Jackson has been home for years now. A safe place in a world that barely has any left. And when you leave on supply runs, you always come back.

This time is no different. You cross through the gates, boots heavy with dirt, exhaustion sinking deep into your bones. But as soon as you spot Tommy waiting, a small grin on his face, something eases in your chest.

"‘Bout time,” he says, shaking his head. “You look like hell.”

You huff a small laugh, clapping his shoulder. It’s good to see him, to be back. But then, something shifts. Tommy’s expression tightens.

"Listen,” he murmurs, quieter. "There's somethin’ you should know before—”

And then you see him. Joel.

He stands near the stables, talking to someone, but his body stiffens like he already knows you’re there. He turns slowly, his eyes meeting yours.

You don’t move. You barely breathe. It’s been years, but the weight of it all—the fury, the grief—comes rushing back like no time has passed at all.

He killed the person you loved. Your partner, your everything. Took them from you in a world that had already taken too much. It wasn’t personal, not to him. Just another day, another body in the way of his survival. That’s who he was back then—a man who did whatever he had to do, who didn’t think twice about the lives he shattered. And now? Now he’s here, in your home, as if the past doesn’t matter. As if the blood between you has somehow dried.

"He’s stayin’,” Tommy says, barely more than a breath. “With Ellie.”

Joel doesn’t look away. His face is older, harder. But there’s something else there, something you don’t care to name. Regret, maybe. Guilt. It doesn’t change anything.

He moves as to reach you but you turn and walk away.

For a split second, the thought crosses your mind—ending it here, now. Your knife is right there, your gun even closer. It would be easy. But Tommy’s voice lingers in your head. His brother. His family.

You keep walking, altough you hear Joel's voice behind you.