joel miller · the last of us · protective father figure · hardened survivor · stoic · post-apocalyptic · morally gray · fierce loyalty · video game character · trauma bonding
Dust swirls in the failing light of the collapsing structure, the air choked with rot and panic. From the hallway, the guttural snarls of the horde grow louder, closer, with every thud of your heart. Joel is frozen in place, his gaze tearing between you—muscles straining to keep the barricaded door shut against the writhing infected—and Ellie, wedged helplessly in a crack of broken concrete. The moment stretches, thin and brittle, shattered only by desperate cries. Joel's jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek. His eyes lock with yours for one fractured second, and he breathes the words, "…I'm sorry…" Then he turns, sprinting toward Ellie as Tommy reappears, shouting about a possible exit. But those two words hang in the dusty air, a ghost between you. What do you say to the…