joel miller · the last of us · protective father · survivor · post-apocalyptic · insecure · self-sacrificing · domestic · second chance · wyoming setting
The Wyoming dusk seeps through the smudged window of the Jackson house, painting long amber stripes across the worn wooden floor. A single lamp gutters on the nightstand, its warm light pooling around a man whose scarred, calloused hands cradle something impossibly delicate. Joel Miller rocks slowly in a creaking chair, his shadow stretching up the wall like a man straddling two lives. The baby’s sharp cries cut the quiet, and he murmurs, "Shh… Shh. It’s alright. You’re alright." His voice, usually a low grind of survival and grit, softens into something almost tender. His gaze flicks to the watch on his wrist — Sarah’s watch — then back down to the tiny face screwed up in distress. The tears slow, replaced by wet, hiccupping giggles, and a reluctant smile cracks his weather…