lily ♡

‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡📷

♡ bisexual , uk , nineteen years old this is my only blog, where i will be writing and sharing my own stories based around either the last of us (hbo + game version) or any of the cast's characters in any other films/tv shows!] i also post on AO3 and wattpad under @sunkiss3dlily ! ୨୧ my inbox is open 24/7 to questions or whatever you want to say, but look below for request statuses as well as master lists to navigate you to my works !!

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♡ requests:

OPEN / CLOSED

( my only rules for requests are that you are respectful, patient, and understanding if i do not wish to write your request. i will write for almost anything, but if it is something that makes me uncomfortable, i will politely decline. that being said, please don't be afraid to send requests; i am more than happy to consider them! and please give details so i know what you want!! )

✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚

( ALL WORKS ARE MY OWN ! )

♡ master lists:

ELLIE WILLIAMS !

ABBY ANDERSON !

JOEL MILLER !

TESS SERVOPOULOS !

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader Word Count: 5916

Summary: Time is running out for you in the fight against David. Joel comes to your rescue.

Note(s): Okay, so now it's become five parts. I should just never set a goal for how many chapters I'm writing because I always exceed it hahahaha but at least Joel and reader are reunited!! I'm not gonna lie this took so long to write because I hated writing for David. He is so creepy and I felt so gross. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed, and I promise this time, the next chapter will be the last haha! Thank you for all the love I'm so grateful! And as always feedback is appreciated, but please be respectful! Please give me any (detailed, please!) requests in my inbox or comments if you have any, I would love to hear them! Thank you so much for reading! ♡

Taglist: @wonwoosthetic @paleidiot @orcasoul @slut4mascss @paqerings @missladym1981 @oscarisaac2099 @stilllivindue2spite @aspecialgreenie @amyispxnk @caitlynsixxx

✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚,

The bitter cold stole your every sense of direction in the relentless blizzard, pushing you to stumble aimlessly through the thick snow, much like you had the day before, only this time you were no longer the hunter but the prey.

All around, the storm howled, and your every step was one of desperation in the search for any sign of David and James' group.

"Stay alert, everybody; if this man's not already dead, he's dangerous." David's voice calling out from the other end of the street had you bolting to hide behind a fence, your rifle clutched steadily in your hand. "And the woman too; she can’t be fully trusted, either."

Clutching your rifle, you took a shaky breath, straining your hearing to catch the next set of orders.

“What about the little girl?” James' voice cut through the harsh wind, and a surge of protectiveness swelled within you at the mention of Ellie. You silently vowed not to let any of them get near her—not one step.

“We bring her back with us." David responds. "Her, and the woman.”

"Try it, motherfucker," you muttered, biding your time as they started advancing down your end of the street, where you remained safely hidden, at least for the moment. There was no need to risk wasting bullets and missing a shot; you had to be smart about this.

A loud scoff cuts through the air, and a voice that you haven't heard before rings out: "That woman will kill us all in our goddamn sleep if we let her stay with us."

"Yeah, I agree," James cuts in soon after. "I don't mean to question your sense of mercy, David, but we can kill the man and the woman and just let the little girl go. If we bring that little girl back with us, she's just another mouth to feed."

You peek out, taking your aim and squeezing one eye shut.

"If we leave either of them out here, they'll die," David chastises, still seemingly set on having you and Ellie come back with him.

As if you'd let that happen.

James scoffed, and as the group approached, you could now count their numbers.

Five.

You watched as James bitterly shook his head, and almost instinctively, you raised your rifle, focusing on the moving target. "Maybe that's God's will."

David's head snapped to look at his taller friend, but before he could speak, your first shot rang out.

James practically folded in on himself, the bullet finding its mark right between his eyes. Genuine shock registered on David's face before a darker expression replaced it just as swiftly. The other four members of the group looked around in utter bewilderment, raising their weapons and expressing a mix of fear, anger, and shock.

"Holy shit!"

"What the fuck do we do, David?!"

"They killed James!"

Too preoccupied reloading your rifle, you didn't notice David's eyes settling on the neck of your gun, which was slightly peeking out from behind the fence.

"Split up. Find the house they're staying in and get that little girl back to me alive. I'll take care of the woman."

As the three scatter in different directions, you finally look up, and that's when you notice David approaching the fence, his own gun at the ready, aimed and dangerous.

You feel it before you hear it—the burning sensation as the bullet rips through your coat and shirt, sinking into the skin of your shoulder. The sickening whoosh of the bullet through the air is only heard after. Had your senses been more in tune, perhaps you would have dodged it. Instead, a muffled cry of pain escapes your lips as you slam them together, forcing yourself into a standing yet crouched position. Running along the back of the fence, you do your best to ignore both the pain and the sensation of your blood coating your fingers, compressing the wound as you move, the rifle held limply in the hand of your injured arm.

"Get back here!"

Your legs turn to jelly as you sprint through the snow, heading straight for one of the houses. Despite the intensifying pain in your shoulder, you strive to keep your cool. Bullets whiz dangerously close to your tattered boots, narrowly missing as you move just a fraction too quickly for David's shooting ability.

“It doesn’t have to be this hard!”

Gasping for breath, you reach cover at the side of a nearby house, pressing your back against the cold exterior. The bitter wind bites at your exposed skin as you take a moment to assess the wound on your shoulder, your fingers coming away stained with blood. You reach back, whimpering to yourself as you feel the unmistakable hole in your shirt and coat, realising that, for one small mercy, the bullet has gone straight through.

"I didn't want to hurt you." David's voice echoes chillingly close, urging you to retreat to the back of the house. As you hastily assess for an entry point, he adds with a sinister tone, "You forced my hand."

Despite the searing pain in your shoulder and the fear gnawing at your senses, a twisted sense of relief settles in as you reach the back of the house. The knowledge that it's you who David is pursuing, and not Joel or Ellie, somehow grants you a twisted comfort.

“There’s no need to keep fighting me like this. It’s pointless.”

With trembling hands, you fumble to open the door, your mind racing faster than your jittery heartbeat.

The wooden door creaks open, revealing the dim interior of the house. Staggering under the weight of pain and panic, you stumble inside, the world spinning as you navigate the all-too-familiar surroundings from when you were desperately searching for any first aid for Joel the day prior, so you already know there is nothing here that is going to help you. The urgency of your situation intensifies, and you quickly slam the door behind you closed.

The house offers a brief respite from the relentless blizzard and the immediate threat of David's pursuit. As you move deeper into the residence, your unsteady footsteps echo against the worn floorboards. The muted sounds of the storm outside contrast with the thunderous beating of your heart.

A narrow staircase comes into view, and with each step, your legs feel heavier, like lead. The ascent is a gruelling task, with your battered body protesting with every movement. As you reach the top, you catch your breath, realising the vulnerability of your situation. You're wounded and isolated, and you're at the mercy of your surroundings and David.

Summoning the last reserves of your strength, you push forward, weaving through the upper floor. The pain in your shoulder becomes an unbearable companion, gnawing at your resolve, and your vision blurs. A distant bedroom beckons, and you stumble towards it, guided more by instinct than conscious thought.

With each step, the world becomes more of a blurry haze. You push the bedroom door open with a light swing, revealing your final refuge from the chaos. Collapsing against the far wall, behind a double bed, you sink to the floor, your breaths ragged and laboured. The room spins around you as you succumb to the exhaustion, your body finally finding a momentary sanctuary amid the turmoil.

✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚,

The unmistakable echo of a gunshot reached Joel's ears, shattering the relative silence of the basement and snapping him out of the uneasy rest he had slipped into.

It felt like just moments ago that he had watched you leave, resolute in facing danger to protect him and Ellie. The mental image of you willingly sacrificing yourself for their safety wound around his heart like barbed wire, each beat accentuating his feelings of pain and helplessness. Staring at the closed door, he had been consumed by profound desperation, silently yearning for you to turn around and come back to them, to him. But, as the seconds ticked away, it became clear you weren't coming back.

Ellie's eyes had met his, her dark pools of pleading tears watching him as the weight of sleep threatened to pull him under.

"Joel! Wake the fuck up! We have to go!"

Suddenly, Ellie was gripping his shirt, the surge of adrenaline from the shock of it all combatting the heaviness of his slumber. The gunshot's resonance wasn't just a haunting echo of his nightmares about Sarah; it was the stark reality now centred around you. Whether you were the shooter or the one being shot at, Joel couldn't allow himself to stand, or rather lay, by while you faced danger, even in his weakened state.

"Joel!" Ellie repeated, shaking him just as furiously as before. "Fuck, wait a second."

She disappeared from his sight for a moment, peripherals included, and for some twisted reason inside of him, the thought of her leaving too made him even more scared. He couldn't lose both of you.

"Ellie," he called hoarsely.

She was back within a few moments, seemingly fueled by the sound of his voice as she kneeled beside him, syringe and medicine bottle in hand. "Yeah, I'm here. Just give me a minute. I've never done this before."

He held still, barely breathing as the needle pricked his wound once more, not wanting to freak the kid out any more than she already was.

"Ellie," he repeated. Her eyes fell to his as she continued to plunge the syringe slowly, just as she had watched you do so many times. Her dark eyes were still watery and held so much fear that she attempted to hide with her otherwise stoic expression, barring the slight trembling of her lips. "It's...it's gonna be okay."

"Yeah," she nodded, though her gaze fell away from him as if she didn't believe him. "I know."

Silence settled between them, a void that you typically filled. As Ellie withdrew the syringe, returning it along with the medicine to her bag, the echo of a second gunshot pierced the air, prompting them to exchange uneasy glances.

The heavy footsteps from above spurred Joel into action, breaking the inertia that had held him for days. He staggered to his feet, his unsteady legs protesting disuse, and gently guided Ellie into the corner beneath the stairs. Pressing his rifle into her hands, he saw the horror in her eyes. A shake of his head preceded his retrieval of her knife from the bag.

"If anything goes wrong, you shoot and run, alright?" Her mouth opened, but he silenced any objections, his tone unwavering. "No. No questions, no smart remarks. You run."

Joel's voice carried a resolute authority, his eyes revealing a blend of concern and determination. Ellie nodded, her grip tightening on the rifle as she comprehended the gravity of the situation.

The clamour above intensified, muffled voices now accompanied by the crash of furniture in front of the basement door. 

Time seemed to stretch as they waited, breaths suspended in anticipation. As the footsteps finally seemed to reach the top of the stairs and the door opened, Joel whispered one final directive, his voice barely audible. 

"Face the wall."

✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚,

A tender touch, brushing hair away from your forehead, coaxes you back to awareness. Initially feeling numb, the haze lifts as you blink away blurriness, and the searing pain in your wound snaps into focus. A cry escapes your lips, and instinctively, you reach to cover the injury, as if the pressure could quell the pain. Surprisingly, a make-shift bandage is wrapped around the bare skin of your shoulder, and as you withdraw your hand, you find no fresh blood, only the remnants of dried staining from before.

A fleeting sense of relief washes over you when you suddenly realise someone is taking care of you; you've been saved.

"You were lucky; I'll give you that."

Anticipating Joel's deep, somewhat soothing tone, the sudden and chilling sound of David's higher voice jolted you. Startled, you looked up and blinked rapidly, only to find the devil himself kneeling in front of you, his hand resting on your cheek.

"Getting the jump on us like that. It was smart." He chuckled slightly, unsettling you further, prompting an instinctive flex of your fingers to search for your rifle. It must have been moved, and you think you can see the handle just behind him on the bed. The sheet on top of the mattress appears to be torn, evidently being what was used to conceal your wound. "I won't say it'll earn you many brownie points with the folks back home, but I understand. I understand why you did it."

You draw in a shaky breath, attempting to breathe through the pain and panic, while desperately searching your mind for any semblance of a plan.

David withdraws his hand from your cheek, replacing it with two fingers on your neck's pulse point, holding them there for a moment. "You know, I was worried you weren't going to wake up at all."

You make your best attempt to shrug him off, disliking the sensation of his cold fingertips on your skin. Despite your weakness, you glare up at him and retort, "You should be more worried than I was."

He smiles with a glint of amusement in his eyes, and you despise the gut-wrenching feeling of vulnerability blooming in your chest at the notion of being stuck in this man's presence. A chuckle escapes him, and he sucks his teeth before raising his hand, causing your head to snap to the side as the back of his hand connects with your cheek, a ring on his finger slashing your cheek upon impact.

Stunned to silence, you manage only a few heavy breaths as blood dribbles down your cheek. Eventually, you compose yourself enough to meet his gaze once more.

David releases a heavy sigh, observing you with a gaze that combines pity and satisfaction as he sits back on his knees.

“I like you. I do."

You glare back at him, biting back a snide comment.

He smiles, releasing a soft chuckle. “You’re so much different from the women back in my village. They’re so docile, complacent, and scared of their own shadows. You, on the other hand, are feral. Violent. A murderer.”

You swallow uncomfortably, unsettled by the excited glint in his eyes as he gazes at you.

“I like that. It’s realistic. A woman who does what she has to do to get what she wants. It’s the only way to survive, right?” David smiles, reaching out to clasp your limp hand that sits on your lap. “We’re very similar in that way. We do what we have to do to provide for the people who rely on us. No matter what, right?”

You fight the urge to snap his fingers in your palm, feeling his thumb stroking roughly over your skin, a poor imitation of Joel's comforting touch from only hours ago.

“You see, I’m not your enemy here.” He whispers in an attempt at a soothing tone. “I never have been. In fact, I am your equal, and in being that, I believe you would make the perfect addition to stand by my side in leading our people through the darkness that this winter has brought.”

You shake your head, but he raises a hand and emits a shushing noise.

“I know. It’s a hard concept to grasp when you’re in this fight-or-flight headspace. I’m sure you feel you won’t be accepted by them for all your sins and for all the heartache you’ve brought to our community, but they, as well as you, will come to understand, in good time, that reformation is indeed possible.” He squeezes your hand tight—so tight that it becomes uncomfortable very quickly. You breathe your way through the pain. “And if you can’t, then you can provide for our community in another way.” He lifts his other hand to lift your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. “My people are hungry, you see. I wouldn’t be a good leader if I didn't do what I needed to provide for them, despite sacrificing what would be the closest thing I have to my equal. You understand the necessity of that, right?”

A sickening feeling churns in your stomach. Whatever he has in mind for you is likely nothing you want to endure. You bite your tongue, resolved to maintain composure and conceal your fear.

“And then, I suppose, your daughter will be the one to take your place beside me.”

Your entire body tenses, and he seems to notice the fire blazing in your eyes at the mention of Ellie, a light smirk settling on his lips.

Quick to wipe it off, you wrap your palm around his middle finger and tug it back with all the strength you can muster, causing a sickening crack as it breaks, ricocheting around you. He lets out an anguished cry of pain, filling you with relentless satisfaction. As he releases your hand entirely, you shove him backward and use the wall to guide you to your feet.

Rushing for your rifle, your movements are short-lived as you feel his hand wrap around your ankle, grabbing hold of you. Swinging your arm around to hit him, he tugs you forcefully via your arm, causing you to flop face down on the floor beside him.

Releasing angry pants, he flips you over onto your back and uses his free hand to press down on your wound, keeping you down and eliciting a cry of unbearable pain from your lips.

“There it is. There’s that fight in you I like so much.”

You spit at him, aiming directly for his face, and raise your knee to strike him in the crotch. He releases your wound, and you take a sharp intake of breath, readying your hand to deliver a strike to his face. But he's too quick, grabbing your wrist and yanking it hard, exerting so much force that you feel your arm being ripped out of its socket.

A blinding wave of pain overwhelms you, bringing all your struggles to an instant halt. Your pain threshold has been entirely depleted. You're done fighting. It's all too much.

He clears his throat as he shifts to hold himself above you, his gaze a mix of satisfaction and disappointment as he looks down at you.

“Is that all you’ve got in you?” He laughed breathlessly. “I’m disappointed. Underneath all that strong facade, you’re just the same as every other woman. Weak. I should’ve known you’d end up just the same: under my mercy."

Your strength waned, unable to conceal the overwhelming fear as his weight bore down on you, and instead, you opened your mouth, releasing a gut-wrenching scream.

✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚,

It was guttural—the scream that tore through the streets—and it sent a shiver down Joel's spine. Ellie was huddled at his side, his arm protectively encircling her, marking the first substantial contact between them. The moment he tensed, he felt her reaction mirror his own.

Joel held tight to Callus' reins in his other hand. Although logic dictated that he and Ellie should be riding towards your safety, the events in the basement lingered in Joel's mind. Forcing two out of three men to reveal your whereabouts, even with Ellie upstairs and out of direct earshot, it had been a traumatic ordeal for the both of them. Joel couldn't deny Ellie the comfort of being close to him after such a harrowing experience. Contrary to his initial fears, it became evident that Ellie wasn't terrified of him; in fact, the very opposite seemed true.

'"That's her," Ellie said through chattering teeth as the biting winds whipped around them. "We have to help her."

Joel nodded, his gaze firm and determined, tugging Callus along once more. "We will. We'll get to her."

Once again, your scream, fraught with fear and desperation, reverberated through the desolate streets. The chilling sound momentarily froze time, leaving Joel feeling utterly helpless about where to go or how to reach you. The haunting silence that followed became almost unbearable, casting an oppressive weight on Joel's chest, which he tried to ignore with every stride he took, Ellie in tow.

Abruptly, just as it had ceased, your screaming resumed, and Joel couldn't summon the strength to look down, yet he could feel Ellie's tears soaking his shirt. Each agonising note sliced through the air, and this time, it seemed to pierce Joel even more deeply than before. The raw, visceral sound of your distress clawed at his heart, dismantling any remaining walls that held back his emotions towards you. He despised that sound—the sound of you in pain, the sound of you scared, the sound of you broken—and silently vowed to do whatever it took to never hear it again.

However, amidst the torment, there existed a perverse sense of gratitude. Your screams served as a guiding force, leading Joel, Ellie, and Callus through the relentless blizzard in pursuit of you. A steely resolve tightened Joel's jaw, determination etched across his weathered face as you fell silent once more, only to start screaming again seconds later. The idea of you enduring suffering was unbearable, and an urgency to reach you surged through Joel's veins, propelling their movements forward through the biting cold.

Reaching the front of the house from which your screams echoed, Joel gently pulled away from Ellie's trembling frame. He tried to ignore the way she instinctively sought to move closer, holding her by the shoulders. "I need you to listen to me, Ellie."

Her face was pale, tear-stricken, and concerned, lacking the strength to argue. She nodded in response.

"I need you to ride Callus to the furthest house away, to the very last one in this neighbourhood, okay? Not one sooner. The very last one."

Her lips parted, wobbling, but your scream from above tore every word from the tip of her tongue. She made her way to Callus, placing one foot in the stirrup before Joel helped launch her onto the horse completely. He held back a wince as his wound ached with every movement, and raised his rifle for her to take.

"I'll come and find you as soon as we're out. You don't leave for anything. You stay right there, hidden, until we come back. Got it?"

Ellie took the rifle, slugging it onto shoulder, before gripping Callus' reins and nodding. "Got it."

"Good." He hummed, stroking Callus' side before meeting Ellie's eyes. "Go on."

She simply sniffled, murmuring, "Let's go," to the horse before she and Callus thundered off down the street.

Joel watched as Ellie rode away, his rifle slung over her shoulder, and as he turned back towards the house, it took him about a second to realise you were no longer making any noise, and it only took half of that time to send him into utter panic.

✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚,

The carpet beneath your fingernails was the only sensation you registered as David's hand coiled around your throat, tightening its grip and stifling any more attempts at screaming.

You weren't fighting back anymore. You couldn't. You'd lost it all the moment David had you pinned down and injured. The likelihood of Joel succumbing to the brutality of David's men gnawed at your conscience. Imagining Ellie, now alone and convinced you were lost too, fighting desperately to escape their clutches added another layer of anguish to your already shattered resolve. You didn't want to risk that becoming a truth, and so you just lay there.

Time seemed to stretch with each agonising blink, your eyes lingering shut for longer intervals. As David's suffocating grip on your throat gradually released, you struggled to focus through the haze. His lips moved, likely weaving a twisted soliloquy, but the only sound that reached you was the persistent thud of blood coursing through your veins. Each breath you managed to draw felt like a desperate attempt to refill your lungs, your chest heaving with the effort.

His vice-like grip on your neck finally released, and as you dared to steal a glance downward, all you saw was his hand moving towards his zipper.

You clutched at the carpet, fingers digging in, and drew in a wheezy breath, steeling yourself for whatever might come next.

David's face and body loomed over you, paralysing you with fear. Just as you thought it was all over, the sudden impact of your rifle against the side of his head sent his looming figure crashing to the floor beside you. Through the haze of your vision, you could vaguely make out a blurry figure in a brown coat gripping your rifle and ruthlessly slamming it down repeatedly onto what appeared to be David's body.

Unable to discern many words, you could only catch snippets of angry and pained sounds. Fear gripped you, but in a moment of reprieve, you managed to turn on your side. For perhaps the first time since you woke up, you felt a semblance of relief, as if you could finally afford to breathe again.

Your body ached, and your lungs burned with each precious breath of fresh air, reminiscent of a dog lapping up water on a scorching day. Curled into a foetal position, the only sounds that reached your ears were the haunting echoes of sniffles and whimpering. It didn't take long for you to grasp the painful realisation that those anguished sounds were escaping your own lips.

A hand gripping your ankle jolts you into immediate action, fearing the worst. A distressed wail escapes your lips as you kick out, refusing to glance at the person who has a hold of you. Slowly crawling away, you use your uninjured arm to support yourself, doing your best to fight the searing pain flowing through you.

The hand lets up, and then it moves to land delicately on your back. Gentle and light, it hovers, assuring you of his presence.

Everything seems to move once more in slow motion as you continue to kick out, eventually flipping onto your side and meeting your would-be assailant's eyes once more.

Except it's not David.

It's Joel.

His lips are parted, and he is speaking to you softly. His face is taut with concern, distress, and fear.

"..'s me; it's just me. It's me."

The sound of relief escaping you doesn't come close to the immense relief flooding your insides.

As Joel senses the realisation dawning in your eyes, his expression eases slightly, a fraction of his concern dissipating.

You can't help but avert your gaze, your eyes falling upon David's battered body lying a short distance away. The butt of your rifle, stained with his blood, rests by his side. It's evident that Joel has discarded it and hurried to your aid.

His touch on your cheek is gentle, coaxing you to meet his gaze once more.

"Look at me," he urges, his voice a comforting murmur. "You're okay. You're with me. Just keep your eyes on me. Keep focusing on me."

Your lip trembles. "J-Joel...he…he…”

"I know," he murmurs softly, his face etched with pain as he gently covers your hand with his own on the floor. The gesture makes you flinch involuntarily, and memories of David flood your mind. "I know, honey. I know."

Honey.

The term is uttered with such tenderness, so delicately, that it catches you off guard. His eyes glisten with unshed tears as he regards you with the utmost care, as if he can hardly believe he's reached you in time.

Tears stream down your cheeks, unnoticed, until you feel his arms enveloping you. It's surprising the sheer gentleness emanating from a man hardened by years of violence, his fists having shed blood from countless adversaries. Yet here he is, cradling you as though you're the most precious gift, as if it's the most natural thing for him to do, as though he was born to love and protect you, no matter the time it took for him to realise it.

His hand finds solace in your matted hair, anchoring you to him as you weep against his chest. For a long while, he remains silent, allowing your sorrow to seep into him as if, by some miracle, it might alleviate your pain. You feel a shift in his posture, and then his chapped lips brush gently against your forehead.

Drawing back slightly from the comfort of his embrace, you meet his gaze.

"You're... you're alive," you breathe out softly.

The corners of his lips twitch up a little, and he nods gently down at you. "Your stubborn ass saved me, remember?"

"I... I had to. I couldn't... couldn't lose you," you respond, still teary-eyed. Your gaze darts around frantically for a moment. "E—Ellie? Where's Ellie? Did they get Ellie?"

Joel shakes his head quickly. "We... I got 'em, I swear. They didn't touch her. She's safe."

"They... they were really bad people, Joel," you whisper, a slight desperation in your voice, as if you need him to believe you, though you have no idea why you feel the need to justify it. "Really bad. They... they... the things he wanted to do."

Your gaze starts to drift back to David's body, but Joel gently redirects your focus to him with a tender touch on your cheek, his thumb wiping away the blood from where David's ring had cut your skin. "No, no. Don't look at him, alright? Just keep looking at me and listening, okay? Focus right here on me and me only."

You nod, your attention fixed on him.

“You did good, sweetheart. You did so good. You saved me and Ellie, and…and you’re still here with us. It was always going to be your life over any of theirs. You did what you had to do.”

Weakly, you nod and rest your trembling hand on his arm.

He glances down at your hand, resting his own atop it, and takes a breath. Using the next few moments to assess your condition, he notices the blood-soaked sheet wrapped around your shoulder, his face paling considerably. Then, his gaze falls on the swollen part of your arm where David has torn it from its socket.

He releases your hand and rises to his feet, prompting a soft cry of his name from you, as if he might leave you in that state.

"I'm right here. You're okay," he assures you, reaching down to cup your cheek. "I just need to... I need to help you. You're hurt, sweetheart. Just keep your eyes on me. I'm not going anywhere; I just need to..."

Glancing over to the bed, where the ripped sheet lies, he reluctantly lets go of you and strides over to retrieve it. Returning to your side, he offers reassurance. "See? I'm still here."

You watch him carefully as he tears the fabric apart with his bare hands, studying his every move.

"Joel," you say softly at first, catching his attention only when you repeat his name with a bit more urgency.

"Yeah, what's up?" He responds, turning to you.

"I'm... I'm glad you're here."

His worried expression softens, though concern still lingers in his gentle brown eyes. After a moment's pause, he replies, "Me too, honey." Taking a breath, he continues, "Now, I'm gonna ask you to do something for me, okay?"

You weakly nod your agreement.

"Just stay still while I see what I can do about your arm, alright?" he instructs.

He shakily reaches over to lightly press your swollen, deformed-looking arm, retracting his hand almost immediately when you cry out in pain. The anguish in his eyes mirrors your own hurt, and once the wave of pain has passed, you grasp his coat with your uninjured hand, murmuring your apologies.

"It's okay, it's okay," he reassures you softly, cupping your cheek and meeting your gaze with his intense one. "I need you to trust me for a second, okay? This is going to hurt, but you are going to be just fine, I promise. Everything's going to be okay."

Tears brim in your eyes, but you nod. "I trust you, Joel."

He smiles softly at you, leaning forward to press a kiss on your head before he reaches out and takes your injured arm's hand in his own. With a shaky breath, he asks, "Can you feel that?"

You nod with a sniffle.

"Good. That's good." He squeezes your hand gently. "And you feel that?"

Again, you nod.

He squeezes once more, meeting your eyes. "Still with me?"

Another nod.

Taking a breath, he squeezes for the third time, a nervous expression clouding his face.

It takes you a moment to process his confession as pain overwhelms you. But when you realise what he has said, everything stops hurting for a moment, and a relieved tear slips down your cheek.

He smiles weakly back at you.

And then he tugs.

✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚,

"Almost there, sweetheart," Joel murmurs, his hand light on your back as he guides you through the blizzard, mindful of your delicate state. "I've got you."

Your injured arm is cradled in a makeshift sling, and a fresh bandage, fashioned from the same sheet, is carefully tied over your bullet wound. Despite the lingering pain, being with Joel feels like a balm to your soul, as if you're walking on air. The thought of being reunited with Ellie soon fills you with hope, giving you the strength to keep moving forward, despite the weariness weighing down your legs.

Every little noise puts you on edge, whether it's the howl of the wind or the thud of snow against a roof. But Joel is there, a reassuring presence, whispering words of comfort each time you tense up, trying to reach for a weapon and inadvertently causing yourself more pain.

"Hey, hey, it’s okay," Joel assures as you come to reach the last few houses on the road, the sight of horse prints visible in the snow-covered ground. "Look behind us; look around. There is no one here but us. No one is going to hurt you, I promise."

You look around nervously, seeing that he is right. You are simply overwhelmed by paranoia right now.

“No one is going to hurt you,” Joel repeats gently, a change from his usual tone but a welcome one. You've never felt safer.

You nod, scooting closer to him all the same.

The horse tracks lead up to the final house on the road, and Joel is grateful that Ellie followed his instructions this time.

He shuffles as slowly as you need up the short distance of the porch steps, and when you both reach the top and you begin to lose your ability to keep moving forward, he wraps your uninjured arm around his neck and keeps you moving. “I’ve got you. You’re okay, sweetheart. You’re just tired, that’s all. You’re going to rest as soon as we get inside, alright? Talk to me; let me know you’re still in there.”

“Still here..." you assure quietly, though your vision is beginning to blur and darkness is beginning to form in your peripherals.

“Atta girl, stay with me.” He presses a gentle hand over your ear and pushes the other to rest against his chest. He raises his voice, though muffled to you, as he kicks the front door as he has no hands free. “Ellie! Open up! It’s us!”

By the time the door opens, you are halfway through succumbing to the darkness.

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3604

Summary: You find yourself in trouble with David and his people, and you decide to sacrifice yourself for the ones you love the most.

Note(s): Okay, you guys are gonna hate me but I decided to make it four parts as, once again, the third part became too long, but I promise, the fourth will be the last part! I hope this sets you up for the grand ending we are all waiting for haha! Thank you for all the support! And as always feedback is appreciated, but please be respectful! Please give me any (detailed, please!) requests in my inbox or comments if you have any, I would love to hear them! Thank you so much for reading! ♡

Taglist: @wonwoosthetic @paleidiot @orcasoul @slut4mascss @paqerings @missladym1981

✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚,

Fiery orange embers adorned the stack of logs before you. David sat just behind them, opposite you, while the lifeless form of the prized buck lay on the floor, maintaining the distance between you and David.

"You weren't kidding about being a good shot," David complimented, rubbing his hands together by the fire he had made in the centre of the abandoned shack where you two had taken shelter while waiting for James to return with the medicine. "You must've had a lot of practice with a weapon like that, huh? Someone in your group teach you?"

You, for one, did not appreciate his attempts at small talk and straightened up, keeping your rifle balanced on your lap, aiming straight at him just in case. You rolled your eyes slightly, keeping an eye out for the other man, James, in case he tried to sneak up on you.

"You're not one to trust easily; I get it. I've been there." He nods, and you narrow your gaze back towards him. His attempt to relate to you did little to ease your skepticism. The flickering flames danced across his face, casting shadows that only deepened your suspicion. He let out a breath. "Do you believe in God?"

You let out a scoff of disbelief that he was asking you that question.

"I know, I know," he chuckled. "Weird time to find religion, especially with it being the end of days and all, but I've... I've seen and felt things—things that cannot be explained. It's like there's a force out there guiding me and protecting me." He notices your unamused expression and shrugs. "Call it what you want, but I choose to believe in God and his will, and by acclaiming that faith, he has shown me that everything happens for a reason."

An odd chill that isn't just the breeze of the cold wind rises on your skin, multiplying the goosebumps by a hundred. You shift uncomfortably in your seat.

"Like us, meeting in the woods today—maybe, just maybe, our paths crossed for a good reason. Perhaps our meeting was for a greater purpose."

You raise your eyebrows, yeah right. "What, like some divine intervention?"

David nods, his eyes filled with a glimmer of excitement that unsettles you to the core. "Exactly. Like some sort of divine intervention. Call it coincidence if you will, but I believe there is a plan in motion, and our meeting is a part of it. Maybe we are meant to help each other in some way. It may sound far-fetched, I know, but sometimes life surprises us in the most unexpected ways."

An exasperated sigh passes your lips, and it is evident that you are not playing into David's hand by opening up to him.

He clears his throat, sitting up, and this grabs your attention instantly, your hands tightening once more on the rifle. "I can prove it to you, if you like."

"Prove what?"

He smiles and gestures aimlessly: "I can prove that everything happens for a reason, that you and I were meant to meet each other this way."

You gaze back at him with a stoic expression, clearly unamused by the direction of the conversation. However, beneath the surface of your irritation, a subtle pulse of unease begins to intensify, growing more palpable with each passing second in this man's presence.

David leaned in slightly, his gaze never leaving yours, as if trying to imprint his words on your mind. "You see, we didn't expect this winter to be so cruel. Nothing'll grow. The game's been hard to find, but I'm sure you know all about that." He paused, letting the weight of his words linger before continuing. "So I sent four of our people to a nearby town to scavenge what they could."

A shiver ran down your spine, and you tightened your grip on the rifle, sensing there was more to this story.

"And only three of them came back." David's eyes gleamed in the flickering firelight, his voice taking on a sinister edge. "The one who didn't make it was a father. A man with a daughter, just a teenager. Can you imagine the pain of losing your father in these times?" He let the question hang in the air, studying your reaction.

Your heart raced, a knot forming in the pit of your stomach as your thoughts unconsciously wandered to Ellie and Joel.

"You see," he continued, leaning back slightly but maintaining an unsettling gaze, "it turns out he was murdered. Murdered by this crazy man."

Another heavy pause lingered in the air, his words sinking in, and you could sense the direction this conversation was taking, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up.

"And get this." David's tone took on a chilling cadence. "That crazy man was traveling with a little girl and a woman that looked just like you."

In a swift motion, you rose to your feet, rifle poised, and aimed squarely at him, your finger coiling around the trigger.

A contented smile painted itself across his face, and he playfully shook his head in amusement. "See? Fate has a way of guiding us."

Your heart raced, a symphony of adrenaline orchestrating its frantic beats as the thought of Ellie having to defend herself and Joel against who knows how many of those men right now consumed you. "You've been watching us all this time?"

David casually brushed aside the notion with a nonchalant shake of his head. "No, not at all. Just you, just today, just by chance. You see, it wasn't planned, but here we are nonetheless."

The panic inside you was something you hadn't felt in a long, long time. You felt utterly terrified, though your tone was angry as you gritted out, "Where the fuck is your friend? If he's so much as—"

David's eyes glinted with calculated charm as he interrupted your brewing anger with a sly smile. 'I told you, we are not here to cause you or your little girl any harm. We can protect you, both of you. Isn't that right, James?'

You turn rapidly, only now noticing James standing in the doorway, rifle raised and trained on you. You wish you'd had the common sense to remove the bullets when he left. Taking a step back, you aim the rifle back at David but keep your eyes trained on James. "Shoot me and I'll take your fucking preacher down with me."

James glares back at you, though his hold on the rifle is shaky. "You killed Alec."

"She didn't kill anyone, James," David calls, redirecting the taller man's attention back to him. "Lower the gun."

James looks as though he is going to argue, but David shakes his head, and so James concedes.

"Did you bring the medicine?" You ask, keeping your gaze flitting between both men equally so neither of them can catch you off guard. James nods his head once under the watchful eye of David. "Toss it over here."

To your surprise, the bag is tossed your way almost immediately, and you clutch it desperately in one hand, feeling the bottles and syringe against your icy fingers as your heart races. You take a few steps back, watching them both cautiously.

"He's sick, isn't he? The man?" David speaks with a feigned sincerity as he moves to stand up. "You know, he's the only one we need. You and the little one can make it out unscathed if you just hand him over. It's not like he's going to make it out anyway."

You ignore his words, stepping back slowly, the snow hitting you almost immediately as you make it out of the shack. You gesture your gun towards both of them, "I'm leaving, and if I ever see either of you again, I'll fucking kill you."

"It doesn't need to be like this," David calls, still trying to persuade you despite your threat. "You and your daughter can join us, no questions asked. You still have a chance."

You fire a warning shot at James' boot, the impact jolting him with pain. His rifle reacts, rising in response, but you're already hurtling back through the trees. Desperation fuels your every step as you race through the clearing, the silent prayer to any deity echoing in your mind – a fervent wish that Joel and Ellie will still be alive when you reach them.

✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚,

You descend the basement steps with ragged, labored breaths, catching Ellie off guard as she tends to Joel's semi-conscious form, gently offering sips of water.

"Where the fuck were you?" Ellie demands, her red-rimmed eyes reflecting her worry. "You were gone for hours!"

You shake your head, having no time to properly respond, dropping to your knees beside the mattress where Joel lies. You lift his coat and shirt, revealing the wound that looks even worse than before.

Ellie abandons her attempts to moisturize Joel's lips, watching as you retrieve a syringe and a bottle of penicillin from the bag James gave you. "What is that? Where did you get it?"

"Penicillin. It'll help with the infection," your breathing is shaky, and you can tell your demeanor unsettles Ellie. Ignoring her second question, you are too panicked to care. "Shit. Where do I put this?"

Ellie looks at you, dumbfounded, before turning to Joel and shaking his shoulder gently. "Hey, man, where do we put this? Joel? Joel!"

You draw liquid into the syringe while Ellie attempts to wake Joel, desperately wracking your brain for any inkling of an idea on where to administer it. However, the looming threat of David and James has put you on high alert, making it challenging to think straight. With an unsteady breath, you declare, "Okay. I'm gonna put it in the wound."

"Yeah, o-okay," Ellie nods, not entirely confident in your idea. "You got this."

Her words, albeit sweet, do nothing to reassure you.

"Fuck," you mumble, reaching over to clasp Joel's limp hand in yours. "Please don't let this be the thing that kills you."

His hand twitches slightly as you make contact, but you are too preoccupied with angling the syringe correctly to notice.

You press down onto the plunger as the syringe makes contact, and Joel's hand tightens on your own, weakly, yet the first proper sign of life in so long you could weep. "I'm here," you murmur, more for your own assurance. You made it in time."I'm sorry," an apology for the pain you are causing him physically, but secretly an even bigger apology for him being the injured one. If it had been you, you wouldn't want them risking their lives like this for you. You'd want them to move on, but you couldn't, and wouldn't, stop trying for him. For him and Ellie.

He groans faintly, and his grip on your hand loosens entirely as you finish plunging the medicine into his wound, steadily retracting the syringe and covering him back up, tucking him under his coat carefully. You lay a hand over his forehead and feel he is still quite hot, but hope that the medicine will start fighting against his fever soon enough.

As you settle down onto your knees beside the mattress with a shaky breath, you look up to meet Ellie's eyes. "No one came here while I was gone? You didn't hear anyone outside?"

"No," she shakes her head, her eyes filling with that familiar fear that you've only seen a few times in her usually bright eyes. "We're not safe here, are we?"

You breathe out shakily, debating on whether to lie or be honest. You slowly shake your head, deciding that it was best for her safety if she knew what was really going on. "I met two men in the woods. They knew who I was, what Joel did to that man. They were members of his group."

"They want to kill us?" Ellie asks after a beat of silence, looking down at the floor to avoid your gaze and to avoid you noticing her fear.

"Not us," and that is all you need to say for Ellie to understand.

✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚,

You administered another dose of penicillin to Joel's wound after a couple of hours, fumbling blindly in the dark. As you repeated the motion of clasping his hand in yours, you felt the familiar warmth of his grip in return. This time, it seemed just a little bit stronger, though that might have been your exhausted and desperate mind playing tricks on you.

"You'll wake me if anything happens, right?" Ellie's voice cut through the darkness, causing you to visibly flinch as you were checking Joel's temperature, your hand tensing against his cool skin. She seemed to sniffle before speaking again. "You won't just leave?"

Clearing your throat softly, you replied, "I won't just leave, I promise. But you need to get some rest. We might have to start moving tomorrow, whether Joel is ready or not. We'll have to make our way back to Jackson to get him some proper help."

Silence followed, and you found yourself lying down beside Joel, shuffling as close to him as the floor allowed.

"Are they going to come for us?" Ellie's voice startled you a few minutes later. You did your best to calm your racing heart before responding. "I don't... I don't know. They might try, which is why we need to start moving as soon as possible."

"You didn't kill them? The two men."

You sighed, closing your eyes. "No, I didn't."

"Why not?"

You didn't know. Something niggled at you with the realisation that maybe you should've.

"Goodnight, Ellie."

✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚,

Sleep eluded you that night, despite pressing close to Joel and feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath your palm. Even the reassurance of your rifle's presence, just a quick flex of your fingers away, failed to bring the peace you sought.

As the morning rays beamed overhead, the burden of exhaustion settled throughout your body. Yet, giving up wasn't an option—not now, not after everything.

Drawing another dose of penicillin into the syringe, you administered it into Joel's wound with an exhausted expression. Closing your eyes, you pressed slowly down on the plunger, dozing for a moment until you felt fingers wrap around your wrist.

It was so gentle that it barely phased you until you finished pressing the plunger down. Opening your eyes, you found a large hand clasping your wrist. Without much hesitation, you wrapped your free hand around Joel's hand and looked at his face, relief blooming in your chest.

'"Joel," you whispered softly, careful not to disturb the sleeping Ellie next to him. His eyes were half-lidded, maybe even less, but they remained fixed on you. Squeezing his hand gently, you observed as his lips parted, though no audible sound emerged. "It's okay; you're okay. Just rest. We're right here. I'll get you through this, I promise."'

After covering his wound and tucking the coat back around him, you released his hand and settled back down beside him. His head turned in your direction, eyes still open, and he gazed at you with an expression that eluded your understanding. Yet, you could discern a softening of his features as he looked in your direction, as if looking at you brought him some comfort.

His fingers twitched in the corner of your eye, and upon closer inspection, you found them almost outstretched. Gently reaching down, you intertwined your fingers with his, and he responded with a reassuring squeeze.

Tearfully, you lowered your head and pressed it against his shoulder, your hand still intertwined with his on the mattress. "Thank you for holding on," you murmured into his shirt. "Just a little longer, okay? Just until I can get you back to Jackson."

You feel him nod, and as you look up, you notice his eyes are beginning to close fully once more. You squeeze his hand, and for a moment, you feel his cold thumb gliding along the back of your palm in a soothing motion until he falls back to sleep, his hand still in yours.

Smiling faintly into his shoulder, you follow him into the realm of sleep.

✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚,

The frantic call of your name jolts you awake, tearing you from the easiest slumber you've experienced in days. Instantly, you sit up, watching as Ellie races down the staircase, mirroring the urgency you displayed just the day before.

"Ellie? What's happening?" Your voice, thick with sleep, responds, momentarily forgetting the looming threat of David and James.

She clutches Joel's rifle, urgency etched across her face. "They're here, the raiders. There's a whole group."

Panic courses through your veins as you quickly shake off the remnants of sleep, your mind racing to formulate an action plan. "Did they see you?" She looks too panicked to respond, her gaze fixed on the staircase. "Ellie? Focus! Did they see you?"

"No, no, I ran back here before they could." Ellie blurts out, her eyes flicking back up the staircase. "They've got guns and—fuck, my footprints. They're going to track us here."

You know she's right.

"I'll lead them away," you decide almost immediately, moving to stand up but stopping when there is a light tug on the bottom of your coat. You turn, seeing Joel looking up at you with an intense desperation in his eyes. He struggles to speak, just like before, but with the way he shakes his head, you can already tell what he is trying to convey. "I have to, Joel. I have to! I'll... I'll lead them away, and if... if I don't come back, then that'll give you both enough time to get on Callus and start back to Jackson."

His eyes plead with you, but you turn away, and Ellie's face is panic-stricken in the same way.

"They'll fucking kill you!" Ellie argues. "We need to stay. We can't go without you!"

"You have to, Ellie. You have to."

Another firm tug on your coat, and you turn back to look at Joel. His eyes are watery, and his mouth opens, but all he can utter is, "Stay."

You shake your head, fighting back your own tears. "It's going to be okay. I'll... I'll find my way back to Jackson somehow."

He shakes his head, and you bite your lip to hold back a sob. You reach down, intertwining your fingers. He holds them without a second thought, and then you squeeze.

Once. I.

Twice. Love.

Thrice. You.

Through your tears, you manage a smile as his body tenses in realization. Before he can react, you gently pull away from his grip and stand up, taking your rifle in stride. You can't bring yourself to look back at Joel, even as you hear him attempt to utter your name numerous times in a hoarse voice. It's torture, but you force yourself to hold back.

"Ellie." You stand in front of her, and she avoids meeting your eyes until you gently place a hand on her shoulder. That's when you notice the tears swimming in her eyes. "It's going to be okay, okay?"

Her lip wobbles, but she nods, replying shakily, "Yeah."

"You're so special, Ellie. You're going to change the world; I already know it." You assure her softly, cupping her cheek. She leans into the touch—the gentlest she's ever known. "But do as I said, alright? Don't you dare follow me. Stay with Joel, give him another dose of the penicillin, and get both of you back on Callus if I don't make it back. Then, just get the fuck out of here. Don't look back, okay? Not for a second."

She attempts to say your name in a pleading tone, but you silence her with a shake of your head.

"Promise me, Ellie," you implore. "Promise me that you will not follow me, please."

She nods, and her lip trembles so much that you can't resist pulling the teenager into your arms. One of your arms wraps around her shoulder, while your other hand rests against her ponytail, running your fingers through her dark locks as if for the last time. Neither of you had ever embraced each other before, but it feels right now. Ellie means something to you now. Joel means something to you now. You have to do this for them.

"I have to go," you murmur, gently pulling away from the hug. Ellie frantically wipes away the tears sliding down her cheeks as you smile sadly at her. Without finding the strength to turn around and say a proper goodbye, you rush up the staircase, closing the door behind you. Leaning against it, you let out a soft sob, grappling with the thought of never seeing either of them again. Yet, you'd rather have them lose you than for you to lose them. You scan the room hurriedly, searching for something to block the door and buy them some time.

Your eyes land on a heavy-looking wooden table pushed against the wall. With a surge of adrenaline, you grip the table's edge, your muscles straining as you drag it towards the door. The weight feels immense, but you refuse to let it defeat you. Sweat beads on your forehead as you finally position the table in front of the door, wedging it against the frame as best you can. It may not hold for long, but it's all you can do in this moment.

Pressing your hand against the door as a silent goodbye, you make your way out of the house, determined to end this.

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2611

Summary: While waiting for Joel to recover, he takes a turn for the worst, and you find yourself doing whatever you can to keep him with you and Ellie.

Note(s): I was asked to do a second part of this fic where the reader gets hurt and Joel goes crazy over it, but it was getting a bit long so I've split it into three parts, so this is the first and the second will be up pretty soon! This deviates from the show/game in terms of the David situation (Ellie doesn't get hurt), but I hope you still enjoy! I feel like this idea has been done a few times so I hope it's not too repetitive!! Also I am not medically inclined in the slightest so if the details are wrong for anything, please just go with it hahaha. As always feedback is appreciated, but please be respectful! Please give me any requests in my inbox or comments if you have any, I would love to hear them! Thank you so much for reading! ♡

✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚,

He made it through the first night, then the next, and the one after that.

It was almost unbelievable. While you kept a brave face for Ellie, reassuring her that everything was going to be okay, the fact that Joel was still there with you felt almost too good to be true—not that you were complaining, not one bit.

Night after night, you would lie beside him, simply watching him. When Ellie succumbed to fitful bouts of sleep, you made sure to keep his coat tucked under his chin, preserving his warmth as he lay unconscious on the mattress. With your flashlight aimed at his torso, you checked for any signs of movement, or rather, the ceasing of it, until you eventually succumbed to sleeping yourself. After the flashlight inevitably died after the second night, you resorted to placing a delicate hand on his chest, under his coat, feeling for the rise and fall of his shallow breaths.

Most of your conversations with him—conversations that felt more like monologues—happened when Ellie was either asleep or out collecting snow for Callus. Initially, it was to offer comfort during those brief moments of consciousness—the occasional groan of pain or the utterance of your name. Eventually, when he fell completely unconscious, talking to him became a source of comfort purely for yourself.

You'd ramble on about just about anything that came to mind, mindful of your volume to avoid waking or alerting Ellie. It began with small talk and general comments about how cold it was and how you hoped he was warm enough. To pass the time, you'd share some of the less corny jokes from Ellie's pun book, and then you began telling him about your life before the outbreak: your family, your occupation, and your hobbies. For some reason, it all spilled out, and there ended up being more words spoken between you than before he was injured. For whatever reason, whether that was because you did not have his hardened expression aimed at you while you spoke for once, you found it really easy to open up to him, and you could only hope that he could hear you somehow and that he'd know you and Ellie were still there, waiting for him.

You couldn't help but wonder if this was how nurses felt before the outbreak. Did they talk to their comatose patients, hoping their voice was enough to guide them back to the land of the living, to the ones they loved?

You hoped that was the case for Joel, even if you couldn't fathom being a reason for him to live, no matter how desperately you needed him.

✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚,

On the fourth day, sunlight streamed through the overhead windows, gently nudging you awake. Your forehead was pressed against Joel's coat, your hand still resting on his chest, feeling him breathe. As you glanced up, you noticed his head leaning towards yours, a mix of pain and contentment etched on his typically stoic face. A faint smile crossed your lips at the first sight of his subtle reaction.

With a sigh of relief, you slowly sat up, withdrawing your hand from his chest.

On the other side of Joel, Ellie was still fast asleep, nestled as close to him as possible on the mattress. A frown creased your brow as realisation dawned upon you: none of you had eaten properly in days, rationing the minimal scraps you had, just in case Joel woke up and, undoubtedly, felt hunger. The truth was, surviving purely on those scraps and melted snow alone wouldn't last much longer.

Letting out a small sigh, you approached Ellie, kneeling beside her and softly calling her name before placing a gentle hand on her shoulder to wake her. "Ellie? Hey, Ellie?"

She woke with a start, glancing around in momentary disorientation before her eyes met yours. Her gaze quickly shifted to Joel. "Is he okay?"

You hummed, "He's doing as well as he can right now. Are you hungry?"

"Starving," she murmured, laying back down and looking as exhausted as you felt.

You reached for your bag, rummaging around for a moment before pulling out a piece of jerky that looked to have seen better days. You let out a small sigh and held it out for Ellie, who narrowed her eyes at you and took it before breaking it in half and holding one piece out for you.

"I'm good," you assured her with a wave of your hand, and you watched as Ellie reluctantly lowered her arm after a few moments. Instead, she shuffled closer to the mattress and laid the jerky on top of Joel's coat, which made you smile slightly.

Ellie continued chewing quietly for a moment before raising her hand and laying the back of it on Joel's forehead. "Holy fuck. He's like a furnace."

You were no doctor, but you were sure that just having a coat draped over him wouldn't raise his temperature that much, especially in the blistering cold of winter. You frowned, placing your own hand on his forehead and retracting it almost instantly. Sweat was forming at his brow, and using your very little medical knowledge from the medical dramas you used to consume before the outbreak, you realised he had a fever.

With quick speed, you lifted the coat off his lower stomach, lifted his shirt, and examined the wound that you had the displeasure of stitching up all those days ago, realising almost immediately that something looked off. The skin around it was scorched red, swollen, and oozing pus, something that you were unable to see last night with no flashlight.

"Shit," you muttered to yourself, knowing it was infected and realising that it was more than likely caused by the bacteria-infested needle you had used so hastily to patch him up.

Ellie sat up, watching you with concern. "What? What is it?"

"The wound is infected," you sighed, sitting back on your heels and trying to think of the best course of action. "Okay, I'm going to search the other houses to see if any of them have any sort of antibiotic."

Ellie nodded, sitting up. "Okay, let's go."

You shook your head. "I go. You stay here, with Joel."'

Her mouth opened, her stubborn attitude ready to argue with you, but you simply shook your head once more. "Someone has to watch him, Ellie. If he wakes up and needs help and no one's here, he'll..." You trail off, and Ellie's fight seems to wane considerably at the sight of your sadness. You clear your throat and reach towards the weapon lying beside the staircase. "Take Joel's rifle. Anything goes south down here; you take care of it, alright?"

She takes it, nodding, her eyes falling to the slow rise of Joel's chest as she asks, "What if you don't come back?"

You were speechless for a moment; for some reason, you didn't even consider that a possibility. You were only going to search some of the other houses, not even going too far, but there was still the possibility that the raiders were still hanging around waiting for you all. That, or infected.

"I will," is your simple response.

It's not enough for Ellie. "You don't know that."

"I have to," you state, and she looks up at you. "I have to come back, Ellie. I took this job for a reason, and... I'm not leaving you behind."

Your eyes flitter to Joel's unconscious form.

"Either of you."

✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚, '"Where the hell did you go?"

The search for medicine in the abandoned houses near the garage where you, Ellie and Joel had taken refuge proved utterly futile. Exiting each house empty-handed drained the last remnants of optimism from your body.

However, a glimmer of determination emerged when you found yourself tailgating a white rabbit through a clearing into the snowy woods between two houses. With the smallest spark of fight left in you, you raised your rifle and focused on at least securing a substantial meal for yourself and Ellie today.

Yet, as the woods were entirely blanketed in snow, your search was already compromised. Nevertheless, you kept your feet moving, aware that any pause could cause your knees to buckle, making it a struggle to find the strength to stand again.

"Shit," you muttered to yourself, the chill blistering your skin as you narrowed your eyes in search of the elusive creature. "Where the hell did you go?"

Taking a few more steps, you heard the familiar squeaking resume as you approached a log. The rabbit seemed to have burrowed itself in the snow behind it in an attempt to protect itself, and you did your best to move quietly to avoid startling it. Fate, however, had other plans. A few twigs snapped in the near distance, and the creature bolted once more.

Turning your head to the source of the noise, your blood ran cold. Two men were facing you, their rifles prominent in their hands, though not raised. Their eyes were fixed on you as they took a step forward, the shorter one leading the taller.

Although you couldn't recognise them as the raiders who attacked you, Joel, and Ellie days ago, you weren't naive. You understood the dangers posed by any desperate man.

In an instant, you dove behind a tree, raising your rifle and aiming it towards them, cautiously glancing out to keep an eye on their movements. "Don't come any closer."

From the shadows, the shorter man with short, ginger hair, barely visible at the top of his head, raised a hand to halt his friend. "Easy, there; I'm sure we can all work this out. We aren't here to hurt you; quite the opposite, actually."

"I don't care what you're here for; walk away or I shoot," you called, squeezing the rifle in your hand, finding it a comfort. You'd feel much more reassured with Joel there, but you're sorely reminded of your predicament. "And I never miss."

Silence followed your warning, and you cautiously looked out, seeing them both still standing there. The shorter man seemed more relaxed than the taller one. He had his hands raised in surrender, and his gun had been dropped to the snow-covered ground. The taller man, wearing a beanie, still held his gun, but in a loose grip.

"Just...just hear me out for a second," the shorter man began, nodding at you in an attempt to calm you. He noticed your attention focused on his friend's gun and turned his head towards him while keeping most of his body facing you. "James, drop the gun."

James eyed the shorter man wearily, but ultimately he did as he was told. Your shoulders loosened considerably, though you kept your gun raised in warning, your finger resting on the trigger.

The shorter man looked back at you, his lips quirking slightly at the edges in a way that unsettled you. "See? We truly aren't here to cause you any harm. My name is David, and this is my friend, James."

You bit back a snarky comment about not giving a damn, and feeling assured enough that you had the upper hand now, being the only one holding your weapon, you stepped out from behind the tree. David's eyes narrowed slightly as he took you in, but a smile settled on his lips soon after.

"You out here all alone?"

You visibly stiffened, tensing your finger on the trigger, and David laughed a little as he spoke. "Easy, now. Just having a conversation is all. You're looking a bit worse for wear. You been out here long?"

"A few hours," you responded honestly, before pausing just a fraction too long. "My whole group has. In fact, they should be on their way back here right now."

David quirked his eyebrow, sounding disbelieving as he asked, "How many of you are there?"

"Enough." You responded, glaring at him, but this only caused him to smile unnervingly towards you again.

"So you're travelling with a big group, huh? Yeah, me and James come from a big group too." He looked towards his friend and nodded. "Yeah, we have a settlement a couple miles from here. Nothing too fancy, just a little village, but it's safe—you'd have a roof over your head, some extra clothes on your back, and new boots if you needed them. You could come and check it out to see if it's good enough for you and your friends; it would be nice to see some fresh faces."

You narrowed your eyes at his offer. "Why aren't you there right now?"

David paused. "I'm sure you know all too well how quickly food runs out in big groups like ours. I guess that's why you were chasing that little bunny so carefully. Yeah, we know the feeling. The desperation. It's hard, right? Well, truth be told, we've been struggling with keeping everyone comfortably fed over this harsh winter, but James has been scouting this big buck for a couple of days, and we've come to bring it back to our people."

You nodded slowly, your stomach twisting at the thought of having something big enough to feed you, Joel, and Ellie comfortably. You could kill them both and go looking for it, but then you'd know you'd truly lost your humanity; you were not yet depraved. "Maybe you should focus on keeping your own people safe before trying to recruit new ones."

"You could help us." David suggested, and you didn't miss the way James looked at him. "As you said, you never miss a shot. James and I are pretty rusty ourselves. But if you helped us, we'd be able to feed our people and yours, or you could take half the buck for yourselves if you truly don't want to give us a chance. Fair trade."

Nerves bubbled within your stomach, and you cleared your throat, tilting your head. "What's to say you won't shoot me dead the second we find it?"

"That wouldn't be very smart, would it?" He smiled. "Not when your group will be showing up soon; James and I'd be outnumbered in seconds."

You breathed out nervously, not knowing what to do and knowing, damn well, no one was coming for you. "Yeah, you would."

David laughed. "So, we have a deal?"

"Back at your village, do you have medicine?" You found yourself asking suddenly, noticing the way James' eyes widened partially, but David remained cool. "For infections and such?"

David hummed. "We do. Someone hurt?"

You nodded, saying nothing else about it.

"Well, then," David sighed. "Tell you what, how about this? James, you head back home and speak to Howard. Tell him you need two bottles of penicillin and a syringe."

James looked at David with an expression of what looked to be confusion and unsureness.

"This isn't code, James. Do as I said," David continued before he turned to you. "You and I will keep hunting for this buck while James gets that medicine for you; then, when he gets back, you can decide whether you want to follow us or not, alright?"

You aimed your rifle towards James as he looked back at you.

"That works." You watched as James leaned to reach for his rifle and fired a warning shot beside his feet, sending the snow flying. "Leave that there. You can find it when I'm gone."

"Listen to the lady, James," David instructed, and James straightened back up, taking a few steps back until he began running through the woods back towards the clearing that you had previously come through yourself.

David met your gaze once more, smiling softly. "Well, let's go find that buck."

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader Word Count: 1298

Summary: Joel would die for you and Ellie; that much was evident, but you only come to realise your true feelings for the man when you realise just how much you need him to live for you both, too.

Note(s): ANGST central for my first ever Joel fic!! I'm so excited to share this, and I hope it is just as exciting to read as it was to write! Any feedback is appreciated, but please be respectful! Please give me any requests in my inbox or comments if you have any, I would love to hear them! Thank you so much for reading! ♡

✮˚. ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚

His blood seeps into the creases of your palms as you desperately apply pressure to his stab wound, the coarse fabric of the cloth you found in your bag doing little to stem the flow. Joel writhes beneath you on the worn mattress, his pain evident in the way he clenches his teeth.

Tears blur your vision as you stumble through apologies, aware of Ellie's tearful gaze on your side profile. She hovers nearby, torn between worry and terror, fearing the loss of yet another person, especially someone as crucial as Joel.

Or, in Henry's words, the type of guy you'd follow anywhere.

His trembling hands find their place on your coat sleeve, tugging with only the desperation of a dying man as you will to keep your blood-soaked hands pressed over his injury.

"Leave...Leave..." His voice is hoarse and shaky, and that terrifies you. "Take my gun."

"Shut up, Joel," Ellie pleads weakly, standing helplessly behind you. "We aren't leaving you."

"Leave." Joel's voice is cold, angry, and scared. But underneath it all, the thing that scared you most was that there is a twinge in his tone that seems too relenting, too assured in letting the battle against him win, much like how Tess had appeared in the state house way back at the beginning of this fucked-up journey, and that was most certainly not him.

You were not losing him, not today.

You choke down the sob rising in your throat, feeling it pulsing in the column of your throat as you look up at Ellie and do your best to ignore the way her face falls at the sight of big tears sliding down your cheeks. "Go upstairs, Ellie. Look for a first-aid kit or something. Be quick."

She doesn't even hesitate, barely nodding before following your instructions, ignoring Joel as he protests weakly against your words on the mattress below.

You finally allow yourself to look down at Joel's face once Ellie is out of sight.

His eyes are wild with an unrecognised emotion; pain and exhaustion are also evident inside his brown irises. It's the first time you have found yourself properly gazing into his eyes, allowing you to see him for who he truly was for the first time—the self that he had resisted letting show for the entirety of the journey until this very moment.

The fearful man beneath.

"Joel..." You trail off, unsure what to say. Ellie is gone for the moment; should you say goodbye, just in case? Even the notion of doing so has hot tears dribbling down your cheeks, and you're shaking your head at yourself as you try to think of what to do, feeling completely and utterly hopeless.

You're the only capable adult left in this situation, and Ellie is looking to you for guidance on what to do. You couldn't imagine if she were left on her own in this situation. All you know is that if Joel dies and Ellie becomes your sole responsibility, the two of you will barely make it a day.

"Go...go North." He tries, his voice weak, and you ignore him, shaking your head.

Joel achieves a tight grip on you all of a sudden, breaking you from your internal breakdown as he uses seemingly his final bout of strength to tug you closer, startling you as your face looms over his, the closest you have ever been, as one of your hands flies to catch his wrists to stop him from loosening your pressure on his wound. He grits his teeth, speaking through his fear, his voice trembling. "I said, Fucking go! Take Ellie, and get back to Tommy. It's not far. He'll get you to the fireflies... Get you both there."

"Stop, stop.." You shake your head, your voice cracking, but he persists through your protests until you finally snap. "Just shut the fuck up, Joel! We aren't leaving! I...I can't. I can't do this on my own. I can't do... I can't do this without you."

His grip on you loosens, and for a moment, through your tears, you can see his pained and angry expression soften. It is momentary as his eyes flitter between both of yours as he takes in your words, but you feel your heart ache at the glimpse of the real man beneath his cold exterior.

Then, his hands, his bruised knuckles burning white on the fabric of your coat bunched in his grip, pull you closer, and for a moment, your breath hitches. And then he is shoving you away, shattering your delusion in a second.

"Fucking go." He grits out once more, watching as you fall to the floor, using your hands to catch yourself, and letting go of his wound.

You take a moment, out of pure shock, to watch as he cranes his head back to look at the ceiling, as if he can't bear to look at you.

As if he can't bear to see you leave.

"I'm not giving up on you, you asshole." You sniffle, pushing yourself up and glancing up towards the ceiling as you hear Ellie crashing about on the floor above, letting out angry yells to herself. "And neither is she. So don't you fucking give up on us, alright? We've come too far for you to fucking bail on us now."

He groans in pain as you place your hands back on top of the cloth over his wound, pressing down and feeling the warm liquid coat your already-soaked hands once more. You feel and hear him writhing discomfortably beneath you, drowning out your murmured apologies, until he suddenly begins to stop, his movements beginning to slow.

You can't bear to witness what is most likely the face of his dead corpse, and so you find yourself sobbing over your bloodied hands, your eyes squeezed closed as the metallic scent of his blood infiltrates your nostrils due to the close proximity.

"Please...please...you asshole. Please don't do this to me. Please." You cry softly, hearing the ceiling above you continue to squeak as Ellie's boots pound against the floorboards, still tirelessly searching, it seems, even as your own hope begins to dwindle. "I can't do this, Joel. I can't do this on my own. I can't keep her safe. She needs you. I need you. I fucking need you here. I need you to help me do this."

Your hysterical rambles trail off as Ellie's footsteps overhead speed up as they approach the basement door, and soon she is practically ripping the door of the hinges, her boots slamming against each wooden step as she announces, "Here, I found this."

She is on her knees beside you in less than a second, holding up a sewing needle and thread that you can barely find the strength to glance at. You notice she is out of breath and eyeing you with fear that she's too late.

"Ellie...I'm... I'm sorry, but—"

A weak cough interrupts you, and against your gut feeling, you turn your head to check on Joel immediately. His eyes are watery and half-lidded, but he is looking at you with such intensity that you can't bear to look away.

His hands, which had previously been clasped together over his stomach after pushing you away, twitch, a few of his fingers raising upwards, towards you. You reach out your hand, intertwining your fingers with his, and you feel him squeeze weakly, his twitching thumb gliding slowly across the side of your hand, savouring the feeling of your soft skin as a small tear slips down his cheek.

You smile weakly at him, nodding with nothing but gratefulness. He was holding on, and whether he would make it to see the next sunrise with you both or not, he was fighting.

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to you, i'm just a man (to me, you're all i am) (part two) (part three) (part four) (final part) — Joel is bad at feelings. You're just doing your best to keep him, Ellie, and yourself alive. When he's faced with the possibility of losing you, will his true feelings for you become evident?

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