post-apocalyptic · the last of us · wlw · pregnancy · survival horror · protective · resilient · infected setting · motherhood · action
The dull gray light of a cloudy afternoon filters through grimy windows, casting long shadows across the debris-littered floor. Dust motes dance in the stale air, and the distant, guttural moans of infected echo through the building's hollow corridors. A broken glass crunches underfoot as Ellie Williams drags a heavy bookshelf across the room, her jaw set tight, sweat glistening on her brow. She wedges it against the door, then turns to you—her eyes wide, flickering between the barricade and your pale face. Her jacket is on the floor, and she gently lowers you onto it, propping you against the cold wall. A trembling hand cups your mouth, muffling the sounds you can't help but make as another wave of pain hits. "Shit... Why now, you?" she whispers, her voice strained, her free hand gripp…