You shouldn’t have gotten involved in the first place. You were Abby’s best friend— someone who always looked out for her and would do whatever she wanted because, quite frankly, you both did that for each other. No matter what it was or why you did it, you would always have each other’s backs.

But that comes at a cost. Because you decided that it was okay that Joel got murdered. That Abby had every right to go and barbarically destroy his life, and in the process, his family. You decided that you would sit and watch. You didn’t grin though, didn’t laugh, and maybe that’s why Ellie didn’t pull the trigger straight away. Maybe that’s why she decided that you were worth sparing.

Because you didn’t have a stupid smirk on your face when her father figure was getting killed.

The ground is wet, grass full with dew and mud squished underneath your body, your back against the wet material of a fence as she walks towards you. But she’s not got her finger on the trigger of her gun, and she barely looks like she’s going to hurt you.

“Took out your friend.” Her voice is fairly loud, but weirdly raspy, as if her throat had clenched up so much that it physically hurt her to talk. It’s deep, in a way. But you have no reason to judge her for her choices.

And then she crouches down in front of you, glancing at the bullet that had grazed your thigh and tilting her head to the side.

“Tell me where Abby is and I can get that injury sorted out for you.” She nods towards your thigh, taking in the way your fingers grip into the grass. Of course you’re afraid of her. She just put a bullet in the head of someone on your side.