#crownslip

The cool morning breeze is welcomed with open arms. Though nothing quite like a snowy winter’s morning, the spring air is soothing on his aching knee. Joel sits on his porch, a warm mug of coffee cradled in his hands, his cane propped up against the front porch railing. He lifts the mug to his lips and takes a sip ──── black, just how he likes it. Bitter. Hot enough to warm up his body from the inside out. Somethin’ that gets Ellie to complain of it tasting like shit. A chuckle escapes him. ( Shit, maybe he really was goin’ senile in his old age, laughin’ at the thought of that baby girl of his sayin’ somethin’ as stupid as that. )

Not to mention, she wasn’t his baby girl no longer. Girl grew up way too fast. Had to, in this fuckin’ world they lived in, and he hadn’t been of any help. Lyin’ to her, over and over and over again about somethin’ as important as her own life and autonomy . . . Oh, he’d payed for it. Was barely on speakin’ terms with her for two years after she found out the truth. Then he’d nearly got himself killed. Accepted it, even. His fate. Take the lives of many, lives important to others still livin’ . . . The doctor had been that girl’s father. Takin’ Joel’s life only seemed fair. But he’d managed to live, managed to overcome the odds, only to awaken to news of Ellie’s sneakin’ out Jackson’s gates on the back of Shimmer, Dina in tow. Somethin’ ‘bout goin’ after Tommy, who had left earlier, though Joel knew that, for Ellie, findin’ the ones who did this to him was always the end goal. Jesse had gone after ‘em, too, he’d been told.

A fuckin’ mess that had Joel uptight throughout his recovery process. His knee had been replaced with an artificial joint, and he’d suffered a traumatic brain injury from the beating he took. Maybe he couldn’t walk as fast or as far without pain blindin’ him, and maybe his short - term memory wasn’t what it used to be, and maybe he struggled to even grip a pen and write his own fuckin’ name down without shakin’ . . .

But he needed to be out there. Needed to bring his family home.

Time marched on, and, eventually, Ellie returned, a thousand - yard - stare at nothin’ as she’d passed through the gates. Dina and Tommy were with her, though Tommy had suffered greatly. The only one not accompanyin’ ‘em was Jesse . . .

Life went on, though. It always did. It had to. Ellie and Dina had started their relationship, informed Joel he’d be somethin’ of a grandpa to the baby growin’ in Dina’s belly. Ellie struggled with the demons she’d developed, Joel struggled with recoverin’, but life didn’t care. Life continued. Little Jesse Joel Williams was born, and Ellie and Dina packed up and moved to a farmhouse on the outskirts of town. Life went on, probably for the better.

The bottom of the mug rests just above his good knee, fingers gripping around the rim to balance it. Brown eyes scan the horizon as a breath leaves him, condensing in the cool air. It’s then that he believes his eyes to be playin’ tricks on him. Comin’ up the road is Dina, little JJ strapped to her chest, a few hefty bags in tow. Immediately, Joel sets his mug down on the small side table and leans forward to grab his cane. Painfully, he rises from his chair and slowly limps down the porch steps to meet his ( basically ) other daughter.

“ Hey, kiddo, ” he calls out in greeting, squinting in the bright light of the rising sun. Somethin’ ain’t right with this scene ──── Ellie is notably absent, and Dina looks like she’s been cryin’ up a storm. His heart sinks, mind racing with the worst possible outcomes. ( Had Ellie’s demons caught up with her? Had she done the unimaginable? ) “ C’mere. You okay? JJ? Where’s Ellie? ”

Good. It makes this little arrangement of theirs all the more entertaining, taken to Glenn alarmingly quickly. But she shrugs nonchalantly at his response, hands pocketed and leaning against the doorframe of her bedroom. “ Bet you’d think I was being sarcastic even if I gave you an actual compliment. You’d probably blush. ” She says around a playful smile, having genuinely meant her initial words.

Because in this world Glenn seemed too… real. Different from Rick. From Shane. Daryl. Softer, maybe. Light shining in his eyes. He’s not pompous about his survival either, owing it to his friends. Admirable, really. “ You talk about them like they’re your family. ” Maggie can only imagine what they’d all truly gone through for them to be bonded like that. “ I think bein’ fast is better than bein’ rough ‘n tough. Gets you outta trouble hell of a lot faster. ” Sort of a compliment, right?

“ We can’t keep doing this, ” he tells her one morning, after untangling himself from her to dress. The smell of sex still lingers in the air, causing Jesse to wrinkle his nose, disgusted with himself. And it isn’t that he regrets falling into bed with her; the familiarity of her is comforting, safe in this fucked up world they live in. He only regrets coming back, time and time again, as though the feelings he has for someone long gone would simply dissipate. Dina is his first love, one of his best friends, and the selfishness of his decision to continue stringing her along like this kills him from the inside out.

However, he can read her like a book. Something she’d always complained about, him seeming to know her better than he knows himself. He’s caught her gaze lingering on their shared best friend for far too long, clocked her jealousy when Ellie had been with Cat. ( The other girl had taken up all of her best friend’s time, Dina had tried to rationalize. She’d even tried to insist he be jealous, too. ) He knows that he serves only to comfort her, as well. To temporarily ease the ache she has for another, just like him. And, for fuck’s sake, he loves the hell out of Dina.

It just isn’t the type of love she deserves.

Stepping into and pulling up his boxer briefs, Jesse turns to look at Dina where she lies within his bed, sheets pooling at her waist, both far beyond caring about modesty. ( What was the point when you’ve seen it all? ) “ It’s not fair. To you, to me . . . ” To Ellie, and to the girl who had given him the greatest two weeks of his fucking life.

( Fuck. Maybe he is a shitty person. )

Fingers run through messy locks, Jesse moving to sit at the edge of the bed, right beside Dina. She sits up, places her hand over his, and moves to press her lips to his forehead ──── a sign of silent understanding. She needn't words to know what he's getting at. And, honestly, it's better this way. Makes things easier.

So why does he feel like such a failure?

angst-y sentence starters ... @crownslip

She couldn't look at her ... not after how she had left her, how she had driven the butt of her rifle into her abdomen, certainly still sore from the stabbing she had suffered at that brutish woman’s hand. Caitlyn stands with her back straight and her head held high — very mongoose - esque, now that Vi has pointed it out. Ever the decorated officer, ever the leader of House Kiramman … though she feels the mask slipping in Vi’s presence, feels the twisting in her gut and the thumping of her heart. She’s missed her severely, searched for her in another’s touch, thrown herself to the wolves in an act of desperation. ( Such foolish things to have done. ) Vengeance had clouded her judgment, had caused her to push away the one person who saw the woman beneath the weight of her responsibilities, beneath her desire for vengeance …

BUFFY'S EYES WIDEN LIKE WILLOW HAD JUST GIVEN HER A WHOLE EPIPHANY . see! this is why she goes to willow. look at the goofy little smile on buffy's lips , leaning up on her toes , arms swinging like she was giddy. SHE WAS GIDDY .

" nick, you have to sleep. " it's weird. it's so insanely weird to see this side of him – focused, planning, doing math. who the h-e double hockey sticks is he ?! chicago nick takes care of business. & it's eerie, but not in a bad way. she just wishes she was discovering this side of him under different circumstances. happier ones. " it's late, there's still time to get things done tomorrow. & i can help ! we can both wake up early, make some coffee... just tell me what you need. " gentle reminders that he doesn't have to do this alone are key. she pauses now, watching him a few moments longer before throwing a glance over her shoulder. " i don't think your mom likes my pajamas. " no segue. just a secretive whisper. bonnie scares her. " i went to get a glass of water & she was in the kitchen & i think if she could shoot lasers out of her eyes, i'd be a pile of ash right now. " the pajamas are so not the problem here – long live denial !