A treehouse? Well, Joel can just imagine how stoked she'd be by that, though that hardly seems at all important to him right now. He just wants to see her. Make sure she's alright, ask questions later. And he's got a million of those.

"No shit," comes his tired reply. No shit there's a lot to tell him, and as he falls into step behind her, he finds himself gazing at the back of her, dumbfounded by the fact that she's alive.

This has gotta be some kind of messed up dream, right? Maybe he's concussed from those fucking Fireflies knocking him unconscious. Whatever the hell's happened, he sure ain't in Kansas anymore.

"Well, how about you start by tellin' me where the hell we are."