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Radio stations were abandoned decades ago. That didn’t affect their day-to-day lives, unless it enabled them to communicate with each other on deserted frequencies.
It just made car rides really awkward. And really silent.
They were an hour and a half into their drive when Ellie fell asleep. Joel couldn’t have cared less, he was busy driving. They’d been lucky with Infected, riding on mostly empty streets. The few Infected they did come across, they were able to drive past without difficulty.
Two hours later, a few minutes after Joel passed a sign with Hurley written on it in faded paint and half-scuffed out letters, Ellie stirred.
She cleared her throat as she stretched out her arms, trying to soothe the roughness in her voice and the ache in her limbs.
Joel kept his eyes on the road, scanning the horizon for disturbances. He glanced at her from his peripheral vision, mostly unbothered by her silent presence.
Until she wasn’t silent anymore.
She wiped her nose with the back of her hand as she sniffed. Then, about four seconds later, she did it again.
Pulling his glance from the road, Joel shot her a look of annoyance. “Blow your nose.”
Ellie stared at him with a look of incredulity and offense. She cleared her throat again before firing back. “Do you see any tissues?”
“There’s gotta be somethin’ you can use beside snifflin’,” he grumbled, readjusting his grip on the steering wheel.
“Want me to blow my snot into your shirt?” she offered, her tone mocking. “Because that’s about the only option I have.”
“You do that and you won’t have a nose to blow anymore,” Joel threatened, his head snapping towards her instantly. “Got it?”
Ellie raised her hands in mock-surrender. “Aye-aye, Captain.”
They fell into near-silence once more, the hum of their truck punctuated by Ellie’s runny nose and painful throat.
An hour passed with Ellie dozing uncomfortably, shifting in her fitful sleep. She started shivering as she rested, goosebumps peppering her arms and legs. Waking up disoriented with a pounding behind her eyes, the rocking of the truck did nothing to help the nausea growing in her gut.
“Stop the truck,” she managed to mumble, her hands pressing into her temples to relieve the pressure.
“What? We’ve got hours left to go, kid–”
“Joel. Stop the fucking truck.”
Reluctantly, Joel pulled over to the side of the road. He draped his arm behind his seat, glaring at Ellie, unimpressed and irritated. “The longer we wait here, the–”
He was cut off in his aggravated reprimands by Ellie slamming the door closed. It was followed immediately by the unmistakable sound of retching.
“Shit,” Joel swore, walking around the truck to Ellie’s side. “Kid?”
“‘M a little busy,” Ellie spat, coughing weakly as she wrapped her arms around her midsection. “Try again later. Leave a message at the–”
“Ellie,” Joel called out, a hand coming to rest on her shoulder. He frowned at the heat he could feel through her shirt. “You’ve got a fever.”
“That would explain the overwhelmingly shitty feeling,” Ellie mused, wiping at the corners of her mouth with her sleeve.
“Are you done?”
“Being a pain in your ass? Thought you’d given up on me, already.”
“Throwing up,” Joel stressed, sighing heavily.
Ellie couldn’t help but laugh at Joel’s exasperation. She nodded through her feverish chuckles, letting herself be led back into the truck by Joel’s steady hand.
He situated himself in the driver’s seat and started them back on the road. He kept stealing glances at Ellie from the driver’s seat, his eyes shifting quickly to her, staying there to observe her for long seconds before dragging back to the horizon.
After a third violent shiver shook Ellie’s frame, Joel huffed exaggeratedly as he shrugged off his jacket. He had to twist awkwardly in his seat to keep one hand on the steering wheel at all times, but he managed to remove it.
Tossing it to Ellie, he was quick to add a contingency. “Don’t get comfy with that jacket. I’m not afraid of stealing from a little girl.”
Ellie hummed noncommittally in response, pulling the jacket over herself like a blanket. She curled in on herself, stifling a round of coughs in the crook of her elbow.
She was passed out before Joel had turned his gaze back to the road.
He ended up having to stop around nightfall to salvage gas from abandoned cars in a supermarket parking lot. He took the siphon from his bag in the backseat, and hesitated as he watched Ellie.
Resolving himself to checking on her between cars, Joel closed the door gently not to rouse her. He knew the fastest way to get rid of an illness was to sleep it off. If he kept waking her up, she’d never overcome it, and they’d be vulnerable for longer than strictly necessary.
Joel had tapped a fourth car, filling nearly his whole tank when Ellie came to.
“How long was I out?” she asked when Joel sat back behind the wheel.
“I look like a clock to you?”
“Grandfather clock, maybe,” Ellie muttered under her breath. Her low volume didn’t stop the tumble of coughs that rattled her lungs. She pressed a palm to the dashboard, keeping herself upright as she coughed roughly into her fist.
Joel stared at her with an unveiled look of disgust, waiting until the fit had subsided before speaking. “Pass me your arm.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m gonna check your pulse,” Joel pressed, none the more pleased than she was.
“Like that’s gonna tell you anything,” Ellie scoffed. She crossed her arms, turning her back to Joel, facing the window. “I’m not dying, or whatever.”
“Ellie.” He spoke with his authoritative voice. The one he used when shit hit the fan, when Clickers made themselves known or Runners spotted them from across a field. The one that didn’t show he was worried, but that he only used when she could feel the anxiety radiating off him.
“Fine,” she huffed, extending her arm in his direction, flipping him off as she did so.
“Real mature.” Joel pressed two fingers to her wrist, searching for her heartbeat. “Count fifteen seconds.”
Ellie turned to face him then, her face pulled into confusion and disbelief. “Are you serious, right now?”
“You’re the one who loves to point out that my watch is broken,” he snapped. “Count to fifteen. Or is that too high? FEDRA didn’t teach you?”
“Fuck off,” she said, trying to pull her arm back from his grip.
“Ellie! Stay still, and count. It ain’t that hard.”
Ellie sighed. Loudly. Forcefully.
“Out loud or in my head?” she asked, keeping her voice as far from petulant as she could with the violent headache pounding in her skull.
“How would I know when you got to fifteen if you counted in your head?” Joel asked flatly.
“Because I would fucking tell you!” Ellie shouted, her voice ringing loudly in her head. She covered one ear with her free hand, wishing desperately that Joel would leave her alone.
Taking a breath to stop himself from shouting back, Joel spoke quietly to direct her. “Start countin’.”
Fifteen seconds later, Ellie indicated the end of her timer. “Time’s up, motherfucker.”
“Twenty-four,” he told her with an irritated roll of his eyes, closing them to complete the math in his head. “96. A little fast.”
He released her wrist, turning to the backseat to rummage through his backpack.
“What now?” Ellie asked, though it came out more like a whine. She just wanted to sleep and avoid anymore painfully useless interactions with the man who didn’t give a fuck about her.
“Now, you drink this water,” he instructed, pulling a bottle from his pack and handing it to her. “And you get some rest.”
Normally she would’ve fought him on being told to sit and wait, but she didn’t have the energy nor the willpower to put up a petty fight. She brought her legs up to her chest,
“Night,” she found herself saying.
“G’night,” he found himself replying.
Joel drove through the night. He would’ve stopped to sleep, but Ellie wouldn’t have been able to keep a lookout, and he didn’t trust the environment to be safe.
The sun was barely peeking over the horizon, painting Joel’s view with tones of orange and gold. He hummed to himself, needing a distraction from the deafening silence the Outbreak brought with it.
“You’re an awful singer.”
“You’re an ungrateful kid,” Joel bit back without any real heat. “Didn’t like the beauty sleep?”
“Seems like you need it more than I do,” Ellie returned, rubbing at her eyes with her fists.
“Still sick?”
“Less,” she assured. She definitely felt tired and run-down, but there wasn’t a constant pain like there had been before. Her throat was more bearable, and despite the congestion in her sinuses, her nose wasn’t running. “It’s a win in my book.”
“Gotta take ‘em wherever you find ‘em,” he added, sending her a glance. He looked back at the road just in time to see them roll past the Pittsburgh sign.
“Tommy!” Joel yelled, busting through the door with his shoulder. He was running; panting and moving blindly as he crossed Jackson by foot.
Maria saw him first, immediately standing up from her seat in the church as Joel nearly took the door off its hinges. “Joel–?”
“Where’s Tommy?” he asked, cutting off whatever question Maria had on the tip of her tongue.
“He went out on patrol, I–”
“Fuck!” Joel yelled at no one in particular. He glanced down at Ellie in his arms, unconscious and absolutely terrifying in her stillness. “She’s sick, or– Maybe she’s hurt. I don’t– I don’t know.”
“Lay her down,” Maria ordered, clearing a table with one swipe of her arm. “Gently– There you go.”
“She wouldn’t answer the door when I knocked, and I knew she was inside– I knew it,” Joel spewed, panic rising quickly as he spoke. “I found her asleep, but she wouldn’t wake up. She’s got one hell of a fever, and I didn’t know what to do–”
“Go get a thermometer,” Maria said, knowing he’d only be a nuisance unless he had a task to do. She took in Ellie’s disheveled appearance, her sunken eyes and eerily flushed skin, accented with bright red patches on her cheeks. “They’ve got one in the daycare. Go.”
“I can’t leave her, Maria,” Joel countered, his feet planted firmly in the floor. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
Maria huffed indignantly, her frustration evident. “Then I’ll get the fucking thermometer. Get a damp rag and start to cool her down,” she instructed, already halfway to the doors.
Alone in the church with nothing but Ellie’s wheezing breaths to keep him company, Joel could do nothing but spiral. He floundered looking for a rag, then hastily soaked it, ringing it out over his shoes as he stormed back towards the girl.
He stroked it gently across her forehead, whispering what he hoped to be reassurances. “You’re okay, babygirl. I’ve got you. You’re gonna be just fine, promise.”
What Joel expected to be Maria’s hurried footsteps leading to the church turned out to be Tommy’s. He opened the doors, nearly as panicked as Joel had been when he’d left Ellie’s house.
“What happened?” he asked immediately, taking large strides to make it to Joel’s side in seconds.
“I don’t fucking know. She was fine last night, she was fine,” Joel repeated, looking first at Ellie, then at Tommy.
Tommy took Ellie’s hand in his, swearing at the contact. “Shit. She’s burnin’ up.”
Looking desperately at Tommy, Joel thought he was drowning. He needed help, he needed guidance. He needed somebody to tell him what the fuck to do. “What do I do?”
Tommy seemed affronted at the question, taking a step back and challenging Joel instantly. “How the fuck should I know?! You’re the one who had a kid!”
And, boy, was that the wrong thing to say.
“I am not breaking another promise to my kids,” Joel said, low and assured. “Ellie is not dying. Not on my watch.”
Tommy bit his tongue that time. “I saw Maria runnin’ East, she told me to get in here.”
Joel kept his focus on Ellie, running the cool rag across her cheeks and down to her neck. “You’re alright, kiddo.”
Finding himself useful in holding Ellie’s hand, Tommy ran his thumb across her knuckles. “She’s strong,” he told Joel, though his eyes rested on the girl. “She’ll pull through.”
Maria finally came back with a thermometer in hand, jogging up to them as fast as she could after a sprint across town. Gently sliding it beneath Ellie’s tongue, all three of them waited anxiously for the verdict.
In the expectant silence of the church, the beep of the thermometer echoed with finality.
Glancing at it first, Maria reacted before either of the others knew what was going on.
“Fuck,” she swore loudly, already in action to get more rags.
“What?” Tommy asked, watching his wife storm off, then turning to his brother. “What’s it say?”
“104.3,” Joel breathed, the words nearly never making it past his throat. “That’s–”
“Bad,” Tommy finished. His hand stilled in Ellie’s, taking note for the first time of the beat fluttering beneath her skin. “Jesus, her heart is racin’.”
Maria raced back into the room with half a dozen damp rags, placing them on both of Ellie’s wrists, one on her forehead, another on her neck, and two underneath her arms. “What was she doing yesterday?”
“She was fine yesterday,” Joel insisted, taking up Tommy’s task of holding Ellie’s hand.
“What did she do?” Maria pressed, putting her hands together in front of her.
“We went out on patrol,” Tommy answered, confusion lacing his features. “We took Callus n’ Shimmer out to Elk Creek.”
“How long were you out?” Maria urged, taking a step towards her husband. “All afternoon? In the sun?”
With his brows pulled together, Tommy nodded unsurely. “From… maybe, one to six? We had a lotta ground to cover.”
“For fuck’s sake–”
A groan of pain from Ellie shut them all up instantly.
“Hey. Hey, whoa, there,” Joel hushed the girl, grabbing at her wrists as her arms shot out in front of her. “You’re okay, sweetheart. We’re helpin’ you."
“Joel– M’ head hurts like a bitch,” Ellie whined, shrinking in on herself. “Make it– stop.”
“Jesus Christ, she’s having a fucking heatstroke,” Maria gasped, her conclusion nearly accusatory. “The rags won’t be enough, we need to get her in a bath. Right fucking now. ”
Joel was already standing before Maria had finished her sentence. He leaned over and slid his arms beneath Ellie's knees and back, lifting her with little more than a grunt.
“What are y’all waitin’ for?” he called over his shoulder, a few steps short of the church’s threshold.
The trek to their house was fucking agony. Every step that jostled Ellie, even only slightly, made her cry out. “I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry,” Joel repeated for the hundredth time, finally turning the corner onto Rancher Street.
Tommy had passed them, running easily with nothing to feel guilty for hurting. He was in the process of boiling water, then cooling it with cold water in an effort to make a lukewarm bath.
Joel thought the gravel roads were the most painful part of his journey with Ellie cradled in his arms. He was proven wrong when he had to climb a flight of stairs, every step making the girl wail. Joel was just about ready to take a bullet instead of hearing her weep.
By the time he made it to the upstairs bathroom, Tommy was satisfied with the water’s temperature. “Should cool her down without shockin’ her system,” he reported, wary of Maria’s warnings.
Kneeling on the floor by the bathtub, Joel tried to prepare Ellie as succinctly as he could. “Sweetheart, it’s not gonna be fun, but we’ve gotta get you in the tub.”
“Wh– But, I’m clean,” Ellie promised, her eyes glossed over and gaze distant.
“I know, honey. It’s gonna be okay. I’m right here.” He put her feet in the water first, to which she barely reacted. He couldn’t tell if that was a good sign or bad.
He tipped her back, setting her down but moving a hand to the back of her neck to support her head. “There you go, darlin’.”
Tommy sat on the edge of the tub, dunking the tip of a washcloth in the water before running it on Ellie’s forehead.
Neither of them was sure when Ellie passed out, but she woke with a start a couple hours later. She bolt upright in the bathtub, sending water splashing on the wall, and both men in the room.
“Shit–” Tommy swore, standing up as he rubbed at the water marks on his shirt. “I really like this shirt.”
“Ellie?” Joel asked, his eyes round and disbelieving as he watched her take in her surroundings.
“...Why am I in a bath?”
Joel pressed the back of his hand to Ellie’s forehead so quickly he might’ve slapped her. “Oh thank fuck,” he sighed in relief: she didn’t feel warm at all. He leaned back and wiped an exhausted hand down his face.
“Tommy?” Ellie questioned when Joel failed to answer her question. “Why am I in Joel’s bath?”
The man dropped his shirt, reality seemingly clicking into place as he realized that Ellie was awake, and talking, and not in any tremendous amount of pain. “Jesus Christ, kid! You can’t fuckin’ do that anymore!”
He clutched a hand to his heart, sitting on the floor as he caught his breath dramatically.
Ellie looked around helplessly, her confusion increased tenfold. “What the fuck happened?”
“You had a heatstroke, kiddo,” Joel supplied, grabbing a towel from the rack and handing to Ellie as she stood. “Nearly melted my bathtub.”
“That’ll teach you not to buy such an ugly tub,” she ribbed, wrapping the towel around herself despite the soaked clothes that kept her wet.
Joel held a hand out for her to take, carefully stepping out of the water and onto the tiled flooring. She sat on the lip of the tub where Tommy was before, Joel sat beside her.
“I really had a heatstroke?” Ellie asked gingerly, almost disbelieving.
“Yeah. Almost gave me a heart attack when I couldn’t wake you this mornin’.”
“Sorry,” she apologized, her voice so quiet Joel wouldn't have heard her if he hadn't been so desperate for her voice. “Do we know what happened?”
“That’a be because of us,” Tommy responded, one hand going up. “Summer sun ain’t always fun. We stayed out too long. Took a toll on you, kid.”
“But you’re fine,” Ellie accused Tommy, her tone flat.
“That I am,” he replied, victorious, shrugging it off as a regular occurrence.
“That’s not fucking fair,” she complained, dropping the towel from her shoulders. “You’re, like, a senior citizen. Weak, frail body.”
“Oh yeah? Well his,” he pointed to Joel, “‘weak, frail body’ carried you across town. Twice.”
“You did what?” she asked, a smile pulling dangerously at the corners of her lips.
Joel glared at Tommy, his tone unimpressed as he replied dismissively. “I think it’s time for you to head home. Maria’s probably worried sick.”
“Oh shit–” Tommy exclaimed, having forgotten about her in the commotion. He escaped in a hurry, leaving Ellie and Joel alone, sitting side by side on the rim of his bathtub.
“You pulled some superhero shit?” Ellie asked, the laugh plain in her voice.
“Who said I wasn’t a superhero?”
Ellie faked her reflection, rubbing at her chin as though she were combing through a beard. “Hmm… Tommy, Maria, Eugene, Buckley–”
“Buckley? The dog?” Joel repeated incredulously.
“What can I say? Word travels fast.”
“‘Fast’ does not mean it’s gonna suddenly be understandable by an animal,” he protested, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Don’t worry about it. Talking to animals is my superpower.”