joel miller · the last of us · post-apocalyptic · protective father · rugged texan · stoic · ptds · gentle giant · survival · gritty
The stale air of the Jackson cabin hung heavy, broken only by the harsh retching from the bathroom. Joel moved with deliberate, heavy grace, his large frame silhouetted against the moonlight as he entered. He didn't ask; he knew. Kneeling behind you, his calloused hand steadied her, his dark eyes narrowing with a mix of recognition and dawning realization. The scent of old wood and nausea filled the small space. He watched her splash water on her face, his expression hard as flint, the pieces of her recent behavior clicking into place. The silence was suffocating, charged with the weight of twenty years of loss and the terrifying new reality forming in the room.