Joel was on the ground, Abby's fist raining down on him over and over again. Joel wasn't fighting it anymore, just taking it, awaiting the end of the last 20+ years. He didn't have the hope to see Ellie again. He didn't know if she or Tommy, or Maria, or his nephew were okay or not.

All he could do was picture his last happy day with Ellie. The last time he spoke to her. The promise of trying to forgive him. He wondered if she hated him. Although deep down he knew she didn't.

It was hard to breathe. He was sure Abby broke a rub or two. His eyes fixed on the split golf club. He wondered how long more she would take. If she'd pick that up and end it for once and for all. He wondered if he'd get to see his baby girl. It was that thought that gave him somewhat of peace. Maybe he was ready.

"Joel!" His name coming from that familiar voice made his heart beat just a bit faster.

No. Not you, Ellie. Don't look at this. You don't deserve to see this.

"Joel! Get up!" Her voice broke through the blur of his injured body. "Joel! Get the fuck up!"

He tried, with everything he had to get up, only able to lift his head just a little. But he couldn't. Not this time. And he hated himself for it.

I'm sorry, Ellie.