A/N: Well, it's been an incredible ride, but with this, chapter 20, my longest yet, Aftermath: Part II draws to a close. I have enjoyed the challenges of writing this fic, and imagining the lives of Joel and Ellie after the events of the game has been highly entertaining to me, and I hope to you as well. I'm sure my interpretation, particularly in this chapter, will probably draw some criticism, but that's fine. This is my take on it. If you disagree, that's awesome! That's what's so great about this game, there are so many different ways to interpret the events of the ending and the fallout that stems from it. I think a lot of people will challenge me on the choices made here, but I stand by them.

Thanks to everyone who has favorited, followed, reviewed, or just plain read this fan fiction. So many of your words of praise are far too kind, but I'm grateful for them nonetheless.

I'll take this moment to, if I haven't already, declare that Aftermath: Part III is official and happening. It kind of has to with the ending to Part II (you'll see what I mean.) I think Part III is going to probably be the darkest of the three, and is really going to delve into some of the mental strains that have been wearing away at our main characters. Those strains WILL take their toll.

I've had a few of you ask me for more information about the novel that's in progress. I wish I had more information to give right now, but there's a lot I want to keep under wraps until it gets closer to release. I don't have a title yet, but when I do, I'll inform you all so you can look for it. If I don't come up with a title by the end of Part III, I'll give you guys a link to a blog or something related to the novel so you can keep track of it there. I'm touched by the interest and I'm glad you've taken such a liking to my writing that you'd like to see some original content. I plan on seeing if I can get any publisher interest and if not just publishing it as an eBook through Amazon. Pretty excited!

Anyways, I won't ramble on any longer, I know you're all rarin' to get on with the reading, so I present to you the final chapter of Aftermath: Part II. And thank you!

P.S.: Emotion-inducing soundtrack choice for this chapter: put "All Gone (No Escape)" from the soundtrack on repeat. You will cry.

EDIT: As the observant/creepers among you might have noticed, I added a link to a writing blog I've started to my profile on here. It's on Wordpress and it's my username . wordpress . com

DISCLAIMER/LEGAL MUMBO-JUMBO: I do not own The Last of Us, it is Naughty Dog's property

CHAPTER 20

ALONE

Joel flinched as the blood hit his face, forcing him to instinctually shut his eyes. He heard a soft thud behind the ringing in his ears, feeling the reverberations through the floorboards as her body hit the ground for the last time. He doggedly clenched his eyelids together until he saw flashing, spinning shapes streaking across his vision.

"No… no, no, no…" he wept. "Please God, no… no…"

He refused to open his eyes, opting to continue his existence in the void of darkness. But the last image that burned behind his eyelids was the hopeless look on her face in the split-second moment just before the light of life in her eyes was extinguished. He was left with the choice between the scarring after-image, or opening his eyes to face reality and see the aftermath in all of its dolorous glory.

She was gone. In that fraction of a second, she was gone. It seemed like only minutes ago she was in his arms in front of the fire, warm and smiling and whole. He could still feel her gentle pulse beneath his fingertips. He cautiously opened his eyes. A moonbeam was cast through the window, its shape dancing and contorting as the wind ruffled the trees. It momentarily illuminated her face. Her piercing blue eyes had seemingly lost some of their brilliance. They were lifeless. There was nothing behind them. She was hollow.

A black pool was spreading, forming a dark halo in the moonlight. The sight brought on a fresh round of agonizing grief that racked Joel's body. He blinked feverishly, hoping against hope that it was all some sick dream and that one of these times his eyes would open and she would be alive, but the vision of her crumpled body lying unceremoniously in a spreading pool of blood would not recede. This was real. She was gone.

"No… ple-please… no…" he whimpered. It was all he could manage to say.

Paulson walked over to where Joel was sitting and raised his pistol, leveling it at Joel's forehead. Chief raised a hand to stop him.

"Not just yet, Paulson. We need him until daybreak. Need to see if this secret passage is where he says it is. Once we're inside, you can put him out of his misery."

A look of irritation crossed Paulson's face, but he lowered the gun and holstered it. "Fine. But it's a couple hours until dawn and it's freezing in here. Let's stoke the woodstove, at least."

Chief gave a wave of permission, his gaze not leaving Joel's stunned countenance. Joel's eyes hadn't left Lakyn's body since he opened them, and his expression was slowly transitioning from shock to a blank absence. He moved closer to Joel's side and spoke in a low, malevolent voice.

"I was never going to let her live, Joel. You should have known that," he said ponderously while examining Joel's face for any sort of reaction. "But she was just so useful. I couldn't resist giving you hope. You should have seen the look on your face when Paulson pulled the trigger. It was… exquisite."

Joel offered no response but to soundlessly mouth fragments of words. His eyelids fluttered from time to time, sending plummeting droplets to trickle onto his shirt. Chief found his lack of reaction mildly frustrating and decided to prod further.

"I'm not sure who this Allie - or was it Ellie -" his focus drifted as his mind returned to the memory of Lakyn's words. "Ellie," he said with a confirmative nod. "I'm not sure who this 'Ellie' is, but I assure you, I'll make it a priority to pay her a visit when we get into town." The corners of his mouth tugged up into a vindictive grin, which quickly faded when Joel gave no reaction and continued his incessant muttering. Eventually, Chief grew bored of his little game, stood, and crossed the room to converse with his men.

Joel's lips kept mindlessly forming the same four words over and over. You can't save her. It was no longer a taunt from a lingering phantom. It had become the four-word summation of his wretched life. You can't save her. It had proven true time and time and time again. His life had been forever marred by the women he couldn't save. Sarah. Tess. Lakyn. Images of each body flashed before his mind. It was a recurring theme. Bullet holes. Pools of dark red blood. Lifeless bodies.

To his chagrin, Ellie had always held herself to some amount of blame for Tess's death, but she was wrong. It was him. It was always him. Every girl or woman that meant anything to him had shared the same fate. He was the common thread.

He sat, numb and stupefied, against the wall for what felt like days, fixated on Lakyn's corpse and the four-word mantra of his existence. The bandits milled about around him, mere background disturbances to which he paid no heed. Paulson tended to the fire, warming his hands with the radiant heat. Others rifled through cabinets. One even caught a bit of shut-eye on the bed. Another was constantly scanning the windows, which proved fruitless since it was still too dark to make out anything outside. Chief's attention never strayed far from Joel, somewhat enamored by the state of shock he was in.

The eastern sky slowly began to lighten behind the thick wall of trees. The dozing bandit was roused and the six men gathered in the middle of the room to discuss their tactics once they entered the town. Joel's demeanor remained unchanged. His eyes still bored into Lakyn's limp form. His lips kept up their unconscious cadence. Chief had reckoned that he had completely snapped and wondered if he'd even be worth taking to the wall. He walked over to Joel and struck him with a vicious blow with his pistol grip, hoping to jostle him out of his stupor, but Joel just absorbed the hit and returned to the position he had been in before, eyes tenaciously fixed on Lakyn's body.

The numbness had spread to Joel's vision and hearing. The only thing in his sight that was in sharp focus was her body at his feet. Everything else was a formless blur. All he could hear were the voices in his head. You can't save her. Even if you get her out of here, then what?

He didn't flinch, not even as much as bat an eye, when the first body hit the ground. It was in the peripheral blur that surrounded Lakyn's corpse, and as such went unnoticed. Then the second body hit the ground. There were hints of sound echoing in the back of his mind. Something familiar and deafening. Another body hit the ground. The three remaining bandits scampered around in a panic. Another three vague echoes whispered past his ears, and with each sound, a body fell. Seven bodies now littered the floor of the secluded cabin, but Joel's focus never left the one.

Ellie lowered the smooth wood of the rifle stock from her cheek and scanned the windows for movement. The inside of the cabin was still aside from the dancing flickers of firelight on the walls.

"Did we get them all?" she asked.

"Looks like it," Tommy responded, squinting in the faint light. "C'mon, let's get Joel and Lakyn out of there. Hopefully we're not too late."

He began trotting to the cabin. She sprinted past him, scampered up the steps, and burst through the door. There was blood everywhere. It was splattered on the walls and gathering in large pools on the floor. Her eyes darted around from body to body before finally falling on Joel, seated slumped against the wall with his hands tied behind his back. His face was covered in blood, cuts, and bruises. One of his eyes was nearly swollen shut. Blood soaked his shirt where it had run from his nose onto his neck and chest.

"Joel!" Ellie yelled upon seeing him. She dashed across the room and knelt at his side. She pulled out her switchblade and flicked it open, then reached behind him and cut his bonds. His hands fell limply to his sides. Something wasn't right. "Joel?"

His lips were moving but no sound came from between them. His eyes were fixated on something, and Ellie followed the line of his gaze, landing on a body on the floor. The body had long, black hair that was caked with drying blood. She could see the bullet hole, and then she knew.

"Oh fuck… no… Joel, no..." tears began pouring from her eyes as she looked at Lakyn's lifeless body. "Nooo!" she wailed as she crawled into his lap and wrapped her arms around him. He still hadn't moved. "Oh no, no, no…" Deep sobs shook her small frame as she buried her face into his chest, not caring about the blood that soaked it.

Tommy raised both hands to clutch his head as he absorbed the scene. His brother had already lost too much. To see him lose another person he cared about was unbearable. Joel's demeanor was glaring to him in contrast to his usual disposition. He appeared to be in some state of shock, as he wasn't even responding to Ellie curled up against him, weeping unabated into his shirt. Tommy couldn't bear to look any longer and forced himself to turn away, wiping the tears from his own eyes. He walked over and took a seat on the bed.

Ellie let her sobbing run its course. After what felt like hours, the weeping subsided and she just sat there listening to Joel's heartbeat and shallow breathing. Finally, she picked up her head to look at him. He was still staring blankly at Lakyn's body. "Joel?" He didn't respond. She sat up a bit and positioned herself in his line of sight. "Joel!" She reached up and put her hands on the sides of his head, giving a gentle shake. "Joel! Come back to me!"

As if a trance was being broken, his eyelids flickered and he blinked rapidly a few times. "E-Ellie? What… what are you doin' here?"

"Tommy and I… I couldn't sleep, so I was taking a walk when I heard a gunshot coming from the direction of the cabin we found. I thought you might be in trouble so I went and got Tommy. We shot the bandits. I didn't realize we were too late to save La-" her voice broke midway through her name and she choked back a few more sobs. "Fuck... I'm so sorry, Joel. I'm so, so sorry."

His eyes danced lazily from a mix of exhaustion, pain, and mental stress. "T-t-that's okay, Ellie. I'm okay. I'm okay…"

She wasn't convinced. "You're not okay, Joel. They beat the living shit out of you!" She moved her hands and gently inspected the various cuts, bruises, and hot, swollen regions of skin. "We need to get you back to Jackson."

"We're takin' her with us," he said, making a trembling gesture towards Lakyn's body. "I… we need to put her in the ground. She deserves… deserves better than to be lyin' here like this..."

Ellie thought back to last summer when Henry and Sam had died. It had taken her minutes of constant insistence to convince Joel to help her dig graves for them. To see him be the first one to insist on it now spoke to how Lakyn had affected him.

"Of course," she said softly and turned to look at Tommy. "Tommy will help get her out of he-"

"No," Joel interrupted, his tone alarmingly firm.

He brought his wrists up and rubbed them with his now freed hands. He stumbled forward onto his knees and crawled over to Lakyn's body. With the gentle care of one handling a sacred and precious relic, he slowly rolled her onto her back. The sight made Ellie cringe. Lakyn had been lying in her own blood, and one side of her face was caked with a coagulated claret sludge. There was a deep gouge in her thigh, and her jeans were barely recognizable as denim beneath all of the blood. She was badly bruised, cut, and beaten. It made Ellie's heart ache to see someone so gentle and lovely in such ghastly condition. She deserved better than this.

Joel gingerly eased his arms beneath her broken body. Straining against his wounds, he picked her up and cradled her close to his chest. He looked up at Tommy and Ellie, both standing before him with crestfallen expressions on their faces.

"C'mon," Tommy said somberly as he lead them out of the forsaken cabin.

Ellie leaned against the neighboring headstone, hugging her knees to her chest, and watched Joel dig. She had tried offering her help, but he waved her off each time. She resigned to sit nearby and at least offer him the comfort of her company, but to her, for the first time in a long time, her presence didn't seem to provide any solace. The blade of the shovel struck the hard ground over and over again with forlorn stubbornness as the hole grew gradually deeper.

She studied his face as he dug, but it was utterly inscrutable. His brow was furrowed, and within it she detected hints of solemnity, anger, despondency, and regret all in simultaneous collaboration.

"Joel?" He gave no indication that he had noticed her speaking. She tried again, louder. "Joel?" He continued to dig, hands becoming raw under the abrasive friction of the worn handle of the shovel. His muscles had to be aching and his wounds tugging at his will, but he persisted.

Ellie rose to her feet and approached him cautiously, extending a hand and placing it on his arm. He flinched at the contact, but looked up at her.

"What is it?" he asked, genuinely inquisitive as if just being roused from a dream.

"Joel, you need to rest. Let me take a turn. I can help."

He turned back to the grave and continued to dig. "No."

Hot tears burned behind her eyes. She had never seen him like this, and he hadn't been this dismissive to her since Boston. She wanted to object, but thought better of it, returning to her place at the headstone and watching him sorrowfully.

After another half-hour of digging, he climbed out of the hole and drove the shovel into the dirt. Ellie watched as he lifted Lakyn's body, which had been carefully wrapped in a sheet, and brought it to the hole. He placed her on the edge of the grave and stepped down into it, reaching back up to ease her into her final resting place.

He stooped down and placed a soft kiss on her forehead, then climbed out of the grave. He picked up the shovel and began returning dirt to the hole. Ellie watched him in silence until the job was complete. He used the flat surface of the shovel to fastidiously pat down the top layer of dirt over the grave. Deeming it satisfactory, he returned the shovel to its place in the corner of the cemetery and then stood at the foot of Lakyn's grave for a long time.

Ellie rose and came alongside him, wrapping an arm around his waist but offering no words. Joel stared down at the neatly matted dirt patch before him and Ellie felt his diaphragm tremble with each breath.

After several minutes, his lips parted and his parched voice spoke two simple words. "I'm sorry."

Ellie had drawn herself up next to him on the mattress, softly rubbing his back in a gesture of comfort. She had done her best to clean him up, insisting she be the one to dress his wounds and get him into some clean clothes. After they turned in for the night, she had doggedly tried to stay awake, a watchful guardian over him, but the loss of sleep from the night before proved too much to overcome. Now, her eyelids had slid closed and her breaths were deep and even.

He eased himself from beneath her arm and slowly crept off the mattress. He padded over to where his pack lay slumped on the floor, reached down and, as quietly as he could, picked it up and left the room. He slunk downstairs, threw on his heavy coat and pulled on his pack before leaving out the front door. The moon was high in the sky, casting a cold, dim white light over the landscape.

He headed towards Tommy and Maria's, head downcast as he walked. He didn't acknowledge the stray passing citizen as he went. Upon arriving at Tommy and Maria's, he pulled a scrap of paper and a pen he had found from his pack. He scrawled four words onto the slip of paper and slid it under their front door.

He turned and made for the western wall of Jackson. The guard at the gate recognized him and asked where he was headed. Joel told him he was just taking a walk and gestured to the pack on his back as a sign of preparation if he found any trouble. The guard let him pass, and he made his way into the woods.

Before long, he came to the banks of the Snake River. He stared into the steadily flowing water for a long time, contemplating on the four words he had written as well as the four words that had been haunting him since Salt Lake City.

Everything he had done since they first left the dam last fall he had done to keep Ellie safe. He was her guardian, needed or not, against the outside forces who would seek to destroy her. But he never gave consideration to the concept that he needed to keep her safe from himself. Marlene was right, but not in the way she thought. If he stayed close to Ellie, she would undoubtedly share the same fate as the rest he had cared about. The thought of her lying lifeless in a pool of her own blood was excruciatingly unbearable. He would not let that happen.

With a trembling hand, he drew the revolver from his waistband. He swung the cylinder out and checked the bullets nestled within it. He traced each one with deliberation before sliding the cylinder back into place with an ominous click. He dropped to his knees at the river side and stared up at the sky.

This was the only way she could be safe. He had to remove himself from the equation that would assuredly result in her death. The revolver's weight grew exponentially in his hand as he brought it up to his head. This was the only way. For her.

The gunmetal was cold against his temple, and it sent a shiver down his spine. His finger searched for the trigger, and in finding it, rested upon it lightly. Tears began to trail from his eyes as he searched the vast heavens for any source of condolence.

"Forgive me, baby girl," he whispered, not sure if he was addressing Sarah, Ellie, or both.

But his finger wouldn't move. He threw his will against the muscles and tendons in his finger and hand, but the crescent slice of metal was immovable. It was frozen in place. His determination crumbled.

"You're a coward," a voice behind him said.

The sound startled him and he spun around to find its source. A figure stepped out of the shadows and into the pale moonlight bathing the riverbank. It was her again.

"What?" he asked dumbly.

"You heard me. You're a coward. This is your opportunity to ensure Ellie's safety and you can't even pull the trigger." Marlene crossed her arms and glared at him disapprovingly from beneath the bullet hole in her forehead. "You're a pathetic excuse for a man."

Joel shook his head to clear it and blinked several times, but the apparition would not dissipate this time. "Go away. You're not real," he said in an effort to assure himself.

"What's the matter, Joel? There's no getting rid of me. You can't even pull the fucking trigger. You're weak."

"Leave me alone," he whispered, closing his eyes and continuing to shake his head.

"You came all this way. You brought her halfway across the country, only to take away her sole hope of redemption to fulfill your own selfish desires-"

"No…"

"-and now you have this one chance to free her from your curse and you can't even do it. You're a special kind of bastard, Joel."

"Shut up!"

"Here, you pathetic piece of shit, I'll help you. Lift the gun." He made no motion in response. "Do it!" she bellowed, the magnitude of her voice shaking the earth and causing ripples to emanate from the banks of the river.

Startled, he pressed the gun to his temple, but his finger still remained immobile against the trigger.

"Do it!" she roared again.

"No…"

"Do it, Joel!"

"I said leave me alone!" he screamed.

And then she was gone. He opened his eyes to find an empty bank before him. Her footprints remained, but she was gone. He let the gun fall from his temple to land haphazardly in his lap. He just couldn't bring himself to do it. He was weak.

He stared at the glinting metal in the moonlight, weighing his options. Only one remained. He turned to look to the west, slowly rose to his feet, and headed towards the nearest river crossing, putting Jackson at his back forever.

Ellie awoke with a shiver, bristling against the deathly chill that had poured into the room. She opened her eyes and turned to look at Joel. But he wasn't there. Sitting up, she rubbed the sleep from the corners of her eyes. She stiffly rose to her feet and headed downstairs, expecting to find him in the kitchen making breakfast. But the kitchen was empty.

"Joel?" she called to the vacant house. There was no reply.

She hugged her elbows and shivered again. Why was it so damn cold? Her ruminations were interrupted by a knock at the front door. She heard the familiar timbre of Tommy's voice calling her name. She trotted over to the front door and opened it to find Tommy and Maria. Their faces were grim.

"What's going on?" Ellie asked. Maria shot a look at Tommy. "Have you guys seen Joel? I can't seem to find him and I'm starting to worry."

"Can we come in?" Tommy asked.

Ellie stepped aside and welcomed them into the living room. They took their respective seats on the couch and Tommy gestured for Ellie to do the same. She took a seat in the arm chair and they shifted in their seats to face her.

"We haven't seen Joel, but… this mornin'… we woke to find this slipped beneath our front door." Tommy extended a folded scrap of paper to her and she took it.

She unfolded the scrap, a sense of dread beginning to seep into her bones. Four simple, hastily scrawled words leapt from the page. PLEASE WATCH OVER HER. She stared at it blankly.

"What is this?" she asked.

"Joel left it for us, Tommy and I," Maria replied. "Ellie, he's… he's gone."

Ellie blinked. "What do you mean, gone? Dead?"

Tommy shook his head. "I don't think so. Wallace at the west gate said he let Joel pass through sometime in the early mornin' hours. Said he was goin' for a walk. He… he never came back."

A smoldering lump of anger began forming in the pit of Ellie's stomach. This didn't make any sense. Joel said he would never leave her. He had promised. He couldn't be gone. Flustered, she tossed down the note and rushed upstairs. She grabbed her coat and backpack and threw them on, then made for the front door, almost forgetting Tommy and Maria were still in the living room.

"Ellie, where are you-"

"After him," she said curtly as she stepped through the front door.

She ran to the west gate. The buildings and people of the town passed by in a blur. Before she knew it, she came upon the sheer façade of the west gate and ordered the guard to let her through. The guard didn't take kindly to her tone, but eventually complied when she became more belligerent.

She stepped outside the walls of Jackson and gazed into the expanse of woods and mountains before her. The crisp chill in the air bit at her cheeks and earlobes, and she pulled her coat up tight against her neck and chest. There was something else on the air that gave her pause. White flakes had begun to fall, lilting lazily on the air currents and coming to rest on any flat surface that would harbor them. Icy fingers reached into Ellie's chest and grasped firmly around her heart, bringing with them a cold, oppressive weight. Winter was coming, and she would have no choice but to face it. Steadying her resolve, she adjusted her backpack and coat and stepped into the woods.

Somewhere behind her, within the walls of the city, a distant voice was calling her name. But she didn't hear it. She was alone.

THE END

THIS CONCLUDES AFTERMATH: PART II

STAY TUNED FOR THE FIRST CHAPTER OF PART III