You didn't need taking care of, but when you did, it was nice to have someone to watch over you. Joel was that person for you, and although he rarely admitted it, you were that person for him. Sometimes, when he saw someone that reminded him of his daughter Sarah, you'd see a change in his eyes - so subtle, but something that sent a shiver through you. After those moments, he would always be more protective - an arm around you during a Fedra Rally; a step ahead in a darkened alley; an extra slice of bread on your plate when you were last in line for food and others had taken more than their share.
Joel admitted one day, whilst the two of you were 'enjoying' a drink -- Fedra brewed alcohol was grim -- that you were the first and last person to ever ask if he was ok. He said it so casually over the kitchen table and you didn't know why it struck such a nerve, but you stood up and hugged him.
That's when you learnt that whilst Joel hated public displays of physical affection, in private, he needed nothing more than for someone to show him they cared. Even though his hugging skills were rusty -- all his emotions beyond grumpy were rusty -- that didn't stop him.
At first he went rigid, but you'd known Joel in the QZ for 4 years, and knew all you had to do was stick it out. So you did, one arm around his neck and the other around his waist, holding on tightly as your fingers curled around the fabric of his shirt. At first, nothing, but then his arms slowly but surely crept around you, holding you tighter than you'd ever remembered been held as he sunk his face into the crook of your neck. He took a deep breath, fingers splaying across your back. You stayed in that same position for as long as he needed you to, so long that at some point you ended up on his lap. After all, you'd learnt to never pull away from a hug first. When Joel did, his eyes were red, and you pretended to not notice a tear fall from his cheek as he swiftly inhaled, taking with the breath all his emotions. But they were less buried than before, and you hoped that with time they'd come back for good.
From that point onwards it was an unspoken rule between you. You and Joel mostly had different shifts, and when the two of you got home, the first thing you did was hug. It was reassurance. It was friendship. It was hope. When you did work the same shifts, you hugged all the same.
***
You were walking back from work one afternoon; it wasn't uncommon for you to leave early, especially when your shift started at 5 in the morning and the Fedra agent watching over you had decided to skip lunch break, when suddenly, something hit you over the back of the head.
You were only aware that you'd been knocked unconscious when you woke up, tied to a chair and struggling to see out of one eye.
"I'm sorry y/n," said a man sitting in front of you, and immediately you groaned. "I told the boys to fetch you, they weren't meant to be so... hands on."
"Robert?" you mumbled, wincing at the pain in your head. You'd been dealing with this scumbag for weeks, trying to get a car battery for Joel so the two of you could find his brother. A rift had separated them - Tommy had joined the fireflies against Joel's wishes, and had promptly vanished from the QZ. Eventually his replies had stopped, and you'd been the one to watch Joel descend into his inner turmoil as he made plans to get his brother back.
"So, here's the thing," Robert said, rubbing his hands together anxiously. "I accidentally sold the car battery to someone else."
"Shit," you said. Joel would be so upset. But you wanted to make sure you'd get out of the dingy basement you were in, so you weren't about to go letting on.
"It's not like I planned on... ripping you off." Robert rubbed his face in his hands. "I'm sorry."
"Well," you shrugged, a heavy migraine coming on. "How about we just let it go?" Robert looked surprised. "What else are you gonna do?" you asked logically. "Ya gonna keep me here? Kill me?"
"y/n, c'mon," he said, thinking you were making a joke, but you were deadly serious.
"Then, Robert... what do you want?"
"I want you to forget this ever happened."
"Done."
"Don't do that."
"What?" you said, stating the facts. "It's just a truck battery. I paid you for it, you sold it to someone else, and you spent my money. I mean, you think I've never done shit like that?"
"My guys fucked you up," Robert said anxiously.
"Yeah, so discipline them. You cut off a finger or whatever the fuck you want. I don't care. They're your fucking guys."
What about your guy? 'Cause when he sees you, I mean, put yourself in my shoes."
your guy. You liked how Robert called Joel 'your guy.' It made you feel a warmth inside that nothing else did.
"Look, he answers to me," you lied. "So, I give you my word that he won't hurt you." When Robert groaned and shook his head, you fought impatiently against your restraints. "I'll tell him that I got jumped by... some guys, and then you and I can just move on."
Silence, as Robert contemplated everything.
"Now your shit has pretty much ruined my week, and I'd like to go home and drink 'til my face stops hurting," you said. "So, are we good?"
"Yeah," Robert said, and he stood up to untie you. But as he did there was an explosion that made your vision go white and your ears ring, and you flew backwards, hitting a wall.
For the second time in the same number of hours, you'd been knocked unconscious. It couldn't be healthy. When you came too, you were covered in rubble and ash, and had to push your way out of the pile and exit the basement through what was once just a wall. As you crawled onto the street, coughing up your lungs, you could hear a siren going off.
"All citizens must clear the surrounding area immediately Do not return until FEDRA authorities permit." It seemed so distant, but then you could hear gunfire, and saw Fedra agents marching down the street. You sunk down b the wall on the corner of the street, sweat making your hair cling to your face.
"Oh shit," you panicked. If Fedra agents saw you, they'd think you a firefly bomber, and --
"On your knees! On your knees!" You raised your hands in surrender as a group of agents charged at you, knocking you to the ground despite your surrender.
"No, no! I'm not a F..." you cried out as you took a boot to the jaw. "I'm not a, I'm not a Firefly!"
But they didn't listen to your protests as they dragged you away.
***
A night in the slammer wasn't something anyone wanted, and when you got out, you could barely walk. Fedra punishments were brutal. Some were pressured by their peers to doll out corporal punishment, some needed to relieve their stress on something that would react, and some were just plain sadistic. You seemed to have been saddled with the plain sadistic, and had taken a beating like no other.
You limped home, having no choice but to take the long way as you knew that fireflies would be out and causing more trouble in the centre of town. It was early in the morning when you opened the door, and Joel was still fast asleep, so you crept over on tiptoes.
There had been a few times in the past when you shared a bed; the first time you had to burn the body of a child, Joel couldn't get you to stop crying, and he'd held you gently, rocking you back and forth until eventually the mental exhaustion put you to sleep. The second time was when you'd lost another friend to a trigger happy Fedra agent, and the third was when you'd been beaten by an agent when smuggling him pills. You asked for the plastic bag that they were in back, and he'd had you on the ground within seconds. Thankfully Joel had found you, otherwise it would have ended very differently.
You never knew why Joel would sometimes crawl into bed with you, lying quietly just for the sake of your company. He never gave you a reason, but you never said no. He had his issues, same as you.
This time, the beating you'd taken was much worse than any you'd had, and you knew Joel wouldn't mind sharing a bed. If anything, you worried that he'd hunt down Robert and the agent who hurt you, and that would get him in trouble. You smelt the alcohol coming from him the moment you sat down and sighed. Joel was still in his clothes. He must have drunk a lot; hopefully not because of you not showing up.
Pulling your jacket from your shoulders with a pained gasp, you lowered yourself down, curling into Joel's back and wrapping your arms around his waist. He grabbed your hands in his sleep and pulled them further around him, and the pain in your ribs was somewhat soothed by the warmth radiating from his back.
You barely got any sleep that night, and was up before Joel. You made sure to angle your seat away from him so when he woke up you had time to explain what had happened, make sure he took a calm approach.
But of course that wasn't going to happen. Where you safety was concerned, anyone who hurt you was dead, and he'd be on the war path until then.
"Morning," he said, voice gruff from sleep as he wandered to the kitchen and poured himself some coffee, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"Morning Joel," you said, and before you could say anything he turned to you. The sun had risen through the window, casting a golden light across your bloody face, and Joel's eyes darkened in anger as he was in front of you within seconds, this thumb gently lifting up your chin.
"What happened to you," he said quietly.
"Oh, you know, jumped, blown up, beaten," you chuckled, trying to lighten the mood, but the movement hurt your face and you winced which had the opposite effect.
"By who?"
"A couple guys."
"What guys?"
"Just a couple teenagers," you lied. "I said some shit, probably shouldn't've."
"Don't make excuses for them y/n," Joel whispered. You watched as he walked back to the kitchen, fishing a cloth from the cupboard and running it under the cold water.
"Come on. You know these guys were born after the outbreak. They never learned how to argue. They just start swinging."
Joel shook his head, grabbing his chair and pulling it close to yours. His knee slipped slightly between your thighs as he leant forward, gently dabbing at your face. His eyes flickered up and down your body as he did, noting how you held yourself. There were more wounds than just on your face.
"Fucking teenage pieces of shit," he muttered, his hand holding your head as the white ragged turned red. You let your head rest in his hands, his fingers gently rubbing your scalp. "It's a miracle you're alive."
"It's a miracle any of us are alive." Joel grunted in response, and then as he pulled your arm into his lap to clean a cut along your arm, he noticed an aging bruise from Robert's cronies.
"These aren't new," he said.
"No. I was in FEDRA lockup all night."
"Oh y/n, I could have --"
"--No you couldn't," you said kindly. "Don't do that to yourself. "Anyway, it doesn't matter." You waited patiently for Joel to clean you up; for someone with such a concrete exterior, he was the gentlest person you knew. When he stood to chuck the rag in the sink, you took a deep breath.
"Joel..."
"What?"
"The guys who jumped me were with Robert. He sold our battery to someone else."
"I need the battery, y/n. Truck's no good without one, and if I don't get to Tommy soon, he's gonna die out there."
"We'll get our money back and the battery."
"Who'd he sell it to?"
"I Don't know."
"Where is he?"
"I Don't know," you said, and Joel slammed his fists against the table. It made you flinch and he looked at you apologetically.
"It's not your fault," he said.
"We'll find the buyer," you said. "But listen Joel, I promised Robert that you wouldn't hurt him."
"I would very much like to hurt him," Joel answered, and you didn't tell him not to.
"So let's go hunt that motherfucker down, get our battery and our truck, and then we'll go find Tommy, all right?"
"All right."