Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

PART I: HEALING

Chapter 1: Echoes of the Past

Ellie

The porch steps creaked under Ellie’s weight, just like they always had, but somehow they sounded louder now, more hollow even. The air smelled like old wood and rot. The kind of smell that stuck in your clothes, in your lungs, everywhere. She stood at the front door for a long time, maybe minutes or even hours, fingers hovering over the handle like it might burn her if she touched it. It didn’t.

She took one last final breath and pushed it open. The hinges groaned in protest. Dust particles floated in the stale light, swirling through the living room like ghosts too tired to scare anybody, even her. Everything was still there, just like she remembered like no time had passed at all. The mismatched couch with the sunken cushion. The blanket JJ used to drag around like a cape. The baby swing in the corner, folded and leaning against the wall, collecting cobwebs like some ancient artifact.

Her boots thudded across the hardwood floor. She walked slowly, like if she moved too fast, something would break. Maybe even her if she wasn’t careful enough.

In the corner of the living room, a toy dinosaur laid on its side. Its tail was chewed up. Ellie knelt down and picked it up, her thumb tracing the faded plastic. She remembered JJ throwing it across the room, laughing so hard until he hiccupped. That laugh. It echoed in her head like it had been waiting for her. A message left only for her. 

Ellie then found her eyes drifting to the kitchen table where it was still scratched from that time they tried to carve pumpkins. The sink in the next door kitchen dripped once. Then again. And again. The sound felt like a gunshot in the silence. It might as well be after all the hurt and pain she had caused. 

I hope one day you can forgive me, Dina.

Ellie stepped into the hallway and stopped. Her heart rate skyrocketed while also being frozen in time. 

A photo frame laid face down on the floor. She already knew exactly which one it was. She crouched and turned it over. The glass was cracked in three places, spiderwebbed across Dina’s face. Ellie’s smile was still there though. Dina had her arm around her, grinning like the camera didn’t scare her anymore. JJ had a thick coat of purple jam smeared on his cheeks and hands.

Ellie fell to the floor, frame in her lap as she clutched onto it for dear life. She tried to swallow but her throat was tight. It was like her body wasn’t her own anymore. 

Running her hands through her hair, she finally looked up and saw the bedroom door down the hall was still open. That room—hell, this house—didn’t feel like hers anymore. She felt like an outsider, invading someone else’s life. It felt like a grave. She stepped in anyway.

The bed was stripped, the mattress bare, with one side still slightly indented, like a person had never bothered to rise as if they were still sleeping at that very moment. A thin layer of dust covered the nightstand next to it, settling into the grain of the wood like ash in a campfire after the fire had been put out. The window was still cracked open just a sliver, letting in the Fall breeze that barely stirred the curtains, but carried a whisper from so far away and distant place.

Ellie turned. Joel’s guitar leaned against the far wall, untouched as if waiting for her.

That image hit her like a large punch to the ribs. The sight of it—the dark wood, the worn strap, the chipped finish at the base where Joel had once knocked it into a corner while filled with laughter—it destroyed her. The last time she played it, her fingers actually worked. The last time she played it, Joel wasn’t a memory but something she could still touch. Something she could still smile at. 

Her mind flashed. 

"Come on, just this chord right here," Joel had said, fingers guiding hers. "You're close, kiddo. You almost got it."

Ellie had hated how easily he smiled when she got it wrong, like it didn’t matter. Like just trying was enough. If she knew what was to come, maybe it would have been enough for her too.

"You don't gotta be perfect, kiddo. You just gotta feel it.”

Ellie wiped away angrily at the tears that had started to form. 

"You keep that thing with you, yeah? Even long after I'm gone."

She had. But it didn’t feel like his voice anymore. Eliie could only hear the silence.

Despite everything, she walked toward it, her boots heavy against the floorboards. Kneeling beside it, she reached out, then stopped just short, her hand hovering like it wasn’t hers to touch. Like she wasn’t worthy to even look at it. Her breath trembled. Her chest ached.

Then she picked it up, slowly, like it might fall apart if she moved too fast or made any sudden movements. It felt heavier than she remembered. Hollow and full all at once.

Ellie sank down onto the floor, cross-legged, holding it like it was a person. Like a fragile newborn baby. Her fingers moved and ran across the strings. The buzz of the E string scraped against her nerves. She tried a simple chord. Her pinky, the one she lost, wouldn’t obey.

The sound that came out wasn’t music. Not like she had played before. Not like Joel had played countless times for her. It was a whimper. A reminder. A curse.

She tried again. And again.

Ellie tried playing until her shoulders shook and the strings blurred through hot tears she didn’t want to release. Until she couldn’t keep the sob inside her chest any longer.

She gritted her teeth, repositioned her hand, and tried to strum a chord she used to play for JJ when he couldn’t sleep. It came out broken. Wrong.

The guitar slid from her lap like it was done with her too. Like everyone else. Like Dina. And it was all her fault.

Her breath caught, chest heaving. She pushed her palms into her eyes, as if she could press the tears back in like they were never there. But they came anyway like a flood. Hot, angry, silent.

She curled forward, forehead resting against her knees. The floor beneath her creaked. Wind rattled the loose shutters outside. Everything felt cold all of the sudden.

Minutes passed. Maybe hours. It could have even been days. She didn’t move.

When Ellie finally stood, she didn’t bother to pick up the guitar. She didn’t even take one last look. It was clear that the guitar would only play for one person. And that person was long gone and away from this world.

Downstairs again, Ellie paused in the living room. She looked around, taking in every little detail. It all felt smaller now. Even smaller than when she first arrived a few minutes ago. Like the house had shrunk when they left. Or maybe she had.

Ellie opened the back door. The wind was sharp and dry. The barn stood mocking her in the distance, its roof sagging slightly more than before. The fields were wild and overgrown after the months of being abandoned. The fence was mostly intact, but one section had collapsed under the weight of time or weather. Or maybe both.

She walked out to the field. The sun was setting, a smear of orange across the sky. Her boots crunched through the tall grass. She stopped by the fence, placing a scared hand on the splintered wood.

Something moved in the distance. A deer, maybe. Infected? Or maybe it was just the wind.

Ellie took in a long breath. Then she let it out slowly.

“I was wrong,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I thought revenge would fix it. I thought… I could feel whole again.”

She didn’t expect an answer. The farm didn’t have one. The wind wouldn’t answer her either.

Ellie clenched her jaw. She turned back toward the house, eyes scanning the roof, the porch, the broken window on the second floor. This wasn’t home anymore. Not without them. Like so many other places in the world, it was nothing more than an abandoned building that held remnants of a time long forgotten. 

She didn’t know what she was expecting to find when she came here. Closure? Redemption? Forgiveness?

Instead, all she found was dust.

Back inside, she grabbed the only things she had brought with her—a canteen, her switchblade, and a worn backpack with barely anything in it. If she didn’t make it back home soon, surely she would die out here. 

Ellie paused at the door, glancing over her shoulder one last time.

“It’s time I go back,” she said aloud. To the walls. To the ghosts. But most importantly, to herself. “To home. To Jackson.”

Ellie stepped out into the dusk and shut the door behind her.

This time, it didn’t creak.

Dina

The cold settled into Dina’s bones like it was personal. She shifted her rifle on her shoulder, boots thudding softly against the mixture of steel and wooden wall planks as she paced her section of the north perimeter. The moon was high, casting a silver glow across the distant trees and farmland. Everything was still. Too still for her liking at least. The kind of stillness that made your fingers twitch and your stomach coil, even if there wasn’t anything out there. At least not yet.

Dina paused at the edge of the lookout tower, squinting into the shadows beyond the treeline as if she could see anything. The wind rustled the tall grass below her. A faint howl in the distance—probably a dog or wolf of some kind. Probably.

Her breath fogged the air whenever she exhaled. Dina rubbed her gloved hands together, more out of habit than need. The cold wasn’t what bothered her. Nor was it the Infected that plagued the surrounding woods. It was someone else entirely. 

And that someone was Ellie Williams. 

Dina cursed at herself and shook her head. She tried to free herself, but no matter how hard she tried, she never could. Ellie was always there. Of course she fucking was.

It had been months. And she still didn’t know. She didn’t know anything. How could she?

She leaned against the railing, fingers curled tight around a steel beam. Everyone had their own version or story of what happened after Ellie left the farm. After she had left her. Some said she died in California. Others said she ran off to the Fireflies. Some said she got infected and turned. Dina would always chuckle at this. Only if they really knew. But deep down Dina worried about something more. Something worse.

Some said it was better that way.

Dina swallowed hard and blinked against the sting in her eyes. She hated all the energy and room Ellie still took, even though the girl had disappeared now months ago. Dina’s jacket rustled as she pulled something from her inside pocket—a crumpled piece of paper folded four times over. JJ’s drawing. Stick figures. Three of them. One with a guitar. One with curls. One with a big smiley face and the letters "JJ" scribbled and barely legible.

She didn’t even know why she brought it tonight.

Because you never stopped hoping.

"You look like you're gonna jump off the damn wall," a voice said casually behind her.

Dina turned, finding Cat approaching with that usual crooked smirk, a mug of coffee in her free hand. She wore a thick scarf and a coat that looked two sizes too big, most likely borrowed from the lost-and-found pile.

"Don’t tempt me," Dina muttered, though her lips twitched with the beginnings of a smirk.

Cat leaned against the post beside her. "Figured I’d come keep you company. Patrol shift sucks alone. Especially on the wall."

"I’m fine."

"Clearly," Cat said, taking a sip. "Staring at the woods like they insulted your mom. That totally screams fine to me."

Dina rolled her eyes but didn’t respond. She used to hate Cat—thought the girl was all mouth and no sense, too flippant, too smug. But it had never really been that. Had it? She knew it always came down to Ellie. Dina hated to admit it even now but she had been jealous. Over the past couple months, however, the girl had somehow wormed her way in like a weed through cracked concrete. She was loyal. Brave. But still annoying as hell.

And lately, not so bad to have around. But Dina would never tell her that. 

"You ever gonna tell me what’s always got you looking like someone shot your dog?"

"Nope," Dina said, but not unkindly. “Not a chance.”

Cat snorted. "Figures."

They stood in silence a moment longer, the cold, autumn biting but still bearable.

Then a shout came from the gate, breaking the quiet like glass underfoot.

"Open it! Move, move! We’ve got a live one! She’s barely hanging on!"

Dina jerked her head up, already moving. She slung her rifle and sprinted along the wall, her boots pounding, leaving a wake behind her.

Voices rose in confusion. Someone cursed. It felt as if the entire town was waking. Maybe it was. Then the bell rang. 

She reached the gate in time to see two patrol riders dismount their horses, dragging a limp, small body off the back of a horse. Blood soaked the girl’s sleeve. Hell, it was everywhere. Her head lolled to the side, dark hair matted to her face.

Dina’s breath caught.

No. It couldn’t be.

But the shape—the narrow shoulders, the too-thin frame. The way her legs bent at the knee. The scar above the brow. She knew that body like the back of her own hand.

"Ellie?" she whispered, already pushing through the crowd. This couldn’t be real, right? This had to be some weird dream. No, it was a nightmare. Her heart slammed against her chest. 

The girl didn’t respond.

Dina didn’t wait for permission. She grabbed one of the patrolmen by the arm. "Where did you find her?"

"North ridge. She was crawling away from a pile of infected. There were so many of them. I can’t believe she took out all of them by herself. We didn’t think she’d make it back."

Dina didn’t hear the rest. She didn’t hear Cat calling her name. She was already sprinting toward the infirmary.

*****

The town nurses and doctors working that night had just started cutting away the ruined sleeve when Dina burst through the door, her heart slamming against her ribs so loud it drowned out everything else. The scent of alcohol, blood, and antiseptic hit her like a wave, thick and metallic, curling around her throat like a fist.

For a split second, she couldn’t breathe.

The room tilted. Or maybe she did. The only thing anchoring her was the sight of Ellie on that table—pale, battered beyond recognition, half-alive. A broken thing barely held together.

Dina’s boots stuck slightly on the blood-slick floor as she moved across the room, her breath shallow, muscles trembling. She didn’t care that people were shouting. She didn’t care that her hands were shaking. All she could think was: She came back. She actually came back.

And this was how. And now she might lose her all over again.

"Get out of the way!" she snapped, her voice cracking with something raw and sharp enough to cut. Her vision swam as she reached the table, gaze locked on Ellie’s bruised face, swollen eye, dirt-caked cheek. A scream clawed its way up her throat, but she forced it back down.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

The two doctors stepped back as Dina crossed to the table. Her boots stuck slightly on the blood-slick floor. Ellie laid motionless on the cot, face was covered in dirt and dried blood. Her lip was split. One eye nearly swollen shut.

Dina clenched her fist. She wasn’t angry at Ellie. She was angry at the infected who had tried to tear her apart until nothing was left of her. 

Dina stared. Her chest rose and fell too fast. She had no control over her own body anymore.

"God... Ellie."

She reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her face. Ellie didn’t react. Not even a sign of the slightest twitch.

She didn’t move. She looked dead to the world. She looked dead to Dina. 

Someone cleared their throat, their words unsteady and unsure. "There’s... a bite."

Dina turned sharply. "What?"

One of the doctors pointed, pulling back what was left of Ellie’s jacket. There it was. On her stomach. Clear as day.

It was fresh. It dug deep.

Dina took a step back, lips parting. The room erupted into chaos.

"She’s infected!"

"We have to act now."

"She’ll turn any minute!"

Hands went for weapons. A gun was raised. Another cocked.

Dina moved without thinking.

She stepped in front of Ellie, pulled her own pistol and aimed it squarely at the first guard who dared to get too close.

"Back. Off."

"Dina—"

"No," Dina snapped, eyes locked on the guard's finger twitching near the trigger. "She’s not sick. She’s not like them. She’s not like us."

"You don’t know that," someone else said, voice thin with fear.

"Yes, I do!" Dina’s voice cracked. "She’s immune. She always has been. Ask Maria. Ask Tommy. Hell, ask your own damn conscience. Look at her. She’s not turning."

The guard hesitated. But another voice piped up from the back—sharp, distrustful. "Sounds like bullshit to me. I’ve never heard of anyone being immune. You saying she’s special? That’s oddly convenient."

"You think I’d risk this town? My son? For a lie?" Dina snapped. Her finger tightened on the trigger. "You put that gun away or I swear to God… I will not hesitate to fucking kill you."

Another man tried to reason. "Protocol says—"

"Screw protocol! The rules don't cover her! She’s not like the others. She’s not infected."

They still didn’t believe her. She could see it in their eyes. The fear. The suspicion. The same kind they always had for Ellie. That she was different. Dangerous. A curse.

Dina saw a man raise his pistol behind the crowd.

Before she could react, the doors slammed open.

"What the hell is going on in here?"

Maria. Thank God. 

Tommy limped in behind her, eyes sweeping the room—first the drawn weapons, then the girl on the table—Ellie. His expression hardened. Without hesitation, he drew his revolver and stepped in front of Dina, planting himself like a wall beside her. His eyes locked on the man still aiming his gun at Ellie.

"Put it down," he growled, voice low but steel-edged. "Now."

The guard hesitated, then slowly lowered his weapon under Tommy's stare.

Tommy didn’t look at Dina, but his presence was a silent confirmation—he was with her no matter what, even if it killed him. Whatever this was, he wasn’t going to let it end with a bullet in Ellie’s chest.

It all became clear then. This wasn’t just a town matter anymore. This was family.

He glanced down at Ellie—bloodied, barely alive and unconscious, a shadow of the girl she once was—and something flickered behind his eyes. Regret. Fury. Grief. Maybe all three.

His voice came quiet but firm when he turned back and away from Ellie. "That girl’s not turning. I’d stake what little is left of me on it."

Maria took one look at Ellie on the table and Dina in the center of it all. Her eyes flashed.

"Everyone. Lower. Your. Weapons."

The silence was immediate. Reluctant. But real.

Dina was the last to lower her weapon.

She looked at both of them, confused. "You—"

Tommy gave a slow nod. "We’ve known for years. Since Joel told me. Then I told Maria."

Maria stepped closer to the cot, eyeing the fresh bite on Ellie’s stomach. "No fever. No black veins. She’s stable for now."

One of the doctors hesitated. "It... it doesn’t make sense. I don’t understand…"

"It doesn’t have to," Maria said. "All that matters is she’s not turning. And she’s not dying. Not on our watch."

She turned to the rest of the room, her voice an iron whip. "This stays in this room. You hear me? Anyone opens their mouth about what they saw tonight—and you’re gone. No trial. No council. Gone. Do you hear me?"

Uneasy nods followed. A few turned away.

“Or God forgive me for what I might do to each and every one of you.”

Dina felt her arms go limp at her sides. She moved back to Ellie, brushing hair from her forehead.

"You stupid, stubborn girl," she whispered. "You came back... and of course it had to be all dramatic. It always has to be with you, doesn’t it?"

Tommy murmured to Maria as they stepped aside, "If she’s back, things are gonna get complicated."

Maria’s face didn’t change. "They already have."

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: Joel’s Daughter

Tommy

Tommy sat like a statue in the straight-backed chair beside Ellie’s infirmary bed, his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped tight in front of him. He hadn’t moved in hours. The only sound in the room was the slow, mechanical rhythm of the old oxygen machine wheezing beside her. The light from the small bedside lamp cast long shadows on the far wall beside her. He kept the revolver on the table within reach, not because he expected trouble, but because it felt wrong to not have it.

If his brother was here, he would have had it.

Tommy could almost hear his brother's voice in the silence. That low, rough disappointment wrapped in gritted teeth. Not yelling—no, Joel never needed to yell when he was really mad. But that didn’t stop him from time to time. He'd just look at you like you'd broken something he trusted you to hold. And that one look was enough to break you for days. 

And Tommy had broken it.

He had been the one to ride out to the farm. He'd been the one to put those words and thoughts in Ellie's head. Not because it was right—but because he couldn't let go. Because he hadn't been strong enough to grieve without dragging someone else into it.

Ellie deserved better. She deserved better than him. 

The air had smelled like dry grass and woodsmoke that day. He remembered the weight of the saddle, the ache in his leg as he dismounted. The farmhouse looked like something out of another life—peaceful, almost warm. Dina had answered the door with JJ on her hip, her eyes narrowing the moment she saw him.

He hadn’t even asked if Ellie was home. He just walked in.

You owe him. God, what a cruel thing to say. If Joel had been alive to hear it, he'd have knocked Tommy on his ass. Probably more than once. He would tell  him to mind his own pain. To let Ellie live her life. The girl had already been to hell and back. She didn’t deserve what he did to her. 

But instead, Joel was now dead. His brother was now buried several feet under the earth outside of town. And Ellie was barely holding on. Tommy sat in the room, watching the consequences of his cowardice, wondering how the hell he ever thought he was honoring his brother.

He wasn’t. He’d betrayed everything Joel had tried to protect. Everything his brother had sacrificed himself for. 

Tommy ran a hand down his face and stared at the girl in the bed. Ellie’s face was pale, jaw bruised, bandages wrapped tight around her midsection while covering her recent Clicker bite. Her left hand was clenched slightly, twitching every so often like she was trying to fight even in her dreams.

His gaze drifted lower—and that’s when he saw it. Her left hand. Three fingers. That was all that remained.

Tommy's chest tightened. He hadn’t noticed it before—not in all the haze and chaos of her arrival the night before. But now, in the quiet, with the low hum of machines and the soft tap of rain against the window, it stood out like an open cut that would never close. In many ways it really was. 

What had she lost along with those fingers? What part of her had he helped break off?

Joel would’ve been furious.

Not just disappointed— furious . At him. At what he said. At how he’d let her carry a burden that Joel had spent years trying to keep from crushing her.

“She’s just a kid, Tommy.” He would say to him and during more than one occasion. “Let her be a kid.”  

Tommy swallowed hard. He wanted to look away but couldn't. The sight of her hand made it impossible to pretend any of this had just happened . It was proof. Of the choices that had been made. And there were always consequences.

His consequences.

“Kid…” he whispered, voice barely even a whisper. “Ellie. You should’ve stayed there. You should’ve stayed with her.”

But she hadn’t.

Because of him.

*****

People came and went over the next few days. Tommy didn’t. Not even once.

Maria brought him meals he barely touched. She sat with him in silence once, her hand resting gently on his shoulder, but he didn’t say anything and neither did she. She understood what was broken in him. She understood him more than anyone else ever could. She always had.

Cat showed up one morning, awkward and fidgety, carrying a clean set of clothes and a flask.

“You look like shit,” she said, half-grinning.

Tommy didn’t look up. He never looked up.

She left the clothes on the edge of the bed and walked out without another word.

JJ came bursting in on the second day, calling out for Ellie as he ran toward the bed. Dina rushed in behind him, scooping him up before he could climb on top of her.

“We talked about this, little man” she whispered to him, pressing a kiss to his head.

JJ looked back over her shoulder. “Sick?”

Tommy couldn’t answer. His throat closed up. The entire room was closing in from all around. 

Dina gave a small nod. “Yeah, baby. She’s just resting. Momma needs her rest so she can get all better.”

The two of them visited Ellie every day after that. Sometimes several times a day. JJ always brought something—a drawing, a button, a flower he had picked up on his way over. He left them on the windowsill beside Ellie like offerings to a goddess in a deep sleep.

Dina never said much. Not at first. But Tommy could feel the resentment boiling beneath the surface, rising every time she looked at him.

And one day the storm came. 

*****

The confrontation came on the fourth night.

The infirmary was dim. Rain tapped against the windows. Dina stood just inside the door, holding a tray of food. Her hair was damp from the walk over.

“You need to eat,” she said, setting the tray down next to him.

“I’m fine,” Tommy replied, not looking away from Ellie. How she still laid so still. 

Dina crossed her arms. “You think this makes things right?”

He blinked, surprised. “What?”

“Sitting here. Playing the ever so loyal uncle. You think this makes up for what you did? What you did to us? What you did to her?”

Tommy finally looked at her. Her face was flushed with frustration. The water no longer was boiling. It had overflown. Her jaw was clenched and set tight.

“Do you remember what you said to her?” she pressed, pointing to Eliie still dead to the world on the bed. “Back at the farm?”

He didn’t answer. Of course he did. How could he ever forget? 

“ ‘You owe him.’ ” Dina quoted, mockingly. “You pushed her out that door with that line. You knew all it would take were those few simple words. But you did it anyway. I watched you do it. Did you think I would ever forget?”

Tommy swallowed hard. “I remember.”

Not only did he remember, but those words followed him into his dreams every night. 

“She was happy,” Dina hissed. Angry tears fell from her face. “We were happy. She was finally healing. And you dragged her back into that god forsaken nightmare.”

Tommy rubbed his hand over his mouth. “I thought I was doing what Joel would’ve wanted.”

“Bullshit. Joel would’ve wanted her alive,” she said. “That’s all. That’s it. All Joel ever wanted was to see her alive and happy.”

The words cut deeper than she probably intended. Or maybe she knew exactly what she was doing. Tommy didn’t blame her for any of it. He deserved all of it. 

“You think I haven’t played it over a hundred times?” Tommy said quietly after a long moment of silence settling in between them. “I see her face every night. I see her everytime I think of Joel. I see yours. The moment she left, I knew I would hate myself forever. I didn’t come here to make things right, Dina. I came here because I can’t live with what I did.”

Dina’s expression faltered. For a second, her guard dropped. But she shook her head, turning toward the door.

“She needs someone who doesn’t leave when it gets hard,” she said. “Don’t pretend you didn’t.”

Tommy didn’t argue.

He just sat.

Forgive me, Joel. 

*****

The next morning, something changed.

Tommy was dozing in the chair, chin tucked into his chest, when he heard a small rustle. Then a groan.

His eyes snapped open.

Ellie’s hand twitched again. But this time, her fingers curled, and her lips parted.

“Ellie?”

She stirred, eyes fluttering open. Her gaze was glassy, unfocused.

“Hey,” he said softly, leaning in. “It’s alright. You’re safe.”

Her eyes blinked slowly. Then focused on him.

“Tommy?” she rasped.

Tommy’s throat closed. He took her hand in both of his.

“I’m sorry,” he said. He couldn’t hold it in anymore, especially after last night with Dina. “I’m so goddamn sorry. For everything. For the farm. For pushing you. For not being enough. For not being there for you. I should’ve let you be. I should’ve let you heal and live your life.”

Ellie stared at him, unreadable. Then she finally spoke.

“It was my choice,” she whispered. “I could have stayed but I chose to go anyway.”

He nodded, tears slipping down his cheeks. “I know. Doesn’t make it right though.”

She turned her head slightly, gaze drifting to the ceiling.

“You didn’t break me,” she murmured. “But you didn’t help me either.”

Tommy didn’t respond. There was nothing to say.

Then, the next words she said gutted him until there was nothing left. 

“I wish you’d left me in the woods.”

*****

The late morning sun bled through a hazy layer of clouds over Jackson as Tommy walked with slow, tired steps toward the infirmary. The town was quieter than usual—livestock already fed, morning chores done, kids off in the schoolhouse or daycare for the day. He held a chipped ceramic mug in his left hand, steam curling faintly from the lukewarm coffee inside. His limp was more pronounced today, but he didn’t mind. His mind was elsewhere. It was always somewhere else. 

He hadn’t slept much. How could he? Especially not after what Ellie said the night before. Those words never left him.

"I wish you’d left me in the woods."

Those few simple words played in his head like a broken record on repeat, each repetition scraping fresh skin off a wound until there was nothing left. Those words weren’t just regret. They were surrender. Ellie… she had given up on the world. 

Tommy hated himself for letting her say it. Hated himself more for not knowing what to say back. He had just let her lay there, letting the silence of the room speak for him. 

The infirmary door creaked open on dry hinges as he pushed through. The smell of rubbing alcohol and stale air hit him instantly. He nodded at one of the nurses on the way in, barely catching her name as she offered a polite smile and stepped out into the hallway. He had been getting to know all the doctors and nurses a lot more lately. Tommy moved toward the back, where Ellie had been kept since the day they brought her in. A day he thought he would never live to see. 

His grip tightened around the mug. His heart rate was already spiking while sweat misted over his forehead.  

The curtain around her bed was half-drawn. Only silence greeted him back. No rhythmic wheeze of the oxygen machine that had been running nonstop over the last four days. No soft snores or subtle breaths.

Just the hum of the ceiling fan spinning uselessly above an empty bed.

Tommy stared.

The sheets were crumpled in a pile at the foot of the bed, the blanket pushed aside. Ellie’s boots were gone from under the chair he had sat in for so many nights before. The small pile of things Maria had brought her—a comb, a cup, a clean shirt, a tray of morning breakfast—all sat untouched on the side table.

His stomach dropped. Cold spread across his chest, squeezing his ribs like a Bloater had grabbed hold of him, trying to tear him apart.

He turned in a slow circle, as if she might be crouched in the corner, just out of sight. Maybe she had just left to go to the bathroom. He was overreacting, right?

“Ellie?” he called out, voice hoarse.

Nothing.

He stepped back, nearly dropping the coffee as he fumbled to set it down on the table next to his chair. He moved fast through the hall, shouldering the door open, scanning the corridors and walkways. Scanning every corner she could be hiding in. 

Nothing. 

Tommy clenched his fist tight enough that he almost drew blood. He had failed her. He had failed Joe. Again. 

Those words came back, echoing all around him. 

"I wish you’d left me in the woods."

She said she wished we left her.

She meant it.

And now she was gone.

Dina

The small clinic smelled like sweat and boiled bandages. Dina stood over the sink, scrubbing her hands with too much force, her fingers red and raw from hot water and frustration. The late morning shift was almost always dull—patching up minor scrapes and bruises, replacing splints, checking on a sprained wrist or two. The real work didn’t start until sunset, when the fences got tested. When the patrols came in for the night. And someone always ended up bleeding.

She hated being here.

Not because the work was hard. She actually enjoyed working at the clinic on most days. The only thing she preferred more were patrols. But today it was because it kept her from Ellie.

She should’ve been at the infirmary. Watching. Waiting. Breathing with her. Telling her everything was going to be alright. 

But Maria had insisted she take a shift. "You can't spend every second in that room, Dina. She wouldn’t want that." Easy for Maria to say. She hadn’t spent the last two years learning how to stop loving someone and then thinking they had been dead for the last six months for them to suddenly be alive but hanging on by a thread.

Dina dried her hands roughly and pulled off her gloves, throwing them into the waste bin nearby.

You shouldn’t forgive her so easily, she thought, even if only for a brief moment. She left you. She left both of you.

But every time she tried to be angry, it came up empty. The anger didn’t stick. It evaporated into thin air the second she thought of Ellie’s face—pale, bruised, lips cracked from dehydration, yet still clinging to breath like it owed her something. Dina had imagined storming into that infirmary where she laid a dozen times. She imagined herself shouting or ignoring Ellie entirely, making her feel even a fraction of what it felt like to be left. But then Ellie would turn her head slightly in her sleep, or twitch like she was reliving it all again, and the rage would disappear even faster than it had started.

It wasn’t forgiveness. Not really. It was something else—this aching, stubborn thing that looked a lot like love and bled out into everything else. She wanted to be angry. God, she did. But what would it even change? Ellie had already punished herself worse than anyone else ever could.

And maybe that was the hardest part—knowing she didn’t need to punish Ellie. Because Ellie had never stopped punishing herself. Would she ever?

A voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Hey, Dina. Got another splinter kid in Room Two,” Cat called from down the hall.

Dina groaned, grabbed a fresh pair of gloves, and headed toward the exam room.

She never made it.

The front doors of the clinic bursted open with a loud crash.

It was Tommy. His face was pale, his eyes wide with panic. He looked like he’d been gut-punched and had just ran a marathon all at the same time.

Dina’s heart immediately started pounding. For a moment, the room felt too small, the walls too close. Her mind jumped to the worst—the image of Ellie lifeless body on that bed, her wrists still bloodied, her stomach still bleeding from the bite. It hit her like a blow to the chest, knocking the air clean out of her lungs.

She braced herself for the words that would follow, her knees already threatening to give out. She wasn’t ready to hear them, but she was sure they were coming. She was sure Tommy was about to say Ellie was dead.

“She’s gone,” he said, chest heaving. “Ellie’s gone.”

Dina’s face went white. She took a step back, shaking her head. Tommy instantly recognized his mistake. 

“No. Not like that. Her bed was empty. No boots, no jacket. Nothing.”

Dina felt her heart beat again but not by much. “Did anyone see her leave? Anyone at all? The nurses? The doctors?”

Tommy shook his head, running his hands through his hair. “No. She must’ve gone during the night or early this morning.”

“And you’re just now coming to tell me?”

He hesitated. That pause was everything. Dina knew there was something more to it. Something he wasn’t telling her. 

“What did she say to you last night?” Dina demanded, stepping toward him. “I know you were there. You are always there.”

Tommy had tears in his eyes. “She said... she said she wished we’d left her in the woods.”

Dina stared. Her heart shattered in a million pieces all over again.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me that?!” she shouted, her voice breaking under the weight of it. Her fists clenched at her sides, and for a moment, it looked like she might hit him—something, anything, to release what was building. “You should have come and gotten me last night.” 

She stepped even closer, eyes burning. “She’s Joel’s fucking daughter, Tommy.”

The words hung in the air. Even the birds or wind outside didn’t dare to speak. It was the first time she’d ever said it out loud. Not adopted. Not surrogate. Daughter.

Tommy recoiled like he’d been slapped. His breath caught, shoulders sagging.

“She was his girl,” Dina continued, quieter now but fiercer somehow. “And now she’s broken because we failed to protect her. Because you pushed her when she was trying to be okay. Because I let her walk away.”

Tommy’s lips parted, but he had nothing to offer. Nothing that would make it right.

“I thought she just needed time.”

Dina shoved past him, already tearing off her scrubs. “You should’ve told me the second she said it. Dammit, Tommy.”

“I’m sorry,” he muttered.

“Sorry doesn’t help if she’s out there bleeding somewhere, or worse. Infected aren’t the only things we have to worry about nowadays.”

Cat appeared in the doorway, eyebrows raised. “What the hell is going on?”

Dina grabbed her coat from the wall hook. “Ellie’s missing. We need to find her."

Cat blinked, then nodded without hesitation. “I’ll get my rifle.”

*****

The three of them regrouped outside the clinic. The wind had started to pick up, carrying the trail of leaves and dirt across the street.

Maria arrived first on horseback. She simply holstered her pistol and said, “Where are we starting?”

Before anyone could answer, another figure approached. Older, gruff, with a permanent scowl.

Seth.

What the hell was he doing here? Dina went to protest but then noticed something unusual. He simply looked at the group and nodded once.

“I want to help.”

The silence was thick between everyone gathered.

“This ain’t about the past,” he said. “She’s one of ours. We don’t leave our own behind. We failed in saving Joel. I won’t fail him again.”

Tommy looked surprised. Dina didn’t argue. If she was honest with herself, at that very moment she found a new respect growing for the man. They needed every pair of eyes they could get.

The group decided to split up.

Cat and Maria would check the south perimeter and the stables. Tommy and Seth took the river path. Dina headed north.

She knew exactly where she was going.

*****

Joel’s house still stood empty, quiet and ghostlike. No one lived there anymore. No one had touched it in months. Not since Abby had killed him. The door creaked as she pushed it open.

It smelled like old paper and worn leather. Joel had always been neat, but the house had started to collect dust like any forgotten place would have.

Dina walked through the front room slowly. Everything was where it had been the day he died. The bookshelf. The spare boots by the door. The battered guitar case in the corner. Even the photos of him and Ellie along the fireplace had gone untouched. 

She climbed the stairs and paused at the bedroom door.

Ellie had slept in this room once. This had been her room before she moved out and into the neighboring detached garage.

Dina imagined her sitting on the bed, cradling Joel’s guitar in her three-fingered hand, strumming what she could, trying to feel close to someone who wasn’t coming back.

She stood there for a long time.

Then she left.

*****

Outside the gate, the sky had darkened slightly, clouds rolling over the hills. Rain would be falling within minutes, making the search for Ellie almost impossible. 

The graveyard sat nestled in a quiet patch of grass and open field. The path up to it was overgrown. Most people didn’t visit unless they had to.

Dina stepped through the gate and stopped.

Ellie was there.

She was hunched over, sitting on her heels in front of a worn grave marker. Her back was to Dina. Her head lowered.

Dina moved slowly, each footstep crunching softly on the gravel leading up to the grave. She stopped just a few feet behind Ellie.

Joel’s name was etched into the stone. Simple. And final.

Ellie spoke without looking up. Her voice was hoarse and raw. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

Dina didn’t answer right away. She sat down beside her, knees brushing the mixture of gravel and dearth beneath her.

She placed a hand on Ellie’s back. The girl flinched but didn’t pull away. Dina was grateful for that. 

“You weren’t supposed to go through this alone,” she said softly.

Ellie turned her head slightly, eyes rimmed red but calm now. Broken, but not shattered. And still alive.

“I don’t know how to come back from this,” she whispered.

Dina squeezed her shoulder. Ellie flinched again. Dina tried not to take it personally. But how could she not? The girl that sat broken before her used to always come rushing just to feel Dina’s skin against her own.

“Then we start with just... coming back.”

The two of them sat in silence, the wind rustling through the trees across the field. Neither of them moved.

For the first time in days, neither one of them had to.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: Side By Side

Ellie

The house was too clean. Too quiet. It didn’t smell like old coffee or leather like she was used to. It didn’t creak under heavy boots or echo with the strum of a guitar whether it be from the living room or outside porch. It wasn’t home—not really. But Ellie was grateful for it all the same.

She sat curled in the corner of a bed that wasn’t hers, in a room that had only started to feel familiar again. The morning light poured in through the side window, soft and golden, catching dust that floated through the air like falling ash. Her legs were tucked beneath her, her half-bandaged hand resting in her lap. She hadn’t put on the prosthetic fingers that the doctors had given her a few days ago. She couldn’t bear to. She knew she would never touch them. 

Tommy and Maria had insisted she stay with them, said they wanted to help, to be a family again. She wanted to argue, say Joel was the only family she ever had and he was gone now, but she knew they meant well. She did like Tommy and Maria and hoped maybe she would feel close to them like she had with Joel. She hadn’t argued. Didn’t have the fight in her anymore. Besides, there was safety in it—in being surrounded by walls, by people who knew you even if you didn’t feel like you knew yourself anymore.

Still, Ellie could feel them watching her every move. Maria, with her soft glances and offers of tea or soup she never drank. Tommy, hovering just enough to be noticed, pretending to busy himself with chores he didn’t need to do. They cared. She knew that. But it was the kind of care that came with heavy silences and lingering eyes, the kind that waited for you to break so they’d know what to fix. She wasn’t some fragile thing they needed to worry about breaking. She could take care of herself. 

Ellie glanced down at her fingers—or what was left of them. The bandages had been changed earlier that morning, and the skin beneath still felt raw, still pulsed with phantom aches. The infection from when she had been bitten on her stomach hadn’t taken either like expected. She was still immune. Still cursed.

Needing a change of scenery, Ellie made her way downstairs to the living room. A few minutes later, a quiet knock came from the front porch. Maria answered, and Ellie didn’t need to look to know exactly who it was.

Dina. It was always Dina. 

The sound of her voice was low, hesitant. Ellie heard them exchange a few words. She was probably asking Maria about her. Then Dina’s footsteps crossed the wooden floor and stopped just behind the couch. She didn’t say anything. She just sat down beside Ellie, not too close but not too far either. Ellie found her heart spiking whenever Dina did this. The air between them carried a silence that was almost comforting. Like things could go back to normal one day. 

The two of them didn’t talk much during these moments. They hadn’t talked much at all since Dina had found her at Joel’s grave when Ellie ran several days ago, sending a wave of panic through the town. They just sat. Sometimes they walked together through town—Dina always a half-step behind, Ellie always with her hands in her pockets, hiding her missing fingers. The space between them was full of words neither of them knew how to say.

Ellie wished things were different. That she could take back it all. Back to the farmhouse. Back to JJ’s laughter echoing through the fields, his tiny boots kicking up dirt as he ran. Back to the quiet mornings when Dina would hum off-key in the kitchen making breakfast or when she was living with Joel and he would mutter about the lack of real coffee while flipping eggs in a cast iron skillet. Back to the warmth, the safety, the illusion of peace in a world filled with Infected, Raiders, and so much worse. 

Back to Joel.

She could still see him in her mind everywhere she went—lined face, tired eyes that somehow always softened for her, fingers steady on the strings of his guitar. She remembered the weight of his presence, the gruff way he’d say her name, like it meant something more. Like she meant something more. Something the two of them would ever fully understand. 

And then everything shifted. She remembered the way his blood soaked into the wooden floor as Abby hovered over him. The way her scream had torn out of her like she was some wild animal that couldn’t be contained. The way no one came fast enough.

“Get the fuck up, Joel! Fucking get up!” 

She swallowed hard, her throat tight, vision blurring.

Ellie knew deep down she couldn’t go back. She couldn’t undo the choices she and Abby made, the blood, the silence that followed her like a lingering shadow. All she could do was sit here, in this house that wasn’t her real home, and try to find pieces of herself in the quiet. Try to believe those pieces were still worth something. That there was something left that was still worth fighting for. 

*****

Dina

The walk to Tommy and Maria’s house had become a nightly routine. Just like brushing her teeth or making coffee every morning. Something automatic that you didn’t have to think about. Something she didn’t question whether she would do it or not.

Dina carried a foil-wrapped plate in her hands—cookies she baked from the night before. She didn’t even know if Ellie would eat. The girl had tried but it was never enough to Dina’s liking. The girl she admittedly still loved was so frail it made even her sick sometimes when she thought about it. But she brought something anyway. It felt right. The least she could do was contribute dessert for the night. 

JJ was with Jesse’s parents again. She hadn’t told him much. He was still too young to really understand. All he knew was that Ellie was hurt and needed rest. The boy was only just starting to say a few words here and there after all. Thankfully, Robin and Mitchell never minded. They loved JJ, and for that Dina was especially grateful for. 

Maria answered the door with a small smile and let her in. The house was warm and smelled faintly of grilled vegetables and roasted chicken.

“She’s upstairs,” Maria said softly, closing the door behind Dina. Maria never hesitated giving Dina a full report whenever she arrived for the night. “She never came down for lunch.”

Dina nodded like she did most nights when she arrived and made her way up the stairs to see Ellie.

Ellie’s door was cracked open. Dina peeked in.

Ellie laid on the bed, back facing the door, one arm curled beneath her head. She looked small. Smaller than even the last time Dina had come over if that was even possible. The kind of fragile that came from things breaking on the inside. Dina’s chest tightened.

She thought about waking her. About starting the conversation they still hadn’t had. That they needed to have. About finally asking the questions that clawed at her every night.

How much of yourself did you lose chasing after your revenge? Was there even anything left? 

But she didn’t.

Dina closed the door gently and turned back toward the stairs.

Voices rose from the first floor below her. Tommy’s voice. Then Maria’s. They were sharp. They were fighting about something.

Dina’s heart jumped. She knew she should stay out of it, but if any of it related to Ellie, she wanted to be a part of it. No—needed to be a part of it. She descended the stairs as fast as her legs let her.

When she reached the bottom, she saw Gail Lynden seated calmly in one of the armchairs in the living room. Tommy stood with his hands on his hips, pacing side to side by the fireplace. Maria stood by the kitchen entrance, arms folded, brow furrowed.

“What’s going on?” Dina asked. She glanced at Tommy and then back at Maria. 

Tommy turned toward her, face flushed. “Nothing. Just a conversation we didn’t need to have.”

“It’s not nothing,” Maria said, her eyes wide. “We all need to talk. We haven’t had a single real conversation since Ellie got back. We’re all holding our breath, avoiding what really needs to happen.”

Gail gave Dina a small nod. “Maria invited me over. Just to talk.”

“I don’t need a damn therapist,” Tommy snapped.

It was no secret that Gail was known as the town’s therapist. Tommy and Joel had never visited her much. 

Dina raised an eyebrow. “Maybe you do.”

Tommy glared, but there was no real heat behind it. He looked tired. The kind of tiredness that hasn’t left in months.

“You think I’m not trying?” he asked. “I sit with her. I’m trying to be better. I check in. I—”

“You hover,” Maria interrupted. “You don’t sleep. You’re angry all the time. And you won’t talk about Joel.”

“Because I don’t know what to say!”

The words hit the room like thunder. And the flood had only just begun.

Tommy took a shaky breath. “She’s all that’s left. Of Joel. Of... of any of it. I can’t lose her again. I won’t.”

Dina stepped forward. “You almost did. And you didn’t tell me how bad it has been with her ever since she’s gotten back. Not until  she was gone.”

“I just thought she needed time. I was trying to protect her.”

“No,” Dina said, voice sharp. “You were trying to protect you .”

Tommy’s jaw tightened. The fire inside his eyes rose slightly. “She’s not a burden.”

“No one said she was.”

Gail spoke up gently after silence consumed the room. “We’re all hurting. But she’s the one who went through hell. She’s the one who decided to leave. And who knows what else she saw or experienced while she was out there. We can’t fix that. But maybe we can stop making her feel like she’s walking through it alone. That’s the best thing we can do for Ellie right now.”

Nobody dared to speak.

Tommy spoke quietly several long moments after. "I'm just trying to do right by my brother. I'm trying to help her on the path he already started her on."

Then Gail added, with a bright smile as if revising her own memory of Joel. No… of Ellie and Joel. “If she’s on a path, it’s not one Joel put her on.” Gail shook her head with a subtle smirk.  “Nah… No, I think they were walking side by side from the very start.”

The room fell completely silent this time. Even Tommy sat down, his shoulders hunched. Maria looked away, blinking hard. Dina swallowed the lump that had formed deep in her throat.

None of them noticed the faint creak of a floorboard on the stairs.

Ellie stood there, one hand resting on the railing. Her face was unreadable. But her eyes shimmered.

She turned without a word and disappeared back down the hallway, hearing every word.

I wish you were here, Joel. 

*****

Ellie

It had been almost a month since she’d sat in Gail Lynden’s living room for the first time, stiff and silent and just a little bit angry. It had been Maria’s idea originally—something she insisted would help Ellie, a step toward healing. Dina had backed the town’s leader, of course. Gentle but firm, the way she always was when she really believed in something. Ellie had scoffed, rolled her eyes, wanted to say no way in hell was she going to start seeing a therapist. But she didn’t to everyone’s surprise, and even her own. Because deep down, she’d seen the way Dina looked at her, how much she wanted Ellie to get better. How scared she was for her. And seeing Dina scared like that broke Ellie’s heart into a million different pieces. 

So Ellie went. Not for herself. Not at first at least. She went for Dina. The girl she could never stop thinking of. The girl she never stopped loving. The girl she wanted to have a future with and no one else. 

Now, as Ellie stood on the wooden porch again, her boots scuffing at the faded welcome mat, she felt... not exactly better. But not exactly worse, either. It’s not like she didn’t like Gail. In fact, it was quite the opposite and she had grown to like the woman and her snarky attitude. She didn’t put up with anyone’s shit, and for that Ellie respected the hell out of her. But the constant talking of things Ellie didn’t really want to talk about… it was draining to say the least. 

She took a breath and knocked. The door opened a few seconds later. Right on schedule. 

Gail smiled like she always did—kind, patient, the type of smile that didn’t try too hard. “You’re early.”

Ellie shrugged. “Didn’t have anything better to do.”

Gail gestured her inside. The house smelled like tea and old paper, soft and familiar now after weeks of ongoing appointments. There was a dog somewhere in the back room, barking once before settling down. Ellie had learned during her first visit that her name was Koda.

Ellie took her usual seat on the plaid couch, its cushions soft and sagging, the fabric smelling faintly of dog fur. A crocheted blanket was folded over one armrest, and a chipped ceramic mug—Gail's favorite—sat on the coffee table beside a small bowl of mints no one ever touched. Not even Joel during his few visits back in the day. 

The living room was modest, cluttered in a way that felt lived-in rather than messy. Stacks of old books leaned against the corners of the walls, and photographs of people Ellie didn’t recognize lined the mantle above a cold fireplace.

Gail settled across from her in a worn armchair that creaked when she sat, her notebook resting on the chair’s arm as always. The therapist rarely opened it. "People get nervous when they’re being watched," she’d once said. Ellie had agreed then, and still did.

There was a warmth to the space that surrounded her, the kind of comfort that didn’t demand anything. The only sound was the steady tick of an old wall clock and the distant hum of Koda scratching himself in the next room.

“So,” Gail started, tucking a loose strand of grey hair behind her ear while crossing her legs, “how was your week, Ellie?”

Ellie rolled her eyes, though it lacked any real heat. “Fine.”

“Just fine?”

“Yeah. Got some fresh air. Helped Tommy with the stables a few times. Walked with Dina a bit like we do every afternoon. Nothing worth talking about.”

Gail tilted her head slightly, her voice still gentle. Her notebook still remained closed next to her. “How are things with Dina?”

Ellie hesitated and began fidgeting with her fingers. “They’re... okay, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“She comes by a lot. We don’t really talk much. Just... sit. Or walk around town.”

“That sounds like something though.”

Ellie picked harder at the thread on her jeans. “It’s easier not to say anything. I think we’re both afraid that if we start talking... that we might lose each other again. I think she believes I might run away again.”

“Or that you’ll say something that can’t be unsaid.”

Ellie gave a small nod. “Yeah. That too.”

Gail let the silence settle before starting again. “Still hearing those words in your head?”

Ellie’s eyes lifted slowly. It was during their second meeting that Ellie had admitted she had heard everything the night Gail had come over to Maria and Tommy’s. 

“If she’s on a path,” Gail said softly, “it’s not one Joel put her on.”

Ellie looked away. “Yeah. Still hearing ‘em.”

“And I meant what I said. This path you’re on now, Joel never put you on it. You two really had been walking side by side since the very start.”

“I know.” 

Gail leaned back in her chair, taking a gentle sip out of her mug while her eyes never left Ellie. “And how does that make you feel, Ellie?” 

“I…” Ellie rubbed the edge of her eyes with her sleeve. “I just really miss him. I just wish we had had more time.” 

Gail smiled softly. “I think we all feel the same.” 

The silence stretched again.

Gail leaned forward, her voice careful now. “Ellie, we’ve talked around a lot of things over the last several weeks. I think you’re ready to stop doing that now.”

Ellie stiffened. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Gail took a long moment before speaking again. “I want to talk about what happened in Santa Barbara.”

Ellie didn’t hesitate. “No.”

“Ellie, it’s been a month—”

“I said no.”

“Does anyone know what happened? Does anyone know what happened to you, Ellie?” 

Ellie shook her head, her eyes trained toward the living room winter. “Please… I just can’t.” 

Gail didn’t flinch. “You want to get better. I know you do, Ellie. And you’ve come a long way already. What you saw and experienced with Joel’s death is something no person should ever have to see. But that’s a wound you haven’t cleaned yet. You’re just pretending it’s not there.”

Ellie gritted her teeth. Her fist clenched at her side. “You don’t know what happened.”

“Then tell me.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Why?”

Ellie’s mouth worked but no sound came out. The words were too big, too ugly. They burned just thinking about everything that had happened out there. She didn’t want to relive those memories. Not now. Not ever. 

Gail waited. She didn’t push or speak again. She just sat watched closely.

Ellie looked at her hand—at the place where her missing fingers used to be. Her chest ached. Her throat tightened and felt like it was on fire. “Because I’m ashamed.”

Gail’s voice was quiet. “What are you ashamed of, Ellie?”

“Of everything. Of me.”

The tears came before Ellie could stop them. Hot and sudden, they surged up from a place so deep it scared her how easily she had lost control over her body. It wasn’t just about Santa Barbara. It was about everything. All the weight she had carried since finding out she was immune, all the faces she’d lost, all the silence she’d force herself to swallow instead of screaming. Her chest heaved, and she curled forward slightly, like the memories themselves were punching through her ribs.

She saw Joel’s smile. Dina’s eyes. She heard JJ’s laugh. There was blood and sand everywhere. She remembered the way her fingers used to move across guitar strings, the way they couldn’t anymore.

She didn’t sob—Ellie never sobbed—but the tears fell hard and fast, and her hands trembled in her lap as if trying to hold on to something that wasn’t there.

She hated crying in front of anyone. It made her feel weak. But here, now, in this quiet house with its dusty warmth and soft ticking clock, she couldn’t stop herself. And she didn’t even try to stop.

“I lost Dina,” Ellie choked out several minutes later. “I left JJ. I hunted Abby down like a fucking animal. And all of it for what? I... I let her live. I should’ve killed her but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. I left everyone for nothing. I let them all down. I let Joel down.”

Gail didn’t speak right away. She handed Ellie a tissue and waited until Ellie’s shaking hands reached for it.

Then, gently, Gail said, “Ellie... you didn’t let anyone down.”

Ellie looked up, disbelief etched in the lines of her face.

“What you survived,” Gail continued, “what you carried all this time—it would’ve broken most people. Hell, it did break a lot of people. But you’re still here. That’s not weakness. That’s strength. And I know, deep down, If Joel was here, he would be one hell of a proud dad.”

Ellie thought of the beach. Of the blood. Of Abby’s shaking hands and her own reflection in the water—thin, sickly, alone. She sat back, exhausted. The words had come like a flood.

“I think a part of me wanted to die,” she whispered. “That’s why I stayed in the woods for so long after. That’s why I didn’t come back right away. I thought if I just... let go, maybe it’d be easier. For everyone.”

“But you didn’t let go.”

“I think I heard Joel’s voice. Not like a hallucination or anything like that. Just... in my head. Telling me I was being a dumbass.”

Gail smiled. “Sounds like him.”

“I wanted to live,” Ellie said. “I think I still do. I want to live for Joel. For Dina too. But I don’t know how to anymore.”

“You’re doing it. Every day. Even if you don’t feel it yet.”

Ellie’s hands trembled. “I still think about Abby a lot. About what I did. What I would’ve done.”

“Don’t forget that she let you go, too.”

“I know.”

The two of them sat in silence a little while longer.

“I’m not ready to forgive myself,” Ellie said.

For the first time, Gail reached over and grabbed her hand. “Then don’t. Not yet. But don’t stop trying either.”

Ellie nodded slowly. Her chest hurt less now. Her breathing felt easier. And for the first time in what seemed like years, a weight had lifted off from her shoulders.

When the session ended, Ellie didn’t rush to leave. She just sat for a few minutes, letting the quiet of the room and outside settle in.

Gail finally stood after enough time had passed and walked her to the door. “Same time next week?”

Ellie hesitated. Then nodded. “Yeah… I think so.”

“And Ellie,” Gail called out one last time, making the girl turn around. “For what it's worth, I’m proud of you too.”

Ellie nodded and stepped onto the porch and into the afternoon light. The air smelled like pine and something baking in the distance.

For the first time in a long time, Ellie thought: Maybe I’ll be okay.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4: The Things We Carry

Dina

The morning air was cool with the hints of the coming winter lingering in the distance. Dina adjusted JJ’s coat and crouched beside him near the daycare doors. The boy bounced excitedly in place, his small fingers clutching the straps of his backpack as he gave her a sloppy kiss on the cheek and dashed inside with the other kids. Dina sighed, knowing she wouldn’t see him again until the morning as she was assigned night watch on the wall later that evening. He would do just fine with his grandparents, like he always did, but she still lingered for a moment, watching him through the glass, her heart tugging the way it always did when she let him go.

Some days it still felt impossible, doing all of it alone. Or not alone exactly—Jackson was full of people, and Robin and Mitchell were always nearby—but raising JJ without Ellie felt like a constant ache beneath her ribs. Like a piece of her heart still missing. Raising JJ without her never felt right. 

But things were changing. Slowly.

Dina walked the quiet streets of Jackson alone now, letting her feet carry her without much thought, until she found herself outside Tommy and Maria’s house. She wasn’t even sure why she’d come, not really. She just wanted to see Ellie it seemed.

She cursed at herself for being so weak. Ellie should be chasing after her instead afterall. The girl had left them and not the other way around. But after seeing Ellie so broken and close to death that night she returned, Dina never wanted to take another moment with her for granted. 

Maria answered the door a few moments later, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Dina, is everything okay?”

“Yeah…” Dina said softly. “I was just… in the area. Thought I’d check in. Is Ellie awake yet?”

She knew the girl still was struggling sleeping most nights. A part of Dina wished she could just crawl in bed with her and make all of Ellie’s nightmares go away. But life was never that simple, was it? 

Maria offered a small, understanding smile. “Ellie’s actually not here. She’s at her appointment with Gail.”

“Oh.” Dina paused. She was happy that Ellie was still making the effort to get better but a small, selfish part of her had wished Ellie would have been home. “She’s still going?”

“Every week still,” Maria smiled proudly. “Hasn’t missed one.”

Dina nodded, a strange mixture of pride and sadness knotting deep in her stomach. “That’s good. That’s… really good.”

She didn’t know what else to say, so Maria filled the silence.

"She's getting better, Dina," Maria added gently, noticing the girl’s avoidant eyes. "I see it. A little more every day. I know it's not easy—for either of you—but she's trying. And I truly believe she’s going to come out on the other side stronger than even before."

Dina looked at her this time, the words warming something cold in her chest. "You really think so?"

"I do," Maria said with certainty. "Ellie has had to deal with a lot of shit in her life. Way before Abby and the others came around. And I think you being here means more to her than you realize."

“We barely talk,” Dina muttered. “I… I just want my best friend back. 

Maria gave her a sad smile. “Give it time, Dina. Ellie is stronger than most people think. She is Joel’s daughter after all.” 

Dina couldn’t help but smile, shaking her head when a thought came to her. “Actually… I was thinking I might ride out to the farm since I don’t have anything until my evening watch on the wall. There’s still some of Ellie’s stuff I left there when I came back. Figured she might want it. Maybe it could help.”

Maria’s smile softened. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Dina. Do you want anyone to come out with you?”

Dina shook her head. “I'll be fine. I think it’s best if I go alone.” 

“Ride safe. And let me know if there’s anything I can do.” 

Dina made her way to the stables and saddled up Japan, her most reliable and closest friend. The rhythmic sound of hooves against dirt and gravel roads calmed her, giving her something steady to focus on. As she rode through open fields, leaving Jackson behind and toward the farmhouse, her mind kept circling back to those questions she so desperately wanted answered—about Ellie, about the past, about what really happened in Santa Barbara. Did she really find Abby and end it once and for all? A small part of Dina hoped Ellie didn't go through with it. 

The ride to the farm was longer on horseback. The trail swerved through half-wild countryside, where fences leaned with age and tall grass brushed against Japan’s flanks. Dina hadn’t been back since she left—well since she packed up JJ the the life she had built with Ellie. She had rode away that day with tears in her eyes and a promise to herself that she was done waiting. Hell, Ellie could be dead for all she knew. 

The house appeared around a bend in the trail, sitting quietly against the backdrop of golden fields. It looked smaller now somehow. Quieter. Possibly even haunted.

Dina pulled on the reins, slowing Japan to a halt just beyond the fence line. She dismounted carefully and tied the reins to a worn post. Then she stood there for a long moment, one hand resting on Japan’s neck, her chest heavy.

After gathering herself, Dina took a careful step forward. 

Dina found the wind was stronger here. It carried the smell of grime and dust, and something sweet that made her throat tighten. Maybe a memory. Maybe Ellie’s scent. Maybe the ghost of who they had been here—a family.

She pushed open the front door. It creaked like it always had.

Dust coated everything—thin and pale across the wooden furniture, the chipped countertops, the walls that still held a few of their framed photos. One of JJ, blurry and laughing while he played with his blocks. One of Dina and Ellie on the porch steps, sun in their eyes.

The house was like stepping into a dream. A reality that never existed.

Dina moved slowly through the house, brushing her fingers over surfaces like they might still be warm from Ellie. She didn’t touch anything at first. She just looked. Taking everything in.

There were still abandoned toys in a corner. A tiny boot tucked under a chair that Dina had forgotten during the rush to leave the place and the memories of Ellie that came with it. A yellow-stained bib still hung over the edge of the laundry basket in the corner.

Her throat ached.

Dina walked through the kitchen next, then up the stairs. She stopped by the nursery her and Ellie had spent weeks preparing for JJ’s arrival. She pushed open the door with a trembling hand.

JJ’s crib still stood in the corner, empty now. An arrangement of stars hung above it, swaying gently as if caught in a breeze from the room’s open window. She reached out and stilled it.

In the spare bedroom, Dina finally began collecting things—Ellie’s old backpack, half-filled journals, a stack of shirts folded in the bottom drawer. She hesitated before opening the closet, half-expecting to find Ellie’s scent still lingering inside. But it was just dust and old denim.

She moved to the last room—the one they had shared, where Joel’s guitar had been left next to the window, leaning against the wall. Its strings dull with grime, its body scarred and slightly faded.

Her heart stopped.

Dina hadn’t expected to feel so much. But the moment she saw it, it was like a wave crashed through her.

Joel.

She remembered him always in the corner close by everywhere she and Ellie went, ready to intervene if needed. She remembered their conversations about Ellie. About how much he loved her. How scared he was for her. How grateful he was that Dina had found and befriended her.

He’d once told Dina, in his own gruff way, “You’re the best thing that ever happened to that girl. Don’t you let her forget that.”

Dina had a suspicion that the man knew the feelings she had for Ellie even before the two of them knew what was going on. Like he had known what would happen eventually all along. 

I don’t think I was the best thing to ever happen to Ellie, Joel, Dina thought to herself, eyes stuck on the guitar. I think you were.  

She picked up the guitar gently.

It felt wrong to leave it behind. Like it was leaving a piece of him behind. Like leaving part of Ellie behind too.

Dina sat down on the edge of the bed and held the instrument in her lap, her thumb brushing over the strings. They buzzed faintly, out of tune. She didn’t know a damn thing about playing the instrument but she had always dreamed of learning one day. Of Ellie teaching her. 

Ellie couldn’t play it anymore. That fact never stopped hurting. But Dina hoped she would try to play again one day. What she would do to hear her sing one more time. 

And yet, the guitar still mattered. Still meant something.

Dina closed her eyes. She could almost hear Ellie playing late at night, her voice low, soft, singing when she thought no one was listening.

Without even thinking, Dina started to sing under her breath, the familiar melody catching in her throat. The same song Ellie sang to her back in the music shop in Seattle. The moment Dina knew she was in love with Ellie.

She sang each line softly, almost to herself, her voice raw with each word cracking with emotion. It wasn’t much, but it made her feel closer to the girl she still loved.

“We're talking away. I don't know what I'm to say. I'll say it anyway. Today is another day to find you. Shyin' away. I'll be comin' for your love, okay?”

“Take on me. Take me on. I’ll be gone. In a day or two…” 

Tears welled behind Dina’s eyes, but she blinked them away.

After a final breath she stood, guitar still in hand, and walked back through the house. She didn’t stop to look around again. She couldn’t.

Outside, the wind had picked up. It danced through the grass and tugged at her coat.

Dina secured Ellie’s belongings in the saddlebag, then hesitated as she looked at the guitar. Instead of storing it away, she slung the strap over her shoulder and settled it across her back. It felt right there—close and guarded. Like she was carrying a part of Ellie and Joel with her.

Dina climbed back into the saddle, adjusting the reins with a firm grip. The farmhouse sat quiet behind her as she pulled away. Maybe one day, she thought, they’d come back. As a family. Maybe they’d sit on the porch again and laugh. Maybe.

But for now, getting Ellie better mattered more than anything else.

Dina held the reins a little tighter.

And turned Japan back toward Jackson. Toward Ellie. Toward home. 

*****

Ellie

The sky had grayed early that day, a heavy ceiling pressing down on Jackson like a warning. Ellie didn’t care about the cold wind sweeping through the streets or the dark clouds gathering in the distance. She just needed to get out of the house.

Tommy and Maria’s place was warm and safe and full of people who meant well, but after a month of existing inside its walls—sleeping, eating, waking up without purpose—it was starting to feel like a cage. Gail would probably call it “emotional restlessness.” Ellie just called it not knowing who the hell she was supposed to be anymore.

Ellie walked fast, hands buried deep in her coat pockets, shoulders hunched against the wind. The meeting was already gathering by the time she stepped into the old lodge hall. Warmth hit her all at once—fireplace heat and too many bodies packed into the room. She lingered near the back, pretending she wasn’t late, hoping most of the people here wouldn’t notice her presence.

Maria stood at the front of the room on a stage, her voice even and commanding as she addressed the large audience. “We’ve called this assembly today because there’s been increased Infected activity on the western routes and in the surrounding towns. Nothing we can’t handle yet, but it’s more than we’re used to. We need to expand patrols. Rotate faster. We need more people.”

Ellie leaned against the back wall, arms crossed. Her eyes scanned the room. She saw Cat, arms folded like always; Mitchell leaning forward, listening intently as he sat next to Robin; Seth looking older than she remembered. Dina was near the front, sitting beside Maria, her hands clenched in her lap. She didn’t glance back.

“We’re not going to assign this,” Maria continued. “Only volunteers. If you’re in, please make it known.”

A few hands went up. Cat. Other familiar faces. Some of the newer recruits. There was hesitation in the room. Everyone knew what increased patrols meant—more risk. More exposure. Possibly more loss.

Ellie’s hand went up.

The silence that followed was louder than any shout. Every head in the room turned toward her.

Maria’s lips parted. “Ellie…”

“I’ll go,” Ellie said firmly. Her voice didn’t shake. Her heart did, but she refused to let it show. “You said you needed volunteers. I volunteer.”

Maria glanced at Tommy. He didn’t speak, but his jaw tensed. Dina finally looked at her. Her face was unreadable.

“You’ve only just started—”

“I’m fine.”

Maria tried again, more gently this time. “We need you to be sure. This isn’t about proving something.”

Ellie’s arms stayed crossed. “I’m not proving anything. I want to help.”

Dina stood up. “Ellie, maybe this isn’t the—”

“Don’t.”

Dina flinched at the sharpness in Ellie’s voice.

“I don’t need you to speak for me,” Ellie added, quieter. “I’m not some fucking fragile thing.”

The room went still again. Seth cleared his throat. “You’re not the only one who’s been through shit, kid.”

Tommy shot him a glare, like he wanted to pounce on the man, but Ellie didn’t even turn toward him.

“I know what I’ve been through,” she said. “And I know what I can do.”

Maria held up a hand before things could spiral. “Alright. We’ll arrange shadow patrols. You’ll go out with a pair starting next week.”

Ellie nodded once.

“That’s all we need to discuss for now,” Maria said. “Meeting adjourned.”

Chairs scraped. People shuffled out. Ellie turned on her heel and pushed through the doors before anyone else could stop her. She stepped out into the cold air, the sting in her lungs a welcome sensation.

“Ellie!”

She kept walking. The crunch of boots behind her didn’t stop. Dina.

“Wait—”

Ellie turned as Dina caught up and grabbed her arm.

“What the hell was that?” Dina asked. Her voice wasn’t angry. It was scared.

Ellie pulled her arm free. “I volunteered. That’s what it was.”

“You just started talking again a few weeks ago. I know you’re still barely sleeping. You flinch every time someone walks up behind or touches you. Do you really think going back on patrol so soon is the best idea?”

Ellie’s mouth twisted. “Wow. Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Dina grabbed her arm again, tighter this time. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just scared. You act sometimes like you’ve got nothing left.”

Ellie looked at her. Really looked at her. And when she spoke, her voice was dead quiet. “Maybe I don’t.”

Ellie immediately regretted the words the moment they left her lips. She saw the effect they had on Dina. Just seeing her hurt in that way made Ellie’s heart shatter. 

Dina didn’t let go. Her eyes shimmered, just for a second. “You have me.”

The words landed like a blow. Ellie couldn’t breathe. She stared at Dina, every emotion clashing like thunder in her chest. She wanted to run. She wanted to stay. She wanted to believe it. But how could Dina say something like that? Ellie was the one that had hurt her after all. She was the one that left them behind. 

“I… I don’t know what to do with that,” she said, barely above a whisper.

Dina took a breath, her voice lower now, steadier. "I still love you, Ellie. Even with all the things we still haven’t said to each other. Even with everything we still have to figure out. I’m still hurt from when you left us. Maybe I'm still a little bit confused. But I know one thing for sure. I refuse to let you go."

Ellie blinked, stunned silent. “I—” 

Dina took hold of Ellie’s arm, stopping her short. “I’m still mad at you but after seeing you come through those gates… I thought you were dead. I’m not ready to give up this fight… for us. Are you?” 

Ellie shook her head. “No, but—” 

“You don’t have to say anything right now,” Dina squeezed Ellie’s hand tighter. “Let’s just take small steps, huh? Like can I walk you home?” 

Ellie smiled. “Yeah… I would like that.” 

The two of them walked down the silent streets of Jackson together. Their hands still intertwined with each other. And they stayed that way for the rest of the night. 

*****

Tommy

The moon had barely cleared the tree line by the time Tommy reached the front steps of his house. His boots were caked in half-frozen mud from all the walking he had done around town, and his breath came out in visible puffs, each one slower than the last as he stood at the door, shoulders sagging with exhaustion. His rifle hung loose at his side. He could’ve gone straight to bed. That’s all he wanted really. Five, maybe six hours of sleep before everything started all over again.

But there was light still inside the house. 

Tommy frowned. Maria should long be in bed and asleep by now. 

It was past midnight—he knew that for certain. He’d stayed behind after the last patrol had arrived back to talk with Cat and a few others about shifting schedules around for the next week. And yet there was still a soft glow spilling out from the kitchen window. Maria wasn’t the type to stay up late. Not without a good reason.

Tommy stepped inside, boots thudding dully on the worn hardwood floor. The house was quiet, too quiet for his liking. Ellie must already be asleep upstairs. No sound of the radio playing. No clink of dishes. Just a heavy silence that settled on his shoulders like freshly fallen snow.

He found his wife sitting at the kitchen table, her posture straight, eyes distant, hands clasped around a mug that had long gone cold. Probably hours ago.

“Hey,” he said, gently.

Maria didn’t look up at first. Then she blinked and glanced toward him as if noticing his arrival for the first time. Her face didn’t shift. No smile appeared to greet him. No relief.

Tommy’s eyes flicked to the table. That’s when he saw it.

A letter.

One envelope, pale against the wood grain of the table. It was open and addressed in sharp, uneven writing: To Maria Miller.

Tommy moved slowly, setting his rifle against the wall. He pulled out a chair across from her. “You waiting on me, or is this one of those nights?”

Maria didn’t answer right away. Her fingers tapped the edge of the table. When she finally spoke, her voice was raw but firm. “Read it.”

Tommy looked at the envelope again. Something about it made his stomach twist. It felt as if the room had dropped several degrees. He picked it up, pulled out the folded paper inside, and unfolded it. The handwriting was precise. Almost too neat.

You’ve kept her hidden long enough.

I know what she is. What she carries.

Immunity. The failed cure. The lie buried in Salt Lake with the rest of the dead.

She may pretend to be normal here. You may pretend to believe it. But we haven’t forgotten. The Fireflies haven’t forgotten.

No matter how many fences you build, how many rifles you post, you can’t stop what’s coming.

She can’t escape her purpose. You can’t protect her from what she is.

For she will die. For that is her destiny.

When you're lost in the darkness, look for the light

Tommy lowered the letter, his hands shaking. There was no name. No signature. Just that final line, hanging in his vision like blood on snow.

The silence in the room now felt unbearable. “Where’d you get this?”

“It was inside the gatehouse,” Maria said. Her voice was clipped. Controlled. Angry. “Someone left it under the supplies bin. Greg found it and brought it to me after the last shift change. No one has read it except us two now.”

Tommy stared at her, sweat already pooling at the base of his neck. “They got inside?”

“I’m not sure,” Maria said. “They could have snuck it in. There have been no signs of forced entry anywhere. Which means something far worse. They are already here.”

Tommy rubbed a hand over his face. “Fuck. And we just agreed—”

“To let Ellie start going back on patrols,” Maria finished her husband’s thought. “If I had known about this earlier, I would have never agreed.” 

Tommy stood and began pacing slowly across the room. “Jesus. How the hell—”

“I don’t know,” Maria cut in. “I’ve been racking my brain all day ever since I read that damn letter. It couldn’t be anyone from the old QZs—we have screened everyone. It had to be recent. Maybe someone followed her back?”

“But Fireflies? I thought there weren’t any of them left. I thought they were extinct.”

Maria nodded once. “Or maybe it’s someone who used to be. Someone who knows what happened in Salt Lake. Someone who’s been waiting for the right moment. Someone who’s not afraid to play the long game.”

Tommy’s jaw clenched. He thought of Joel. Of what his brother had done to keep Ellie safe. Of the lies he told to protect her. Of the blood he had spilled. Hell, Tommy knew he would have done the same thing if the roles had been reversed. 

“What about Ellie?” he asked. “Do we tell her?”

“No,” Maria said without a beat to spare. “And we’re not going to tell her.”

“She’s just starting to come back to herself,” Maria said. “She’s still healing, Tommy. She doesn’t need all of this right now.”

“She deserves the truth, Maria.”

“She deserves peace.”

Tommy turned away. His hand trembled slightly. He gripped the back of a chair to try and still it.

“She’s Joel’s girl,” he said finally, voice low. 

Maria stood now too. Her voice didn’t waver. “Joel isn’t here anymore. He can’t save her this time. It’s up to us now. We’re her family now.”

For a long, agonizing moment, neither of them moved.

“She’s not a child,” Tommy said, refusing to back down. “If someone’s coming for her, she needs to be ready.”

“And what if telling her pushes her off the edge again? What if she takes off? Blames herself for putting everyone else in the town in danger? Or maybe something even worse?”

Maria looked down. Her hand went to the envelope, slowly pulling it back toward her. She folded it flat before tossing it into the fireplace, watching the words disappear before her eyes like they never existed. “We won’t keep this a secret forever. Just for now until we figure out what exactly we are dealing with.”

Tommy didn’t answer. He looked at the fire behind her where the letter had burned to ash. Watched the last of the logs fall apart into embers.

“Fine but we increase watch rotations,” he said. “Double the guard on the wall. And no one outside this house hears a word about this.”

Maria nodded.

“And Ellie?”

“We keep watching her,” Maria said. “But we let her keep healing. She’s earned that much. She only goes on patrols with people we trust and know.”

Maria watched him. Her face softened slightly when he remained quiet. Ske knew her husband better than anyone else. “You’re scared.”

He didn’t deny it. “I already lost Joel. I’m not losing her too.”

Maria walked over and touched his arm. “You won’t. We’ll make sure nothing bad happens.”

He wanted to believe her. More than anything. But in his chest, that old familiar ache had started to bloom again. The same feeling when he first had lost his brother. The feeling that lingered, never quite going away.

Tommy leaned into his wife’s embrace. They didn’t talk. They just leaned into each other, shoulders touching, eyes on the dying fire.

He didn’t know who wrote that letter.

But if they came for Ellie—if they tried to take her from him like they took Joel—then Tommy would be ready. Even if it took his life. 

And this time, nothing would stop him.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5: 

Ellie

The sky over Jackson was still painted with the remnants of morning sunrise when Ellie arrived at the stables. Mist clung low to the streets and the air bit bitterly through her jacket. Winter hadn’t arrived yet but it soon would be. 

Ellie shoved her hands deeper into her pockets, her boots crunching over gravel and dried hay as she crossed the field. The scent of horses, leather, and dust hit her like a distant memory. It was her first patrol since coming back to Jackson, or shadow patrol more like it, and though she hadn’t said the words out loud, she felt the weight of it pressing down on her chest.

Don’t screw this up, Ellie. You won’t get another chance. 

Fred and Astrid were supposed to meet her at the stables. It was an easy route—Maria had made that much clear. No real danger. Just riding out past the eastern fence line and back, a babysitting job, really. The route everyone started on for their first patrol and the one everyone avoided like the plague. Still, Ellie found herself struggling to find any form of sleep the night before.

When she rounded the side of the stable to find her horse, her eyes locked on a figure tightening the straps on a saddle she didn’t expect to see. Not Fred. Not Astrid. Not even Tommy.

But Dina. 

She was crouched beside her horse—Japan—running a hand along the horse’s back, checking the strap to make sure it was secured. Her breath steamed in the air as she glanced up. Then their eyes met.

Ellie cleared her throat. “I didn’t know you were joining us today.”

Dina straightened slowly. Her expression was neutral but still managed to conjure a small smile. “Last minute change. Tommy and Maria asked if I’d switch my night shift on the wall this evening for patrol instead.”

Ellie forced a nod, but something in her twisted. The words didn’t sit right. They were too clean, too convenient. Dina hadn’t said it outright, but Ellie could hear the rest of the sentence anyway: They didn’t trust you going out without someone they knew.

Typical Tommy and Maria still. 

Still, Ellie decided to let it go. Now was not the time to get into arguments or heated debates. 

Fred and Astrid emerged from the barn with their gear a few moments later, offering casual nods of good morning greetings as they prepared their own horses. Within a few minutes later, the group was mounted and moving out through the east gate. Ellie kept her eyes forward, heart steady, letting the repetitive sway of the saddle settle her nerves.

It was going to be a long day. 

*****

An hour later, the group found themselves making their way through narrow forest trails outside Jackson. Brown and gold leaves fell lazily from the trees, blanketing the ground in soft crunches beneath their horses. The late-autumn light filtered through the tree line in slow, scattered beams. Fred and Astrid rode ahead, talking quietly with one another, their words fading in and out of earshot.

Ellie drifted behind them. Dina had hung back too with Japan, riding just slightly ahead of her but silent. She hadn’t said an entire word since they left the stables. Ellie felt her skin crawling with no sign of stopping anytime soon. 

Eventually, Dina glanced over her shoulder at Ellie and slowed her horse until they were riding side by side.

“Cold morning,” Dina said, her voice low.

Ellie gave a soft grunt. “Could be worse. But winter is coming… eventually.”

Dina let out a small laugh. Silence lingered again.

Dina tried again. “So… how have your appointments been with Gail lately?”

Ellie’s shoulders tensed. She hadn’t expected the question, especially not here. But Dina never ran away from asking whatever was on her mind, and for that was one of the reasons Ellie had fallen so hard for the girl.  “They’ve been going... fine.”

Dina gave her a look. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s really none of my business—” 

Ellie smiled. “It’s okay, Dina. Really.” Dina gave her a small smile in return. “We’ve been talking about a lot of things actually. Last week we talked about... Santa Barbara. About when I left.”

Dina’s reaction was subtle. A slight twitch in her jaw but her eyes softened as well. Ellie could only imagine all the nightmares she had put Dina through when she left her and JJ. How many times had she woken up in the middle of the night, afraid that Ellie was dead?

“You have?”

Ellie nodded, eyes focused on the trail ahead. She was afraid what her heart would do if she looked into Dina’s eyes again. “Yeah. She knows everything but we’re unpacking everything slowly piece by piece. Some moments are harder than others. I want to tell you, too. I just—” She swallowed hard. “I just need a little more time.”

Dina reached out and gave Ellie’s hand a tight squeeze. “It’s okay. Whenever you’re ready.”

And that was it. No pressure. No guilt. Just those few simple words. Ellie felt something loosening inside her chest.

This time as they journeyed further into the forest, the silence felt warmer.

*****

The forest’s stillness shattered in an instant a few moments later.

A growling shriek tore through the trees, followed by crashing branches. Fred shouted from up ahead, his voice sharp—“Shit. We got Infected!”

Ellie’s instincts kicked in before her thoughts did. She drew her pistol as her horse reared, hooves skidding on the leaf-strewn ground. A Runner burst from the side, eyes wild, mouth foaming with rot and fungus.

Her first shot caught it in the chest. It stumbled. She fired again—headshot.

Gunfire erupted as Astrid fired her rifle. Chaos surrounded the group from every direction. Ellie scanned the perimeter, looking for her next target.

“ELLIE!”

She turned to find Dina struggling with her revolver, the chamber jammed. A Clicker hurtled toward her, limbs jerking in that nightmarish rhythm, teeth chattering like bones clinking together.

Ellie didn’t think. She leapt off her horse. Time and everything else seemed to blur.

She tackled the Clicker before it could reach Dina, the two of them hitting the ground hard. Dirt and mud filled her mouth. The creature shrieked, clawing at her. Ellie pinned one of its arms down with her knee, the other grabbing for her knife. That knife never left Ellie’s side. 

The Clicker snapped its jaws inches from her throat. Ellie gritted her teeth, twisting and pushing with everything she had left until her knife finally found its mark.

She plunged the blade into the creature’s neck. Again and again. The Clicker convulsed before it finally stilled.

Ellie stayed frozen. Her breaths hard and in quick succession. From head to toe she was covered in a mixture of dirt and blood. The weight of the Clicker still laying still on top of her.

“Ellie!”

Dina’s hands were suddenly on her. Pulling the weight off of her.

Ellie nodded slowly, then allowed herself to be pulled up. Their eyes met but for the first time they were afraid to look anywhere else but at each other. 

Fred called from up ahead. “I think we’re all clear!”

The woods fell silent again. Their breathing and the distant rustle of wind through trees was all that was left.

*****

Dina

The snow came fast.

One minute, it was just another cold Jackson evening. The next, the sky had opened up and poured down a curtain of thick, white fluff. Flakes swirled in spirals outside the window of Jesse's parents' house where Dina had stopped by to drop off JJ a few moments ago. She lingered on the porch longer than she meant to, squinting through the growing storm that surrounded the town.

"Are you sure you want to head back out in this?" Robin asked from behind her, the concern plain in her voice. “It looks like it’s only going to get worse.” 

Dina nodded without turning around. “Yeah. I just... I forgot something back at the house. I shouldn’t be too long.”

That was a lie. Dina hadn’t forgotten anything. But the moment she saw the snow begin to fall, the rising winds, her thoughts had gone to one place. No—one person.

Ellie.

She always hated the snow more now after what happened on that cursed day.

It had been snowing that day too. The day they lost Joel. One of the worst blizzards Jackson had ever seen. The day everything shattered. Dina could still remember the way the flakes clung to her eyelashes as she and Ellie had raced through the streets and toward the mansion. The way Joel had screamed and how his cries echoed off the walls. Those sounds still followed Dina into her nightmares sometimes. 

And tonight—this storm—felt just like the one before.

Dina tightened her coat around her. She stepped off the porch and headed into the storm.

*****

By the time Dina reached the small garage-turned-house where Ellie had called home since moving out of Joel’s, her cheeks were stinging red from the cold, and her boots had soaked through. She knocked on the door once, then again harder when there was no answer.

"Ellie? It’s me."

Silence.

Her gut twisted. She pushed the door open, surprised to find it wasn’t locked. The hinges groaned, protesting against the growing winds. Cold air blasted through the narrow room.

Dina stepped inside, quickly closing the door behind her. She immediately felt her heart lurch at the sight that greeted her.

Ellie was curled in the corner of the bed, knees drawn to her chest, rocking slightly. Her fingers clutched the blanket tight, her breathing shallow and fast. Sweat and tears shone on her pale face, her eyes wide with panic and unfocused. She didn’t even register Dina’s arrival at first.

Dina dropped her gloves to the floor and rushed forward. “Ellie! Hey—hey, look at me.”

Ellie didn’t react. Not even a flinch. 

“Hey, Ellie, it’s me,” Dina said again, softer this time. She crouched down in front of her, placing a hand gently on her arm. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

When Ellie spoke, her voice cracked. “J-Joel?”
Dina felt the tears forming in the corner of her eyes. “No… it’s me. It’s okay, Ellie. I’m not going anywhere.” 

Ellie’s eyes finally blinked, the fog starting to lift as she focused. “D-Dina?”

“Yeah. I’m here.”

Ellie’s body shook with a sob as she collapsed forward into Dina’s arms. Dina didn’t even hesitate to hold her back. 

Dina held her close, tightening her grip as if she could shield Ellie from the world and everything that had tried to kill her over the years. She pressed her face into Ellie’s hair, breathing in the familiar scent buried beneath salt and fear.

"You're okay. You're safe," Dina whispered, over and over like a prayer.

Several minutes passed before Ellie’s shaking slowed. Her breaths slowed, though her grip on Dina’s jacket didn’t ease.

“I saw him,” Ellie finally whispered. Her voice was cracked and raw. “I—I saw Joel.”

Dina closed her eyes. “I know. I figured the storm might bring back some of those memories.”

Ellie pulled back just enough to look at her. Her eyes were red-rimmed, haunted. “I thought I could handle it. But when the snow started picking up… I couldn’t breathe. It was like I was back there. Watching it all happen over again. And I couldn’t save him.”

Dina brushed her fingers against Ellie’s cheek. “Ellie, there’s nothing you could have done. You don’t have to handle it alone.”

Ellie looked away.

They sat in silence for a moment. The only sound was the wind banging against the walls and windows outside.

“I want to tell you what happened in Santa Barbara,” Ellie said suddenly.

Dina’s stomach dropped. As much as she needed to know, a part of her was still afraid to know the full truth. 

“You don’t have to,” she began. “Not tonight at least.” 

“No. I do.” Ellie swallowed. “I need you to know. Because I’ve carried it alone for so long. You deserve to know.”

Dina nodded, staying quiet. She didn’t know what to say but she held her grasp firm around Ellie, afraid to let go. 

Ellie’s eyes unfocused again as she spoke. “I found her. Abby. She was a prisoner. Barely alive. These people… they were monsters. Had everyone tied up on the beach, waiting to die or turn. I almost didn’t recognize her when I finally found her. But I knew. And she knew me too.”

She paused. “We fought. I made her fight me, even though she didn’t want to. I threatened the kid she was with. She put up a fight even though she was weak. I had her head under the water. I was ready to kill her. But then I… I saw Joel.”

Tears welled up again.

“He was in the water there with me. In my head. I saw him sitting there on the porch, watching me. Not angry. Not disappointed. Just… sad.”

Dina’s hand moved to Ellie’s.

“I let her go,” Ellie whispered, the truth hanging out there in the open air like some fragile thing. “The cycle of revenge had to stop. So… I walked away.”

Silence stretched between them. Dina felt a pressure lift from her chest, one she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding inside her. Relief came first—sharp and sudden, like exhaling after holding her breath too long. But she felt so much more because as much as she had once wanted revenge too, hearing Ellie say she couldn’t do it—that she had seen Joel and walked away from Abby—it told Dina more than words ever could about the weight Ellie had been carrying. About the pain. The restraint. The humanity that somehow still survived inside her, even after everything that was thrown at her. 

Dina blinked back tears, not just for what Ellie had done, or hadn’t done—but for the impossible burden she had carried alone all this time. And for the first time in a long time, Dina didn’t just feel sorrow for Ellie. She felt proud of her. 

“Where did she go?” Dina finally asked after a long exchange of silence settled between them. 

Ellie wiped away at her red eyes. “An island rumored to be a base of what’s left of the Fireflies. She took the kid with her too.” 

Dina slowly reached out and took Ellie’s left hand in hers. Her thumb brushed over the empty space where her fingers used to be.

“Did she do this to you?”

Ellie nodded. “Yeah.”

Dina’s throat tightened. “I’m so sorry.”

“I deserved it.”

“No,” Dina said firmly. “You didn’t.”

Ellie shook her head. “I left you. I left JJ. I left our family. I chased revenge until there was nothing left. I lost everything. I was ready to die out there.”

“But you didn’t,” Dina whispered. “You came home. You came back to me. You came back to us.”

Ellie met her gaze. “I didn’t know… I didn’t think you’d ever want to see me again.”

“I didn’t know either,” Dina admitted. “At least at first. But I do. I want to see you. I want to be here for you. If you’ll let me. I want you to be in my life, Ellie, because I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

A long breath escaped Ellie’s lips. Then a small smile. “I want that too because I still love you, Dina.”

Dina leaned forward, pressing her forehead against Ellie’s. “I still love you too.” Another long moment passed between them, each of them afraid to pull apart from the other. “No more running, okay?” 

Ellie nodded. “No more running.”

Outside, the snow continued to fall, blanketing Jackson in a thick, white coat. But inside that garage, for the first time in what felt like forever, Ellie didn’t feel alone.

She had Dina.

She had her family. 

*****

The Surgeon 

The desert settlement baked under the unrelenting sun. The place was silent and forgotten by most maps, but more importantly it was left alone by raiders who saw no value in its scorched sands and hills. Dr. Caleb Miro, one of the men who once held a scalpel over the future of humanity, now spent his days suturing gashes and treating infected cuts with trembling fingers and cheap whiskey.

The man had gone by other names before, but they all meant less than the one he never said out loud anymore.

The man’s clinic was made up of a welded sheet of metal and wooden planks, propped against the ruins of a long abandoned and looted convenience store. Inside, it smelled of a mixture of chemicals and rot. Tools sat in rusted trays. An old IV drip hung limp in the corner. A bloodstained cot sagged under the weight of countless patients over the years.

Caleb sat on a folding stool, hands steadying over a young man’s fractured forearm, the wound raw from a barbed wire injury. His mind wasn’t on the boy, however. It rarely was on his patients. Even now, in the rhythm of needle and thread, he still saw those flickers—white tile, sterile air, and the sickly hum of fluorescent lights. A girl, unconscious on a bed. Then the bullets. Screams that never ended.

"You all right, Doc?" the boy asked.

Caleb blinked. He hadn’t realized he had stopped stitching the boy.

"Fine," the man murmured, resuming his work with steady precision. He tightened the last knot and stood. "Keep it dry. Come back to me in three days."

The boy left with a limp and a thankful nod. Caleb didn’t watch him go. His eyes drifted to the edge of the settlement, where the wind kicked up little particles of dust.

That night, he lit a cigarette and stared at the fire outside his quarters. The stars pressed down from above, and he felt them, distant and judging him. No sleep came to him that night.

He rarely did.

*****

The next morning, just as Caleb was readying to open the clinic, a group of scavengers dragged in a girl no older than seventeen. Her skin was burned red from exposure, her breathing ragged and wet. Her eyes rolled as they laid her on the already bloodstained cot.

"Found her out by the water tanks," one scavenger said. "Been muttering crazy shit. Thought maybe she caught a fever or something."

Caleb knelt beside her, peeling back cracked eyelids. "She's severely dehydrated. Fevered as well. Might not make it through the night."

The men who had brought her in left her. Nobody stayed long in places like this. No one had time for the dying.

Hours passed. Caleb changed her bandages, force-fed her water every hour, and wiped sweat from her brow that continued to form. Just after dusk, the girl’s eyes snapped open.

"You have to tell them," she gasped.

Caleb leaned closer. "Tell who? What are you talking about?"

The girl wasn’t making any sense. 

“I… I saw her get bit. She didn’t turn. She’s immune…” 

Caleb froze. "What did you say?"

“She’s in Jackson…” 

Caleb tried to stir her but the girl was already slipping again, her chest rising and falling in shallow waves. Her fever spiked. Minutes later, she was gone.

Caleb stood motionless beside the cot.

She’s alive.

*****

He didn’t clean the room.

Instead, Caleb locked the door to the clinic and retreated toward the back and his personal room. A rusted trunk sat beneath the bed. Inside it, memories waited for him like traps.

He unlatched the hinges and opened it.

A Firefly dog tag, dulled with age laid on top. A surgical logbook—its final entry marked: SUBJECT IMMUNE placed carefully underneath it. A photo: six people in scrubs, arms linked, standing before a hospital wing was placed inside it. He was second from the right. The others? All dead now.

Joel Miller made sure of that.

He remembered the moment the door burst open. The frantic shouts. Blood on white walls, soaking through scrubs. Gunshots echoing through sterile corridors. The young girl unconscious under the bright lights. Caleb had been in the room next door, prepping sedatives and other equipment. He had heard the screams of his friends. He’d watched Joel emerge, splattered in red, carrying the girl like a ghost through fire.

After that, everything else went to hell. The Fireflies fell apart. Marlene died. The network went silent. And Caleb—he ran. Like the coward he was. Like a man with nothing left.

But now… Now she was alive. After all this time, she was still out there.

And he could finish what they started.

*****

Caleb left before sunrise. He took only what he needed: medical supplies, a pistol with six bullets, and his old Firefly pendant.

Before he left, he turned toward the battered shortwave radio he kept in the corner of his room and turned to a frequency buried deep in his memory. The static cleared, revealing nothing but dead air. He wasn’t even sure if anyone would be listening. Still, he keyed in the transmission:

"Subject confirmed. Jackson. Immune girl lives. Look for the light."

He waited for a few moments but got no response. He didn’t need or expect one anyways.

He saddled the horse he’d bartered for last spring and rode off toward the mountains. Toward Jackson. Toward the cure. Toward Ellie.

This time, no one would stop him.

Not even her.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6: Another Truth Revealed

Ellie

The fireplace in Gail's small living room crackled low. Snow fell beyond the frosted windowpane, blanketing Jackson in silence, but inside the room, Ellie felt like she was being crushed under an enormous weight. She sat curled into the corner of the old couch, arms crossed tightly, jaw clenched.

Ellie knew she should’ve felt better lately. Things with Dina had started to feel... less broken. There were more moments now, even as quiet and fleeting as they were, where it felt like maybe they could find their way back to something resembling what they had before on the farm. And yet, the hollow feeling still lingered. That tight knot in her chest. That echo in her gut like something important had been ripped away and never returned. No matter how much warmth she let in, how hard she tried to talk and get better, that cold place inside her refused to leave.

"You look tired today," Gail said gently, seated across from her in that same faded armchair she sat in every session. Her voice was always careful, never too soft, never too firm either. "Rough night?"

Ellie shrugged, her eyes fixed on the logs in the fire. They popped, cracked, sending up small sparks. "Didn’t sleep much last night."

Gail didn’t press. She never did, always allowing Ellie to some to her when she was ready. She let the quiet fill in around them like water slowly creeping under a door.

Several long minutes passed between them.

"You’ve been making good progress, Ellie," Gail said after a while, filling the void. "Since you came back, I’ve noticed it. I think we all have. You seem… steadier. More grounded even."

Ellie let out a bitter little snort. "You think this is steady?"

Gail smiled faintly. "Compared to how you were when you first walked into my house all those weeks ago? Yeah. But that doesn’t mean everything’s okay. It just means you’re starting to carry it differently. You’re healing, Ellie. It takes time."

Ellie didn’t answer. She could feel that itch behind her ribs forming again, the fire in her throat rising slowly. She came here to talk—she always did—but talking was like walking barefoot over broken glass. Every word had the potential to bleed. And she hated every moment of it. No matter how much it helped her in the long run. 

"Can I ask you something?" Gail asked.

Ellie gave a one-shoulder shrug. Not like it would stop her from asking anyway.

"Do you ever think about your purpose?" Gail’s voice was quieter now, more thoughtful. “I ask because... sometimes it helps people, focusing on what still matters to us.” 

Ellie’s face dropped. A shift broke open inside her. Something sharp and long-buried. Something she had kept shoved so far down it was fused deep to her bones. Gail’s question—so calm, so innocent—cracked that fragile seal wide open. Because Ellie had thought about what her life was supposed to be. She had even obsessed over it. Rewritten it in her mind a thousand different ways, trying to find a version of herself that didn’t feel like a ghost with blood on her hands.

Ellie clenched her jaw tighter. Her hands curled into fists at her sides. Her chest ached with the kind of pressure that felt like a dam breaking open. The words rose in her throat—angry, bitter, burning.

Ellie turned her head sharply, her eyes dark and unblinking. Her laugh was hollow, almost cruel.

"Yeah. I was supposed to save the fucking world. I was supposed to fucking matter."

Gail blinked. The room shifted.

Ellie smirked. “Wasn;t expecting that, were you?” 

Gail leaned forward. "What do you mean by that?"

"You want honesty? You said this was a safe place, right?" Ellie snapped, her voice rising as she stood to her feet. "Well here it is. I’m immune. I got bit when I was fourteen and nothing happened. I didn’t turn."

Gail sat back, stunned. Her mouth parted, but no sound came.

"And before you start telling me that’s not possible or I must be mistaken, believe me—I’ve seen enough people lose their minds and faces to know the difference. I’m immune. I am the only one."

Silence roared in the space between them in that little living room.

Gail slowly leaned back forward, elbows on her knees. "Ellie... I had no idea. No one ever said—"

"Of course not. Why would they? It’s a secret. Has been for years. Hell, for my entire life. Dina, Maria, and Tommy are the only ones still alive that know. Joel and I… we traveled across the country looking for the Fireflies. They promised they could use my immunity to make a vaccine."

Her hands were trembling now. She rubbed her palms down her jeans, trying to wipe away the sweat, the memories, the betrayal that still had never left.

"We found them," Ellie said, her voice quieter now. "In Salt Lake. They ran tests. Took blood. They put me under. And when I woke up… I was in the backseat of a car. Joel said they didn’t need me anymore. That the Fireflies had stopped trying. That they couldn’t make a cure."

Gail was watching her with wide, heartbroken eyes. "You believed him?"

Ellie let out a strangled laugh. "Not for a second. Not really. But I wanted to. I wanted it so badly to be true because the alternative was..."

She swallowed. Her throat felt like it was on fire.

"...he killed them. All of them. The doctors. The surgeons. Marlene. Everyone who knew how to make a cure."

The fire hissed in the corner. The logs split.

"Why?" Gail whispered.

Ellie looked down at her trembling hands.

"Because the surgery would've killed me. The only way to make the vaccine was from the part of my brain where the infection grew. I was already prepped for surgery. And Joel… he couldn’t let me go. So he took it. My choice. My life. My fucking purpose."

Her voice cracked on that last word. She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from breaking.

"I didn’t ask to be special. But if I had the chance to save everyone, to make sure no one else had to live in this nightmare? I would’ve taken it."

Gail let out a long, slow breath. She moved from her chair and knelt in front of Ellie.

"He took that choice from you. But I think any parent in that situation would have done the same."

Ellie nodded, eyes glossy. "And I loved him. I loved him more than anything. And I hated him. I hated him for lying to me."

A tear slipped down her cheek. Then another. She didn’t even try to wipe them away.

"For years, I tried to make sense of it, like if I just kept moving, kept fighting, then maybe it would mean something. I thought going after Abby, hunting down everyone who had a part in taking him from me, it would somehow make things better. But every time I thought I was getting closer to peace, I drifted further from it. Nothing ever balanced. Nothing ever filled the hole he left behind."

Gail rested a hand gently on Ellie’s arm. "You’ve been carrying this alone for so long. No one should have to do that. What about Dina? Does she know?"

Ellie quickly shook her head. “No… just that I’m immune. Tommy and Maria are the only ones that know what happened in the hospital.” 

Another long moment stretched between them. Gail stayed crouched on the floor, her hand firmly holding on to Ellie’s own. 

Ellie leaned back against the couch, staring at the ceiling like it might collapse and crush her. "Do you think I’m a coward for not going through with it? For letting Abby live?"

"I think," Gail said softly, "that walking away from revenge is the bravest thing anyone can do. Especially when they’ve been broken by it."

Ellie closed her eyes. "I used to believe my life only mattered if I died for something. Now I don’t even know if it matters at all."

Gail didn’t answer right away. She gave Ellie time to breathe until the girl finally looked at her again.

"Maybe," she said finally, "maybe you were never meant to die to save the world. Maybe you were meant to live and save someone instead."

The fire crackled again. Ellie let the warmth hit her face.

“Do you mean… Joel?” 

Gail returned Ellie’s gaze with a small smile. “Maybe. If there’s one thing I know for sure, that man loved you more than the world itself. You became his purpose, Ellie.” 

Ellie was still crying. But something inside her had started to let go.

And for the first time, she wasn’t alone with it.

*****

Dina

The snow had started falling again, fat and wet, clinging to Dina’s eyelashes and soaking through the seams of her coat. She pulled her scarf tighter around her neck and kept her gaze down, her footsteps steady as she walked the street that led to Tommy and Maria’s. In her coat pocket, she carried Ellie’s gloves—left behind at her place the night before when Ellie had come over for dinner.

Dina hurried along, knowing that Ellie had patrol that morning but always checked in with Maria before she left Jackson for the day. Her boots crunched softly beneath her as she approached the porch. A figure ahead caught her eye—someone else was heading up the steps to the house. Dina slowed.

It was Gail.

Dina didn’t know Gail well, only enough to exchange polite nods around Jackson or offer a wave when dropping JJ off at the town’s daycare if the therapist was out and about. But the woman had always struck her as calm and deliberate. But this wasn’t that. Gail’s posture was stiff, her face stormy.

Dina watched as the town’s therapist stepped onto the porch and knocked sharply. The door opened just slightly, and Gail slipped inside without another glance.

Dina frowned. Something felt off.

She mounted the steps and reached for the door, intending to knock and announce her arrival, but a raised voice inside made her freeze in her steps.

Gail.

“You knew what Joel did! Did you ever think that maybe I should have known!”

Dina blinked, fingers tightening around the gloves in her pocket. She knew Ellie was long gone by now but she couldn’t tear herself away. The door was left open. Slowly, she pushed it wider and stepped just inside the entryway. The living room was in full view, and Gail stood in the center like a dark cloud about to burst. Tommy sat stiffly on the couch, his jaw set tight. Maria stood near the fireplace, arms crossed, her face unreadable.

“She was supposed to be the cure,” Gail continued in a low whisper. “And Joel took that away from her.”

Dina’s heart dropped into her stomach. She didn’t understand—what cure? She knew Ellie was immune from being infected but she had never mentioned to Dina anything about a cure. A thousand thoughts surged all at once, but the loudest among them was disbelief. Confusion maybe. Dread. This wasn’t just about old wounds anymore or even what happened in Santa Barbara. This was about everything.

Dina made sure to stay just out of sight behind the wall, silent, watching, listening.

“She’s immune,” Gail said, her voice trembling now. “You know that. But that wasn’t all of it. They were going to make a vaccine. They thought she was the key.”

Dina’s blood ran cold.

Gail’s voice cracked. “But the procedure would’ve killed her. She never knew. Joel killed every Firefly in that hospital and took her while she was unconscious. He let her believe they’d just given up. That raiders attacked the hospital.”

A beat of silence. Then Tommy spoke, rough and low: “He made a choice. He saved her. And if the roles had been reversed, I would have done the exact same thing.”

“And condemned everyone else,” Gail snapped.

Tommy stood to his feet now. “And what if that was your kid? They may not be blood related, but Ellie was Joel’s daughter just as much as Sarah was when she was alive.” 

Dina’s mind raced, her pulse roared in her ears. One thing was certain—if she had been the one in that hospital instead of Joel, she would’ve burned the place to the ground to save Ellie. Whether the girl wanted to sacrifice herself or not didn’t matter. Damn the consequences. Ellie living was all that mattered. The world was already fucked anyway. 

“Is it true?”

The room fell silent.

Gail turned, startled before she could even respond herself. Maria’s face paled. Tommy turned slowly, eyes narrowing. Dina didn’t even recognize it was her own voice that spoke until everyone was staring at her. 

Dina tried to remain firm, her voice low and trembling. “What Gail just said... is it true?”

No one answered. The silence was enough.

“You knew?” she said again. “You knew that Ellie would’ve died if they made a vaccine? That Joel stopped it?”

Maria’s voice was quiet. “We didn’t want her to carry that burden. We didn’t want you to either.”

Dina stared at her, her mouth dry. “But she found out? Joel told her?” Maria nodded. “She’s been punishing herself for years—for not saving everyone. For surviving.”

“They never told her it would kill her,” Maria added. 

“So, no one ever gave her a choice. Not the Fireflies or Joel,” Gail muttered under her breath. 

“Nothing was even guaranteed!” Maria snapped, her eyes wider than Dina had ever seen as she sent the room into a deep silence. “They weren’t even sure a cure could be made. It was only a possibility. And what if they were able to make a cure? How would they ever mass produce it? How would they distribute it? Even if everyone was cured, the infected will always outnumber us. There will always be more of them than us and they can still rip us apart.” 

Everyone’s eyes fell to the floor. No one dared to even speak or mutter another word. The weight of everything… the truth that had stayed in the shadows for so long proved to be too much. And Ellie had carried all of that weight and more with her since she was fourteen years old. 

Gail broke the silence, falling to one of the empty living room chairs. “So… what now?” 

Tommy and Maria exchanged a long, worried look.

“There’s something else,” Maria finally said. “A few weeks ago... we got a letter.”

Dina’s eyes narrowed. “What letter? From who?”

“Someone claiming to be a former Firefly. They knew who Ellie was. What Joel did. Said the world still needed her.”

Dina’s stomach flipped. Was Ellie still in danger? “Where is it?”

Tommy shook his head. “We burned it. We couldn’t risk it being found by anyone else. We thought it was safest to destroy it.”

“Safer for who ?” Dina snapped. “Ellie deserves to know.” 

“Ellie has been through enough already,” Maria said. “She’s finally healing. We didn’t want to jeopardize that.” 

“No,” Gail said bitterly. “You weren’t protecting her. You were keeping her in the dark. Again.”

Dina found herself in the middle of this issue. Ellie did deserve to know what was going on, especially when it related to the Fireflies, but a part of Dina had to also agree with Maria. Ellie was finally healing and opening up again. The last thing she wanted was for the girl she loved to close down again or even run off. 

Dina sat down hard at the kitchen table, Ellie’s gloves still in her lap. Her mind spun. All the pain Ellie had carried. The nightmares. The guilt. The silence. She truly had only known a small truth but there had been so much more to it. 

Dina closed her eyes, her jaw clenched. She thought of Ellie’s face a few nights before during that snow storm—so small and broken, whispering that she couldn’t save Joel, that she saw him in her nightmares. That guilt was never supposed to be hers to carry. And yet… she still carried it anyway.

Dina looked down at the gloves in her lap.

She thought about the letter. About the possibility that someone was still out there—watching. Waiting for Ellie. Someone who wouldn’t hesitate to kill her.

No more lies.

She doesn’t need saving. She needs the truth. She needs someone who won’t lie to her again.

And if anyone came for Ellie—if someone out there really thought they could finish what the Fireflies started—

They’ll have to go through me first.

*****

Ellie

The sun had already dipped behind the hills when Ellie got back to her place. The last threads of daylight left Jackson painted in a dull, golden haze that did nothing to warm the creeping cold winds of winter. Her horse was already stabled—Fred had offered to take care of it as a thank-you for her help earlier on patrol, and she'd let him. She hadn’t had the energy to argue or carry herself any longer.

Ellie stepped into the garage and shut the door behind her, shrugging off her jacket. The space was cold, the kind of cold that settled deep in your bones. She tossed her coat over on a hook near the door, her boots thudding dully as she crossed the room. The walls around her remained quiet. Too quiet.

A pot of leftover soup sat untouched on the counter. She stared at it for a long moment, then moved past it. She wasn’t in the mood for anything right now.

Ellie collapsed onto the bed without bothering to change. Her limbs ached, not just from her long day on patrol, but also from the weight of everything else she couldn’t name. She told herself she should feel better. Patrol had gone fine, even if it was uneventful. Dina had been warm and kind and their relationship was improving day by day. They’d even talked a little the other night, real talk—the kind she hadn’t thought they’d ever have again. And yet, here she was, flat on her back, staring at the cracked ceiling like it had all the answers she was looking for.

You should feel good, she told herself. Stop being so hard on yourself. Things are getting better.

But that hollow feeling was still there, gnawing at the edges of her chest like a slow-burning fire. And no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get rid of it. 

Ellie dozed off eventually. A half-sleep slumber filled with creeping shadows and the echo of creaking floorboards. Her dreams were a blur—screams, water, the smell of antiseptic and blood. When she jolted awake, her heart hammering, the room was completely dark.

A knock rattled the door.

Ellie sat up, rubbing at her eyes, heart still racing. “Yeah?” she called.

“It’s me,” came Dina’s soft voice.

“Yeah, just a second.” Ellie dragged herself to the door and cracked it open.

Dina stood there, windblown and wrapped in a thick winter coat, cheeks flushed red from the outside cold. She held two mugs, steam rising from both.

“I brought hot chocolate,” Dina offered with a small smile.

Ellie returned the gesture with a large smile. “Fuck yeah. Come in.”

The warmth from the mugs seeped into her fingers as she accepted one from Dina. She took a sip, the bitter heat grounding her slightly. Dina stood in the middle of the room, scanning the familiar space like she hadn’t been there a hundred times before or trying to spot something new.

“You okay?” Ellie asked.

Dina nodded a little too quickly. “Yeah. Just... couldn’t sleep. JJ is having a sleepover with Jesse’s parents. Figured you might be up too.”

Ellie narrowed her eyes. Something was off. She just couldn’t name it yet, but the air between them felt... strange.

They both sat down, side by side on the edge of Ellie’s bed. The hot chocolate warmed her chest, but it couldn’t chase the unease curling in her gut. Had she done something to make Dina feel this way?

The two girls talked in bits and pieces, never going too deep into any one topic. Dina asked about the patrol—Ellie gave short answers. Ellie asked about JJ—Dina smiled and talked a little longer. But there was a distance in her eyes. Ellie knew Dina liked the back of her hand. She never missed anything. 

A few moments later, Dina went quiet. Her fingers tightened around her mug. She didn’t look at Ellie when she said, “Did Gail ever talk to you about Joel?”

Ellie stiffened. That’s not what she had been expecting. “What?”

“I mean—just... anything from before. When he found you. The hospital. That part of your story.”

Ellie’s stomach turned. She never once had mentioned anything about the hospital to Dina. “Why are you asking me all of this? I’ve never told you anything about the hospital.”

Dina shook her head. “Forget it. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“No,” Ellie said, setting her mug down. “You don’t get to do that. What’s going on?”

Dina met her gaze then. Her eyes were glossy, her jaw tight. “I... I know about the hospital. About Salt Lake. About what really happened there.”

Ellie’s breath hitched. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears.

“Gail was at Maria’s earlier when I stopped by. She was furious. Said Joel took the choice away from you. Said he killed the doctors. Killed all the Fireflies.”

Ellie’s vision tunneled. She stood suddenly, pacing to the far side of the room. Her fingers curled into fists at her sides.

“I’m sorry,” Dina whispered. “I know this wasn’t how you wanted me to find out. I should have told you sooner.”

Ellie focused on the floor. “I wanted to tell you, Dina, I… I just didn’t know how.” 

Dina stood now too, stepping toward her. “Ellie—”

“I thought all of this was finally over,” Ellie said, voice cracking. “I thought... if I just stayed here, if I didn’t talk about it, it would stay buried. But it always comes back.”

Dina reached for her, but Ellie stepped away. Not that she didn’t trust Dina but more that she couldn’t trust herself in that moment. 

“He lied to me,” Ellie continued, her voice cracking. “He told me there were other immune people out there like me. That it didn’t matter. That raiders had stormed the base.”

“And you believed him?” Dina asked gently.

“I wanted to,” Ellie said. “Because the truth... the truth was so much worse. He didn’t just kill to save me. He killed something bigger. Hope. A cure. Whatever the world could’ve had—he made sure it died with them.”

They both stood in silence, unsure what to even say to each other.

“I didn’t ask to be immune,” Ellie whispered after the silence between them had become unbearable. “But I wanted it to mean something. I needed it to.”

Dina finally closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms tight around Ellie. Ellie hesitated, then let herself fold into the embrace while Dina held her.

“You still matter,” Dina spoke into Ellie’s ear. “Even if there’s no cure, you still matter to me. Even if the world’s broken. You’re still here. You’re still fighting. I don’t care what happened. I would have done the same thing Joel had done. All I need is you here, alive, and with me.”

Ellie buried her face in Dina’s shoulder, letting the tears fall slowly.

“I just don’t know who I’m supposed to be anymore.”

Dina held her tighter. “You’re Ellie. That’s all you need to be. You don’t need to be anything else.”

Outside, snow began to fall again—slow and silent, blanketing Jackson streets and roofs in white.

Inside the garage, Ellie held onto Dina—and the fragile truth that she wasn’t alone anymore. She clung to it like a lifeline, silently begging not to ruin it again. Because deep down, she knew… there wouldn’t be another chance.