Chapter Text
Winter, 2008, Washington DC
Snow hasn’t yet come, so that must mean it is still December. It’s hard to keep track in these days.
You used to have handmade calendars, improvised Christmas presents, blown out candles for your birthday; no cake, of course. Used to mark down the days with a decade-old pencil you found in the study of your old foster home, then carry on as if life hadn’t suddenly and brutally come to a halt five years ago. As if you weren’t just living in a strange limbo on this wilting earth. But you stopped caring about all this when your sister died.
Joel doesn’t know the date as well, and why even bother? He knows it is cold and brutal out here, venturing into the city with Tommy, looking for supplies and maybe a fucking break from the two morons they were still stuck with.
They had been part of a larger group, one that inevitably shrank during the harsh, long trip from Austin to Boston. Joel had known that it was a goddamn stupid idea to embark on this trek, all the more stupid given that this group had been reckless and inconsequential from the start.
Anyway, why make an effort to leave, hell, why make an effort to do anything at all? Tommy had put both hands on his shoulder, looking at him with that pitying expression he absolutely hated, telling him that there was more to life than the nothingness and the desolation of the Austin QZ, some purpose out there waiting for them both. Saying that he knew that things were hard after Sarah, but maybe he could still try to move on? And Joel would have punched anyone else for talking to him like that. But it was Tommy, and Tommy was all that he had left, all that he could still protect. And Tommy would leave with or without him, how could he stay behind?
So he was begrudgingly stuck with these people and with the promise of a better life in the Boston QZ, smuggling and whatnot. Deep down, Joel was relieved he could leave Austin, maybe pretend that he could also leave its painful history behind. It never happened. He knows he is hardly a shell of himself nowadays, shooting and stabbing and punching anything in his way in the name of surviving, in the name of taking Tommy where he so desperately needs to be, since he himself doesn’t know where to go. It doesn’t mean he enjoys any of it.
Of course, he is utterly unimpressed when Tommy turns to him and asks if he can hear it, a voice, a feminine voice, coming from somewhere around the block. He is still amazed by Tommy’s capacity of putting himself in danger for absolutely nothing, would he never learn? There is no great act, no grand gesture. But he always seems to think that he can save someone, anyone, so Joel is left to save him time and time again.
And it’s not like Tommy doesn’t kill and torture just as well as he does. What was this whole group for, in the end? But he still thinks he is better than Joel, I still have a fucking heart and all the things he repeats over and over again, and okay, if that’s what he has to tell himself to rest his head during the few hours they can actually get some sleep, then Joel doesn’t care about being the insensitive brute. As long as Tommy is still breathing.
“Don’t you dare,” he puts a warning hand on his brother’s shoulder before he can sprint ahead, and Tommy is pissed because he knows Joel is usually right in the end. But he has a gut feeling, and god , Joel hates his guts and his feeling because they led them to this fucking situation in the first place. The voice calls again, weak and scared, and Joel is certain that this is a trap, of course it is. Don’t they act this shit out all the time? But it’s a maiden in distress, and Tommy always wanted to be a knight.
He shoves a restless Tommy into a store — a hardware store for the looks of it, stripped clean a long time ago —, checking inside for any infected before locking them there. He has his revolver in hand, looking up for snipers. This seems to be a remote, mainly residential neighborhood, unaffected by the bombings, and the buildings that surround them are not very tall.
Going for the back, he can take a look at the woman calling out. She is younger than him, around ten years, he is guessing. There’s blood on her jeans, but it doesn’t look fresh. She is whimpering, hugging herself, apparently in pain. He must admit it is strange, because she isn’t asking for help or anything, doesn’t seem to acknowledge the fact that they are around. Maybe she has gone mad from loss and pain, unable to move on. He holds up his gun, looking for a clear shot through the window, to put her out of her misery.
“What are you doing?” Tommy hisses, forces his gun down. “She is fucking harmless, Joel. Maybe she’s just hungry”.
“We have nothing to share,” and it was a lie, because they had some food, cans they had found in the last town they looted. Not that he would risk running out of them in the middle of winter, just because a lunatic was crying in the middle of the street, waiting for some stray infected to tear her apart or a hunter to find her. For all that he knows, she could be infected.
A heartbreaking sob cuts the air between them, and Joel makes a mistake. He steals a glance out the window again, giving Tommy an opportunity to slip out the back door and go towards the woman.
You close your eyes, chin on your knees and hands on your ears, as if you would like to disappear from this world. It takes a while for you to acknowledge the man in front of you, opening your eyes slowly, widening them at the sight. He is crouching, asking something, are you alright, do you need anything? You shake your head, harder than necessary, but then you nod, apparently uncertain of what it is you want. He smiles, sad and empathetic, offering to take a look at your leg. When he turns his body slightly to look at the other man that is approaching carefully, you seize the opportunity to swiftly grab the hidden gun from under your shirt and press it to his temple.
“On your feet, Prince Charming.”
You gather he really must think he lives in a fucking fairy tale, he has this air to him. You make him stand while the other man curses, pointing his own gun. When you are both on your feet, you stand behind him, using him as a shield, your gun still at his head.
“What do you need?” The man you are holding hostage asks, his voice a low quiver. You tell him to drop his own gun, then point your head at the other one.
“Tell him to put the gun down as well. And to give me his backpack”.
“Do what she says, Joel,” he pleads when the other man, Joel, hesitates. He is looking around, trying to understand if you work alone, or if this is an even more elaborate trap.
“For all you know, I have men in every roof of this city,” you drawl, sarcastic grin on your face. Joel doesn’t flinch as you stare each other down. You can see he doesn’t believe you, his eyes slightly narrowed. Maybe he’s waiting to give your hostage a sign, tell him the moment to turn this around and break free from your hold, steal your gun. He only gives up when he realizes your other hand also holds a knife to his companion’s stomach.
“I don’t believe you,” he states even as he lowers his gun, his voice deep and steady. You shrug, or try to. He doesn’t need to believe you. He only needs to cooperate.
“You can put the gun down. We won’t harm you,” the man you are holding tries. He does seem like the diplomatic type. You snort.
“Yeah, that’s not what I’m sensing from the big guy over there. I let you go, he blows my fucking brains out without a second thought”.
“Don’t worry about him. My name is Tommy, his is Joel. We’re not looking for trouble, we just want to go through,” he offers, out of breath. “No one has to die”.
You keep staring at the Joel guy, and you can feel that he knows, too, that this is not true. You’ll have to shoot him, could have done it already, because he won’t let you go after you get their things. He will hunt you down if necessary, and you’re not into this kind of trouble.
You are still willing to give it a chance, tell him to get rid of all his weapons, to kick them towards you. You don’t like killing, but you hate killing those you can recognize as yourself the most. Cold-blooded, skeptic survivors, but still void of true meanness.
“Joel? Tommy?” A voice calls from somewhere behind Joel, and you realize he must be partially deaf because he doesn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he does a good job at ignoring.
A man turns the corner to find the three of you in the alley, muttering something under his breath at the sight. Joel looks at him sideways, finally acknowledging his presence.
The man smiles, throwing his hands in the air, mockingly. You don’t have to look at him twice to know he’s fucking daft.
“Tommy boy! Let yourself be captured by a little girl?” He is also condescending and cruel, you pick up on that right away. There’s something nasty behind his eyes, and you know he wouldn’t hesitate before doing despicable things to you. “What about we all calm ourselves down…”
Joel hardly flinches when the bullet flies past him, hitting the man straight in the eye. Tommy gasps, shocked, misses the opportunity to break himself free, your gun already against his temple again.
The air seems to shift after this. Instead of getting angrier, you can swear Joel almost seems relieved, something behind his eyes that you can’t quite reach. Meanwhile, Tommy is restless against you, muttering the guy’s name, Adam . He is more afraid now, thinks you can kill him at any second. Joel sees right through you. He knows you will not.
So you barely register when he quickly raises his gun, the sound of the gunshot echoing in your ears. You must seem bewildered when both you and a struggling Tommy glance back at the other man falling to the ground a few feet away from you, his head blown. You didn’t hear him approach you from behind.
“What the fuck, Joel!” Tommy shouts, but Joel remains unperturbed. “Why did you kill Paul?!”
You know what you could see in Joel’s eyes now, because it’s in yours too. Respect. Maybe that’s why he saved you. You’re still not sure.
You lower both your weapons, let Tommy free, but he’s so flustered that he doesn’t even notice. Joel doesn’t make to shoot you, but you know this is still a possibility. Killing the man was less a peace offering than a stalemate, a gamble. Well, you released Tommy. Where to go from here?
“I’ve been wanting to get rid of these goddamn fools the minute we left Austin. We’re better on our own,” Joel states, and you realize you’ve done him a favor, unbeknownst to you. You gave him the opportunity he had been waiting for.
“Unbelievable! And you didn’t care to think how I would feel about it?”
They both turn to you when you snicker, and Tommy realizes you are not even holding your gun his way anymore. He looks around to retrieve his own, and you cock your head.
“Don’t do something stupid, Prince Charming, I still have the upper hand. And big brother over there’s right,” you point your head towards Joel, and he scowls. “Those two were a waste of fucking time”. Tommy frowns, frozen on the spot again.
“You didn’t even know them. And how did you know we’re brothers anyway?”
A pang of sharp grief hits you right in the chest, your eyes suddenly morose.
“I know the dynamics too well not to recognize arguing siblings,” you smile bitterly.
The three of you stand, not knowing exactly what to do now. Part ways and pretend nothing happened? You’re not that desperate for their supplies anyway, plenty of stolen canned goods stashed in the little land you took over on the outskirts of town.
You’ve become something of a hoarder, never satisfied with what you actually have. Maybe it is just an excuse to get away from the unwelcome memories the walls of the underground bunker hold, the sounds of conversation that you can still hear in your head. You’re not any less alone as you walk the familiar streets looking for victims, but what else can you do besides this?
Tommy senses your grief, and you know he wants to be mad at you, feel betrayed. He sighs, looking away.
“What the fuck are we supposed to do now?”
You carefully step away from them, approach the man’s corpse behind you, never turning your back to the brothers. You crouch, testing to see if Joel will complain about you prying the body, stripping him free of his belongings. He doesn’t look happy, but he still doesn’t shoot you.
“We move on. We don’t need them,” he responds, his eyes still trained on you, deciding what to do. Assessing. You pretend not to notice, pretend not to hear their conversation as well. You can feel he doesn’t want to talk in front of you, but he still doesn’t know if he can actually just turn and leave, or if he should just kill you and get this over with. It’s actually pretty surprising that he hasn’t already, even if you did him a favor. Perhaps he is feeling the same way that you were, just minutes ago.
“They were the ones with the contacts in the QZ, Joel. Without them, they won’t trust us,” Tommy scoffs, still unbelieving of what his brother did, and still bitter about getting himself trapped.
You look into Paul ’s bag, but there’s nothing of value in it. Perhaps that’s why Joel let you look. Some ammo, a medical kit. A pornographic magazine you drop on the bloody pavement with a muttered ew . You take his gun and find a good knife on his body, at least.
“We have a name. We find her, tell her we were with them, that it was an unfortunate situation. If she doesn’t want to make a deal with us, then we lie low in Boston for a while before deciding what to do next”.
“You’re going to Boston?” They snap their heads towards you, already standing somewhat near them. You offer Tommy his gun, which you just picked up from the floor. He accepts your halfhearted peace offering. Joel doesn’t respond, disliking the way you are getting into their business.
“Maybe,” Tommy says, reluctant. You raise your brows.
“The QZ?” He nods.
You bite your lip, thinking for a minute.
“Let’s make a deal. It’ll get dark soon, and I know a safe spot. These streets are usually not this calm, and you might not want to get into trouble”.
The brothers exchange looks, wary.
“And what do you want?” Joel sighs, one hand on his hip in a tired demeanor.
“I want to go to Boston as well”.
Joel shakes his head, an “absolutely not” already on his mouth, but Tommy looks as if he’s seeing you for the first time. Inquisitive, surprised eyes.
“Why?”
You shrug, cross your arms, defensive.
“Matters to cake care of,” you try to sound nonchalant. Tommy stares at you, up and down. You want to roll your eyes.
It’s probably a terrible idea to get stuck with two unknown men, but you have wanted to go for a while. If you don’t seize the opportunity now, you’ll just continue to chicken out. Joel is clearly confident they can get there in one piece by themselves, and he is good with his gun. You are, too, you showed them that. Together, you have even more chances.
“This is a terrible idea,” Joel speaks up, addressing Tommy.
“She’s clearly skilled. Wouldn’t hurt,” Tommy argues, turning.
“And I have plenty of supplies. You’ll surely need it throughout winter. If you let me go with, I can share,” you step in.
Joel sighs again, running a hand through his forehead. You smile, knowing he’s already defeated when Tommy turns to you again.
“Follow me, gents,” you walk past them, not waiting to see if they’ll follow. Tommy quickly catches up to you, your whole act long forgotten, his curiosity getting the best of him. Besides, it’s been a long time since he’s had the company of a beautiful woman.
You eye him carefully, frown a little.
“Already forgave me for holding you hostage? Killing your friend?”
He shrugs, a smile tugging on his lips as he leans closer to you.
“Nothing I haven’t done myself. And they really were morons,” he mutters the second part, admitting something his brother certainly told him a million times, and you can hear Joel grumbling behind you, his footsteps a little closer.
“Didn’t catch your name, by the way,” Tommy continues. You pause, your eyes flickering from the man to the streets ahead, and Joel narrows his eyes behind you.
“Diana,” you finally say, and Tommy whistles.
“Like the goddess?” It’s suggestive, and you nod slightly, refuse to look his way. It’s no use leading him on.
Joel wants to scold Tommy, shake him out of this weird trance, get him to stop following you like a lost puppy. He knows Tommy will want to play the hero now, get himself in even more trouble, and for what? At least you are skilled, seems able to take care of yourself. The last thing he wants is someone more to look after.
You glance back at him from over your shoulder. He’s watching you, making sure you know he won’t let his guard down. That he isn’t Tommy. Good, you think. Tommy may seem pleasant, but what is pleasantry worth nowadays? When he lowers his eyes, you know you are on the same page.
Diana, he rolls the name around in his mind. It’s something about the way you said it, it doesn’t seem right to him. You stare ahead again, but somehow you know what he is thinking.
That there is no fucking way this is really your name.