Chapter Text
mirelune - grief that only visits at night, when the world is silent and your guard is down
It must have been late summer. Ellie's judgement was off, maybe it was fall. She wasn't sure how long she had been gone. Was it 8 months? More? Less? She knew she left the farm the previous autumn, just as the grass began to dry out and the leaves began to fall. The seasons were different on the west coast, no snow.
The grass was fading again. Her head pounded from dehydration, having run out of water a few days back. When she had last seen a creek, Ellie figured she was close enough to Jackson and a refill was unnecessary, now her dry throat and pulsing brain nagged her for that judgement. Her pace was slow, weary from a trek across the country.
As the hot sun beat down on her peeling, red-stained skin, she placed her left hand over her eyes to cover the glare, seeing the town below the treeline of the mountain she had just stumbled down. Ellie flexed her hand, the nubs of what had been her forefingers still a deep maroon, scabbed over from the blood that had erupted when Abby's teeth ripped them off. She kept walking. Twenty minutes, forty, an hour. Once she saw that the walls of Jackson were fifty or so metres away, her pace picked up.
STOP - IDENTIFY YOURSELF BEFORE APPROACHING GATE
She scoffed at the sign, walking past. They knew who she was, they had to. What she did not consider however, was the fact that the last thing she could even call a shower was well over a week ago, pushing into two— in Idaho maybe. And she had a slight limp present as she trudged along the grass. To anyone at a distance, she could have passed for infected. A gunshot rang out, the loud bang rattling deep in Ellie's ears. Immediately, she felt a burning pain shoot through her right arm, starting at her shoulder and ending in her fingers. The sound that emitted from her was on she could not control, but it was very much human, which ceased the shooting. A voice echoed:
“Stop. Now!”
Maria. She could recognize the voice easily. Ellie’s left hand cupped the wound on her shoulder, feeling the warm blood as it trickled lazily out of the deep wound and down her arm. Wincing in pain, Ellie continued her approach– why would she stop? She dragged herself towards the gate even faster, finally reaching the walls, and looked up to the watch tower where she believed the shot came from.
There were a couple people stationed in the tower, including Maria, who looked down at her for a moment, a flicker of recognition on her face. “Ellie?”
“Yeah.” The words left as more of a groan than anything. Before she could even make sense of the entire situation —or who had shot her— the gates opened before her. The familiar view of Jackson did not bring her any sense of serenity, not that she had expected it to, but the guilt and anguish that crashed into her was more than she had envisioned. The large wooden doors behind her scraped along the ground as they closed behind her. Maria was already jogging towards Ellie, pulling her into a hug.
“Oh God,” the way she whispered lead Ellie to believe she may have been the one to put the bullet through her shoulder. She couldn't bring herself to care. She just stood as the arms surrounded her warmly.
“You’re safe. You’re alive,” Maria murmured against her head. “Let’s get you to the clinic.”
Ellie stayed quiet while the doctors worked. Her mind drifting off, thinking of Santa Barbara. She thought of how long she sat in the water after Abby left. How fragile she felt, how vulnerable. She hated how there was a rush of mercy within her when she saw that kid in the woman’s arms. Hated how her heart constricted when she realized that if she killed Abby in front of him, she would be no better than the woman she loathed.
Ellie hated that the girl has reminded her of Joel since the day she watched helplessly as that golf club came down on him, since she watched the red pool grow underneath his beaten body, screaming and pleading. She hated how she saw that protective look in Abby's eyes when she had that knife against the kid’s throat, the exact same look that never stopped being etched into Joel's face.
So now more than anything, she hated that Abby was no longer solely a reminder of his death, but also a reminder of how much the man cared for her. Which was almost worse. She breathed hard, salty tears streaming down her face, whether it be due to her thoughts or the needles poking at her, she couldn’t tell, it felt the same. She felt guilty. Guilty that Joel never knew she forgave him, and guilty for the destruction she caused after his death. She had lost track of how many lives she took over the past couple years. So of course she didn't talk, she ruminated instead.
Her bloodshot eyes stared at the white wall in front of her, unfocussed, thoughts continuing to wander. They reached who she had avoided thinking of most– the mere thought of her abandoning her family sent unparalleled levels of shame shooting through every vein in her worn-out body. Dina, JJ. Ellie had left one of the only people who had cared about her down to their bones, and she had left her alone to raise an infant.
Did Dina still consider Ellie his mother? Did she ever tell him about her? Ellie’s throat dried up again, a lump forming. This time, the tears threatened to leave her as a sob; a violent explosion rather than a quiet escape. She inhaled sharply, the sterile smell of the room invading her senses, bringing her back to reality as she attempted to prevent any sounds of sorrow from leaving her body.
She didn't know how long she sat in the cot. How long the alcohol-soaked cloth swirled around in the gape in her shoulder. How long she laid there while the needle pierced her raw skin, stitching it back together. But she knew Maria was now leading her down a street, Joel’s street.
“I can’t go back to–” Ellie’s voice cracked as the two of them passed his house.
“I know, kid.” Maria guided her further down the road to her own house, the worn out wood of the porch oddly welcoming as it groaned beneath her feet.
“You can stay as long as you need to.”
Ellie had somewhat hoped she could have been spared the humiliation of coming back home had she not completed what she set out to do. She had hoped that there was a good chance Abby would kill her, or she would succumb to the natural world. Yet, here she stood in the porcelain tub under warm water as it cascaded down her cut up body. She rubbed her skin raw, welcoming the sting. Thinking maybe if she scrubbed at it hard enough, the water could wash her away. Maybe it could wash away the regret, the guilt. Both were now collecting more and more deep within her gut.
She didn't sleep. Nor did she think she would ever experience a full night of peaceful rest again. Her mind wandered back to Dina, what if she just stayed holed up in this house forever? Then she wouldn’t burden anyone with her mind. A mind which refused to be quiet. The mind that refused to show her any image other than that woman carrying the child away from the beach. The mind that replayed the way Abby's body loomed over Joel’s as his blood pooled out from under him, and that final blow that smashed his skull in. The crunch of metal meeting bone. Her own scream.
The mind that replayed the way Dina’s face fell the night she left her. Over and over and over, and would likely do so until the day she died. She missed Dina, she missed JJ. Hot tears were falling down her cheeks again, and Ellie attempted to grasp the two fingers she used to hold for comfort. Her hand hit the sensitive tips of what used to be knuckles and she felt a wave of nausea begin to ball in her stomach.
Maybe she should have stayed out there. Maybe she shouldn't have come back. Jackson hadn’t truly felt like home in a while, not after Joel’s death. Every turn, every building or sign served as a reminder of him, of her own stubbornness and refusal to forgive. Nothing she had done in the past several months had changed anything. She still saw him on that cold concrete floor every time she closed her eyes, and the realization punched her in the gut. Hard.
It was all for nothing, she hadn’t even killed Abby.
Her thoughts were nowhere close to being at ease. If anything, they were further from it than they ever had been. She layed on the couch, the darkness of the night sky flooding into the room was now too much. It was abrupt, no warning. Panic set in, her stomach tight, chest heaving. Ellie buckled over the side of the couch, retching.
The living room was suddenly much too hot, pricking at her skin as her heart tried to leap out of her body through her throat. She rushed over to the kitchen, tears continuing their searing path down from her eyes, breath ragged and hands shaking as she ran them under cold water. It made her think of the ocean, it made her think of Abby’s sunken-in face below her and the way her own hands desperately squeezed against the girl's throat. It reminded her of how the salted water snuck its way into the scuffs along her knuckles, and the bitter pain that shot through her hands. Ellie winced at the memory.
The walls of the house began closing in, she was dizzy, something began to ring, someone began screaming. Was it her? She needed to get out of here. It felt like her heart was strangling itself, desperately trying to burst past her ribs. She was on the porch now, not quite sure how or when she made it outside. The breeze wrapped itself around her, wind whistling while her lungs turned to fire beneath her sternum. More retching, more coughing, and Ellie finally hurled, bending over the railing as her dinner leaves violently, splattering over the grass. The door behind her creaked.
Of course. She had woken Maria up.
“I’m sorry–” Ellie's voice cracked as she tried to wipe her face, rough fabric scratching her chin.
“Don’t you start apologizing,” Maria’s voice was soft, she looked at her with tenderness in her eyes, “I’m here if you need to talk to me, okay?” She gave Ellie’s arm a soft squeeze,
“Thanks,” Ellie attempted to smile, but her heart was still sporadic, her palms still sweating.
The two of them stayed standing in silence for a few minutes while the crickets chirped. She took lungfuls of the night air, quelling the nausea she had felt moments ago. As Maria began to head back into the house, Ellie’s voice broke that silence,
“Maria?”
“Yeah?”
“How long was I gone for?”
“‘Bout a week under a year.”
Ellie’s heart sank, chest getting hot. She hadn’t realize that much time had passed. JJ is almost two then, she almost said it out loud but her voice caught and came out as a strangled, shameful sound. Regret replaced her panic; a slow nod and a shaky breath came from her. Ellie still didn't sleep the rest of the night. Her eyes stayed closed, fluttering while her insides churned like gears and the moonlight shone on her skin through the window.
As the next few days passed, her routine became pitiful: get out of bed, scribble something down in her journal, attempt to draw something if she felt up to it. She usually ended up drawing those she missed most; Dina, JJ, Joel. No more Abby– she didn't dare consciously think of the girl. She still didn't sleep well, but she ate. At least she was eating.
The silence drew out, stretching through the kitchen and settling into the seams of the house with a buzz. She and Maria sat across from each other at the table, Ellie’s movements weary as though she could get in trouble for simply existing. It was now evident that Maria and Tommy had been apart since she had last talked to him— had he been on a long supply run, he would have been back by now.
Should she have gone to see him? Should she have left the four walls of this house? Probably, but she couldn't bear to meet the eyes of the man who gave her that final push last autumn, and admit to him her failure. So she stayed cooped up in the house, Maria’s words getting brushed off every time she began suggesting Ellie should leave the house and take a walk. The insistence began getting on Ellie’s nerves. The fourth day was when Maria mentioned them— Dina and JJ. She was sitting next to Ellie on the couch, an uncomfortable silence hugging the both of them, when she suggested that maybe Ellie should visit. And she finally snapped:
“I can’t go back to that fuckin’ farm!” Her voice strained; her eyes pink and watery, and lashes wet.
“They’re not at the farm,”
“What are you talking about?” A sniffle came from her, subtle panic setting in. “What happened to them? What the hell do you mean they’re not at the farm?” Ellie’s eyes widened, tears fell freely now. Her mind jumped to the worst conclusion possible: Dina forgot to lock the gate one night or the patrols missed something, infected got them, they turned. Were they in the cemetery?
“They came back into town, ‘bout six months ago.” Maria reached over, her hand giving Ellie’s tensed shoulder a soft squeeze before getting shrugged off. A sigh of relief came from Ellie, palms holding her face as she leaned against her legs. There was a sense of ease within her gut, but that meant—
“Does she know?” Ellie’s voice staggered, her throat drying up the same way it has every time she thought about her family. Could she even still call them such? “That I’m back? Have you told anyone?”
“Tommy knows—”
A small laugh bubbled up from Ellie, leaving as air through her nose and the faintest smile on her lips; “I didn’t think you guys were still on speaking terms.” Maria ignored the attempted joke, though she couldn't help the quick bloom of happiness at seeing Ellie’s personality poking through the wreck she had become.
“I’m sure there have been whispers floating around that you’re back, but Dina hasn’t asked me directly.” As much as it stung to hear, Ellie was not surprised. She knew Dina, knew how she operated. If anything, she was probably still mad at her –-the girl can hold a grudge. The couch groaned when Ellie stood up, hands falling heavy to her sides.
She needed weed. Dina would know where to go for that. Always had some on her. Had motherhood changed that? She had never noticed anything about that before she left, too trapped in her own head to focus on anything other than surviving.
“Just think about it, giving them a visit, okay?” Maria's voice pulled her out of her mind.
She just nodded, reluctant consideration ebbing inside her. She gave it a few days. Maria didn't push, but Ellie did finally leave the house a week and a half after her arrival. Just for a walk, something easy. When she stepped out of the door, the morning air was crisp and refreshing. The ground sounded cold as she walked, hands in her pockets, hair pulled into a low bun making her ears turn pink as the cool air hit them. She passed through the stalls. The butcher, the grocer. The daycare. Ellie craned her neck, trying to get a glimpse of the kids inside. If Dina went back to doing patrols, JJ should be in there, right? She saw a mop of dark hair, the kid looking around the same age he would be now. When the kid moved, she got a glimpse of his face—it wasn't him— and Ellie couldn't help the disappointment rushing through her as she moved on with her walk.
Without even trying, her legs carried her down to the cemetery. She found Joel and sat down on the patch of grass in front of the stone. She placed a hand in the cool grass, the dirt firm beneath her fingers. She inhaled, breath a bit shaky, and exhaled, causing a small cloud of condensation to form in front of her face as the warmth meets cold.
"I'm back. Made it out." Her voice cracking, the tombstone was more worn than the last time she saw it. "I didn't do it. I couldn't—" she felt her lungs constrict, that sandpaper-like feeling at the back of her throat that she knew all too well, "I think you would have preferred it that way anyways. That I didn't go through with it. She looked like you, God, she looked exactly like you. With that kid. I couldn't do it." Tears fell from her eyes yet again, she had lost track of the tears she had shed since being back.
She didn't say anything else, just sat quietly as the breeze picked up the orange tinted leaves around her. As the wind got stronger, her tears dried down and her nose got cold. Ellie wasn't certain, but she felt like someone was watching her, hearing a giggle and whisper. She couldn't bring herself to turn around immediately, but when she did look over her shoulder after a minute, she only saw a woman in the distance, and a small child in her arms. Ellie squinted, trying to get a better view. Was it wishful thinking that she hoped it was Dina? Maybe it was a sign that Ellie should go over to her place, that she should tell her she's back. Before she left, she found Jesse's grave, patting the stone as if it were his shoulder. More guilt pumped from her heart through her body as she remembered what she had said before her and Dina moved to the farm, when JJ was still a newborn. 'I'll look after them,' she had promised him.
A sigh fell from her lips, the disgust she had for herself heightening at the memory.
"I'm so sorry," she choked out, her voice quiet. She chewed on her lip, then her cheek, biting down on the flesh until there was a copper taste in her mouth. Ellie headed back to Maria's, passing Dina's place on the way there. Was she at her own house or at Robin's now? She stopped, gravel grinding against the bottom of her shoe as it twisted against the ground. She contemplated knocking —only for a moment— and decided against it. Whether it be from nerves or avoidance or both, she wasn't quite sure. All she knew is that she is not ready to see the face of the woman who's heart she shattered.
The walks became a part of her routine, every morning she ate breakfast, slow and in silence, and took the same path. Always peeking into the daycare in hopes to get a glimpse of JJ—she never did. Always ending at the cemetery sitting with Joel and Jesse. Always stopping for a brief moment just in front of Dina's house on the way back to Maria's, but never knocking. She kept her head down. Never answering a greeting from those around town. After the routine is in place for a couple weeks, she finally built up the courage to knock on Dina's door.
Her heart began to beat at a rate she swears it had never reached before, threatening to escape her body, to burst out of her chest. The steps up to the porch squeaked underneath her weight, her breathing unsteady. She felt the tremble in her fingers and tensed her hands in hopes to rid herself of the nerves. Ellie stood in front of the door for a few moments, it's cream paint peeling off from years of wear-and-tear. Her hand is still trembling when she pulled her fingers into a fist to knock at the door. The sound thuds when she raps at the wood.
"Just a second!" Dina's voice chimed through the door, and Ellie's heart sunk. She almost sounded the same, but there's a certain hollowness you would only recognize if you knew her well. Ellie shook her head, why did she think this was a good idea? Her palms began getting clammy. She felt twitchy, shifting her weight from one foot to another. She muttered under her breath, turning around to leave a couple times before realizing it's best she stay. Ellie brought her thumb up to her mouth, biting her nail—something she had found herself doing more often than before she lost her forefingers. The knob on the door began to turn, and Ellie's stomach flipped.
The hinges creaked as it swung open to Dina standing in the frame. Her hair was longer, she looked a bit older. She was still as beautiful as ever. Wearing a shirt Ellie doesn't recognize. Dina's breath caught at the sight of who stood on the other side of her door. The woman she mourned for months, the woman she believed to be dead. Her lips formed a tight line, and her brows furrowed as she looked at Ellie. Before Ellie got the chance to say anything, the door slammed closed, leaving her standing alone on the porch as the wind whistled around her.