Pedro Pascal/Character

Joel 4 (Part 2)

I'm not so cruel as to leave it at that. I just wanted to make you panic :D
Joel almost dies for the second time, and in the panic, you tell him you care. 

~~

It had been a year since Joel had saved you from the raiders. You'd repaid your debt, easily so, over the course of the 12 months, but you found it difficult to leave, and every time you tried, Joel seemed to find an excuse for you to stay. He needed help with carrying supplies, he didn't want to risk there being raiders that killed him in the next town, and the next. 

His excuses were flimsy, and you saw right through them, but you still stayed. You refused to see them as anything more though, You weren't that stupid. He wanted company, not a lover. And you just wanted quiet, in the turmoil of your mind. Maybe you also wanted him, but that was irrelevant. 

"Look at this." He appeared next to you. You'd grown used to it, and instead of drawing your weapon and almost killing him, as you had before, you merely turned your gaze to wherever he was pointing, seeing what was obviously a trap. 

"Raiders nearby then?" You murmured, frowning. He breathed an affirmative, and you remembered the fear you felt when you thought he had been killed. "We'll move on, put some distance between us." 

He led the way, sliding your rifle from his shoulder and passing it over. You loaded it, pressing the stock into your shoulder. He did the same with his own rifle, your sniper left against your back. It wouldn't be useful in close range combat, you were good but, you weren't that good. 

Bang.

Shit.

The word wasn't just in your head, Joel had hissed it. You saw the blooming of a crimson rose on his shoulder. 

Shit!

Now you were cursing, sweeping your gaze around, seeing a large group, about nine or ten, all making their way towards you. You hauled his good arm around your shoulder, moving quickly through the trees. Thankfully, he was still conscious. You weren't sure if you'd cope should he die. 

He started working against you. "Church." He panted, and your eyes fell on the building, steering towards it. The sounds of the hunt were closer on your heels now. Your memories cast back to the last time. 

"Joel, you get into that church. I'm going to buy you time." You loaded your rifle, breaking away from him, ignoring his pained protests as he tried to call you back. You had a job to do. Protect him. And you'd be fucked if you're going to take a bullet in the back because you weren't fast enough. 

They were focused on Joel. The first brought up their rifle. 

Bang.

They crumpled to the floor. There was a slight tremble in your fingers as you tried to reload. 

Shit. 

Joel had made it to the church, stumbling inside, loading his own rifle, and helping you pick them off. They retreated, and you hurtled your way through the trees. He'd stopped shooting about five minutes before you did, and your brain was wonderful in providing all the different things that could have happened to him. 

"Joel?" You hated the clear panic in your voice as you entered, seeing him slumped back against the wall, his eyes half closed. "No, no,no, no. No!" The word fell repeatedly from your lips, panicked and fearful. "Don't you fucking dare, it's just a flesh wound." You peeled back his shirt, ignoring the soft definition of muscle, your eyes falling on the wound. The bullet had an exit hole, but you weren't sure if that was good or bad. You kept talking to him, the stupid rambles in your head while you worked, using the small amount of supplies you had to treat him. 

"So, Joel, where are we going from here? Because I was never all too religious, churches give me the creeps. We could head towards Texas? Let you see your hometown before you die. Not that you are dying. I'm a very capable medic. And I care about you, so you know, one hundred percent effort, as long as there's no puke, or shit, or anything other than a neat puncture wound, which is all you have, so you're going to be fine." 

His hand moved, grabbing hold of yours. You stopped talking, your heart kicking into overdrive, meeting his pained gaze. "I trust you, just stop talking. I don't like it when you sound scared." 

You nodded, swallowing past the lump in your throat. You'd done all you could with what you had. Only time could tell now. You sat next to him while he rested, and he kept his hand over yours. It was stupid, him comforting you when he was the one in pain, but you weren't going to complain, and risk losing his reassurance. 

~

You spent two days in that church, jumpy and fearful that the raiders would come back. Joel had grown stronger, although not enough that you wanted him to be running through the woods. You'd repacked the bags while he slept, giving him the lighter things, like the sleeping bags, and food. You took the weapons, ammo, water, and everything else. He didn't mention it as you helped him to his feet, and the two of you moved slowly, your eyes attuned to searching for anything dangerous, your rifle in your hands. 

"We need to talk." 

You were a few miles away from the church, but you were still slightly jumpy. The words spiked panic in your throat. "About?" 

"You said you cared about me." 

You forgot to breathe for a second. He'd heard that? You thought it had been lost in the midst of all your ramblings. You stumbled over your words as you tried to voice them. "No, well, yes, but not-" 

You were cut off by his lips against your cheek. He looked nervous, his hands fidgeting with his jacket, his eyes looking anywhere but at your face. 

"What was that for?" Stupid, stupid brain. The only words you say, and it questions why he did the very thing you'd been hoping for since you realised how you felt. Heat rushed to your face. 

"I care about you too." 

Things were different after that. You still struggled with your history, and the crushing weight of the guilt, but Joel was there with his easy smile, ready to lend you a hand whenever you asked for it. Sometimes, even when you didn't ask, him naturally just knowing when it was all getting too much, and setting aside some time just for you, when he'd hug you, rock you in his arms, telling you that he was there. He'd never leave you. You were safe.

~~~

1130 words. 

I couldn't leave it hanging, I'm sorry. 

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