Chapter Text
It has been a month since the world Joel knew officially went up in flames. A month since he got stranded in this weird lakeside cabin, too paranoid to leave the woods and investigate whatever the hell has taken even his TV privileges away from him.
The very last thing Joel has seen on the news was someone sobbing their eyes out, begging for their old colleague not to eat their face live. It didn't work.
He casts his fishing rod again and mentally thanks Grian for his incredibly time-consuming hobby. He and Jimmy were supposed to arrive later due to complications at work, but after nearly a month of radio silence, Joel is fairly confident that his friends won't ever be here anymore. So much for a fun (Bad) Boys trip.
Joel wonders if his wife is doing well at home. He wonders if Lizzie is doing anything at all.
Something tugs on the line, Joel begins reeling it in. What a weird-looking creature (I would be putting a fish pic here if I had any). He de-hooks it and tosses it into his bucket, not really sparing the slimy thing a second glance. Maybe one day he will find a fish-tionary, then he will know with what kind of abomination he has been feeding himself lately.
For now, Joel wants to go back inside and prepare his food, then cry a little bit before gaslighting himself into forgetting how embarrassing the whole thing was and get some sleep in his system. The plan, supposedly fool-proofed as it seems, falls apart as soon as he notices a flash of blue in the corner of his eyes.
"Good afternoon, Joel. Do you mind if I join?"
It's Scott Major, dressed in an ugly red jacket a size too big for him and some equally horrendous leggings, ripped in rather unfortunate places. Joel doesn't have it in him to question where this guy has found all that ill-fitting clothes from, not when he's obviously desperate enough to sit down somewhere (kind of) safe that he's speaking to his old workplace rival of all people.
Ugh.
In a moment of generosity that surprises both himself and Scott, he nods at the kind-of-familiar face. Even to his own ears, his voice sounds awkward, almost as if he hasn't been using it since his final attempt to call Lizzie failed.
He hasn't. Not much point talking to himself when there's nothing worth narrating happening in the area.
"Eh, sure, whatever. Just don't bother me when I'm doing my thing."
The other guy smiles. He looks more beat up than the last time Joel saw him, and certainly less steady on his feet. A huge portion of his face and his right arm is bandaged, but the fabric looks worn out and dirty. If he has to guess, the teal-haired idiot probably didn't get the chance to change them as often as a doctor would recommend.
"Thank you. I'll be right next door if you need me."
That one was supposed to be Grian's cabin, specifically chosen to piss Jimmy off because it's got the best view of the lake. Considering the circumstances, though, it's probably for the best that its ownership is transferred to someone who can actually make use of the facilities. Surely his old coworker couldn't mess up living in a proper house, even if Joel doesn't have much faith in him otherwise.
"Cool. Bye," After a moment, he adds rather lamely. "Scott."
Stupid guy smiles at him again. Joel ignores the way his legs are trembling like he's going to pass out the moment he's alone. Already the brunette is regretting his own decisions, but kicking Scott out right now feels strangely like abandoning a hurt puppy, and the mere thought of doing that makes him sick.
————
"I see you're still alive there."
Turning away to (narrowly) brush off a blinding smile sent his way, Joel puts his bucket down and fills it with water before taking his usual seat at the wooden fishing dock. This thing looks like it can barely support the weight of one person, yet Scott walks (limps) over and sits next to him anyway. He's considerate enough to leave some space between them, despite the hopeful expression clearly implying this weirdo is just hoping to leech off the fruits (fish) of his labour. It does make sense, to a degree, because Joel has never seen him so much as peel his own fruit before.
Not that they were having lunch together every single day in tense silence and he didn't know what to do besides observing Scott or anything.
"Morning to you too, Joel. For both our sakes, I'm going to pretend you were pleasantly surprised by my continuous survival."
He averts his gaze again, pointedly ignoring the still-healing wounds all over Scott's body. Whatever craziness he has faced trying to get to safety isn't any of Joel's business, and since they have never been close enough friends for him to reach out emotionally anyway, he doesn't have to feel guilty about it.
That internal declaration, unfortunately, doesn't stop the other man from watching him fish, turning the mind-numbingly repetitive motions into something more stressful. Logically speaking, Joel knows Scott is no angling expert, if the way he's humming fascination every time the brunette so much as twitches his hands. Still, the residual heat from their (not!!!! one-sided) workplace rivalry keeps him on edge as he trudges through the familiar routine.
At least the lake seems nice to him today. Maybe she— it's aware of Joel's not-guest's presence, he files the anthropomorphism away as another side effect of prolonged isolation, and wants to treat them to something nice. Not that Joel can actually tell the difference between this batch of aquatic abominations and the previous ones, he just finds them a bit visually unsettling than usual. Definitely more iridescent as well.
Stupid Scott makes another happy sound when Joel offers him raw fish, the uglier ones, if only due to his own unwillingness to put them in his perfectly good veggie soup and find out just how deadly those shiny little monsters is. It's almost like his dog whenever she "steals" a piece of food from her owner's plate.
Joel frowns at the comparison, pushing away the sudden longing in his chest. Lizzie is, was, home with all the pets last he checked, and his sanity must be going off the rails if this random guy he barely knows as a person is reminding him of Meri, even if she was such a sweetheart no one could hate or forget.
Unlike Scott, of course.
Perhaps he should ask the guy about his journey later, just to figure out why and how he managed to stumble across these cabins when everyone Joel has ever loved failed to show up. For now, though, he will take his hard-earned source of protein, the ones he already knows are safe to eat, back inside, and he will not spare that teal-haired moron a second glance.
—————
Scott's well-being is, by all means, his own goddamn problem, so Joel isn't sure why he's so relieved to see the guy moving around with much more ease as time goes on. They don't even do anything together aside from fishing, and his old rival, as it turns out, doesn't suck at it too much, which means Joel only has to tolerate the sight of his pathetic-looking face for 2/3 of his Lake Time™.
Optimism is doing wonders to help him sleep at night, really. If only Scott would take a hint and leave Joel alone during daytime as well.
"God, do you ever shut up?"
"No, not really," This stupid guy has the audacity to smirk at him now, something he has been doing a lot more often lately as his face has healed enough for the expression to come across as smug and not, well, physically painful to accomplish. "Besides, you did ask about my wonderful adventures."
"I wanted a recap, Scott. You literally gave me gory details on some random dude's death!"
"Martyn wasn't just some dude, silly, he traded his life for mine. It was very 'knight in shining armor" of him."
Joel can't be bothered to hide his exasperation, eyes rolling so far upwards that they might just see the inside of his skull and the two braincells working overtime to filter out all those traumatizing images fed to him. The two of them have never really made small talk before, let alone one-on-one storytelling sessions like this, but he can already recognize the drama queen his ex-coworker used to be pre-calamity.
Well, it's good to know Scott's personality hasn't changed much despite the universe itself nearly beating him into oblivion. If he can bring himself to make theatrical jokes about dead teammates and the scarring wound on his forehead then he can take some attitude. All in all, it's a small price to pay for both Joel's delightful company and that cabin Scott is still living in.
"Whatever, he seems like a loser anyway. Imagine not surviving the first month of a weird magical apocalypse."
Scott chuckles at his remark, but the sound is dry even by Joel's standards. He glances at the guy, totally not because he wants to check on him or anything, only to notice how faded his previously teal hair has become after a month or two without proper maintenance. At this rate, the guy's hair will go back to its original shade of blond before they know it. As sad as it may be for a fashion lover like Scott, it's impossible to find dye now, especially since they live in the woods and don't have access to any reliable means of transportation. Joel doesn't really want to help him find a way, of course, it's just going to be a struggle getting used to Scott's new appearance right after his reluctant acceptance that his old workplace nemesis is staying here for good.
That Martyn guy definitely did the right thing by dying before they could get to safety, at least, as Joel isn't sure if he can handle having two almost-strangers running around camp at once. Still, Jimmy's cabin should and will hopefully still be empty just in case.
(In case what? His friends are all done for already, and normal people don't venture this deep into the forest, let alone finding a strangely well-hidden campsite out of nowhere.)
He gives Scott a side eye at that thought. The guy barely acknowledges it, distractedly smiling back as he reels in something squirmy and purple.
Ugh, the audacity.
—————
"What in the world is that."
Scott has the gall to smile at him, looking genuinely pleased with his find. The little bundle in his arms twitches, and Joel has to shove down the sudden urge to smash it against a tree. That would mean touching the creature first, which he suspects is radioactive and absolutely not the kind of side quest he wants unlocked for either of them, like, ever.
"I found her last night. Well, she found a way into my cabin somehow, and I didn't really want to kick her out when it's so dangerous outside."
He rolls his eyes. Only this idiot would let a wild animal into his house so willingly after a world-cataclysm. Joel still doesn't understand how he has managed to survive that first month after humanity came to an end, but it's obviously not thanks to his incredible survival instincts.
Maybe it's a mix of luck and the universe wanting to mess with them specifically. Knowing how weird Scott is, it probably is the case.
"I don't care about her tragic backstory, stupid. What species even is that thing?"
Scott shrugs.
"Ehh, a horse? She looks like one, at least, but the horn seems unusual..."
A tiny head pokes out from the blanket, something vaguely foal-shaped but definitely not the right size, her cutesy round eyes doing nothing to distract both men from the glowing stub on the creature's forehead. She's either magical (somehow) or irreversibly changed by radiation. Joel has to assume the answer is both, at least until he has evidence suggesting otherwise.
Hopefully all the strange fish he and Scott has consumed will have helped them build up some resistance by now.
"Nope, we're not keeping this... unicorn around. I don't trust that face."
"But Joel, she's so tiny!" The other man protests. "If we release her into the wilderness now, she probably won't make it."
Does that have anything to do with either of them? Of course not, this colorful idiot just has a soft spot for vulnerable animals. Having an unknown mutant around might end up putting them in danger, not to mention all the resources Joel will have to share with Scott in order to raise this horse properly, because he is (unfortunately) not one to neglect a pet, no matter how much hatred those sparkling little orbs incites in him.
Call Joel weak-willed the way he let Scott's pathetic eyes win anyway. As long as she doesn't go crazy and blow everything up, he supposes he can put up with a mildly freaky pet.
—————
There is a hole in the ceiling, and Joel is going to skin Scott's bloody pet alive.
"It's really not that bad! We can find some planks to cover the hole, or you can move in with me in my house. We have lots of living space, Joel."
The stupid magical pony, as it turns out, needs her own home to live in when she's not running around blowing things up. After a lot of negotiating and arguing, Scott managed to convince him to let her have their third (and final) empty cabin, with the promise that "sweet little Binky" won't cause any trouble to the brunette.
In hindsight, Joel should have known that man was lying through his teeth.
The first two weeks had been fine, mostly because his teal-haired neighbor whatever barely left the horse's side, taking such good care of her that he almost felt the urge to applause the other man's dedication. Unfortunately, as soon as Scott deemed Binky stable (haha) enough to be let outside, she has proven to be an explosive menace neither of them could control. Most of the time, the magical pony finds joy in dragging home progressively disturbing animals and forcing Joel to make use of them, but when she can't find anything to practice her power on, Binky resorts to frying the most eye-catching thing in sight.
It's only his roof today, but Joel has a feeling it will be his turn eventually. For some reason, Scott still has faith he can train the little devil out of damaging their own shelter, as if that bite-sized horse doesn't wake up every morning and consciously chooses violence over anything more productive or helpful.
"I'm not moving in with you, Scott! What kind of suggestion is that?!" If the man is offended by how intensely Joel is against the mere thought of sharing the same four walls with him, he does a good job of hiding it. "Go find the materials to fix my roof right now, it's your fault the stupid pony blew up my cabin!"
"Alright, just give us a second. Me and Binky will have everything fixed before you're done fishing for today."
Scott leads his little nightmare into the woods, humming a melody Joel has heard maybe twice before his internet went down for good. As he grabs the rod and his trusty bucket, the brunette finds himself drumming along to an old favorite song of his as well, its rhythm coming back bits by bits on his short trip to the dock.
It really has been a while since he last did something musical, Joel realizes.
He doesn't stop tapping his fingers until the last fish is caught. Maybe the lake can sense his kind-of-good mood too, because she gives them a bunch of themed mutant creatures today, some looking like badly-drawn music notes and others failed attempts to recreate instruments.
Joel doesn't know how, or why, these things should imitate anything other than actual, normal fish, but he will accept them for her sake. She's probably learning too, in that strange and quirky way only potentially sentient bodies of water could.
—————
His horrible, terrible, no good, very bad teal-haired moron did not make it back in time with the wood necessary to fix that hole in his roof.
On an unrelated note, Joel is now sleeping in Scott's living room, the spare mattress and massive pile of blankets meticulously arranged to hopefully ease any discomfort that comes with this involuntary sleepover.
Same as every other thing in the brunette's life after the world ended, it doesn't work.
He has been staring at nothing for way too long now, and if Joel doesn't fall asleep soon, he might just be able to name all the nails on Scott's ceiling by tomorrow morning. Not an ideal first night sharing with a temporary housemate, that's for sure. What else could he possibly do to alleviate his boredom and go to dreamland, though? Go bother the only living human Joel still knows at this point?
As if that idiot's company will help. After all, Scott's magic horse was why they ended up in this horrible arrangement in the first place.
"You're still awake?"
Oh screw him. Who would have guessed it's not just Joel who can't maintain a healthy sleep schedule? The other man doesn't even wait for a response, just invites himself in and plops down right next to where Joel is. For once, Scott doesn't seem like he's mentally ready to take on the world, but rather a normal guy staying up past his bedtime because he's hosting a sleepover with his best friend. They are neither buddies nor sharing this cabin of their own volition, but the point stands well enough that his tired brain can let it go for now.
"Yeah, what about it? I thought you were supposed to get your beauty sleep in or something, not that it's helping your face."
Scott either doesn't notice the jab, kinda) dozing off as he is, or simply thinks they're both above a half-conscious argument for now. Whatever the case is, it keeps his drowsy voice light.
"We're having a sleepover, Joel, I can't rest without gossiping about boys with my friends."
Singular friend, more like it. If they even count as that.
"I'm not talking about boys with you. I don't even like boys, for God's sake."
"You don't? Good to know."
Prior to the end of the world, they weren't quite on speaking terms with each other, so Scott didn't know much about his cabinmate beyond some basic information. They were fine with bickering over minor inconveniences at work then, but seeing how he only has Joel and a weird genetically modified horse thing for company, Scott would like to try exchanging more than snarky remarks with this guy.
If he's lucky enough, they might even start a friendship before this world collapses into itself or something.
"I do like men that way. Doesn't exactly matter anymore, I suppose."
There are only two of them in this area, and Joel for sure isn't interested.
He does think about it though.
Ever since his old coworker mysteriously appeared a few months ago, he hasn't seen another trace of other survivors in the woods. The lake provides him with everything he needs to, maybe not literally, thrive, so he doesn't even have to think about gathering supplies outside. Neither men can figure out why or how she accomplishes such a feat, and at this point, they're not worried enough to ask anymore. It's free food, free shelter, and some sort of natural barrier keeping the apocalypse from reaching them, what more could they possibly wish for?
Better company, for sure.
"I'm actually married," Was. "She's like, the coolest person ever, also a bit crazy but I'm into that so it's fine."
Without really thinking about it, Joel is talking about Lizzie. He's not sure why, but it's somehow the least offensive topic he's able to come up with around Scott, since the weather is the same almost every day and neither enjoy fishing beyond the basic "feeding themselves". The other man doesn't seem to mind, only moving to drag a corner of his blanket over and make himself comfortable, so he just goes on and on about his awesome wife. It's surprisingly fun to recount that one time younger Lizzie made Jimmy jump out the window to test her plastic fairy wings, and because his one-man audience hasn't heard this story yet, he can't find any plot holes in the silly, whimsical story. Even if Scott somehow does, Joel bets it will be easy to gaslight this guy when his brain is all fuzzy.
Manipulation is only okay if he says it is, by the way.
Eventually, he runs out of fun little facts to share, and more recent memories come rushing back, tumbling out of his mouth before Joel can think too hard about them.
"—And she just went 'oh it's fine Joel, you can go out with your Bad Boys'. I don't know if I'm upset because she could have been alive if she'd come here or because I wasn't there to face the end with her."
Had Joel chosen to stay behind, he would probably be long dead by now. The thought should be more disturbing than it is.
Now that he has time to reflect, Scott isn't even sure how he has managed to get through that first month despite being injured and constantly threatened by anything that moved (which, strangely enough, now include packaged seaweed). His old teammate and partner, Martyn, wasn't so blessed, caught in the crossfire of some turf war thing trying to bring fresh bandages back. The task itself he succeeded, as Scott found the half-used med kit in Martyn's bag shortly before taking care of what's left of the blond, but that loss still left several scars, both mentally and otherwise, on him.
Finding this lakeside cabin, along with another survivor, has saved Scott in more ways than he can put into words. He looks into Joel's eyes and wonders if the other man knows.
Probably not, seeing as this is their first ever attempt at a heart-to-heart conversation.
"I think she doesn't mind, Joel. Maybe losing her life in an apocalypse isn't the ending Lizzie would have wanted, but she's spared the struggle to hang on."
Even though he has never so much as spoken to the lady before, something tells Scott that she would be nodding her head to his words right now. Her husband, no matter how accidentally, is still kicking, and he's somehow socializing with an old rival instead of drowning in grief alone in a dusty cabin. Lizzie, very proud indeed.
"Your optimism is a little disgusting," Joel mumbles, but he doesn't mean it. He hasn't really meant to insult Scott in a while, only when he's being exceptionally stupid. Somehow, the freak unicorn Incident doesn't come to his mind right away, if only because that horrendous hole didn't kill him in the morning and the subsequential sleepover turns out to be... not bad.
Joel still wouldn't rate it a 10/10 or anything, but neither of them has broken a bone yet so it's fine. Besides, Scott obviously feels secure enough around his fellow survivor to doze off again.
A smile tugs at his lips. The brunette bites it down and turns away.
The other man will wake up tomorrow complaining about his back hurting, but that's none of Joel's business. It's not even close to his fault that Scott decided to come out here to bother him and then fall asleep on the floor. They aren't quite friendly enough for him to worry about that yet. At most, Joel will just... accidentally drop a spare blanket on his body while tossing and turning in this stupid pile of fabric.
Or something along that line.
Maybe.
It's not often that he gets this far into forming a plan, not since Scott randomly crashed the solo party he was having with the lake and her artistically disastrous offerings. It's not that Joel would like their lives to get complicated enough for that particular skill to be essential, of course, he's just so sick of that stupid sparkling horse and its explosive personality.