He scoffs. More of a laugh, though the corner of his mouth stays curled up for a second at best. Given the past twenty years, state capitols aren't really relevant anymore.
"Yeah alright. Pretty sure we can skip the history lessons," it's not a particularly humid night (and by now his heartbeat's slowing down to a normal, steady pace) but sweat's still pooling up in the hollow of his collarbone and along the edges of his scalp and beard, so Joel pauses long enough to mop at himself with his palm. Flat of his hand flicking off whatever traces of sweat it can catch. "But that ain't a free ride out of school altogether, Ellie."
"I read," she says defensively, stroking what she can reach of Bubbles's neck. "And math's not that hard - what else is there?" Really. What does he want her to do? Friggin' P.E. or art class or something? Like there's plenty she could do, but so much of it's a fucking waste of time. "Like if you can give me one good reason to go, fine. But so far all I've heard is 'you'll use it' when that kind of seems like bullshit. I could be out there helping you guys watch the perimeter or something."
That gets a grin out of him. Unintentional and slight, but he covers it with the back of his hand in a casual motion. He'd intended to suggest she run the perimeter with him instead; the fact that they've both got the same idea makes him more than a little proud.
She's ready to argue more - rarin' to do it honestly. That sort of thing seems to be a by-product of talking to adults, of being fifteen and frustrated and running in circles. Instead he says 'Okay,' like he means it and Ellie straightens slightly. She throws him an openly surprised look.
"Still gotta do the rest," because she's still just a kid, because maybe he never went to college and didn't really get why it was all that necessary, but he sure as hell expected Sarah to. "but when you're done with it, we can go work the fence and get you some hands-on training."
He wipes off a few more lines of sweat before letting his hand drop back down to his hip. "Figure it might be a more practical education anyway."
Well that's the opposite of what she wanted. "Hold on, hold up." She throws up a hand and frowns. "How is that fair? That's just like-- school and work? What d'you think I am, a friggin' machine?"
So maybe with a little wheedling she can find some kind of comfortable middle ground. She hooks her arm over Bubble's lowered neck and tips her chin up. "How about this: no more shitty phys ed. And no more history. That evens out."
"You don't like sports?" Christ, he taught the girl everything there is to know about football and she doesn't even like tossing the damn thing around. He'd at least expected her to be into the rough-housing aspect of it all.
"Face it, I can pretty much kick the asses of all those other kids. You'd be doing them a favor." No that's a lie - she's actually phenomenally shitty at kicking things. But throwing balls and stuff, hitting things out of the air? She's pretty good at that part.
He doesn't like the idea of it. Not that he doesn't want her out there with him, not that he gets along with most of the others that walk the wall enough to have an assorted range of conversations without Ellie around that don't consist mostly of him absently saying 'yep' and shuffling along. It's just-- kids should be kids, you know.
He vaguely remembers Henry muttering something along those lines at some point.
She makes a noise low in the back of her throat, loosing her arm from around the docile horse's neck. "Seriously, Joel? C'mon, you know I'm right. I'd be ten times more help out there on the fence with you guys than I would be back here--"
"Yeah but it ain't about that." He snaps back harder than he means to. A verbal way of putting his foot down about the way this conversation's headed. No anger, no frustration just--
"Baby girl you can do a hell of a lot better than any one of those people out on patrol right now but that don't mean you should." Joel thins his lips, fumbling for the right way to explain it. "When was the last time you actually fooled around with the other kids?"
The line of her eyes slides away from him, rooting itself in the corner of the stable, as he snaps back at her. Her mouth goes all lopsided and then thin when he calls her that.
And then she bites back (and part of her thinks maybe that's what this was about. What she'd been gunning for all along: get him to go all hard nosed so she has a reason to want to punch him for it). So, yeah. She can be defensive too alright because-- "Jesus, do you even listen? I just told you." She's suddenly angry. Angry because she sounds more pitched than she wants to be and that just makes it worse and-- "I don't want to play baseball or tell Chris Dowd to stop trying to fucking hold my hand for the seventeenth time when I could actually be doing something that matters."
Because it's all bullshit and she knows that, but at least if she's running the perimeter then-- people die all the time. That's just how it goes and she's aware of that. But having friends makes it harder or different and makes her feel more useless than she already does. She'd rather be good for something even if it's just scoping out some fuckers trying to stir shit than be good for nothing with a great soccer game.
"How long d'you think this is gonna last, huh?" That sharpness in her tone carries over to him, drops his voice down low as he leans in over his forward-most foot. Talking about what matters-- about places like this that are damn near extinct by now-- pushes him well beyond the limits of his patience. And she knows that. "How much longer do you think am I gonna last, Ellie, because I tell you what I have not got another twenty years in me for this shit."
It's the selfish thing to say when he's been standing here in the dark with her, sweat on his forehead and breath short from old hurts (she isn't stupid and she isn't blind). But she say it anyway because she knows it'll sting. Because maybe it's true - even saying it she doesn't know for sure. But what else is there? It's just this, day in and day out and she used to be okay with that but now she doesn't know if she's ever going the be okay with it.
There's a tangle of scar tissue on her forearm that someone told her meant something, but just look how that turned out.
He's silent after that for a while. Brow furrowed, lips flat, chin still angled down so he can stare straight at her, inhaling and exhaling every breath through his nose because he's not entirely sure what'll come out of his mouth when he opens it.
"That ain't your call to make." Joel finally mouths out with his jaw still locked tight.
The long moment of silence should scare her, but it just makes her more aware of how angry she is: the low dull noise of it pounding in her chest and ears. It's quiet in the barn and she can hear how his breathing rattles, the shift of the horses.
"Yeah?" Which is deceptively soft and quiet, though there's a steel under it all that goes flat and straightforward with the next question: "Then who's is it - yours?"
"Don't." He shakes his head, holds a hand up to set distance between them. "Don't even start with me again, because this is the first goddamn time you've had a chance to do something on your own and you haven't even bothered to try, so do not tell me you're done with it now."
That was the whole point, wasn't it? Get her away from those bastards long enough to make her own choices, give her a real shot at life. Now she wants nothing to do with it - what kind of sense does that even begin to make?
No need to put any more distance between them. It already feels like they're on different fucking planets. "Bullshit!" She says it louder than she means to. She's not sorry - mostly not. "I just told you what I wanted, but you don't even care because it's not what you want. So don't tell me that you did this for me when you're all set to stop me the second I try to do something on my own."
Fuck she doesn't even know what this is about anymore, just that the words are coming out of her mouth and she wants to run but her feet are stuck to the goddamn floor and it doesn't matter even if she could because there's no where to go anyway.
That staggers him. Not entirely, not enough to shake him from anger, but enough to press Joel into stepping back-- pacing in a half circle with his knuckles wedged up under his nose. He dragged her back and forth across the map, fought till his fingers were bloody and was the only one that gave a damn enough to keep them from cutting her to pieces and he's the selfish one? Shit if that ain't the worst joke he's ever heard.
Joel scoffs, cracks something that vaguely resembles a grin; wrong right down to the last angle. "It's a tough deal, Ellie -that's the world we live in and there is no changing that whether you like it or not."
"You think I don't know that?" Because if there's one thing she knows it's the fucking reality of the situation, okay? But he's asking her to pretend that's not what is is - to pretend that it's okay when it's not. And that isn't fair. He sure as shit doesn't bother deluding himself ninety percent of the time, so why the hell should she?
"Jesus Joel, it's just some stupid class. It's not a big deal."
"Not now," his attention snaps back over towards her. Still and straight and sounding deceptively objective about the whole thing. "But when I can't be around to have your back anymore what then, huh?"
He needs this. He needs to know she'll be okay. It's not enough to trust she can survive out in the wild anymore.
"I have done damn near everything there is to do in this world, but you are not me - you are fifteen years old and I do not want to see you throw it away. Not like this."
God, she can't-- she presses the heels of her hands to her eyes and paces a short half circle. She can't fucking argue with this. Not when he's so dead set on cutting everything she tries to tell him down at the knees.
"Well you know what." Ellie rounds on him, dropping her hands. "I guess it's a good thing I don't need your permission then, huh?"
Exasperated, Joel angles his head in again, raises his hands where she moves to drop her own. "Why can't you just--" one short cut-off, one attempt to even out so they're not just butting heads. "It's a compromise, Ellie, I ain't asking the world here. Meet me halfway."
"No, you meet me halfway! We both agree that history is stupid and walking the perimeter is practically the same shit as p.e. It's not like I'm never gonna be around kids my age if I skip out on two stupid classes. I don't see what the big deal is."
Which isn't what this is about and she's pretty friggin' sure they both know that, but that doesn't mean she can't pretend otherwise. Because she may not be able to win anything else, but she can at least get this.
"It is not the same!" There's a difference between playing and fighting and he hasn't seen her so much as inch towards the latter since Utah. He hasn't got a clue why she's up in arms, but for him, after months spent walking to the sound of bad jokes and incessant bouts of eager, unintentionally invasive questions, it's all that matters.
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"Yeah alright. Pretty sure we can skip the history lessons," it's not a particularly humid night (and by now his heartbeat's slowing down to a normal, steady pace) but sweat's still pooling up in the hollow of his collarbone and along the edges of his scalp and beard, so Joel pauses long enough to mop at himself with his palm. Flat of his hand flicking off whatever traces of sweat it can catch. "But that ain't a free ride out of school altogether, Ellie."
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"Okay."
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"What, seriously?"
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He wipes off a few more lines of sweat before letting his hand drop back down to his hip. "Figure it might be a more practical education anyway."
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So maybe with a little wheedling she can find some kind of comfortable middle ground. She hooks her arm over Bubble's lowered neck and tips her chin up. "How about this: no more shitty phys ed. And no more history. That evens out."
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But that's not the point.
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He doesn't like the idea of it. Not that he doesn't want her out there with him, not that he gets along with most of the others that walk the wall enough to have an assorted range of conversations without Ellie around that don't consist mostly of him absently saying 'yep' and shuffling along. It's just-- kids should be kids, you know.
He vaguely remembers Henry muttering something along those lines at some point.
"I don't know, Ellie--"
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"Baby girl you can do a hell of a lot better than any one of those people out on patrol right now but that don't mean you should." Joel thins his lips, fumbling for the right way to explain it. "When was the last time you actually fooled around with the other kids?"
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And then she bites back (and part of her thinks maybe that's what this was about. What she'd been gunning for all along: get him to go all hard nosed so she has a reason to want to punch him for it). So, yeah. She can be defensive too alright because-- "Jesus, do you even listen? I just told you." She's suddenly angry. Angry because she sounds more pitched than she wants to be and that just makes it worse and-- "I don't want to play baseball or tell Chris Dowd to stop trying to fucking hold my hand for the seventeenth time when I could actually be doing something that matters."
Because it's all bullshit and she knows that, but at least if she's running the perimeter then-- people die all the time. That's just how it goes and she's aware of that. But having friends makes it harder or different and makes her feel more useless than she already does. She'd rather be good for something even if it's just scoping out some fuckers trying to stir shit than be good for nothing with a great soccer game.
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It's the selfish thing to say when he's been standing here in the dark with her, sweat on his forehead and breath short from old hurts (she isn't stupid and she isn't blind). But she say it anyway because she knows it'll sting. Because maybe it's true - even saying it she doesn't know for sure. But what else is there? It's just this, day in and day out and she used to be okay with that but now she doesn't know if she's ever going the be okay with it.
There's a tangle of scar tissue on her forearm that someone told her meant something, but just look how that turned out.
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"That ain't your call to make." Joel finally mouths out with his jaw still locked tight.
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"Yeah?" Which is deceptively soft and quiet, though there's a steel under it all that goes flat and straightforward with the next question: "Then who's is it - yours?"
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That was the whole point, wasn't it? Get her away from those bastards long enough to make her own choices, give her a real shot at life. Now she wants nothing to do with it - what kind of sense does that even begin to make?
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Fuck she doesn't even know what this is about anymore, just that the words are coming out of her mouth and she wants to run but her feet are stuck to the goddamn floor and it doesn't matter even if she could because there's no where to go anyway.
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Joel scoffs, cracks something that vaguely resembles a grin; wrong right down to the last angle. "It's a tough deal, Ellie -that's the world we live in and there is no changing that whether you like it or not."
So don't fucking pin this on him.
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"Jesus Joel, it's just some stupid class. It's not a big deal."
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He needs this. He needs to know she'll be okay. It's not enough to trust she can survive out in the wild anymore.
"I have done damn near everything there is to do in this world, but you are not me - you are fifteen years old and I do not want to see you throw it away. Not like this."
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"Well you know what." Ellie rounds on him, dropping her hands. "I guess it's a good thing I don't need your permission then, huh?"
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Exasperated, Joel angles his head in again, raises his hands where she moves to drop her own. "Why can't you just--" one short cut-off, one attempt to even out so they're not just butting heads. "It's a compromise, Ellie, I ain't asking the world here. Meet me halfway."
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Which isn't what this is about and she's pretty friggin' sure they both know that, but that doesn't mean she can't pretend otherwise. Because she may not be able to win anything else, but she can at least get this.
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Things weren't supposed to turn out like this.
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