ᖭི༏ᖫྀ 🌿🏹

━ CHAPTER TWENTY ONE ...
' future days, part. 1 '

"I SWEAR."

      IT'S BEEN FIVE YEARS. FIVE LONG YEARS SINCE THAT PROMISE JOEL MADE TO HER WAS BROKEN. FIVE YEARS SINCE EVERYTHING HAS CHANGED. BETWEEN THEM, BETWEEN ELLIE AND HER, AND HERSELF. Things have been different even since then, ever since they came back to where Tommy lived, in Jackson, where they were welcomed into their town with open arms.

      Yet (Y/N) felt out of place in the town that let her call it home. She never really felt like she did fit in, with how quickly she was changing. That once go happy giddy feeling for Joel had disappeared, but the longing and yearning was still there, for the both of them.

      She kept her distance from him ever since the day they arrived at Jackson, but even so, those feelings she felt for him never went away. They never would, she knew that. And she also knew that he felt the same way also, but still respected her and didn't push his luck.

      Ellie, however, was a different matter entirely. That was her sister, the one person whom she thought would always be honest with her. But (Y/N) guessed not. She couldn't keep that much of a distance from her, as the older Williams was always worrying about Ellie, but there was a rift between them, both could feel it.

      It wasn't the same like it was before, and the trio had no idea how to fix it. Not if no one wanted to talk it out, especially (Y/N) and Joel, the towns so called 'star couple' even though they were far off from that. Really, really far from it.

        Currently, half of the trio was inside a barn.

    The barn smelled like hay, sweat, and dust — a strangely comforting combination that reminded (Y/N) of better times, if such a thing existed anymore. The morning light cut through the cracks in the wooden slats, golden rays streaking across the straw-covered floor. But the warmth outside didn't touch the cold brewing in her chest.

     Her knuckles throbbed—split and raw from repeated contact. A slow trickle of blood ran from her nose, drying in a crust just above her lip. She wiped it away with the back of her hand, smearing it across her cheek without much thought.

     "Again," She rasped, her voice hoarse from exertion, but firm, as she nodded her head rapidly, "Go again, I can take it."

      The man standing opposite her, another patrolman in Jackson who volunteered for sparring, hesitated. He was breathing hard too, chest rising and falling beneath a sweat-damp shirt, a wary look crossing his face.

     On the sidelines, Jesse shifted uncomfortably, arms crossed over his chest as he exchanged another glance with Ellie, "She's gonna kill the poor guy," Jesse muttered under his breath.

     Ellie didn't answer. Her brows were pinched in worry, watching her sister with the same nervousness she always did these days. (Y/N) wasn't the same girl who walked into Jackson five years ago.

     There was something unhinged now, not reckless, just... intense. Always walking the tightrope between silence and violence. She wasn't unpredictable in action, but in emotion. Bottled up. Isolated.

        Especially since Joel.

      Her hair was longer now, falling around her face in wild waves with a fringe that shadowed her eyes. A tattoo peeked out from beneath the neckline of her tank top, curling over her collarbone in a delicate design that almost looked out of place on someone so hardened. It meant something, though only Ellie might have known what.

    The male stepped forward again, fists raised. (Y/N)'s stance mirrored his—loose but deliberate, and her eyes never wavered. If anything, they narrowed down more on him.

     He struck first, and she ducked, narrow inches from his fist grazing her cheek. She twisted and aimed a sharp kick to the side of his thigh. He grunted, but caught her leg before she could pull it back.

      "Shit," She hissed not expecting that as he yanked on her cargo pants covered leg, pulling her off balance.

      She toppled backward with a shout, hitting the ground hard enough to knock the air from her lungs. Straw puffed around her in a dusty halo, but she didn't stay down. She never did. Her body was a litany of aches and bruises, but she was used to pain. It was simpler than emotion. Cleaner.

     Gritting her teeth, she coughed and sprang back up before he could capitalize, her hands already up, "C'mon," She taunted, smirking even through the blood, "That all you got?"

      With a snarl of effort, the man came at her again, but this time she was ready. She ducked under his swing and pivoted, slipping behind him and wrapping her arms around his. In one fluid movement, she yanked it behind his back in a practiced twist and pinned him face-down in the straw, her knee pressing hard into his spine.

     He shouted in pain, free hand slapping the floor, "Alright! Tap, tap, I tap out!"

     Jesse's voice rang out sharply soon after seeing she wasn't moving nor letting go of the male, "That's enough!"

      (Y/N) blinked and the haze lifted. Her breathing slowed, the adrenaline still humming under her skin like a drug she couldn't quite shake. She glanced down at the man beneath her, the pain etched on his face, and for a second... she hesitated.

     Then she smiled. A wide, almost wolfish grin like none of that had happened. She patted his back as if she hadn't nearly dislocated his shoulder, "Good match," She said lightly, standing and brushing straw off her legs.

      Ellie watched her sister wipe blood from her face again and laugh softly, as if she wasn't broken in a dozen invisible ways. As if there wasn't a gaping wound in her chest carved out by the one man who claimed to love her enough to save her... by lying to her.

     "You know, when someone says they've had enough, it means enough." Jesse's voice brought the attention back onto him, as he was leaning against the barn's pillar and talking to (Y/N), who grabbed the jacket from him he was holding for her.

     She rolled her eyes, and brushed off Ellie's hands from touching her sore nose, "I was in the moment, what can I say?" She replied bluntly, and turned her gaze to the male she fought behind her, "You punch really hard too, wow. My nose will be feeling that for days, you know?"

     "I pulled it." He grunted out, breathing heavily to catch his breath as he cradled his sore shoulder that she pulled on, sat on a bucket inside the barn also.

     She pulled a face hearing that information, giving him an incredulous glare and directed it back to Jesse, who answered her unsaid question, "Yeah, he pulled it. I told him to do so."

     Ellie shuffled in her spot from beside Jesse, watching her sister's face form into a harsher glare, something she's seen more on her face then ever since living in Jackson. She knew her anger and all that rage was valid, but she wished she would talk about it, if not with her -- someone else.

     "That's bullshit. You know I can take a few punches or two," (Y/N) argued with her voice raised, and slipped on her brown jacket over her long sleeve tank top, "That isn't the reason why, and you know it Jess."

    The male sighed heavily, and share a look with Ellie who shrugged nervously not helping him at all, "Well, I don't want to have to explain to Joel why his girl is half beaten up or why she's almost killed a guy, now do I?"

     As soon as those words left his mouth, her face turned blank and her eyes looked expressionless then ever. She scoffed, and tucked her hands into her jackets pocket, "Do that shit again and I won't be happy. I don't need his permission."

     Ellie sucked in a sharp breath through her mouth, and shot Jesse a look who raised his hands in surrender, "Come, we need to clean the blood off before you go out (N/N)." She talked to her sister softly, and guided her to the bucket of water that had a cloth to use.

      Jesse watched them with a small smile, and shrugged on his jacket next swiftly since it was cold outside, "Are you going to that thing tonight?" He asked the older one this, knowing Ellie was probably going to go with a certain other female in their group.

     (Y/N) snorted amused at the question, and thanked Ellie with a soft squeeze to her shoulder as she wiped the blood off her skin, "I mean I don't want to go, but I feel like we have to right? Community and all that crap?"

     He released a small chuckle, lips forming into a smirk that flashed his perfect teeth, "Oh? You're part of the community now? Not stuck in your own still?" He asked out loud, looking back to the other male in the room who chuckled also, but stopped seeing her deadpanning glare, "Seriously, though, if you are, we could use an extra pair of hands breaking down firewood for the cookout."

      She pulled back from Ellie who was almost finished cleaning the blood of, but (Y/N) had other plans. She turned to face Jesse and gave him a sharp look, that made him nervously shuffle in his spot, "Don't get your hopes up."

     And then she was moving towards the barns door, leaving her sister and their new friend behind to share another stressed glance with one another.

     The cold bit at her cheeks the second she pushed open the barn doors, the warmth of the sparring match stripped away by the mountain wind that swept through Jackson like it owned the place. The sun was beginning to dip below the tree line, casting long shadows over the snow-dusted ground as the towns people worked all around her.

     (Y/N) exhaled, steam curling past her lips as she zipped up her thick jacket to her chin. Her hands, still aching from the fight, disappeared into her sleeves, and she pulled the beanie snug over her head — one that didn't belong to her. It was Joel's.

      A faded thing, dark gray and slightly too big, but comforting in ways she refused to acknowledge. It had been sitting on the edge of a table one morning last winter, and she'd taken it before patrol, pretending she didn't realize it was his. Pretending she hadn't kept it since.

       She didn't expect to see him. But there he was.

      Leaning against the side of the barn with his arms crossed, boots planted in the snow, and his eyes locked on the door like he knew she'd be coming out next. Maybe he had, Joel always had a way of knowing where she'd be before she even got there.

     His expression was unreadable, but seeing the worried glint made her stomach clench. She froze, half-shielded by the open barn door, breath catching in her throat. Her heart gave a slow, traitorous thump.

     Joel straightened a little at the sound of her footsteps crunching over gravel and snow. His gaze flicked to the beanie, and then back to her eyes. A long beat passed between them, filled only with the distant howling of wind through the pine trees and the creak of the barn settling behind her.

     He'd been watching, too. From the gap in the barn, unnoticed by most. Half-hidden in the shadows, arms folded across his broad chest, his jaw tight. He'd been trying for months — hell, years — to bridge the distance she'd put between them. She never pushed him away outright, but the silence she gave him was sharper than any knife.

     She still hadn't forgiven him, even if she understood his reasoning. But the ache hadn't dulled. It had only gotten worse with time. Because even in her silence, her feelings for him didn't die. If anything, they rooted deeper and twisted into something fierce and aching.

    As she rolled her shoulders and shook out the tension in her arms, her eyes flickered toward to him again. That damn way he looked at her—like she was both his salvation and his sin.

      And then, as quickly as it had come, she turned her back to him and continued on her walking like nothing happened between them. It was better this way, she thought as she tucked her hands in her pockets, better to keep my distance.

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      THE MOUTAIN WAS SHARPER UP THERE -- SLICING THROUGH THE LAYERS OF WOOL AND DENIM AND NESTLING INTO THE SEAMS OF HER JACKET LIKE IT BELONGED THERE. The snow hadn't fallen since last night, but the ground was crusted with it, crunched down beneath boots and boots before those. The forest below was quiet, unnervingly so, aside from the occasional guttural screech of a clicker echoing off the trees.

     (Y/N) was flat on her stomach, shotgun propped against her shoulder, breath held as she lined up her next shot. Her finger curled around the trigger with practiced ease. The weight of the weapon, the grip, even the scuff on the barrel — all of it reminded her of Joel. He'd spent hours fixing it for her when she first got to Jackson.

Said if she was going to carry a gun instead of she broken bow, it ought to be one that felt right in her hands. Now it did, like an extension of her.

     She squeezed, and a clicker's head snapped back, the body crumpling into the snow, twitching once before falling still.

    "Damn," Tommy muttered beside her. He was lying next to her, slightly behind, watching the carnage through a pair of binoculars, "You really are one of the best shots we got."

     She didn't respond. Just reloaded, eyes narrowing, scanning the tree line again. Another infected staggered out from behind a cluster of rocks, limbs jerky and uncoordinated.

     "There's a cluster of 'em up by the road," Tommy told her, looking through the object he had to try and spot them, "One's broken away, you see him?"

        "I see it."

      Another breath. Another squeeze. And down went the Clicker, the sound of the gunshot echoing through the mountain around them.

    He gave a low whistle and chuckled, "You make it look easy. If I didn't know better, I'd say Joel taught you that."

     Her eye twitched at the mention, but she didn't say anything — didn't have to. The silence spoke for her, as she gripped the weapon in her hand more, suddenly feeling like the object didn't belong to her.

      He adjusted the binoculars and kept scanning, "Five years ago, you couldn't even shoulder a rifle right. Now look at you. Hell, if I didn't know it was you shootin', I'd think we had a goddamn sniper up here."

     (Y/N) smirked faintly, and glanced at him over her shoulder, as she pulled back the snipper from her eye, "Maybe you do."

      Tommy snorted amused, and shot her a grin also, "Ain't complainin'."

     They stayed like that for a while longer. She shot. He spotted. The infected kept coming, but not for long. Her aim was precise. Clean. Each shot met its mark — head, throat, chest — whatever would stop the thing before it got too far into the trees. The clearing was littered now with corpses, limbs twisted in the snow.

     "There's a lot of them out there," She muttered once she finished her shot on the infected, and reloaded the gun with another bullet, "getting too close for comfort."

     He nodded in agreement, and hummed lowly, "Yeah, I noticed. Probably followin' down Route 89." He answered, pulling the binoculars down from his brown eyes, "Maybe comin' outta Alphine.

     She only furrowed her brows in response, before Tommy gently tapped her arm, and sat up, brushing snow off his arms, "We should head back. Next scout run's headin' out soon."

    (Y/N)'s head perked up at that, hope flickering in her eyes, and stared at Tommy with a smirk, "Good. I'm on that run."

     He stood to his full height and looked down at her, sighing, as he began to pack up their stuff into their bags, "Yeah... no, you're not."

      She frowned confused, sitting up slowly on the mat below her, the shotgun still across her lap, "The hell you mean?"

       "You're on gate watch this time. Sorry, kid."

     Her brows drew down hard, heat flaring in her chest, and stood up suddenly, the sniper slanged around her shoulders, "Tommy—Ellie and Dina are on that run. My girls. I should be going with them."

     Tommy didn't flinch, but his voice softened slightly, as he bent down to fold up the mat she was laying on and placed it back into her bag, "I know. But orders came down earlier."

     She scoffed with an eye roll, and slipped on her bag around her shoulders, as she crossed her arms over her chest, "What, from Maria?"

      At this, he hesitated to answer. She instantly knew who it was from the look on his face, "...Joel." She realized bitterly.

     Tommy scratched the back of his neck and gave a sheepish look, as they walked side by side, "He's just worried, that's all. After what you pulled last week running off all on your own—"

      "What I pulled?" She snapped, standing up now, brushing the snow off her pants with a rough motion, "You mean the part where I singlehandedly took down six infected in the storm when my partner ran off scared?"

     Tommy held up a hand, stopping her from ranting and raising her voice at him, "I'm not sayin' you didn't do good work. You did. You always do. But Joel... he's got his reasons. You know he does."

     She bit the inside of her cheek, jaw tight, "I'm not a kid," She muttered bitterly, just as they arrived at their horses, and her horse, Bambi, rubbed his snout against her cheek in greeting, "I'm an adult, Tommy. He can't be telling me what I can and can't do."

          "Never said you were."

        "Then stop letting him treat me like one."

    Tommy's face was unreadable for a moment, but there was a flicker of sympathy in his eyes, "He ain't treatin' you like a kid, (Y/N). He's treatin' you like someone he... can't stand the idea of losing."

     That made her go quiet. The words hit low in her gut — familiar and sharp, "He needs to back off," She said after a moment, voice quieter now, "I can take care of myself."

     "I know that," Tommy answered softly, placing his bag on the horse's saddle and adjusted the rest of their supplies on it, "So does he. That don't mean he's gonna stop worryin'. That's not how Joel works. I've been dealin' with him my whole life. Sometimes, easier to just go along."

     She looked out at the treeline, where the corpses of the infected lay twisted and cooling in the snow. The cold settled in again, brushing up her spine and nestling under the layers she wore. She pulled Joel's beanie lower on her head without thinking.

     "He's not gonna stop," She whispered more so to herself, before raising her eyebrows up at the male knowingly, "But also, we should be least worried about me when it comes to infected. I mean, it's not like I can turn--"

      Tommy gave her a long look, and turned around sharply to interrupt her, "Hey, no. You swore, and so did Ellie. We don't talk about that." He reminder the younger woman, "You of all people should know how dangerous it is to talk about it, (Y/N)."

      She deadpanned at him, and raised her arms in the air to motion to the environment around them, "We are miles away from any living thing. No one is gonna hear what we are saying, Tommy." She said, before dropping her arms and placed her bag on Bambi's back, "Even if I shouted out that I was immune, no one would even hear us. I could even try that out right now--"

      "No! No, no--" He frantically stopped her before she could yell, and grabbed her by the shoulders gently, shaking his head in disbelief, "I swear, you and my brother? Literally made for each other. You're the same goddamn fuckin' person."

     She ignored the way his words about Joel made her heart flip, and instead smirked up at him smugly, "Well, if we're the same person, you know you ain't winning this." She dragged her words out, "Put me on the patrol. I'm going anyway with or without your permission, but I thought I'd ask for the sake of my wellbeing."

      Tommy shakes his head knowingly, and gave her another long look before sighing, "Alpine run leaves at 1300." He told her after a second of thinking, as he hoped onto his horse to lead them back, "Now, you follow the rules unlike last time. You obey your captain. No questions, no exceptions."

     (Y/N) gives Bambi a rub under his chin making him grunt softly, and she grab the reins of the saddle to swing herself on, "Once again, you sound like my dad giving me a run down." She complained before sending Tommy a smile, "I understand, don't worry. I'll do it by the book... hopefully."

     The expression on his face after her words made the woman laugh loudly, something only a very few got to hear through those past few years. Tommy only grumbled to himself, and slowed down so their horses could walk together, as they continue on the path they came to where their town was.

     And speaking of Jackson, currently Joel was in one of his therapy meetings with Gail, who was use to his ways from the amount of times he had come to see her. The room smelled faintly of cedarwood and something floral — lavender, maybe.

      The lounge beneath Joel creaked slightly as he shifted his weight, hands folded in his lap, knuckles white where they gripped each other too tightly.

Gail sat across from him, legs crossed, as she scribbled in a well-worn notebook. She didn't speak often — not unless she needed to. She didn't need to. Joel usually filled the silence himself, even when he didn't want to.

          Today was no different.

     "She's different now," He said after a while, voice low and gravelly, like it hurt to say it out loud. His eyes stared somewhere past the bookshelf on the far wall, unfocused, "Used to be she'd light up a room just by walkin' in. Smart. Tough. Had this way of makin' you feel like everything was gonna be alright, even when the world was fallin' apart."

     He ran a hand over his older but still handsome face, stopping to rub the back of his neck, "Now she don't even look at me."

    Gail nodded slowly, resting her pen against her notebook, "She's distancing herself."

     "Yeah." His jaw clenched, and released a heavy exhale from his parted lips, "From me. From Ellie, too. She's always off somewhere, training, patrollin', doin' whatever she can to stay busy. I try to talk to her, even just say her name, and she shuts down. Like I'm not even there. Sometimes I think she wants to forget I am."

    There was a pause. The clock on the shelf ticked faintly, and it gave Gail the chance to ask him something, "Have you asked her why?" She said gently.

     Joel scoffed, bitter, "She won't talk to me. Hell, half the time I don't think she even wants to. I say something, she says two words back. Maybe three. Then she's gone. Out the damn door like I'm a ghost."

     Gail leaned back slightly in her chair, "And what do you think changed, Joel?"

    He didn't answer at first. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, looking down at the worn knees of his jeans. His fingers twitched, "...I don't know," he muttered.

     Gail tilted her head, voice growing soft, "I said the thing I'm afraid to say, it's your turn now."

     His jaw ticked again. That tight, stubborn part of him wanted to say nothing — to keep it buried like he always did. But something about Gail, about this room, made it harder to hide, and it made matters worse when her expression didn't change, but her pen didn't move either.

     "She stopped lookin' at me the way she used to. And I can't blame her. I just..." He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands rubbing together like he could warm them on the friction, "I just want her back. The one who made this place feel like... like home." He trailed off, the silence thick with regret. His voice broke again, softer this time, "But she's gone."

      "She's not gone," Gail corrected gently, kindly, "She's hurt."

      Joel swallowed thickly and looked away, "I've been tryin'," He breathed out, shaking his head slowly, "I've been fixin' up her shotgun, her bow, makin' sure it's still clean, works right. She uses it. I know she knows I've touched it. But she never says nothin'. Never thanks me. And I don't expect her to — that's not what it's about. I just..." He stopped himself and looked down, hand going to the chain around his neck.

      From beneath his shirt, he pulled out a small dog tag. It was old, scratched up, the metal dulled by time and wear, "She used to wear it," Joel murmured lowly, "Back when we were movin' across the country. Said it was for protection. Said it reminded her of who she was, where she came from."

      He thumbed the edge of it carefully, like it might break in his hands, "I was given this before I... found her again. I been wearin' it ever since. Don't feel right without her near me somehow. And, now I-I just..."

      Gail was quiet for a long moment. Her voice, when it came, was soft but firm, "I can help you. Say it out loud, not matter what it is. No matter how bad. I promise, I will help." She paused and gave him a stronger look, "Did you do something to her?"

     Joel looked up at her, and for the first time that day, his eyes were glassy. His fingers clenched around the dog tag, as his bottom lip trembles and only gave her a slight nod of his head.

       "Did you hurt her?"

     He shakes his head frantically this time, and finds the strength to answer with his voice, which was hoarse and worn, "No, no."

     "Then, what?" Gail pressed for answers, seeing she was getting somewhere from how emotional he was getting, "What did you do?"

      Joel looked like he was going to break for a second, as his face was an expression of defeat and guilt, until that formed into darker, blank look and he suddenly stood up from the couch.

A lone tear falls free from his eye and it runs down his cheek, "I saved her."

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❪ ✏️ ❫ 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳𝚂 : 4593
─►☆ AUTHOR'S NOTE :
ohhh we are SOOO BACKK guys im so excited for this fic to be back again, it feels so good to be back and writing for it. i haven't touched
this since 2023 and it feels like coming home to me 🥹 i don't know if any of you can notice but my writing and style has changed a lot since then so im also excited for you all to see what i have planned 😼🙏🏻

fearful for whats to come but trust me guys i won't let you all down as i love joel more the  anything and this fic WILL treat him right, just trust the process i swear

anywayss you all know the drill, vote,
comment, ect <33💋