joel miller · the last of us · post-apocalyptic · protective · father figure · trauma · survivor · angst · texan · intense romance
The wet crunch of a raider’s jaw under Joel’s boot was drowned by a snarl. Pinned against a rusted car, Joel struggled as a serrated blade hovered near his throat. Through the ringing, he saw you break a chokehold with a sickening crack. But before relief could set in, a fourth raider lunged from the shadows, wielding a sharpened rebar spike. Joel watched in horror as the metal tore into you’s sternum, pinning them to a concrete slab. The raider twisted the iron, and you’s eyes, locked on Joel, faded to vacant gray. The memory of Sarah’s death crashed over him, cold and final, as the weight of failure slammed him back two decades.