Chapter Text
“Joel.”
They’d been silent for a couple hours, both of them most of the way to miserable, trudging head on against an icy, eastward wind. Joel didn’t know what exactly had happened to the weather between their descent from the mountains and whatever desert they’d been crossing in northern Colorado—but it was fucking cold.
“Joel.”
He turned to his right, where Ellie had stopped a couple feet back. “Yeah?”
“Here.” She held out her hat to him, her hood cinched tight already. “I don’t need it.”
Joel sighed, and tried not to wince as another gust of wind sliced at the inch of skin exposed between his sleeve and his ill-fitting glove. “Neither do I. Put it back on.”
Ellie was either glaring at him, or squinting against the sun—maybe both. “Your ears look like shit. They were red this morning and now they’re just white.” Her teeth worried at her lower lip, which was chapped all to hell. He really needed to find some lanolin or vaseline or something, because their faces and hands were starting to suffer.
She wasn’t winning this one, even though he suspected the tips of his ears were probably reaching the first stages of frostbite. Suspected, because he definitely couldn’t feel them anymore.
“No. And that’s final.”
The hat dangled from the end of her grip as the wind whipped it around. “There’s no one out here Joel. There’s nothing to hear, and anyway, I can hear just fine for the both of us.”
Goddamn it. She’d known immediately why he was refusing, and she had a point, and he hated it.
For better or worse there’d been nothing at all for at least four whole days—no infected, no people, not even a goddamn house. They’d spent last night huddled in a ditch while they took turns feeding pieces of sagebrush into their hastily made rocket stove until dawn (the in-ground fire had completely fascinated Ellie the first time he’d shown her how to make one, and she’d become a little expert at digging the hole while he gathered the fuel). But they discovered that sagebrush burned like paper and he’d spent half the night pulling more out of the ground because there were no fuckin’ trees out here—
It didn’t matter. That wasn’t the point. He wasn’t wearing the hat.
“Ellie, there was only one hat in the last fifty miles and I sure as hell ain’t wearing it while my—while—”
She all but shoved the hat into his chest while he struggled between kid and daughter and you, the puffball top bouncing against his coat.
“You won’t be able to hear when your fucking ears fall off, now will you? I have a hood. Put on the fucking hat.” Now she really was glaring. “It’s a good hat, Joel, and it’s too big for me anyway, so don’t tell me it won’t fit on your fatass head. Is it because it’s got pink snowflakes on it?”
“No, it ain’t because it’s got pink snowflakes on it ,” he argued. And it was a good hat. Wool, and warm, and aside from the little pink snowflakes it didn’t really stand out all that much, making them less of a target.
The real reason sat stuck somewhere between his chest and his throat.
It’s because I’m supposed to take care of you and I can’t take my kid’s hat. And I can’t wear a hat because I can’t hear worth shit with it on and it’s not your job to hear for me. And–
“Fine, you goddamn stubborn asshole,” she muttered as she stalked away. “Put it on or throw it away but I’m not taking it back. And hurry up!”
* * * * * *
They were stopped in another ditch to eat and take a break from the incessant wind when she turned to him.
“You do look nice in pink.”
Joel managed a grunt in return. He’d spent the last five miles with the damn hat on and his head on a swivel, because hearing less from his left ear and nothing from his right ear made the ever-present anxiety gnaw further into his chest. He’d taken out the rifle after two minutes and walked the whole five miles with it in his hands, even as the feeling returned to his ears in the form of hot, stinging pain.
There was nothing out here, of course. Nothing to shoot at, at least. No reason why anyone would be out here if they could help it.
Ellie reached over and lifted the hat just above his right ear. “Nice and red again,” she said with satisfaction. “And that weird little puff thing looks adorable on you.”
He shot a look at her that held more exhaustion than malice.
“Thanks Ellie,” she continued, going deep into what she called her Joel-Voice, and wandered off to pick at some sort of dead foliage in the ditch. “Really nice of you. As an old man from Texas, I was always afraid of pink. But now I realize how silly that was, and I—”
Joel didn’t mean to tune her out, but he was right about not being able to hear as well with that hat on.
He was being an ass, and he knew it. His bones ached with cold. He’d chosen this godforsaken route because neither of them were at all willing or able to deal with the possibility of running into more people—not after Silver Lake. Neither of them were sleeping, they were running low on food, and he was running low on any sort of belief that he could keep them alive until they found the Fireflies.
None of that was Ellie’s fault. This kid would rather give him her hat than watch him suffer and he was taking out his frustration on her, and he knew it.
“Hey.”
She looked up at him from her place on the ground, her little rant long forgotten. “Yeah?” She’d clearly gotten the impression that he’d been ignoring her and whatever jokes she’d made to force a reaction out of him.
He was an ass. She’d been in a relatively decent place the last couple days, despite the terrible weather, conditions--everything. She’d been trying to keep both their spirits up, had even eaten the jerky he’d made one afternoon with zero complaint and a gleam of determination in her eye–-something she’d been avoiding like the plague for the last month. Not that she had much of a choice; they’d been out of everything else. But Ellie had been trying.
The least he could do was meet her where she was.
It had gotten easier over time, looking her in the eyes, though less so when he’d been drowning in failure and even less than that when he had to admit as much to her.
“I’m sorry.” Joel chewed the last of his jerky thoughtfully, forcing himself to meet her gaze until the end of his apology. “It’s a good hat, and I needed it, and it was nice of you to loan it to me.”
Ellie nodded, her own expression unreadable. “Okay.”
“I’m giving it back when the weather clears up, though. And—” he stopped short, sorting out the next part in his head.
He’d been trying to be more honest with her, had known that always went over better than ignoring the elephant in the room, and he knew now was no exception.
“Look,” he started again, “I don’t know if you’ll understand this unless you have kids someday, but—”
She snorted. “Not likely.”
“—but for one, I shouldn’t be takin’ somethin’ you might need to keep you warm. Two, I can’t keep you safe if I can’t hear. So when I decided to wear it I was takin’ a risk and it pissed me off, both at myself and the situation. But not at you.”
“Yeah, I know.” She toed at a rock with her boot. “But we’re gonna be in a lot more trouble if your ears fall off.”
“My ears ain’t gonna fall off.”
“Not with that hat they aren’t!”
He stood slowly, trying to minimize what Ellie called his “old man noises”, and nudged her shoulder until she peered up at him.
He was never prepared for the avalanche of emotions when he caught her looking at him like this, like he’d hung the whole moon and stars. Like she still trusted him to look out for her when, objectively, things were pretty shit. As if he held her heart in his hands, the way he knew his own was clasped in hers.
He cleared his throat. “I know. Thank you.”
* * * * * *
Joel had been saving the news about the town for the afternoon, when he could see it just cresting on the horizon. Now at what he imagined to be a couple hours from dusk they’d hopefully find some sort of shelter instead of sleeping in the ditch again.
It wasn’t that Ellie’d be overjoyed at the possibility of a roof over her head—she definitely would be. It was more about where that roof was.
Dinosaur.
He knew nothing about it and had no fuckin’ clue why anyone would name a town that. It was barely a dot on the map and he didn’t hold out much hope for scavenging it. But even if there was nothing that resembled a dinosaur within, he knew just the name would make her smile.
They both needed that.
She hadn’t been paying much attention to landmarks, not that there were many, but Joel was hoping for something dramatic.
Come on, give me something here.
Finally, a crooked green road sign came into view, and as soon as they got close enough, Joel read:
Dinosaur
Elevation 5900 FT
“Hey, Ellie,” he said, stopping her by the shoulder. He inclined his head towards the sign. “Look.”
Her eyes widened.
“You see it?” Now he wasn’t sure what she’d thought of it, and maybe she was just too cold and miserable to be excited. Maybe he’d misjudged the whole thing. Maybe—
“Holy shit. Holy shit, Joel!”
And another quarter mile down the road, another sign, graced by a stegosaurus missing at least three of its spines:
“Welcome to Dinosaur, Colorado”
“JOEL.”
“Right?” He tried to tamp his smile down to a smirk instead of the grin that came instead. His face hurt, his skin hurt, Jesus— everything hurt, but for one goddamn minute, Ellie was happy.
“You knew this was coming? You knew, and didn’t tell me?” she prodded, but she wasn’t angry. Far from it. “You were gonna surprise me?” An excited smile lit her face and she punched his bicep with her glove. “Goddamn! Well you did it, man!”
It made him want to surprise her with everything she’d ever wanted. Ever.
Joel just shrugged. “Wasn’t sure if there was going to be anything to see, so…figured I’d just wait.”
Ellie was basically trying to sprint away at this point, craning her neck to see further into the illustrious town of Dinosaur, but he held her firm by the strap of her pack.
“Come on man, we’ve gotta see this place! This is soooo fucking cool!”
He sighed, and pulled her back slightly. “I get it. But we’re gonna have to treat this like any other town we come across, you got it? It’s not that big and it won’t take that long, but we gotta be careful and look around. Night’s comin’ on and we need a place to sleep.”
She nodded. “Yeah. Sure. But come on, I wanna get a better look at that sign!”
True to his suspicions, Dinosaur wasn’t that big–and from what he could tell, completely deserted. Ellie was completely thrilled by the few street signs still standing, though.
“Stegosaurus Freeway? Brontosaurus Boulevard? Joel, Jackson is gonna lose it’s shit when they hear about this, this is so amazing, and I—” she stopped short at the sight of a velociraptor statue in the parking lot of the nearby gas station. “Ohmygod.”
Joel wasn’t sure who in Jackson was really gonna lose their shit hearing about Tyrannosaurus Trail, but if Ellie was excited to go back there and tell everyone, well, that was good enough for him. He knew Tommy would get gassed up about it just for her sake, at least. And it was good to hear her making plans for Jackson—he wanted her to think of life beyond whatever the Fireflies had in store for them, even if it was just telling stories about some little town they ran across.
* * * * * *
They stayed out later than Joel would have liked, picking through houses and stores, but since nobody was around he figured he’d humor Ellie as long as he could.
Turned out that wasn’t long. As he peered at the darkening sky he must’ve had some sorta look on his face because Ellie grabbed him by the sleeve and tugged his attention away.
“What is it?” She was holding a decaying piece of plastic emblazoned with the words “Dinosaur National Monument” she’d found in the rubble of the gas station they were picking through. Upon closer inspection, it looked to Joel like a piece of a refrigerator magnet.
He almost told her to put it down, that it was just a piece of trash—but he knew it wasn’t. Not to her. Not the way she was cradling it like a newborn baby.
“We’ve gotta get a move on and set up in one of these places,” he said instead. “It’s already cold, and it’s gonna get worse.”
“Why? How can you tell?” she asked, tucking the magnet into her pack as delicately as she could.
Joel inclined his head towards the setting sun. “Ain’t no clouds out tonight. It was miserable last night, and we had clouds. It’s even colder when it’s a clear night.”
Ellie nodded, and immediately shouldered her pack. “Alright, let’s go.”
He watched her pick her way through the rusting graveyard of cars, land of Dinosaur forgotten, all business now. Joel wished (stupidly, he thought, for these things were always pointless) for the pre-outbreak version of this town just so she could revel in it to her heart’s content instead of touring this crumbling wreck for an hour, picking up trash for souvenirs.
This world was too far gone for this girl, and she deserved better. Better than this, maybe better than him. He hadn’t regretted going with her instead of sending Tommy until Silver Lake, and then he’d regretted it every day since—if only because Tommy wouldn’t have ended up like he did. Tommy would have her in Salt Lake by now.
And he’d be worrying himself sick in Jackson or somewhere else, living with his own cowardice, letting his girl down when she needed him most.
Nevermind, then.
The pit of dread that had been growing in Joel’s stomach ever since they walked into Dinosaur only grew as they wandered further down the main road. He didn’t love the idea of starting a fire in town that night (despite the place being apparently deserted, he’d made that mistake only once and it had gone badly) but depending on the temperature, they might not have a choice.
“This place is all busted to shit,” Ellie muttered as they passed through another street showcasing four or five piles of rubble that he assumed were once houses.
The years and the weather hadn’t been kind to the buildings here; almost all the structures were either caved in or leaning dangerously, and they hadn’t seen a single one he’d feel comfortable sleeping in yet.
They walked another couple of blocks until the houses started suddenly petering out, and Ellie turned to him. “I guess that’s it.”
Joel scrubbed a hand over his face, resignation settling in. “Well, there’s gotta be somewhere back there that’ll work. Come on.”
They trudged back into town, their standards for accommodations considerably lower than they were an hour ago. One sidelong glance at the noise Ellie was making and he picked up the pace; she’d been thumping her hands against her legs.
“Your hands hurt?” he asked, though he knew the answer—both the lie she’d tell, and the real truth. Hell, his own hands hurt, not to mention his feet and his face and everything else.
Ellie shrugged, but shook her hands out this time and left her thighs alone. “I’m okay,” she replied, but her voice wavered through chattering teeth.
Joel didn’t have a lot of experience with the cold aside from the years he’d spent in Boston. Winters were hard there, but no one spent much time outside if they could help it, and FEDRA at least supplied them with the basics if they were working; can’t work for a pittance if your fingers fall off, after all.
Right now he and Ellie were making do with the few things they’d been able to pick up between Silver Lake and here. It wasn’t much. Coats, gloves, one hat, and one sleeping bag they’d huddle under next to whatever fire they could manage.
Joel had never felt a cold like this, though, the way the wind sliced through every layer they were wearing, the way it made him feel like he could drop to the ground and sleep for a week. He needed to get them out of the night air and out of the wind, right fuckin’ now, before they both froze to death.
He stopped in the middle of the road, searching the stretch of wrecked houses for something that would work.
Just give me something. Anything. Just not outside.
He wasn’t sure they’d make it through the night with all limbs intact if they had to sleep outside again—it had to be at least below zero by now. There was no moon tonight, nothing to distract from the fire he knew they had to build to stay warm. Another night and Ellie would have been thrilled at the stars coming out as the sun dipped below the horizon; right now, however, she was bouncing on her toes to keep the blood flowing.
“There,” he pointed, at last spotting an outbuilding that looked like maybe a shed, or a small garage. The cinderblock walls were still standing, and the roof looked mostly intact. They marched through the brush to get a better look.
“Thank god,” he heard Ellie mutter once they were inside. “At least there’s no wind.”
He had to agree.
Upon closer inspection it did have a hole in the roof, which was fine—at least they wouldn’t suffocate with the smoke. The door, or what was left of it, was blessedly on the east side, away from the road. There didn’t look to be much inside either, save for some rusty farm tools and weeds covering the dirt floor.
It would have to do.
“Here,” he said, handing Ellie the little shard of metal he'd bent into a trowel. “Dig a little wider and deeper than usual, we’re gonna have a bigger fire tonight.”
She took it and started stabbing at the ground, and he tried not to linger on the way her hands were shaking. Thankfully, the dirt inside didn’t seem as clay-baked and frozen as the rest of the ground outside. He knew he should be doing it instead but they didn’t have the time to waste, and it was better that they both kept moving. “I’m gonna go get some wood.”
She nodded and continued to dig.
On his fifth trip in, with scraps from the ruins of the nearby house stacked along the wall of the shed, he’d decided they had enough to last the night. Ellie was already working at building a fire at the bottom of the hole with the kindling he’d found.
“Not again,” she muttered. “I can’t get the flint to work. Every time—” she fumbled again, dropping it in the main fire hole. “I can’t feel my hands, man, even with the gloves. Is this what frostbite feels like?”
He could hear the notes of panic in her voice, and it sounded a lot like the screaming in his own head.
You’re fucked, you’re fucked.
You’re gonna get her killed.
He’d almost done that already, at least once. And she’d ended up saving herself while he rotted away in a basement.
Joel dropped to his knees beside her and pulled off his own gloves. “No, not yet. Here. Hand it to me.”
She picked it out of the hole and handed it over, and he realized as he took it that his own hands were teetering on the edge of extremely painful and completely numb. They felt heavy and useless, like they’d been replaced with bricks, and the only reason he could move his fingers was because he hadn’t stopped flexing them repeatedly ever since the sun went down.
They were running out of time. Neither said it, but it hung between them like their breath in the frigid night air.
He got a flame on the first try, thank god, and Ellie’s face was immediately level with the air intake hole, blowing gently on the pile of twigs and dry weeds below.
They watched the flame flicker once, twice, and go completely out.
Goddamn it.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Joel repeated, as much to himself as to Ellie, who was silent next to him. “We just try again.”
There was no reason why the flint wouldn’t work, it was fine, the twigs and the dry grass was fine— it’s fine, it’s okay, we’ll get it working, he found himself murmuring again, but this time Ellie just lay on the ground next to the intake hole, her legs drawn up to her chest.
“Tell me when to blow,” she whispered. “I’m just gonna lay here. I’m so tired.”
Joel hadn’t seen anyone freeze to death before, but some nagging part of his brain told him that both he and Ellie should be far more alert than either of them seemed. Exhaustion was dragging on him, weighing him down almost as much as his freezing limbs, and the ground looked better and better with each failed attempt.
His hands were white, flaking at the knuckles. He didn’t even want to remove Ellie’s gloves to check on hers; they probably weren’t any better than his.
She looked up at him from her place on the ground, her eyes glassy and distant. “Now?” She tilted her head downward, ready to feed the flame at the right moment, and a shot of terror went straight through him at how frozen she looked. Little bits of frost were clinging to her eyelashes, even her cheeks that were previously red with windburn had turned ghostly pale. If she closed her eyes, she’d look—
No.
He didn’t pray, there was nothin’ to pray to, but even still.
Please.
“Just hang on baby, just one sec, I’ll get this done.”
He had to. He had to. There was no other option. Panic and resolve took turns fighting for control as he readjusted the flint and tried again.
* * * * * * *
It took four more attempts and a lot of muttered curses on his part, but at last they had fire. Joel's shoulders sagged with relief as he watched the tinder take light, and he immediately began feeding small slivers of wood into the hole almost faster than they burned. He pulled the sleeping bag around Ellie and dragged her as close as he could to the flames without starting both of them on fire.
He then shoved his gloves back on and took her hands in his, rubbing them furiously. She wasn’t about to lose any fingers on his watch.
“Ow—Joel, seriously, that hurts,” she complained, and attempted to pull away. “Lemme sleep.”
“Good,” he replied, gritting his teeth together to stop them from chattering. “And no, you ain’t sleepin’ yet. We want them to hurt. It’s worse if they don’t,” he said as he continued to rub them, pulling them both closer to the fire. “We’re doing your feet next.”
“The hell we are,” she muttered. “We’re doing your feet next.”
Once she could move her hands freely again and complained enough about the sting, he fished their water out of his pack and began heating it over the flame. It wasn’t much; water had been hard to come by and they’d had to hike well off the road to find this last bit of it. He’d have to find more tomorrow, what with there being no snow right now–-but tonight they were both putting as much hot water in their bodies as they could manage.
“Mmm, my favorite, clear soup,” Ellie smirked.
Well, she was making jokes again. That was something.
“I actually like drinking hot water now,” she continued. “Something kind of cozy about it.”
“Well, you’d like tea then,” Joel replied. “I bet they have some in Jackson if you ever wanted to try it.”
She nodded, and readjusted the metal canteen over the flame. “As long as it’s not as gross as coffee, my dude.”
“It’s not nearly as good as coffee,” he said, and moved to untie her boots. “Let’s see what the damage is.”
He didn’t really want to think about his own feet at this point. The pain hadn’t quite gone away, which he assumed was a good thing, but if he ended up having to walk on frozen feet till a couple of toes fell off, well, it was what it was.
Ellie winced as he slid her boots off. He could feel how cold she was even with two pairs of socks on.
“That feels…weird, man. I can feel them, but I can’t.”
He nodded in reply, and began gently kneading her socked feet, one in each hand.
“Wait!” She stopped him. “Seriously though, what about your feet?”
“My feet are fine. I’ll deal with it later.”
She glared at him. “Deal with it now. I can fix my own feet, see?” She leaned over and squeezed her toes, and grimaced. “Ouch. Now come sit and we’ll both roast our feet over the fire.” She scooted over and held out his half of the sleeping bag. “C’mere.”
He hesitated, staring intently at the flame inside the hole like there was something he could do to improve it. There wasn’t.
“Please, Joel?” he heard her say. “I don’t—can you just worry less about me for a minute? I’m okay.”
Joel opened his mouth to protest, to tell her how impossible it was for him to do anything for himself before she was taken care of, to tell her how wrong it felt while there were still things he could—should—do for her, but one look at her expectant face shut him up.
He made no attempt to hide the popping of his knees as he joined her by the fire. She shivered involuntarily, and he put his arm around her shoulders lightly, just until she leaned into it, and then he pulled her closer. She let out a sigh, and fiddled with the broken zipper on the edge of the sleeping bag.
He was still so careful about touch—most of the time she was fine with it, but he never made any move too quick or unexpected if he could help it, because she’d get that faraway look in her eye and her hand would fly to her knife and she’d end up apologizing and retreating into her cave of silence for the rest of the day.
They sat like that for a long while, watching the light of the small fire dance along the walls, the feeling slowly returning to their feet. Joel finally toed his boots off when he was afraid the soles were in danger of melting so close to the flame.
“Feeling better?” Ellie asked, as they passed the canteen of hot water back and forth.
“Mmm,” he agreed. “You?”
“Yeah.”
A beat, and then she murmured, almost to herself: “It got cold in Boston, but I don’t remember it being this cold.”
“Me neither, kid. I think it’s the wind. It’s different here.”
“Where I was at, at my school? They didn’t really turn the heat on, and we only usually had the one blanket. I slept with like three pairs of pants on one night,” she chuckled. “Sometimes we slept like four to a bed just so we could stop shivering.”
Joel let out a frustrated huff. “Assholes,” he muttered in reply. And he’d been what, a couple miles away? The whole time, her whole life, and he’d been smuggling drugs and fuckin’ people up and gettin’ fucked up by those same drugs when he couldn’t take it anymore. Not seeing anybody or anything except what was right in front of him. And sure, he knew people were suffering. They were all suffering. But Ellie and the rest of those kids had no one, no one but each other. No adult to make sure they were okay, to tell ‘em it was gonna be okay. Even if it wasn’t—not really.
He was still enough of a parent to know the power of reassurance by somebody bigger and stronger and older than you.
Ellie looked up at him, nudged his arm, and he realized his whole body had tensed up again. “Hey. You’re doing that thing with your jaw where I’m afraid you’re gonna break your teeth off.”
Joel leaned over and rested his cheek on the top of her head, which he knew would keep him from doing it again. “Sorry. I didn’t realize.”
“You do that when I talk about FEDRA. I’ve noticed.”
“Huh.” He stared into the fire again, coming around to his own thoughts, figuring out how to put it a way she’d understand. He came up empty. Just like she hadn’t understood why he didn’t want her hat, he knew she wouldn’t really understand the white hot rage that flowed through his veins when he thought too much about what his girl went through at the hands of someone else.
She sighed again, and stared back at the fire. “It’s nice,” she whispered.
“What’s that?” He slowed his breathing, made sure he could catch what she said next, ‘cause she was on the wrong side and whatever it was he had a feeling she wouldn’t repeat it.
“Having somebody take care of you. Or care about you.”
“...Yeah. It is.” He shifted, tossing another couple sticks down the stove, and they watched it flame up again. “You shouldn’t have to, but I appreciate you tellin’ me when I’m bein’ a jackass, you know. With the hat and the boots and all that.”
She grinned into his coat. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
* * * * * *
Later on they’d both warmed up enough to lay down after Joel had shoved an ancient plow against the door and insisted they both put their boots back on. She was sandwiched between him and the fire as she stared up at the stars through the hole in the roof.
“I’ll take first watch,” she offered. “I’m not tired at all anymore. Plus, you know,” she gestured at the roof, “I’ve got my entertainment here.”
He pursed his lips, not liking the idea. “I don’t think you need to do that. You need to sleep.”
“You need to sleep, old man.”
“Ellie,” he protested, but he knew it was useless, and he was tired. Still, he waited a minute just so she didn't think she'd convinced him that easily. “Fine. Wake me up in a couple hours. Do not let me sleep longer than that or I’ll make you leave without looking through that other gas station at the end of town.”
“There’s another one? Oh shit!” She pumped her fist. “I bet they’ve got some good stuff in there too. The mysteries of Dinosaur await, Joel!”
He readjusted his pack under his head. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep now, what with all this excitement,” he replied, deadpan as all hell but relishing the thought that she was still looking forward to something.
A few moments later she turned to him. “Joel?”
“Hmmm?”
“Were we in real trouble back there? If we couldn’t get the fire started? ‘Cause your hands were numb and mine were numb and you got all weird for a minute. You were talking to yourself.”
“I was?”
“...yeah.”
He was half asleep already, bone-deep exhaustion taking over, but he knew what she needed to hear. There was a place for honesty and a place for lies, and this one little lie would get both of them through tonight. Maybe if he said it out loud, he’d believe it too.
“No, Ellie. We were always gonna be okay. Nothin’ was gonna happen to us.”
She turned to the stars again. “Right. Because you’re the—”
“Don’t say it.”
“—the Contractorrrrr.”