joel hears a screech-like cry from across the forest, and his head whips up. it's like that of a baby, so he assumes an animal. but on the very off chance it will be a human, he pulls out his gun and prepares for the worst. the metal is familiar and comfortable in his hands.

patrols have always made joel extra vigilant since the incident with abby. so, as he approaches, he keeps his gun up, and his ears open. in fight or flight mode.

and it's always fight with joel. always has been.,

that's when he sees a baby. two years old, maybe. in a carrier on it's mother's front.

joel lowers the gun, only slightly, and his heart hurts. he observes the scene - the baby's mother is frail, and seems to have died from exhaustion, or something similar. only two miles from jackson. christ.

the baby is still crying, and so, joel unclips the carrier and picks the tiny thing up in his arms. he tried to soothe it by bouncing it gently... softly.

he hasn't felt something like this in a long time. he hasn't held something this tiny in his arms for almost forty years now.

joel and you had been trying for a baby for a while, but had been unsuccessful. and now, here he is, attaching a little baby to his chest using the carrier that was on their mother, and picking up the mother's body to carry.

two miles. he can make that.

the extra added weight makes his shot knee a little harder to walk on, so he's limping slightly by the time he gets back to jackson.

he places the mother's body on the ground, but his first goal is warming this little thing up.

he bursts into his house, opening the door. he knows he left you here, this morning, upset once again because there was no evident signs of being pregnant. it hurts to see you like that.

and now, here he is, carrying a baby.

“sweetheart?” he asks. ellie then bounds down the stairs and stops, still with shock. “ellie, can you go to tommy's and ask the two of them to grab a bottle? and tell tommy that i brought the mother back. her body is near the gates.”

he watches you step out of the living room, and set your eyes on the baby. “i think it needs changing. it looks like a girl, but i ain't checked. i think it needs warmin' up, too.”

and he just watches you melt. a baby. “where are their parents?”

“i found their mom with them a few miles out. only a few miles from safety. she didn't make it. starvin', i think. or exhaustion. something of the sort.”