paradisa | First Shot

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tess

First Shot

[Everything changes with the bat of an eye.

While she registers the change immediately, it takes a moment to truly sink in. Tess finds herself in what could only be a dream –– she hasn't seen a bedroom so immaculate and new and utterly inviting outside of old magazines in decades, and she's certainly never slept in one. She's never even stayed in a hotel this nice, never had her own place with such crisp, perfect white linens. The very act of being in a well-kept bedroom is jarring and discomforting and panic-inducing.

The only thing that keeps her from outright panicking is the fact that she still has her handgun in her hands, her arms outstretched to point it at some invisible intruders, her finger laid against the side of the gun, ready to move to the trigger at a heartbeat's notice––

Seconds ago, there had been bullets, and Joel and Ellie's retreating footsteps––

There's an assortment of things on the dresser, a hairbrush that had likely never even approached anyone's scalp, a comb with all its teeth, a jewelry box that looks freshly polished––

There had been a throbbing in her chest and collarbone and neck, and––

No, no, the throbbing is still there, the collar of her shirt half-stuck to the mess that is her throat, and Tess could (and can) feel it almost thrumming under her skin, almost moving––

Tess backs up into a wall, her support hand leaving the base of the gun in favour of splaying against the immaculate paint. Purple. The walls are rich, warm purple, without so much as a hairline crack, and Tess is pressing the grime of her skin and clothes against it. She feels like she needs to apologize, even when there is no one around to apologize to.

She's alone here, almost. Alone as any host is.

She's not sure if she can "feel" the infection crawling under her skin because she knows it's working its way towards her brain so that it might kill her, or if there really are cordyceps tendrils spawning in her veins, winding through her muscle tissue and up her neck to her skull. Have they reached her brain yet? Will it hurt when they do?

Of course it's going to hurt, she tells herself, almost angrily. But Joel and Ellie are gone, and oh thank god, Joel is gone, Joel doesn't have to see this, and there are no soldiers to shoot her like a fucking rabid dog, and it's just her and the gun and this immaculate not-quite-afterlife hotel room.

It was easy to maintain her composure when she had work to do and Joel to protect –– she couldn't let him see her die or turn or suffer, she had her pride and her obligations to her goddamn partner –– but now she's alone and she is going to become a monster if she doesn't put herself out of her own misery.

Tess fits the barrel of the gun to her chin.

Don't be such a fucking coward, Tess.

She pulls it away, takes a hard breath, and closes her eyes for a beat.

It's only been a few hours. You've got hours. Maybe twelve hours, or twenty-four, or maybe even forty-eight––

When she opens her eyes, they settle immediately on the window across from "her" bedroom wall. More importantly, they settle on what appears to be a distant city basking under a summer sun, and for an instant she thinks of being a teenager again, when she dreamed of backpacking across Europe. There were lots of pictures of little French cities all over the Internet, back then, cities that could still feel like quaint little towns despite their sprawl.

For a moment, she just stares in silence, and then she says:]

Couldn't pick a nicer fucking place to die, huh...

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[Joel just shuts his eyes and shakes his head. The two of them were always way too heavy for Ellie's own good, but there was a spark of horrible, unspoken truth in that exchange. Yeah, sure, she'd gotten his ass over to the Fireflies. Just so he could massacre them all to save one little girl. He's not sure Ellie understands that reality all the way yet, but he knows for a fact that Tess doesn't have a clue.

What would she do if he told her all about it? Those weren't waters he wanted to test right now. Tess had seemed hellbent on some pre-death idea of redemption that Joel had refused to buy from her. Survivors, not shitty people. He heaves another careful sigh and draws a path down the length of her forearm before letting that hand fall back to his side.

He blinks at her, tiredly. Texas. He never thought he'd hear that nickname in that same exact voice ever again. God.]

You wanna do this with pills? [Tired, exhausted words. He's bargaining with her on the best way to kill her.] That's gonna steal more time away from you than's strictly necessary, you know.

[Tess steps away from him, trying to find something else to fixate her attention on. She has this horrible mental image of being too far gone before Joel is willing to do it, and there's nothing relieving about only being shot when she's clawing and thrashing about. How many hours are enough before she can check out on his terms?

"Suicide" seems like the wrong word for any of this, not when she's going to die regardless.]

You wanna make this uglier than it has to be? At least I'd be responsible for it, not you.

[She pauses to wipe at her eyes again and then takes a deep breath. Compose yourself, compose yourself, you didn't spend twenty years rising to power only to cry about it all at the end. Tess forces herself to sound a little more resolved, a little more firm.]

And what are we gonna do with that time, anyway? Sit here and talk and write my eulogy together? Go for a stroll and talk about old times? Try to find a cure for cordyceps? The infection doesn't exactly have far to travel. I might not have that much time to begin with.

[Joel paces off to the side and rubs a hand over his jaw, muttering under his breath. She always did this. She's always doing this, he corrects himself, because she's still here. He turns back around and shrugs at her, arms crossing over his chest. Body language that's deliberately casual and teeming with anxiety at the same time.

He wants to take this conversation away from Ellie right about now.]

Fuck it, Tess. Let's go for a walk.

[Why not? Why the hell not? He's got a gun in his back-pocket.]

What have we got to lose?

Edited 2013-08-28 17:22 (UTC)

[A walk to the gallows. She can appreciate that, albeit in a strange, self-depreciating way. She'll even go willingly. After a brief moment of consideration, she nods –– yes, he can lead her out behind the shed. Only Joel could do that.]

Nothing worth keeping.

[She's dead anyway.]

Let's go for a walk.

[Her eyes turn to Ellie. There's so much she could say, but brief is best.]

Don't you let this be for nothing, kiddo.

[Ellie can't help but laugh at that; a short, almost hollow sound.]

You don't need to tell me that. It's been my fucking mantra for months now. Well, one of them, at least.

[Compartmentalizing hard now. Don't think about what you have to do until the very last second, then just do it. Joel looks down and shakes his head when she capitulates, almost wishing she would fight him on this. Anything would be better than hearing nothing worth keeping and knowing she was right. If he refuses to do this, it spreads.

The nightmare would start all over again. That's what he has to repeat to himself in order to keep moving. That's the one. Joel forces himself to move, to stride back towards the door with quick and focused steps. She's having her last exchange with the kid. Great.

Another big fucking coincidence there, that choice of words. Joel looms by the doorway and with arms crossed and waits for Tess to exit first. He won't look at Ellie until her back is good and turned and she's mostly out the door.

But when he does, it's a pointed look. We're doing it your way now, kiddo.]

[A bare, grim smile, tired as the day is long.]

Attagirl.

[She raises a hand in a silent goodbye when she turns to follow Joel. By the door she shucks off her backpack, leaving it by the door with a dull thud, leaving her with only her handgun –– not that she'll need it, but she's never been more than a few feet from her handgun for as long as she can remember, and familiarity is comfort. She then steps out ahead of Joel without looking back. She hasn't even been outside the room yet.

Her eyes fall on the brass nameplate by the door almost immediately, and her name engraved in it. She reaches out to thumb a smudge across its surface, like she needs to double-check that it's real.

Bye, Ellie.]

Edited 2013-08-28 22:16 (UTC)

[Just keep moving. Don't look at her for too long. Don't watch when she touches her name-plate and don't give into that urge to yank her in close after striding a few steps down the hall with her. It's just gonna make everything harder, just gonna make everything hurt more.

He's a certified expert at doing the opposite of every natural, human instinct that comes to him, a skill that has been hammered into him by time and inhuman experiences. Joel is silent at first.

If the castle had any of that "magic" stuff (and it did, he'd seen it but he kept forgetting because magic) it better start working now and do them a huge favor.]

We better go outside. And far.

[Stating the obvious. Almost growling to himself instead of speaking to her, striding towards the direction he remembers the exit is in. Shit.]

[Tess glances at Joel, having expected him to give Ellie some sort of parting word or instruction or something, but she chooses not to remark on it. What would be the point? She keeps in step next to him, happy to fill in the silence by looking around her –– she's never been outside "her" room. Is this what a paradise looks like, a long hotel stretch with cute little nameplates? Christ, is that a working elevator up ahead? Amazing how little LED lights can fill you with wonder.]

Lead the way, Joel.

[Even that's unusual. Since when did she ever follow him around? His legs might not be much longer than hers, but suddenly she has to strain to keep up with his long strides. Isn't she usually the one telling him to keep up?

After a moment, she pipes up:]

Hey.

[He's definitely moving too fast and too hard now, cutting corners. He didn't want to see any expression on Ellie's face that might cut deep. He doesn't want to face her later with another horror settling between them, another painful truth that he would tell her to ignore, ignore, ignore.]

What?

[Not the elevator, the stairs. As quick as he's going, he doesn't want it to be that quick. He slows down at the start of their descend and spares her a glance; he'd asked for this and now he was clipping his words and rushing through it. Asshole.]

Jesus Christ, Tess. [So there's that, quiet and murmured. And it doesn't amount to much but he's teetering in between shaken and utterly composed. Can't seem to find his middle ground.]

[Tess follows him, frowning when he affords her only the barest of glances. Christ, she feels afraid to touch him, afraid to infect him too and doom them all, so when she catches up to him, she reaches as if to touch his arm but pulls back at the last moment. Less than an hour ago she'd been begging to his face to get Ellie to the Fireflies and try to save the whole fucking world, pleading with him about sense of obligation. It was the exact same thing. How do you comfort someone when you want comfort for yourself, especially with all these awful walls?]

You said it's been a while.

[She pauses. Oh fuck, Tess, just say it.]

I know it wasn't easy for you. After Tommy left, even after everything you did to keep him alive. [She can't mention Sarah. She won't.] I wanted to be sure you're alright. [Fuck.] That Ellie's takin' care of you in my place.

[He remembers his own words to the little girl. You don't bring up Tess, ever. And then Bill had brought up Tess more than once and he'd snapped at him in the end for it, but at least back in their own world there were constant interruptions. There was always a reason to leave behind the past and always something to focus on in the near future. Here, in what was supposed to be paradise, he couldn't find his footing and deal with these things in any way that made sense.

And there she goes, saying things that she shouldn't say. When she almost touches him he feels that urge again-- yank her in, hug her, something. Something real. Maybe even kiss her, but she'd shoot him first for how much risk he'd be taking with that one.

Joel slows down and stares at each step he takes. He can feel it in his face: he just looks tired, depressed and he can't put it all away. And this place is so well-lit.]

She is.

[He doesn't really wanna go in this direction, but she leaves him no choice. He's probably gonna have to lie to her, too.]

We're with Tommy now. Well, we were. [A beat.] He got hitched.

Edited 2013-08-30 00:06 (UTC)

[Tess knew not to expect much, but even this feels bare.]

Congratulations to Tommy, then. I'm glad for him.

[She looks at him, trying to figure out how long it's been. A year? Maybe two? It can't have been that long, yet he looks greyer, somehow. Definitely thinner. Did he have trouble getting by without her? Were things so dire outside of the Quarantine Zone?

Tess frowns.]

Do I get to know what happened before I go on my way?

[He knows she's trying.]

A lot, Tess. Been almost a year. We went all over the country chasing those damn Fireflies.

[God, he needed to figure out how to do this right because he'd asked it of her. But all he can think is to fall back on what he knows. He meets her worried, upsetting gaze and the first thing that comes to mind is to revisit a question that haunted him. If she wanted confessions, he could do confessions. Or at least half-ones.

This was their last chance. A real last chance, not a hurried one, and now what to do with it?]

Why did you ask me what I knew about you?

Edited 2013-08-30 00:38 (UTC)

[Her breath catches in her throat for the smallest moment; that had slipped away from her mind, and it takes a second to bring it back. She'd accused him of knowing nothing about them, knowing nothing about her –– she'd been panicking and stewing for the past hour over the bite and then he'd jumped on her for being so stupid–– but what good would honesty do them right now? What good would it be to rub it in his face?]

... Fuck, Joel, I was panicking.

[It feels so vulnerable to even admit it. Panic. Tess didn't panic.]

I just knew it was over, and I got to thinking. Give me a break.

You wanna talk, right? About something real?

[There isn't really a lot of bite in his words. Tired. She'd asked if he was doing alright, but there was no way he could sum up his journey with Ellie for her and keep his wits about him at the same time. If he's choosing, he's going back. Even if that's a murky mess, as well.]

I know it wasn't exactly you at your best. That doesn't mean I don't think about it every day.

[Christ, she almost hesitates. About something real? They can talk work, and drops, and contraband, and terrorist groups, and connections, and how shitty that week's rations have been, but what has every constituted real in their books without a couple rare bottles of good alcohol?

Does it really take death to bring it up?]

You wanna talk real?

[A heavy sigh, and then she reaches for his arm, winds her skinny fingers around his forearm and tugs him to a halt, digging her heels in.]

I said that because after all our time together, all I had left was to hope that you felt you owed me enough to finish the job without me, alright? Maybe it was a shitty way to say it, maybe it was shitty that I left it like that, but we never opened up to each other the way we should have. And now I'm screwed.

For fuck's sake, Joel. Do you really want to hear it now, when you're walking me to my grave?

Edited 2013-08-30 01:32 (UTC)

[Feels like he's walking on a tightrope. He's not used to this, neither of them are. He doesn't know which direction to go with it and the fact that all they had was her death and time was making it worse. When she stops him, forcibly, his chin drops and his face darkens.

Well, that was real.]

Better now than never. [You almost have to strain to hear him. He picks up his head and picks up the strength of his voice. He finds her eyes and locks in on them.] This is it, right? This is all we have to work with. I can't even touch you.

[They were physical, not verbal. Not in the ways that counted, as she'd pointed out. But he barrels forward into that unfamiliar territory and emotion works itself into his voice in rough and shoddy ways before he can clean it out.]

So what do you want from me, huh, Tess? You wanna hear about how rough it's been since you went away, or you wanna talk about us?

[Tess meets his eyes with a bit more strength than she had expected from herself in this moment, considering what she's facing, but that, at least, feels right. She keeps a hold on his arm, fingers against flannel and hoping that cotton is enough, that even that is alright.

But then again, they'd both handled Ellie without contracting it. Hell, Joel had been with her for a year. Was there really so much to fear?

Even so, she lets go of his arm again.]

I didn't ask to show up again in your life a year after my own death, okay? I'm not here to torture you. I just fucking want to know I meant enough for you to see this through.

That I mattered, that maybe I got past some wall of yours after all these years.

[Tess wishes she didn't care about this kind of reassurance. She's supposed to be stronger than this, but maybe she just likes the idea of herself more than the reality. The one that men fear and obey, not the one that is just as fallible and human as the rest of them.

Was human.]

That's it. I'm fucking sorry, okay?

[He doesn't really believe there's anything to fear from just close contact alone, not after all this time sticking so close to Ellie, but the way she keeps her careful distance makes him feel unreasonably raw. Which is stupid, because he's keeping his own careful distance and her worries are more reasonable. More understandable. What are his worries, exactly?

He's scared of the floodgate of shit he might unleash exactly before he had to compose himself enough to shoot his partner.

And here she's the one with everything to lose, all over again. And here she was begging him to give a little and tune in with her. And here she was asking him questions that were almost impossible to answer, that didn't just have one, straight answer. He'd seen it through and he hadn't. She didn't know. But she should damn well know that she mattered a lot.]

Of course you fucking matter. [And it's enough to trigger Joel into being himself, the pain and uncertainty, the blatant apology. Nothing to apologize for, damn it. He decides to close whatever distance lingers between them and presses his hand to the side of her face, a stupid term of endearment tumbling out of his mouth:] Sweetheart, you are one of the very few things that has mattered in twenty years.

[And his voice is small and the words are a little rough, but they are genuine. He can't stand her questioning that and going to her death not knowing.]

Don't you fucking act like you don't know that.

Edited 2013-08-30 03:49 (UTC)

[Tess flinches when he touches her, but it's just as easy to melt into as it always is. God, it's been less than twenty-four hours since he last held her face, and even if the whole damn world is different now, there's the same old concern. She drops her eyes for a moment, then looks back up at him, her hands rising to wrap around his wrist.

Her own voice feels small.]

You know how us girls need to feel appreciated.

[It isn't even that, she thinks, but it sounds better. It sounds worlds better than flinging all the other reasons in his face: every time he brushed her off, every time he locked her out and then got mad when she didn't go chasing after him, every time he took out his hurt and anger on her. Of course she matters –– she knows Joel would never suffer people he loathed.

But there isn't time for the full story, and now there never will be. Not ever.

She leans her cheek into his hand and sighs, closing her eyes.]

You're always telling me how reckless I am.

That's because you goddamn are.

[And he knows there's more to it than that, but after a second she relaxes into his touch and Joel feels comfortable dealing out a very weak scolding. Reckless is one of his top ten descriptors for Tess. Used to be, because she was dead and she was gone. It feels like he's talking to a ghost, this all happened so fast. He figures he might as well be talking to a ghost with the way this was gonna play out.

And of course she'd want some closure about her deathwish. Who wouldn't? Sorry, Tess, we're still shitty people.

He doesn't even know how to start. Joel heaves another sigh when she does and pulls her into a cautious hug. She's so worried about it traveling, but he doesn't see any sign that she's anywhere close to turning. And they don't do this that often, but it's not every day the dead come back after you've regretted every single time you didn't.]

If you'd listened to me more often, we mighta been on vacation while this all went down.

[When he pulls her in, she turns just a bit –– just to keep that shoulder the fuck away from him, like any contact with it is a death sentence. Of course, all of her will be poisoned soon enough, but for now, it's just that ugly patch of flesh, oozing between growing bubbles and ridges.

His shirt smells nice. Musky, dirty, sweaty nice. This is all she has left.]

Where would we even go on vacation? Boston hasn't had nice seafood restaurants on the harbour and a Red Sox game in ages.

[But who was she kidding? She'd never even stepped foot in Boston before those things had come crashing down. It just sounds like a nice impossibility, just like vacation.]

[Can't believe she's real. Holding her in his arms feels no different from any other time he's done it, except for the careful way they're avoiding direct contact with the infected bite. He remembers his utter disbelief when he'd first learned she was hiding it, demanding to see it the way he'd done, and then everything happening much too fast.

I can fight.

The small laugh that escapes from his mouth when she speaks is hollow, kind of shaky. He used to argue with Tess all the time about taking it easy. He'd get brushed off, just about every single time. Nice impossibilities. Joel had been old enough when the outbreak began that he could remember things like vacation from too much work in a normal context; Tess was younger, her edges a little sharper from spending her young adult life in complete chaos.

Joel holds her a little tighter.]

Yeah, vacation for us would just be taking a break, wouldn't it? Something else you never wanted to do.

[She sighs, and then laughs under his breath, cheek against his chest. She doesn't need to explain this, but...]

Taking a break would have let someone else step in to try to corner our market. That's how Roberts happen. You really wanna risk losing everything we worked so hard to build? I didn't bust my ass for decades just to sit on my ass for a week. You know that.

[Want to? Wanted to? Tess isn't sure, but if she's dead and her body hauled off to an incinerator somewhere, and Joel trekking across the country with Ellie, well... Boston didn't have a Tess anymore, or it had a new Tess. Maybe Bill was wondering why no one ever came back for new merchandise –– an absence without answers, and he would eventually go, too, leaving Boston with an extremely diminished black market of pills, booze, guns and explosives.

And the saddest thing was that most people would never even realize who went missing, even if they felt the absence of contraband sorely.

It was mere hours ago for Tess, and yet it still felt like distant past. She was reeling.]

You gonna go back to Boston?

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