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Smoke clung to the air like a thick, choking fog. Ellie stumbled against the wall, coughing violently, her hands and face slick with David’s blood. Her chest burned, lungs screaming for clean air, and every breath felt like shards of glass. Panic tore through her, hot and raw.
“Ellie!” Joel’s voice cut through the haze. He burst into the room, eyes scanning, heart hammering. He froze for a fraction of a second, taking in the scene: the blood, the smoke, the terror on her face and machete in her hand. She tried to speak, but only a ragged cough escaped. Tears streaked her soot-darkened cheeks. Joel closed the distance in two strides, gently but firmly cupping her face.
“Hey… hey, it’s okay, it’s me.” he soothed, scanning her quickly for injuries. Nothing deep, mostly scrapes, bruises, and the smudges of smoke and blood across her skin but he didn’t need a cut to know she was hurt. Her breathing was fast, shallow, desperate. Joel stripped off his jacket and wrapped it tightly around her, holding her close. “I got you, Ellie. I got you.” She leaned into him, trembling, sobbing, and coughing into his chest. The panic in her eyes made him grip her tighter.
“We’re getting out,” he said firmly. “You’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.” He maneuvered her toward the door, turning her head away from looking at what she has just done, protective hold, eyes darting to avoid the lingering smoke and debris. Every step was slow, careful, but purposeful. Outside, the air was cleaner, cool against her flushed face. She inhaled shakily, gasping for relief. Joel kept her wrapped in his jacket, murmuring reassurance as her cries quieted into soft hiccups. “You’re okay now, you’re okay. Just breathe… that’s it babygirl, I’m taking us home.”
The cabin smelled faintly of wood and damp blankets, but it was safe. Joel eased the door closed behind them and gently guided Ellie to the matress in the corner. She collapsed onto it, knees drawn to her chest, still trembling. Joel crouched beside her, careful not to crowd her space, and pulled a damp cloth from his pack.
“Ellie… I’m gonna help you get cleaned up, alright?” His voice was low, steady, trying to be calm for both of them. She shook her head, her hands clutching her knees, tears spilling over. “
I… I don’t feel okay…” she whispered, her voice breaking between hiccups. Joel didn’t push. He sat beside her, letting her sob into her hands for a moment before gently brushing some of the blood from her cheek with the damp cloth. She flinched at his touch, a sharp gasp escaping her lips.
“D-Don’t touch me.” she cried.
“Shhh… It’s okay” Joel murmured, slowing his movements, softening every motion. He wrapped his other hand lightly around her shoulder, giving her a little support without pressing.
“Just… let me, okay? I’m not gonna hurt you. I promise.” Ellie trembled against him, sniffing, trying to catch her breath. Slowly, hesitantly, she let him continue, letting the cloth glide over her skin. Joel moved with care, wiping away the blood in small, gentle strokes. When she flinched, he paused, murmured reassurances, and started again only when she gave the slightest nod. Her cries softened to quiet hiccups as he continued, talking to her in low, steady words.
“It’s alright… you’re safe… you’re safe now, Ellie. I got you. I got you.” He didn’t rush her, didn’t demand anything. He just stayed there, soft, patient, letting her feel the safety she so desperately needed. And though the memory of what happened in that fire still clung to her like smoke, Joel’s hands, his presence, and his voice became her anchor, slowly pulling her back to herself. When she finally relaxed, just slightly, he gave a small, comforting squeeze to her shoulder.
“See? You’re okay… you’re still here. I got you.” Joel pulled a worn blanket around Ellie, tucking her in gently on the small mattress.
She curled up tightly, her body still trembling, and buried her face into the fabric. For a few quiet moments, the cabin seemed safe—just the soft crackle of the fire and the distant hum of the world outside. But sleep didn’t bring peace. Shadows of fire, smoke, and David’s lifeless eyes crept into her mind. She jerked awake with a panicked gasp, eyes wide and wild. Her hands clutched at the blanket, nails digging into her palms, and her chest heaved. Joel was immediately at her side.
“Hey… hey, it’s okay, Ellie. I’m right here,” he murmured, sliding his arms around her in a protective hug.
She flinched at first, shaking violently against him, but he held her without pressing, letting her panic flow into the hug.
“It’s not real, just breathe...” he repeated softly, rocking her gently, letting his heartbeat, his warmth, become a steady anchor. Ellie’s breaths were jagged and frantic, but Joel didn’t let go. He whispered her name over and over, grounding her in the present, reminding her that she was alive, that she was safe, that he was here. Slowly, her sobs began to soften, panic giving way to exhaustion. She clung to him, trembling, her body finally succumbing to the weight of her terror and fatigue. Joel continued to hold her, murmuring reassurances, brushing her hair back from her sweat-slicked face. Finally, her trembling slowed. Her cries became quiet hiccups, and then, eventually, nothing but the soft, uneven rise and fall of her chest.
Exhaustion claimed her fully, and Joel stayed still, just holding her, letting her rest safely in his arms. For the first time since days, Ellie allowed herself to sleep—fragile, but protected, cradled in the presence of the one person she trusted above all else. And Joel stayed there, silently vowing to keep her safe, to be her anchor through whatever came next. Joel didn’t move, even after Ellie’s breathing finally steadied in his arms. He sat with his back against the wall, the blanket draped around them both, his chin resting lightly on the crown of her head. The fire had burned low, casting only faint orange light across the cabin walls, but he stayed awake, listening to every breath she took. When at last he felt her body go slack in true sleep, he shifted carefully, easing them both down onto the mattress.
he stirred once, mumbling something broken, but when he tightened his arm around her, she sighed and stilled again. Joel stretched out beside her, one arm still tucked around her shoulders, the other drawing the blanket higher to cocoon her small frame. He pressed his forehead gently against her hair.
“It’s alright now, baby girl,” he whispered, a softness in his voice he almost didn’t recognize. Joel lay there, keeping vigil even as his own exhaustion weighed heavy. For a long time, he simply watched her sleep—saw the faint furrow in her brow, the way her lashes clung to her tear-streaked cheeks. His chest tightened, both in sorrow for what she’d endured and in fierce relief that she was still here, still breathing. Eventually, his eyes closed too. Wrapped around her, feeling the rise and fall of her chest against his, Joel let the exhaustion take him. For the first time in days, they both slept—not alone, not afraid, but side by side, sharing warmth and safety on the worn mattress. And in that fragile peace, even if just for a night, they found rest together.
The light in the cabin was pale and cold when Ellie stirred. Her eyes blinked open slowly, heavy with sleep, her body still stiff from the tension of the night before. For a moment, she didn’t know where she was—her heart stuttered in her chest, panic threatening to rise. Then she turned her head, and Joel was there. He lay on his side, arm still draped protectively around her, his face softened in sleep. The lines of worry that always seemed etched into his brow were gentler now, his breathing steady and deep. His presence filled the space around her, grounding her like a heavy, warm weight against the shadows in her mind. Ellie stared at him quietly, hugging the blanket tighter to herself. A small tremor rippled through her—memories of fire and blood and David’s face flashing behind her eyes—but then Joel shifted slightly, pulling her closer even in sleep, and the tremor eased. She let out a shaky breath, eyes stinging again, but she didn’t cry this time. She just… watched him. The scruff on his jaw, the rise and fall of his chest, the way he unconsciously kept her near, like he needed her there as much as she needed him. Her fear dulled under the weight of his presence. She rested her forehead lightly against his arm, listening to his heartbeat through the silence. The warmth, the closeness, the safety—it lulled her back down. Slowly, she let her eyes close again, slipping into another doze. This time her sleep was lighter, calmer. Because Joel was there. And that was enough. Joel woke before the sun had fully risen, the dim gray light stretching thin across the cabin walls. For a moment, he lay still, listening. Ellie’s small breaths puffed softly against his arm, steady but faintly uneven, like the remnants of a restless night. He shifted slowly, careful not to wake her. His arm slipped free, but he tucked the blanket back around her shoulders, making sure she stayed warm. She stirred only slightly, clutching the fabric tighter, curling into its comfort. Joel let out a quiet breath of relief. She needed the rest. Moving quietly, he set a few things on the rickety table—some dried meat, the last of their canned beans, a bit of stale bread. Nothing special, but warm food would be better than nothing. He worked methodically, stoking the small fire until it caught, the gentle crackle filling the silence. The pan hissed softly as he warmed the beans, and Joel stirred them with slow, deliberate motions, the way one might tend to something fragile. He glanced back at the mattress now and then. Ellie hadn’t woken. Her face was half-buried in the blanket, brow furrowed even in sleep, but the tightness in her shoulders seemed to have eased. That was enough to make Joel’s chest unclench a little. When the food was ready, he set it aside to cool just slightly. He sat on the edge of the chair, elbows resting on his knees, watching her in the quiet glow of the fire. She looked so small like that, so young. His hand flexed as if he wanted to reach out, brush the hair from her face, but he kept still, giving her the space to breathe. Ellie’s eyes fluttered open to the faint smell of food. The firelight flickered across the cabin walls, casting long shadows that made the room feel warmer, safer somehow. Joel was sitting nearby, quietly stirring a small pan of beans on the fire. When he noticed her stirring, his face softened into a gentle smile.
“Morning, baby girl,” he said softly. “I made us some breakfast… thought you might be hungry.” Ellie blinked up at him, her stomach tightening at the sight of the food. She wanted to be hungry—wanted to eat—but as soon as the memory of David offering her that… that meat flashed in her mind, her stomach roiled violently. She gagged, coughing into the blanket. Her hands clutched her stomach, eyes watering. Joel was instantly crouched at her side, moving carefully so as not to startle her.
“Hey, hey… it’s alright,” he murmured, tilting her gently so she could lean against him.
“Don’t worry about it, baby girl. You don’t have eat right now.” She shook her head, swallowing hard against the bile rising in her throat. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. Joel’s hand rested lightly on her back, rubbing in small, soothing circles.
“It’s okay… it’s okay,” he whispered. “You’re safe now. That’s all that matters. I’m right here.” He got her to sip a little water first, letting her breathe slowly between small, shallow sips.
“Just take your time. Ain’t nobody rushing you,” he said softly. His voice was steady, warm—like an anchor in the storm of her mind. Ellie leaned into him, trembling, her nausea slowly easing as she felt the steady reassurance of his presence. Joel didn’t push her to eat. He stayed beside her, murmuring gentle words, letting her know that her body, her stomach, her fear—all of it—was valid, and that she could heal at her own pace. After a while, she rested her head against his chest, still shaky, still scared, but calmed enough to relax a little. Joel pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, letting her know wordlessly that no matter what had happened, no matter what she remembered, she was safe, and she would not be forced into anything she wasn’t ready for.
Ellie sat huddled under the blanket, knees pulled close. Joel stayed beside her on the floor, one hand resting lightly on her back. He hadn’t pressed her to talk—he knew better than that. But after a long silence, Ellie’s voice broke through, fragile and low.
“I killed him.” Joel looked at her carefully, letting the words sit before answering. Ellie’s gaze was fixed on the floor, her hands twisting the blanket tight. “I killed David.” Her breath hitched, a sob caught in her throat.
“He—he was gonna—” Her words faltered, tears burning at the corners of her eyes. “I had to, Joel. I had to. I couldn’t stop… I just kept hitting him and hitting him—” Joel’s chest ached. He reached out slowly, brushing her hair back, his touch careful.
“Ellie,” he said softly, “you don’t gotta explain yourself to me, you did what you had to survive.” Her hands trembled harder.
“But I feel so… so dirty. Like I’ll never get it off me. I can still see him, Joel. Every time I close my eyes.” He pulled her gently against his chest, cradling the back of her head. “
You hear me?” His voice was steady, soft but firm. “You did what you had to. That man… he wasn’t gonna stop. You fought for your life, Ellie. And you won.” Joel's heart ached for the sight of her.
Ellie shook, sobbing into his shirt, but Joel just held her, rocking slightly, his cheek resting against her hair. “Ain’t nothin’ about what happened your fault,” he whispered.
“Nothin’.” After a while, when her tears slowed, Joel pulled back and tilted her enough to study her pale face. His worry sharpened—she hadn’t eaten in two days. Her face twisted slightly, lips pressed together, still a bit nauseaus. Her cheeks drained of color, eyes glossy and wide with discomfort, and a shiver ran through her small frame. She pressed a trembling hand against her mouth, fighting to keep from gagging.
“Ellie, baby girl… I know it’s hard, but you gotta try somethin’ for your stomach. Just a little, for me. You’re too weak. It'll make you feel better.” She hesitated, her stomach twisting at the thought. But when Joel brought over the bowl of beans, she gave him a small nod. He spooned a little into her hand, not pushing, just waiting. Slowly, trembling, Ellie brought a small bite to her lips. She gagged at first, eyes watering, but Joel rubbed her back, murmuring,
“Easy… just breathe.” She forced it down, and Joel gave her a small, encouraging smile. “That’s it. You’re doing great. Just a little at a time.” He stayed with her, patient, until she managed a few more bites. Enough that some color returned to her cheeks. His relief was almost overwhelming, though he hid it behind a steady expression. When she finally set the bowl aside, exhausted, Ellie’s eyes flicked to his stomach.
“Joel… your wound. How is it?” He froze, surprised. Then he let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head.
“Ain’t half as bad as it was Thanks to you.” She reached out tentatively, pressing her palm lightly against the area where he’d been stabbed weeks before. “I thought you were gonna die,” she whispered. “I had to take care of you. I didn’t know what I was doing, but… I tried.” Joel covered her hand with his.
“Ellie… you saved me. If it weren’t for you… I wouldn’t be here.” His voice cracked, just a little. “You did more for me than you’ll ever know.” She blinked at him, her lip trembling, then looked away quickly. But Joel tilted her chin up, gentle but insistent, meeting her eyes.
“We got each other through this,” he said. “Both of us. Don’t you ever forget that.” Ellie pressed closer into his side, resting her head against him. For the first time since David, her body truly eased. Joel kept one arm around her, rubbing small circles on her back, his other hand still covering hers over his stomach wound—two survivors holding on to the truth that, somehow, they’d made it through together. The cabin was quiet by evening, the fire burning softly, casting a steady warmth across the walls. Outside, the wind pressed faintly against the shutters, but inside, it was still—safe. Joel sat propped against the wall with Ellie curled beside him under the blanket. She’d managed to eat a little more, enough to keep her feel better, and now her head rested against his chest, her breathing slow and even. He smoothed her hair back gently, his touch tender. For the first time in a long time, Joel didn’t feel like he had to keep moving, keep fighting. He just… sat. Sat with the weight of her small body pressed against him, alive, breathing, here. Ellie shifted slightly, mumbling drowsily,
“I’m glad you’re here, Joel…” Her voice was soft, almost too faint to catch. Joel swallowed hard, his throat tight. He pressed his lips to the top of her head, whispering,
“I ain’t goin’ anywhere, baby girl.” The words settled in his chest, warm and certain.
For years, Joel had wandered with no anchor, his heart hollowed out. But now—holding Ellie, feeling the trust she’d given him despite everything—they filled the empty spaces. She was more than cargo. More than responsibility. She was his. His second chance. His purpose. Joel tightened his arm around her, letting his cheek rest against her hair. He didn’t need to say anything else. Just being there, holding her safe, was enough. The fire popped softly, the blanket rustled as Ellie shifted closer, and Joel closed his eyes. For the first time in twenty years, he let himself rest—not just his body, but his heart. And together, they breathed in the quiet, no longer alone