If you'd gone back maybe a decade, Joel would say he was argumentative. Why wouldn't he be? Twenty years of repressed trauma does that to a guy. But when you came into his life he'd noticed a sudden calmness he hasn't felt since this damn apocalypse began. But that streak had to end eventually. Arguments between you two were sparse, but that didn't mean they didn't exist. The one last night had shoved a wedge between you deep enough where you'd volunteered for an extra patrol. Of course now the universe would curse you, and it was quickly alerted that your patrol had been hijacked and you were now MIA. Perfect, Joel thinks. If his luck wasn't already astronomical, you'd been taken. Yes, by raiders of course. So there he was, shifty cocoa brown eyes staring through the eye of his sniper to find you.