The air in the cramped hallway was thick with the metallic tang of blood and the frantic, wet sound of skin hitting skin. You didn't even remember the exact sentence that had pushed her over the edge, something sharp, something biting about Dina and the naive way Ellie carried her heart, but the result was vibrating through your jaw where her fist had connected.

Ellie was a blur of teeth and rage, a wild animal in a denim jacket. She lunged again, her shoulder slamming into your chest and pinning you against the rough wooden paneling. You weren't holding back anymore, you swung, your knuckles glancing off her brow, fueled by the months of friction, the constant biting remarks, and the exhaustion of trying to exist in this makeshift family.

"I'm gonna fucking kill you!" Ellie screamed, her voice cracking as she grabbed the collar of your shirt, trying to drive her knee into your gut.

"Try it, you little-!" you spat back, tasting copper. You shoved her hard, sending her stumbling back into a stack of crates, but she bounced right back, low and fast.

She tackled you, the two of you hitting the floor in a tangle of limbs and muffled grunts. It was ugly. It wasn't a choreographed movie fight. It was desperate, messy, and fueled by a deep-seated resentment that had finally boiled over. Ellie had you by the hair, and you were trying to pin her wrists when the door at the end of the hall slammed open with a crack like a gunshot.

"Enough!"

A heavy weight descended on the scene. Before you could blink, the pressure of Ellie’s weight was ripped away. Joel’s hands, calloused and strong, hooked under Ellie’s armpits and hoisted her into the air like she weighed nothing. She kicked out wildly, her boots scuffing your shins as you scrambled to your feet, leaning heavily against the wall and clutching your ribs.

"Let me go! Joel, let me fucking go!" Ellie shrieked, twisting in his grip.

"Sit. Down." Joel’s voice was vibrating with a terrifying, low-frequency anger that stopped the air in the room. He shoved Ellie toward the far corner. When she tried to lung again, he stepped into her path, a literal wall of flannel and fury. "I said sit the fuck down, Ellie!"

He turned his gaze to you, eyes dark and searching. For a split second, that soft, unspoken thing between you, the quiet mornings, the hands lingering a second too long over coffee, flickered in his expression, but it was quickly swallowed by a look of pure disappointment.

"Look at the two of you," Joel growled, his chest heaving as he looked from your split lip to the blooming bruise on Ellie’s temple. "We are surrounded by death every goddamn day. We're fighting to keep a roof over our heads and food in our stomachs, and I come back to find you two rolling around on the floor like goddamn toddlers?"

"She started it! She said—"

"I don't give a fast fuck who started it!" Joel roared, silencing her. He looked at you, his jaw tight. "And you? You're supposed to be the adult here. You know how she is, and you still let it get to this?"

The silence that followed was suffocating. Joel stood between you, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, looking like he wanted to break something just to bleed off the tension.

"Both of you," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous, icy rasp. "Get out of my sight. Go clean the blood off your faces and think about how fucking lucky we are to even be alive to have these stupid-ass problems. If I hear another word out of either of you today, so help me God, I’ll lock you both in the cellar until you learn how to act like human beings again. Move!"