vaccination | contact ☣ ❝Am I ever getting boobs or what?❞

Thought you liked ice cream, though.

[He does notice the way Ellie remains leaning against him - and he has to admit to himself, there's a part of him that wants to put his arm back around her and just hold her to him for a while longer. He doesn't, though; he pushes himself to his feet. He lets out a grunt of mild discomfort as he does so, his stomach twinging where he'd been impaled on the rebar all those months ago. He quickly presses a hand against that very spot. Damn it, he's mostly healed but sometimes, at unexpected times, it twinges, like the muscles haven't quite healed properly.]

[She'd about to get up at her own, casual pace, but when Joel makes that sound and holds his side she jumps up onto her feet. It's not surprising that his side would hurt him at times--that wound had been terrible, almost fatal.]

Whoa, what was that? You okay, Joel?

Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, I'm fine.

[He's fine, damn it. He determinedly proves his point but making himself stand tall and dropping his hand away from his side.

See? He's fine. Even if it kinda feels like he's got a bad stitch in his stomach.]

[Joel's pretty good at that mind over body thing, able to force himself to walk out of a university with a hole through his gut, but Ellie doesn't doubt that it hurts. Now, they can afford to take it easy. They don't have to push themselves to walk one more mile, get to somewhere safe. They have warm, soft beds waiting for them.

There's no reason to be uncomfortable.]

We can head back.

No. We're gettin' ice cream.

[He's fine, damn it.]

We can get ice cream another time. Like... tomorrow, when I get off work. At the ice cream shop.

Fine. We'll get a hotdog, then. Or a corndog. Or whatever you want.

Okay, okay. Let's go with... hotdog. [Since he seems so determined to get something out here.] That good?

Works for me.

[He just stubbornly wants to prove he's fine, that he's not weak, that he's not bothered by anything that happened to them during their year of getting to the Fireflies.

Dropping his hand away from his side, he brushes sand off his hands against his jeans.]

Had a hotdog yet?

[Ellie's never seen him as weak. Not even when he was sick with fever did that ever cross her mind. He was strong for holding on, for fighting. She does realize, however, that he's older--despite all her jokes and teasing, he really isn't a spring chicken. He has to be careful. It takes him longer to recover.]

Nope. I can put ketchup on it though, right?

[She fucking loves ketchup.]

[He turns around to look back up the beach. They're going to have to cross over the hot sand again...]

Sure can. Ever had mustard?

Nuh uh. I like ranch dressing. Is it like that?

[Ugh, the sand. Ellie likes the waves, just not the burning sand.]

I'll race you back to the car for our shoes.

No, that's like a, uh, salad dressing, I guess. Mustard is... Well, how 'bout we just find a place that sells hotdogs and you try some. Gettin' a bit old for running races, though.

I'm down for that.

[Old. Yeah, it's true, but Ellie's pretty sure he can outrun most of the younger people here. She nudges him.]

Jogging is good for you.

...Alright. [He sounds reluctant, the way he almost always does when Ellie tries to goad him into having fun.] You ready, then? Ready... set...

[He takes off before he gets to 'go'. Sarah used to hate it when he messed around like that. Or well, not hate it, but would whine about how unfair he was being. 'Daaa-aaaad', she'd usually whine, before picking up the pace, determined to beat him.]

[Joel leaves Ellie standing there, in the wake of his cheating. Wow. She did not expect that, and it takes her a moment to process what just happened.]

--Joel! You're a fucking cheater, get back here!

[There's not an ounce of anger in those words. Ellie laughs and bolts after him, finding it only a little disorientating to be running with Joel while not being chased by tanks, infected, or hunters. He usually made sure she was ahead of him in those cases. Now? She's scrambling at his heels.]

[Goddamn it, the sand is hot. And sticking to his feet from having gotten his feet wet in the water. He throws a glance over his shoulder at her outrage of him having cheated. For once, he's not looking back to check for danger or Infected or to see if he's gotta quickly double-back to grab Ellie and drag her or shove her forward to get to safety. It's just the ocean behind him, lapping lazily at the shore. Just the sun shining. Just a hot summer's day with nothing trying to hunt them down and kill them.

It's the little things like this Joel has achingly missed for twenty years.

He keeps running, eager to get the hell off the hot sand - although, he starts slowing down as he almost nears the car. Maybe he's going to let Ellie win the race.]

[The feeling of sand sticking between her tones isn't particularly nice when she's trying to use her feet. Putting her socks and shoes back on is going to suck balls. Right now, none of that matters, as she's intent on catching up to Joel--which she does.]

Nononono, no slowing down! I see that!

[It just gets her to slow down, too. Maybe if it were anyone else she'd dash ahead, but with Joel, the fun is over here. Not in the winning.]

[Joel doesn't pick speed back up. Fun is only something he can do in bursts. Small, short bursts. And only for Ellie. Not for anyone else.]

Like I said, gettin' too old for runnin' races.

[With a laugh, Ellie gives him a gentle shove in the back before trotting along beside him, not wanting to leave her feet on the sand for too long.]

Jerk.

[So much affection in one word.]

Hey, watch it, you.

[He gives her a nudge with his elbow at her calling him a jerk, glancing down at her with fondness hidden in his expression.]

Or else what?

[She likes this thing they they do now, nudging.]

Or else...

[Or else what? Still keeping his pace brisk to avoid burning his feet on the sand, he digs his hand into his pocket for his car keys.]

I'll think of something.

Spooky.

[Now she'll hurry on ahead, still hopping from foot to foot.]

Man, my feet are caked in sand.

Yeah, they usually got a shower or tap or something to wash off at beaches like these...

[Car keys securely in hand, Joel makes a hurried dash up the sandy incline that reaches the path. The cement is like standing on lava.] Ah! Goddamn it.

[He strides over towards a shaded spot and though the cement is still pretty damn hot here, it's more tolerable. He uses the vantage point to scope out for a shower or tap like he'd said. Not that either of them are strangers by any means to being filthy or covered in grim or dirt, but still.]

Oh. [A point to the left of them. It's just a tap, no shower. The cement is wet and covered in wet sand from other people who have used the tap to wash off at.] Tap there if you wanna give your feet a quick wash.

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