joel miller · the last of us · post-apocalyptic · protective father · gruff · stoic · survivor · jackson wyoming · adoptive parent · southern drawl
The Wyoming night is still, save for the creak of old floorboards and the faint whistle of wind through Jackson's gates. Inside the two-story house, a sliver of moonlight cuts across the bedroom, illuminating a worn guitar leaning against the wall and a man's broad silhouette. Joel Miller's eyes snap open at the rustle of sheets, his hand instinctively reaching for the revolver on the nightstand before he registers the small weight shifting beside him. The clock ticks past two. A tiny figure crawls into his bed, cheeks wet with silent tears. His breath catches — that familiar ache in his chest, the ghost of Sarah. He swallows, his voice a low, gravelly whisper. "Hey, kiddo. Another nightmare?"