Silently, the two of you crawl through the dense bushes at the edge of the wall and let yourselves slide into a small trench.

Sewage splashed up and covered your boots with mud and a pungent stench. You crunched your noses in disgust and put a hand over your face.

Behind you, Joel moved.

The sheer existence of him made you shiver, both in anger and discomfort. You two hadn't said anything since the conversation about the immune ones.

It bothered you that he had so little insight into your situation and was instead pissed off that he couldn't trade the life of another for Ellie's.

Instead, you actually had a right to hate him, after you had more or less told him how dark the past really was and what tormented your mind every night.

But all he did was worry about Ellie and struggle to find a solution that would not involve death. But he seemed to have forgotten that this was the only reason that kept you going, Abby's death.

An annoyed sigh left his lips as he grabbed the metal bars and shook them to check how much force was needed to break in. Without a word, he squatted down and tried to break the lock, but it would move and only screamed in protest.

Pulling a face, you pulled out your knife and wanted to pass it to him, but hesitated as you noticed it wasn't actually yours.

It was Joel's knife. You still had not returned it.

For a moment, your eyes lingered on the blade. A thought crossed your mind, planting fear in the deepest depths of your heart. After this, you would never see him again. And if you returned this one little piece of him, there would be nothing to remember.

Suddenly, steps sounded in the distance. Alarmed you looked up but calmed down again as they moved farther away and almost faded.

Swallowing hard, you pulled your hand back and let the knife disappear in your inner pocket again. As you squatted down next to him, you could feel the stare of his hazel eyes dig into your flesh. A shiver crawled down your spine. At the same time a strange feeling spread inside your chest.

It hurt that he looked at you like this again. And at the same time you couldn't help but laugh. This was nothing you wouldn't have expected to happen. His attitude only helped you not get attached too much. In the end, you had to thank him. He made many things a lot easier.

"You can't pick a simple lock?", you asked, an eyebrow raised sarcastically.

With a cold expression on his face, Joel shook his head.

You sighed, stretched a hand out and waited.

Confused, he stared at it.

"What am I supposed to do?", he asked and gave you a high five.

You couldn't help but chuckle.

"A knife, idiot.", you teased him. "Or something sharp and thin."

An understanding sound escaped him. It didn't take long and he offered you something, a rusty piece of metal, not useful for anything but enough to get this job done.

You took it, a smirk on your lips and began to pick the lock.

"If anybody tries to shoot me...", you mumbled while your main focus was on your nimble movements. "Try shooting them first. Or... let them land a headshot. Least messy and is quick."

This time it was him who couldn't help but smile. While his hands were holding the riffle tightly wrapped, his eyes jumped through the area.

Plants. Nothing but plants, trees and dirt. The scenery was beautiful, nature as far as the eye was able to see. But it was hard to find beauty in something that had an origin of fear and chaos.

As he tilted his head, his eyes got stuck at your (H/C) hair. He liked the colour, it reminded him of easier times, back when he had been able to talk to people without fearing that someone would stab him. At the thought, his hand rose to his pocket to feel for your knife.

He had it still and somehow did not want to return it. The thought of having something that belonged to you gave him a sense of comfort.

"(Y/N)...", he whispered and reached out to let his fingers run through your hair.

Struck by surprise, you flinched.

"What is it?", you asked, a little annoyed that he had ruined your progress. "Great, Joel, now I have to start again. And I don't know how long those bastards will be gone."

His gaze jumped into the tunnel, trying to figure something out in the distant dark. But he shook his head.

"Seems fine.", he mumbled and looked at you again. "I'm sorry."

You shrugged, already working on the lock again.

"Not a big deal. Give me five minutes."

"No. That's not what I apologised for."

Surprised, your eyebrows rose.

"Huh?", you threw a quick glance over to him. "You want to apologise for your shitty attitude?"

He nodded, actually surprising you.

"I... I didn't want to disrespect you. The fact that you told me all this... the misery. I can't imagine how that was. I'm sorry, I was reckless and a dick."

Hesitating, you let your fingers dance over the lock.

"You're the first person to ever apologise to me.", you whispered, getting hit by the realisation that this stranger was the first decent human you had ever met. "I appreciate that."

"Don't. It's simple decency. You put so much trust in me. And I want you to know that I put equally as much trust into you as you do in me. I...", he hesitated to say it out loud, feared it might push you away from him. "I feel like it would be nice to have you around for longer. We got plenty of space in Jackson. You don't have to answer now. Take your time. But you should know that there is a place that would welcome you."

You did not answer.

You would never answer.