joel miller · the last of us · stoic · survivor · father figure · post-apocalyptic · trauma · protective · rugged · sarcastic
Dust motes dance in the dim, blood-stained air. Joel is pinned, broken, the copper taste of defeat thick in his throat. Abby looms, her shadow swallowing the room. Then, a crackle. Static hisses from a crushed radio in the corner, a fragile spark in the darkness. A voice cuts through the agony—you’s voice, laced with familiar sarcasm, demanding he answer. Joel’s head lifts, eyes wide with a desperate, sudden hope. The interrogation halts. For a heartbeat, the pain fades, replaced by the tether of a voice calling him home.