When It Ends For You, It Ends For Me

Reality, or Nightmare, It's All the Same

The blood trail led him several hours into the tree line, where it became spottier among the pine needles. It was a lot of blood, in retrospect, and the sight of it clenched his stomach and he set his teeth firmly together, standing firm in denial of the task that future Joel had to tackle. Was there ever going to be a moment where he could settle down and just live life without losing something?

Apparently not.

But it was fine.

He was fucking ready.

Sure, he had said once before that he was ready, but that flinch indicated that maybe he wasn't as ready as he had thought he was.

He sure as hell wasn't going to flinch this time.

This time he would be with her, far beyond where fucking Cordyceps could tear them apart.

He strode steadily through the tree line, one hand on his gun, fingers loosely floating around the warm handle. The world around him chattered and sang, and he glanced thoughtfully up at the sky around him. They didn't seem concerned about an infected among them, and that confused him. Usually, the forest animals would know about threats long before it appeared, and that told him one of three things.

One, she was a long way away.

Or two, she was dead.

Or three, she was not turning into a fucking monster and was lost out there somewhere.

He didn't like either of the first two options.

The third option – he hoped upon hope that it was true because that meant he could rescue her. Like he always did..

His journey took him on a four hour trek into the foothills, where the trees slowly turned into rocks and high cliffs. There were dozens of caves in the area, and without the blood trail, he really didn't know which way to go. He was about to head North when a rustle in the brush behind him caught his attention.

"Joel?" He heard a voice speak softly, and he turned quickly, as he drew his gun and searched the brush for where to aim. "Joel?"

"Ellie?" His voice came out of his throat raspy and harsh, and he winced and tried again. "Ellie?"

"I - I can't get up."

He had taken a step forward toward the voice, now he took a step back, considering. Those that turned didn't talk. They just shrieked. This was new. This was different. But it was Ellie's voice. Of course, she had to be fucking special. Her turned creature could probably hold a conversation and teach chess for all he knew.

"Why?" he demanded. "Ellie, why can't you get up?" His mind was whirling with all of the possible options, but the one question nudging into his brain at the moment was why the fuck was she still alive after all that blood he had followed...

"M'hurt," she drawled, her voice slurred and thick.

"Where?" he asked quickly, feeling his heartbeat quicken in his throat. He took the step forward again, squinting into the shadows.

"J- Joel," she managed to reply, and he recognized the tone of someone about to pass out. Clutching the pistol tightly in his large fist, he crept forward toward the mouth of the cave. Taking a quick step into the entrance, he paused, letting his eyes focus and adapt to the change in lighting. Huddled to the side was a small heap made up of Ellie, clothing tatters, and blood, and his heart skipped a beat.

"Ellie! What the actual fuck happened?"

She turned her face slowly to him, and he froze, trying to detect anything unusual in her mental state. Her eyes were unfocused and bright, her face red with fever. Her hair was matted to her head with beads of sweat and blood. She looked perfectly normal, and he swallowed hard. A grain of hope rose in his heart, and he nodded once. Tucking the gun into the back of his belt as a precautionary measure to keep it out of her reach, he took a few steps forward and knelt. She shifted slightly, face blanching in obvious pain, and reached a shaking hand toward him. Her clothing was in actual tatters, and wide gashes streaked across her pale skin, just visible through the cloth remnants.