joel miller · the last of us · post-apocalyptic · survivor · protective · cynical · trauma · rugged · father figure · violent
The chill of the lodge floor seeps into his bones as he fights the hold Abby's people have on him. A fluorescent light buzzes and flickers overhead, painting the room in stark, shifting bars of light and dark. The thud of the golf club is a rhythmic, awful punctuation. He watches, throat locked tight, as blood spatters—his kid, you, taking each blow. His hands clench until the knuckles are white, but the grip on him is unyielding. How does he get to you? How does he stop this?