged. “I finally found you. We’ll talk about everything later, okay?”

“Okay,” you replied. 

“I found you,” he said, then smiled, his dimples popping on his cheeks. “Well, you found me.” You tried to smile, too, but you couldn’t stop thinking about Sarah, making your heart bleed.

He probably felt it and took you in his arms again. The time would come when you could talk about what had happened to both of you, but right now he couldn’t deal with it, talk to you about Sarah, and probably disappoint you. He couldn’t handle saying her name for now, couldn’t see you cry over the loss. 

A knock at the door interrupted you and the doctor came in, asking how you were going, nodding when you said you were ok.

“Your friend’s good, too, I checked on him this morning. A few bruises, and he’s suffering from dehydration, but nothing serious. Now we’re going to run some tests, okay?”

Your “friend.”

You hadn't thought about Eric once since you’d woken up, and you brushed aside the questions that would inevitably arise. But not now.

You looked at Joel, not ready to leave him. You were afraid to lose him again, to lose his reassuring presence, the way he was able to make you feel like everything was gonna be fine now. He exchanged a glance with the doctor, then agreed with him, “they need to check on you, okay? Take care of you. I’ll come back in the afternoon,” he said, nodding to you as a reassurance. He stood up and kissed your forehead.

“I’m so happy and relieved to have you back. That you’re here, in Jackson, safe”, he murmured. “Let the doctors get you back in shape,” he added, standing up, and smiled at you.

You nodded and smiled back, keeping your eyes on him until he left the room, doing your best to swallow the tears that were threatening to come again.

When you woke up in the afternoon after they had run their tests leaving you exhausted, Joel had kept his word and was in your room, sitting in the armchair turned towards your bed. He straightened up when you woke up, murmuring a soft “hey.”

“Hey,” you returned back, trying to straighten up as well, but the pain in your body made you wince.

“Woah woah, it’s ok, don’t push it. You must be tired and sore.”

“Yeah,” you answered weakly. You felt dizzy. You had so many questions to ask, but you wanted to respect Joel’s wish for a more appropriate time, so you talked about something more neutral, Jackson. You didn’t see a lot of it, but you were already amazed. The place had a clinic, it was highly protected. It felt surreal. 

“So.. this is really a community? A whole town?”

“Yeah. Being run by Maria- Tommy’s wife, and him. They’re doing a great job.”

“It’s… it’s really amazing. We heard about it, but to be honest, I didn't really think it was possible. And I certainly didn’t expect something that big!”

“Yeah, a lot of refugees hear about it and join us. We’re working hard to make the place better, day after day. Where did you hear about it?”

“At the QZ,” you answered, and saw him frown.

“Which QZ?”

“Boston. I stayed there for several years. Got sent there a few days after… it happened, and… what?” you asked, when you saw his eyes widening. 

“Boston?! I don’t understand,” Joel replied, eyebrows furrowed. “I went to the Boston QZ… I checked the arrival records, your name wasn’t there.”

It left you confused. Joel was there, at the QZ? Why didn’t you see him? Why didn’t you find each other?

“When were you there? I don’t understand either… All those years and I didn’t see you? I don’t understand,” you repeated, tears threatening to run down your cheeks again at the thought that you could have met sooner.

“I thought I could find you there, so Tommy and I left Austin right after the Outbreak day, but it took us so many years to reach it... And you weren’t there.”

“They checked me in… Put my name on the list, I don’t- Oh my god!”

“What?”

“I… I registered under your name… I said my name was Miller, I…” You couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. You’ve been so stupid to put a different name.

“You gave them my last name?” he said, his eyes so soft that you melted. He leaned towards you and wiped the tears from your face softly with his thumbs. 

“Yeah, I… you were my family. So was Sarah and Tommy, and… I don’t know, it just felt so natural and I wanted to keep that connection. I didn’t know if you were alive, what happened to you… It felt like the right thing to do, but it was so stupid.”

“Hey,” he said, leaving the armchair to sit on the bed, and took your hand in his. “It wasn’t stupid. And I guess you already left the QZ when I got there, so it wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“But you could have known I was there!”

“No, stop torturing yourself,” he said softly, his big brown eyes fixed in yours. “Even if I knew, I wouldn’t have known where to find you, right? And I would have been even more worried to know you were outside.”

“Yeah, but you would have known I was alive, or at least that I was at some point and joined the QZ…”

“Sweetheart, quit it,” he cooed, and the nickname made you sob. His worried yet soft eyes were as comforting as they were before. Calming you down. Joel was here, facing you. Maybe you made a mistake, but being by his side was all that mattered now.

“I can’t believe I found you,” you breathed, seizing his hands in yours. You dreamed about it so many times, and finally he was here, with you.

“You did,” he smiled, and hugged you. You cuddled against him, letting him rock you. He was your happy place, your comfort, twenty years ago, and the fact that he was still now, making you feel safe again, in this world, was overwhelming.

“Ok, I’m gonna let you rest now. I’ll come back tomorrow morning, ok?” Uncertainty seized him when he noticed the way you were looking at him, as if you weren’t ready to let him go, as if you wanted to tell him something.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Don’t leave me,” you breathed. “Please, stay with me.”

Joel masterlist

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