Pedro Pascal/Character

Joel 4

You skidded to a halt at the waters edge. Shit! Nothing was going right. You forced yourself to breathe, your legs burning. The shouts were nearer now. The other side of the river was bare, no cover at all. To your left, was solid rock, a sheer tower. You wouldn't be able to climb that in time for it to matter. To your right, a stream, and then some bracken, too uneven for you to move fast, too bare for cover. Behind you, they were getting closer, shouting and whooping, like hunters that knew their prey was cornered. 

A rope almost hit you in the head as it was flung down. You didn't question it. If they were willing to help you, it was an easy guess that they were a better bet than the killers on your tail. You just got over the edge, hauling the rope up behind you, when they broke into the small clearing. A bullet sheared a chunk of stone from the ledge right next to your arm. You felt hands on your pack, dragging you back, lifting you up, then depositing you back down. 

You stared at the floor for a moment, steadying your breathing, quelling the ache in your legs as you stood up again. Turning to face your saviour. 

He wasn't anything special, you thought, his curly brown hair messy and unkempt, his eyes brown, but calculating, an emotion in them that you were all too familiar with. Pain. He was taller than you, and slightly wider in the shoulder, although you could see at once that he was slightly unsteady on his feet as he walked over to you, large hands gripping your shoulders. 

"Are you okay?" His voice was like music, soft and lilting. You imagined it would be the voice people heard at the gates to Heaven. That was a weird thought, and you quickly silenced the voices trying to add more to it, telling you to hug him, just as a thank you, of course.

"I'm fine. Thank you.." You turned your gaze to the river, watching the water flow over the large rocks, fish darting about in the calmer areas. White horses galloping as the waves crashed to the sand. You saw nothing that the rope could attach to up here. With slow realisation, it dawned on you that he had pulled you up. Using nothing but his own strength. You bit your lip, fighting the urge to check him out again, just in case your preliminary assessment had been a little hasty. 

"Happy to help." You heard, rather than saw his smile, still studiously ignoring him, watching the lights of the raiders fade. 

You hummed. You could feel his gaze on you, trailing over your figure, not that there was much to see under the bulky dark clothes you wore. That and the sheer amount of weapons hanging from your person. A pack slung across your back, a pistol on your hip, a knife on your shin, sniper on one shoulder, a rifle on the other. That was why you were so impressed that he was able to haul you up. Not because it was just you that he was able to lift, but all your gear as well. 

"I'm Joel." He introduced himself, stepping closer to you. The warmth radiated from him to you, your shoulders relaxing unwillingly. 

You introduced yourself, turning your face so you could see him in your peripheral vision. He was nervous, twisting his fingers in front of him, his eyes downcast. "We should keep moving." 

"We?" He looked up, hope evident. 

"You helped me. Probably saved my life." You shrugged, facing him. "You're stuck with me until I repay my debt." 

"I didn't mean-" He cut himself off. "Let's go." He jumped down a ridge, it seemingly second nature for him to turn and offer his help to you. You accepted, his palm warm against yours, your rough skin scraping against his. You didn't need his help, but it was nice to have the reassurance of another human that wasn't trying to kill you, or steal your gear. 

~

You hiked together for weeks, rarely speaking, both of you easily matching pace, and he'd even offered to relieve you of some of the weight on your shoulders. You accepted again, and the entire stash of supplies was evenly split between the two of you, and he had your rifle and his across his back. You had your sniper and your pistol, along with your lucky knife in your boot. 

You were grateful to him, although rarely voiced it aloud. Your feelings ran a lot deeper than just a simple debt, as you found when you thought you'd lost him. 

You were fighting off a few raiders, a simple job really, now you had someone to watch your back, and you heard a grunt and scuffle. You were unable to take your eyes off the scene. It was still imprinted in your mind. 

Joel, on the ground, not moving, a smear of blood on his temple, a shithead with a gun aiming at him. Your knife was in their skull before you could blink. You didn't even realise you had moved, then you were at his side, frantically feeling for a pulse. You found it, and almost fully relaxed. You dragged him into the nearest house, taking the time it took for him to wake up to steady the panic in your chest, resolving never to mention how him hurt had made you feel to him. That wouldn't go too well. 

He seemed aware of the change though. Talking to you more often, asking if you were okay, his touches lingering a little too long to be casual. If he knew how his touch set your skin ablaze, you were sure he'd recoil, disgusted. Nobody would want you. That, all the voices in your head agreed upon. It was a depressing thought, but one you chose to linger on, to remind yourself that you weren't allowed to love, it would only end in pain. 

~

1689 Words. 

I'm leaving this one unresolved for a reason. Not everything is solved by a man showing up, and people can forever wonder'What if' :D
Unless I decide to write a part two...

Guess you'll have to wait and see. 

Requests here.