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WHO| Joel and YOU!
WHAT| Joel gets paid a visit by his long-dead daughter in weird zombie form. Things will only go downhill from here.
WHEN| Week 4/whenever the zombiefied loved ones show up
WHERE| Probably various places around town.
WARNINGS| Trauma conga line.

For Ellie;

It's good to regain some sense of normalcy, wherever he can. Going on a supply run with Ellie does that - they work like a well-oiled machine, after all their time together, and it's almost comforting, by now. Despite the fact that they can't find Clementine anywhere the past few days. Like she disappeared into the mist. Her death hasn't been announced yet, so Joel is trying to hold out hope, but...

But there are still things to do - food to find, supplies to gather, shelter to scout for. They're both still alive and that's the important thing. "Hey, you don't suppose we could find -"

His thought is cut off by the appearance of a shadow through the mist. Joel readies his wrench, the nearest weapon to hand, automatically, and backs toward Ellie, prepared to protect her, or fight back-to-back, whatever is necessary.

It's only as the small figure gets closer, emerging from the fog, that the wrench falls from his hand, fingers gone nerveless with shock. Joel can feel all the blood draining from his face, like he's seeing a ghost. Because he is.

He can't say it, but it hangs in the air like a lead balloon. Sarah?

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He takes her by the hand, leading her around carefully as they look for food and shelter. There's something broken in his eyes, and once in a while he even picks up the twelve-year-old blonde girl and carries her in his arms if she's moving a little too slow. She doesn't look much like him, except a bit around her ears, her jaw. But there's no doubt - Joel thinks he's found his daughter.

In an old house, he starts a fire, and now he's trying to get her to eat something.

"C'mon, babygirl, you have to eat," he murmurs quietly, even as she remains completely unresponsive.

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Ellie's been quiet. Something about this place has set her right back to the Winter - right back to the state of mind she was in just before she was brought to Panem. She keeps Joel's back, and she does what she needs to and when, but she's been more somber the last few days that usual - keeping her thoughts to herself.

She never says anything after the names are called out every night. She just listens to them, silently, waiting for more of her friends to fall.

She halts when Joel's arm goes out - immediately grabbing for her knife, held fast in her fist.

"What is i--" She cuts off when the girl steps out of the fog. She frowns. It isn't someone she recognizes, and she thought she knew all the kid tributes.

"Hey--" She calls out, a stage whisper. "You have to be careful or someone's going to get jumpy and just stab you."

He's practically tuned Ellie out - right now, the world has shrunk down to just him and the silent, wraith-like blonde girl. He takes a numb, stumbling step forward, reaching for her as though he's not sure he should even touch her. As though if he touches her, she might disappear. But he can't not touch her, either. Not after so long.

"Sarah," he finally says, his voice rough as sandpaper with emotion he could never name.

Her attention snaps to him as soon as the name is off his lips. The skin on the back of her neck crawls, the hair standing up. Sarah. She knows that name.

"Joel--" She says, reaching out to grab his shirt, her other hand still gripping her knife tightly. Sure, she'd watched the dead come back - she'd seen Tess, touched and kissed Riley - but something about this one--

She might as well be invisible for all the attention Joel is paying her right now. If she tries to tug on his shirt, he will simply extract himself gently from her grip. He's far too intent on the girl.

He drops to his knees in front of her, gathering her up in his arms, rocking her back and forth.

"Oh baby," he murmurs, as much to himself as to her, "I'm here. Daddy's gotcha, babygirl."

She lets his shirt fall from her fingers, grasping at the air before she lets her hand fall to the side. Babygirl, he says, and her chest draws a little tighter, but she doesn't say anything.

I sure as hell ain't your dad.

"... That's... Is that really her?" She asks, quietly, fully aware that Joel is completely ignoring her. She tries to meet the girl's eyes, but the blank stare she receives in return...

"... Look, Joel, I-- I'm really happy for you, but something is wrong--"

Joel is oblivious. He rocks the girl back and forth, back and forth, unable to hear Ellie, unable to even notice that the girl in his arms is basically unresponsive, that she's not answering him, that she's not even looking at him.

All Joel can see right now is Sarah. His Sarah, his daughter, some figment or memory of her that he's built up in his head and now seems to have appeared before him in some kind of physical form.

It's going to take more than a few words to snap him out of this.

"Joel." No answer. She takes a step forward. "Joel," She says, louder now, getting desperate. She takes another step forward, grabbing him roughly by the shoulder.

"JOEL," She says, nearly right in his ear, "Stop for a second, she's--"

He freezes at Ellie's voice, and turns to look at her after a moment - still clinging to the girl in his arms like she's a lifeline.

"It's Sarah," he whispers hoarsely. "She - They -" He blinks at Ellie, like he's not even sure what to do now. Like he's lost.

"Joel..." Her face contorts, looking deeply concerned. "... Joel, she isn't talking. Or... looking. Or doing anything. Look at her..."

She shifted awkwardly, grip tight on her knife.

"She isn't in there."

"No. No."

It's Sarah. It's here. She's here, and he's going to protect her. That's just the way it is. Carefully, ever so carefully, he stands, lifting her up in his arms, oblivious to the lingering pain from his ribs.

"C'mon, we gotta get somewhere - safer. I gotta -" He needs. He needs her to be here. This can't be fake.

She's one of those things, she wants to say, but the words don't leave her lips. She wondered what would happen if Riley appeared to her, sighless and grey, and doesn't want to think about it.

"Alright," She said, quietly, not agreeing at all, but she couldn't argue with getting somewhere safe. "Alright. Come on," she says, keeping a wary eye on the girl in his arms as he led him back toward shelter.

For the time being, Sarah - or the creature masquerading as Sarah - isn't posing a threat, at least, simply allowing herself to be carried by a rather distraught Joel as he makes his way back to their current safehouse - it was just the two of them, after losing Riley and then Clem.

Now, though, there's a third again. As far as Joel is concerned, anyway.

He doesn't know what's happening, just that his daughter suddenly appeared from nowhere and he can't let go of her. He can't lose her again.

"What've we got for food?" he asks Ellie as he sets her down gently in the house.

"Not fucking much," She says, closing the door behind them as she watches Joel and 'Sarah' warily. She hasn't let go of her knife yet, and she doesn't plan to.

"Why, you think trying to feed her is going to get her to liven up? Joel, I'm sorry, but I really don't think it's a good idea--"

"She needs to eat," he says firmly, cutting Ellie off. "She needs - she needs me."

Whatever they did to her, it's definitely her, as far as Joel is concerned. Maybe he can help her, somehow. He's her father, after all. It's his job - to take care of her.

A stab of something quite like jealousy streaks through her and her lips thin. It isn't human, she decides there and then. It's one of those walkers, dressed up just like Joel's daughter, and he cares more about that husk of a think than he cared about her.

She wants to snap him out of it, wants to yell at him, wants to shake the husk and show him the lifeless eyes and the fifty mile stare. Even R was more alive than this, she wants to yell at him, but thinking about R hurts as much as thinking about anything else so she thins her lips and says nothing. The defiance is only in her eyes.

"Fine. I'll find something." She says, the words tight, as she turns to go scrounge through their meager supplies.

"Thank you," he murmurs, but otherwise ignores her. Sarah. There's clearly something wrong with her, but it's definitely her, and Joel leans forward, cupping her face in his hands.

"Baby? It's me, it's Pops, talk to me, honey."

She hates it, she decides. Whatever it is, whoever it once was, it most certainly wasn't Joel's baby. Certainly wasn't his honey. The jealousy churned in her gut alongside the disgust, and the worry, and the heartache. She scrounged through their meagre supplies but there was little left. A couple cans of things, that no longer told her what was on them. She gripped one, glaring down at it, sighed, and turned back.

"Here." She said, shoving it toward him as she re-entered the room.

He takes the can of food, cracks it open without even glancing at it to see if there's a label of some kind. It's fruit cocktail, looks like, and he looks at Sarah with an almost-pleading expression on his face.

"You hungry? You should eat."

Nothing. She might as well be a rag doll. What have they done to her?

"Ellie? Help me out, here," he says, desperately.

"Joel, I can't help you here. She isn't going to eat, okay? She isn't-" She cut off, biting her lip, looking away angrily.

Joel wasn't listening to her, so what the fuck was she supposed to do?

"Just don't fucking waste the food, okay? If she's not eating, then you eat it."

"They did something to her," Joel says, frustrated. "We gotta figure out how to fix it."

Ultimately, it comes down to this: right now, Bucky Barnes has nothing better to do than kill people.

But he'll settle for that. Right now, with more and more of these strange voiceless people, these strange false people, turning up, always leaving those they go to a little bit broken because of it--the Arena needs a trained killer. That's what he tells himself, to take his mind off what he did to the silent man wearing the face of the Steve Rogers he knows from home.

Silent himself now, he zeroes in on Joel as he catches sight of the other man carrying the pale and silent thing that he obviously thinks is his child into one of the old houses. He'll do this guy a favor, out of the goodness of his heart. (He doesn't really think he has much goodness there at the moment, but at least he can put the badness to use, right?)

A few minutes later, as Joel is trying to feed the girl, there's a conspicuous sharp crack from the shadows nearby. Is that a footstep?

His diversion made, Bucky makes his way stealthily around to the shadows on the other side of the fire and waits for Joel to take off to investigate the noise.

Unfortunately, Joel has far better instincts than to leave a child unattended while he goes to investigate every stray sound. He glances around, though, suddenly on high alert. It could be a monster, though they're still pretty lethargic and not dangerous for the most part. Or it could be another tribute.

Ellie would make herself known, not sneak around.

"Who's there?" he calls, frowning into the empty house. He tucks Sarah (or the thing masquerading as Sarah) up against his left side, while his right hand goes for the wrench he's been using as a weapon.

So much for his first plan, Bucky reflects. He rethinks, recalculates. He can do that here, even if he's tired and hungry.

After a few moments, he emerges from the shadows in the direction the noise came from, gloved hands held up in a gesture of peace. "You found my hiding spot," he explains. "But I don't want to hurt anybody."

But is that dried blood on his jacket and pants?

Joel is used to the sight of blood - everyone gets bloody sooner or later. It could mean a lot of things, but regardless, he doesn't let his guard down as the stranger approaches.

"We were here first," he says firmly. "You don't want to hurt anybody, walk away and find yourself a new spot."

Bucky takes another step forward--but just one. Then he hesitates, weariness battling it out with guarded concern on his face. "You sure we can't reach some kind of agreement, man? I've still got a few supplies, some food. Your little girl looks like she needs--"

He doesn't finish that sentence. He lets it go on only long enough to--he hopes--plant the seed of a thought in the other man's head, that maybe he's a necessary ally. He's hoping that will leave him off-guard for a split second during what comes next. After all, this guy would have to be truly exceptionally paranoid not to let down his guard a little bit at that offer. Right?

Without giving away any clues in his expression beforehand, Bucky suddenly lunges--not at Joel himself, but at the girl at his side. He's aiming an immediate killing blow at her throat, and he knows what he's doing.

Too bad for Bucky Joel is, indeed, exceptionally paranoid. He comes from a world, after all, that in many ways is much, much worse than this. Much worse even than Bucky's own world. He knows all the tricks - he's used many of them himself, in fact, and he learned long ago not to trust anyone as far as he can throw them.

There is literally nothing this guy could do or say, even if he spent hours with them, that would make Joel drop his guard for even an instant. And if anything, he's on even more high alert with Sarah here - or at least, something that he has convinced himself is Sarah.

When the guy makes his move, Joel reacts immediately, instinctively, swiping out with the wrench, his body shifting to block the girl, aiming awkwardly for Bucky's head.

"Don't you touch her," he snarls, almost like, well. Like a bear protecting its young. All teeth and claws and growling voice.

Bucky realizes immediately that he's made a mistake.

Truth be told, if he were less weary, less sunken in his own guilt and despair, he probably would have known better than to make that mistake in the first place. He might well have read in Joel's stance and eyes that constant vigilance, if he had been thinking straight. Of course, he wasn't. That's why he's doing something as stupid as going around trying to kill doppelgangers of people's loved ones in the first place.

He easily ducks the blow to his head--Bucky's own considerable skills aside, Joel is somewhat hampered on the offense by his need to play defense for Sarah. For the moment, Bucky jumps back, hands going up again, this time in an imploring gesture. "Come on. You gotta know it ain't her. These things are dangerous, and I'm trying to do you a favor."

He has a vague feeling that this logic will be unappreciated, but the distressing need he feels in his gut to dig himself deeper and deeper into this hole urges him to try anyway.

You gotta know it ain't her. What does he know? What does this psycho asshole know, someone willing to try and kill a defenseless child?

Joel practically snarls, standing up, putting himself between Sarah and this guy, ready to swing out with the wrench again.

"You touch a hair on my daughter's head, you sonofabitch, and I will rip you limb from limb, you got me?" Conviction drips from every word - it's not an empty threat, it's a promise.

Bucky may have formal training, may be a super soldier. It may not be a fight Joel could win, but that won't stop him. And Joel has twenty years of surviving under his belt, surviving a world that is every bit as harsh as this arena has been, and he has done a lot of terrible things. On top of all that, he's a father protecting his child. He'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe.

Something lights up a little in Bucky at the savage dedication Joel shows. This would be a fight that could really wind him; this battle would leave him too exhausted and shot through with adrenaline to feel all that distress. He could lose himself in violence here, vent all his anger and guilt.

For a moment, his mouth draws back into a snarl, and he looks like he's seriously considering it. "She's not your daughter," he begins.

But he can't help but catch Joel's eyes as he speaks, and it hits him powerfully: this is a man who thinks he's defending a helpless loved one. Where would be the reward in fighting someone like that?

And he slumps, the fight going out of his stance. "But I can't convince you of that."

"Like hell she ain't," Joel growls angrily. Yeah, it's really obvious nothing Bucky says will convince him the creature he's trying to protect isn't his kid.

"No matter how long it's been, no matter what they do to her, that's my baby girl, and you're gonna have to go through me." They took her away once, that soldier with his gun and his orders, the fucking military, and whatever the Capitol has done to her head, he's going to fix it. Or make them fix it, whichever, because Joel knows they can. They can bring people back from he dead, they can do anything.

He'll make them.

"You're going to regret this," Bucky says, his voice tense. He takes a step--but it's another step back, closer to a cracked window he can use to leave. "Those things aren't even human, they're ticking time bombs sent to torture us. And if I'm wrong--"

His voices catches for a second, and then he continues. "You think your little girl would want to be a helpless pawn of those Gamemaker pieces of shit?"

He knows immediately that's not something he should have said, and he takes another quick step back towards that window.

How dare he. How dare he come here, and tell Joel what his daughter should or shouldn't be feeling. How dare this asshole show up and try to attack an innocent child. Just like that goddamn soldier. Just like that man with the gun, the one who fired on them, the one who -

Joel grips the handle of his wrench, nearly howling with rage, and lunges toward the other man, fully intent on murder.

It occurs to Bucky, in the corner of his mind that's still being strategic, that he could take this chance. He could duck around the furious man now coming at him, put his superior training to work, and kill the thing masquerading as this guy's daughter.

But at this point, that would take a malice that isn't in him. As stupid and misguided as his quest to kill the false people is--he hatched it out of stupid and misguided compassion. So for now, instead of fighting to kill, he simply fights to survive.

As Joel comes at him, he quickly lifts his left arm so that the wrench clangs off it, pushes roughly forward to try to shove the other man back, and swiftly sidesteps backwards, kicks out the rest of the window, and turns to flee.

There is literally only one thing on Joel's mind right now - keep this man away from his daughter. There's a weird clainging sound as the wrench hits - metal? - and then Joel gets shoved back, stumbling a little but refusing to lose his balance completely, in case the guy tries to use the opening to go for Sarah.

He can't let him get Sarah. He can't let anyone hurt her. Not again, not ever again.

"Get out," he snarls as the man turns to flee. He's not inclined to go chasing after him, not with Sarah here, so vulnerable. "Don't ever let me see your face again, y'hear me!"

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