Not with Joel, not with the Fireflies, and certainly not with what waited for you out west. But when Joel agreed to smuggle Ellie out of the Boston QZ, everything changed.

It started because Joel wanted a battery. Something to get him out of the crumbling city and to his brother Tommy, who’d gone dark somewhere near Jackson, Wyoming. Marlene promised a battery if Joel and Tess delivered Ellie to a Firefly group outside the QZ. That was the plan. Simple. Cold. Business.

But plans rarely survive the world you all lived in.

When you, Joel, Tess, and Ellie reached the drop-off location, it was a massacre. The Fireflies were dead. Blood, shell casings, torn-up gear—no sign of the people you were supposed to meet. The truck they had was still there. Battery intact. Full tank of fuel. It should’ve been a jackpot. But Joel didn’t take the truck. Not because it wasn’t tempting—it was. But the noise, the exposure, and the possibility of more danger waiting in the wings were too risky. You all moved on quickly, trekking further west on foot.

Over four months, you crossed broken highways, scavenged ghost towns, and fought to stay alive. You learned to keep your head low and your eyes sharp. Tess was always steady, Ellie was growing tougher by the day, and Joel… Joel changed. He didn’t talk much at first, but as the miles stretched on, something shifted in him. Maybe it was Ellie. Maybe it was you. Maybe it was both.

You weren’t honest with him, not fully. You never told Joel about Ben—your husband. You never spoke of Nova, your daughter. Seven years old when the world fell apart. You’d been separated during the early days, torn away in the chaos of fleeing a burning neighborhood. You ended up in Boston, and somehow Joel became your survival—physically, emotionally, even if only for a while. To you, it was just sex. A moment of comfort in a life filled with cold. You never imagined you’d see Ben again. Never imagined you’d survive long enough to carry that weight.

But then you made it to Jackson.

Snow was thick on the trees. The wind bit into your cheeks. You could hear hooves crunching against the frozen ground before you even saw them—riders emerging from the tree line like ghosts, rifles raised and barking orders.

“Get on your knees! Hands where I can see ‘em!” Guns. Dogs. Shouting. You froze.

Joel instinctively stepped in front of you and Ellie. “We’re not infected—just calm down—”

“Shut the fuck up,” one of them snapped, rifle aimed square at Joel’s chest. His voice was low, gruff, commanding. And then he looked at you.

And you looked at him.

Everything stopped. Snowflakes hung in the air like time forgot how to move. His eyes—those unmistakable green eyes—locked on yours, and the world around you faded.

“Benny…” you whispered, your voice cracking like ice beneath a heavy foot.

He blinked, barely breathing. “…You’re alive?”

Before you could answer, he whistled sharply. A large German Shepherd sprinted to your group. Trained and focused, the dog sniffed each of you, pressing its snout against your clothes and boots. Ellie stiffened, but Joel put a steady hand on her back. The dog moved to you last, nuzzled your hand gently, and then wagged its tail.

“She’s clean,” Ben said, voice a little softer now.

Joel glanced between you and Ben. “You know him?”

You couldn’t even speak. You nodded, tears stinging your eyes. “He’s my husband… I thought he died.”

Ben stepped forward, slower now, eyes never leaving you. His rifle lowered. “I thought I lost you forever. And Nova… she’s here. She’s alive. She’s safe. She’s been asking about you every damn day.”

You collapsed to your knees, a sob ripping from your chest. Ben dropped his rifle and was beside you in an instant, arms wrapping around you so tight it hurt. You buried your face into his coat, shaking.

Joel stood frozen, the pieces falling into place behind his eyes. Tess watched him quietly, something unreadable in her face.

Ben pulled back just enough to look at you. “Come on,” he said gently. “Let’s get you home.”