#pedropascaloneshot

From what you’d seen, Joel was a force of nature—moving through the world with a quiet, unrelenting intensity that made people instinctively step aside. His demeanor was hard, impenetrable, as though he never spared anyone more than a passing glance, like nothing could reach him. He seemed to carry the weight of something heavy, yet refused to let it show. And yet, despite that, he had saved you. As the flickering candlelight cast soft shadows across the room, your thoughts drifted to him—those deep lines etched into his forehead, the way sweat gathered on his brow after a day’s labor, and his lips, which you had never once seen curve into a smile.

You told yourself it wasn’t disappointment that ate at you after the failure of your deal. You had tried, and you had failed. And it didn’t take long to realize that, no matter how much you fought, survival alone was a battle already lost. The world was too vast, too cruel. People like Joel and Tess—they survived because they didn’t hesitate. They moved with purpose, their resolve unshaken. You had been alone for so long, learning to rely on only yourself. It had become second nature. But after that night, after seeing them, you couldn’t deny the truth that lingered in the quiet corners of your mind: you needed them. Needing them felt like a betrayal, a weakness exposed after eight years of solitary survival. Yet, it was unavoidable.

So, you followed them.

At first, it was subtle. You kept your distance, always watching from crumbling alleyways or behind half-destroyed walls as they moved through the QZ. Joel and Tess were always together, their steps synchronized in a way that spoke of years of understanding.

Joel’s presence was magnetic, like the calm before a storm—a quiet intensity that drew everything in without needing to make a sound. He moved through the chaos of the QZ with an effortless confidence, each step deliberate, his gaze sharp and unyielding. His arms often folded across his chest, as if guarding something buried deep within, while the silver threads in his hair would catch the light in fleeting moments, softening his hardened edges. There was a gravity to him, an unspoken weight that made people part in his wake, as if they understood he was someone you didn’t challenge. Beside him, Tess was his counterbalance—sharp where he was silent, commanding in the way only someone who had seen the worst of the world could be. Her eyes, always keen, seemed to strip the world bare with a glance, bending it to her will without the need for words. Together, they were an unspoken force—two sides of the same coin, moving in unison as if the world itself couldn’t touch them.

You, on the other hand, were a whisper—a silent presence, unnoticed.

They never saw you. Days turned into weeks, and you grew more daring, trailing them deeper into the black market. You watched their every move as though they held the key to your survival. You waited for the moment when you could prove yourself, to step out from the shadows and show that you could be part of their world.

That moment came sooner than you expected.

It was an ordinary evening, the sun sinking low, casting long shadows across the streets as curfew tightened its grip on the QZ. You followed them, close enough to hear the faint murmur of their conversation, yet always far enough to remain unseen. You watched Joel, how his presence seemed to guide Tess through the streets, a protective force that lingered beside her, even in silence.

They led you into an old, abandoned building, the air inside thick with dust and the scent of decay. You moved carefully, your steps light, but the streets outside could not fully mask the faint scuff of your foot against the cracked floor. It was in that instant that you saw them—Joel, Tess, and a small group, huddled in the dim light of the building. Tension clung to the air. This wasn’t an ordinary smuggling deal. Something was wrong.

Tess’s voice was low and urgent, speaking to a woman you didn’t recognize—her face pale, skin clammy with sweat as she pressed a trembling hand against a wound, blood seeping through her fingers. Standing nearby was a girl, no more than fourteen, her arms crossed, eyes filled with both fear and defiance.

Your pulse quickened. This wasn’t just another smuggling deal. Something was wrong. And you definitely shouldn’t be here.

You took a step back, intending to disappear before anyone noticed your presence, but the sound of your shoe scraping against the rough floor echoed like a gunshot in the oppressive quiet. You froze, dread curling around your chest.

Joel’s head snapped toward you, years of survival sharpening his instincts as his eyes narrowed, scanning the darkness with lethal precision.

“Come out,” his voice commanded, low, edged with something dark and unyielding.

Your heart thundered in your chest. You hesitated for only a moment before stepping forward, hands trembling by your sides. You felt exposed, like a child caught spying on something forbidden, the weight of embarrassment heavy on your shoulders. When you emerged from the shadows, your breath caught in your throat—Joel was pointing a gun at you, his expression unreadable.

There was a flicker of recognition in his eyes, brief and fleeting, before they hardened, dark and sharp, pinning you in place as if daring you to make the wrong move. Your heart raced, your breath catching in your throat as the weight of the moment pressed down on you. But even through the fear—through the threat of the gun trained on you—you couldn’t help but notice him.

He was a man built of rough edges and unspoken sorrow. The strong line of his jaw and the sharp angles of his face, framed in that fleeting light, left you breathless in a way you couldn’t explain. He was handsome in the way of broken things—handsome without softness, without intention, as if the world had shaped him out of its wreckage and forgotten to smooth the edges.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing here?” His voice, thick with a southern drawl, was laced with frustration that bordered on anger. His dark, unblinking eyes weighed you down with suspicion, pulling you abruptly from the trance you hadn’t realized you’d fallen into. A flush crept up your cheeks, the warmth of embarrassment mixing with the intensity of his gaze.

Your throat was dry, the words stuck somewhere between your mind and your lips. You tried to speak, but nothing came out. Swallowing hard, you grimaced at your own silence. Great. He probably thinks I’m mute, you thought, a grim sense of irony creeping in. This was the second time you’d been struck speechless in his presence, as if the weight of his gaze alone had the power to steal your voice.

Before the moment could stretch further, Tess’s voice sliced through the tension like a knife.

“Wait,” Tess said, stepping between you and Joel, her sharp gaze flicking between the two of you before recognition dawned in her eyes. “I know her. She’s the doctor from the QZ.”

Your heart skipped a beat. How did Tess know you? You had worked in the infirmary for extra rations, but you had kept your head down, trying not to draw attention. Yet, Tess knew. Of course she did. Tess always knew.

Joel’s gun remained raised, though his eyes shifted to Tess, waiting for an explanation. Tess’s expression softened slightly as she gestured toward you.

“She might be able to help,” Tess said, nodding toward the woman slumped against the wall. “We need her.”

Need me for what? The question echoed in your mind, but you stayed silent, your heart pounding as the gravity of the situation settled over you.

A scoff echoed from the young girl standing nearby, her eyes rolling with exaggerated annoyance. “Another one? What is this, ‘Take Your Random Stranger to Work Day’?”

Joel shot her a sharp look, his voice hard. “Quiet.”

The girl huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Just trying to lighten the mood.”

Joel’s gaze returned to you, the gun still in his hand, though now lowered. His eyes searched your face, as if weighing how much of a threat you posed, or whether you were worth trusting. The tension in his jaw didn’t ease, but after a moment, he nodded. Barely.

“Fine,” he muttered, though he spared you only the briefest glance before turning his attention back to the situation at hand. His mind seemed elsewhere, as if, like you, he had found himself in a moment far bigger than he had anticipated.

You exhaled shakily, realizing only now how tightly you’d been holding your breath throughout the entire encounter. Tess gestured for you to come forward.

“That’s Marlene,” Tess murmured, her voice softer now as she motioned toward the woman slumped against the wall, her breath labored and shallow. “Shot by FEDRA.”

Your eyes widened as the severity of the wound hit you. The blood seeped through her fingers like a slow, inevitable surrender, too much for her to survive without immediate care. Every instinct in you flickered to life, pushing aside the fear as you dropped to your knees beside her. Your hands moved swiftly, tearing a strip of cloth to fashion a makeshift bandage. As you pressed it firmly against the wound to stem the bleeding, your mind raced, piecing together the gravity of the situation unraveling before you.

Above you, their conversation continued, a low, urgent hum that seemed to thrum through the air—Joel, Tess, and Marlene whispering in hushed tones about transport, the girl, and something far more dangerous than you’d realized. Plans were forming, intricate and desperate, and you were now in the thick of it.

“We can’t move her like this,” Tess said, her gaze flickering to Marlene with a grim finality. “She won’t make it.” She paused for a moment before adding, her tone steady, “We need to get the girl out of here. And we need her,” Tess said, nodding in your direction. “Medical skills might be the only thing that keeps us alive.”

Joel’s eyes shifted to you again, lingering with a skepticism that felt like a blade at your throat. He didn’t need to say a word for you to feel the weight of his mistrust; it was written in the hard line of his gaze. The sharpness in his eyes pinned you in place, silently assessing your worth, your potential threat, and whether you were just another burden to carry. But Tess’s word seemed to hold weight with him. He trusted her, and for now, that was enough.

After what felt like an eternity, Joel gave a terse nod, though his expression remained unyielding, and his gaze barely flickered in your direction. His mind seemed elsewhere—perhaps racing just like yours, caught in the sudden tangle of choices and consequences.

Your breath came in shallow bursts as you pressed harder against Marlene’s wound, the tremor in your hands betraying the fear you fought to suppress. The air thickened with the weight of what was unfolding around you, a moment too vast, too unpredictable to fully comprehend.