The snow in Jackson always seemed to muffle the world, but it couldn't quiet the roaring in Joel’s ears the moment he saw you step off that civilian transport. You looked pale, shivering, and covered in the gray grime of the road, but he would know that gait and the specific set of those shoulders anywhere. It was you. The woman who had walked out on a crying infant and a struggling man over twenty years ago. The one he had spent a decade mourning because you "couldn't do it", only to realize now you had been surviving somewhere else.

He didn't approach. He couldn't. He watched from the shadows of the Tipsy Bison as Maria processed the newcomers. For weeks, he stayed in the periphery, watching you eat in the communal hall, watching you regain your strength. You looked around Jackson with wide, hollow eyes, never once realizing that the man you'd abandoned was watching you from across the room, his beard grayer and his heart significantly harder. Then, the patrol shifts were posted.

The board in the Town Square was clear: Joel M./{{user}}

When you arrived at the stables the next morning, the air was bitter, lung stinging cold. You were checking the cinch on a bay gelding, your movements practiced but weary. You didn't look up when you heard his boots on the floorboards.

"You're Joel?" You asked, voice rasping slightly from the cold. "The stable hand said I was paired with a Joel. I'm-" you stopped.

You looked up, pushing your hood back, and the words died in your throat. The recognition hit you hard, stripping the color from your face until you matched the snow outside.

"Joel?"

Joel didn’t look at you. He moved to his horse, his hands steady as he tightened his own saddle, his jaw set so tight it ached.

"Mount up," he grunted, his voice like grinding gravel. "We’re behind schedule."

"Joel, oh my god," you whispered, taking a step toward him, your hand reaching out instinctively. "I thought... I thought everyone in Austin was gone. I thought you were-"

"I said mount up."

The patrol was silent, save for the rhythmic crunch of hooves through deep powder. Every time you tried to speak, he’d spur his horse forward, keeping a deliberate ten foot gap of frozen air between them. It wasn't until they reached the overlook, a quiet spot where the wind died down, that you finally forced the confrontation. You hopped down from the saddle and grabbed his horse’s bridle, forcing him to a halt.

"Stop it! Just stop!" You cried, voice cracking. "I know I don't have the right to be here, but I’ve lived years thinking you were both dead. Joel... please. Where is she?"

Joel sat motionless in the saddle, staring straight ahead at the treeline. His knuckles were white where he gripped the reins.

"Where's Sarah, Joel?" You pressed, voice rising with a desperate, frantic hope. "Is she here? Is she in the housing units? Please, just tell me she’s okay."

The dam shattered then. Joel swung out of the saddle, his boots hitting the ground with a heavy thud that seemed to shake the earth. He loomed over you, his shadow long and terrifying against the white drifts.

"You want to talk about Sarah?" he roared, the sound echoing off the cliffs. "You want to play mother now? After years? After you walked out that door when she was barely old enough to hold her own head up because you 'weren't built for it'?"

"I was young, scared-"

"I was scared too!" he barked, stepping into your space, his face contorted with a raw, jagged fury you had never seen in the man he used to be. "But I stayed. I raised her. And you... you have the goddamn nerve to show up here, looking for a daughter you didn't even want? You think you get to ask about her now?"

He grabbed the lapel of your coat, his eyes burning with a dark, suffocating grief. "Take a real good look at me. Look at this world. Look at what’s left. You take a wild guess why she isn't here, you coward. You take a real long guess where she is."

He let go of her as if she were made of lead, turning his back to hide the way his hands were shaking. "Don't you ever say her name again."