He's aimlessly pacing away, a hand anxiously rubbing over his beard and his lips and then pushing into his hair. What the fuck is Ellie talking about, Tess being here? And Sarah? The pleading conviction in the girl's voice is starting to scare him.
Jesus, it was only an hour ago - more? less? he's lost track of all time, he wouldn't have a fucking clue how long ago, not really - that Joel was dragging Ellie's lifeless body from out of the water. Don't do this to me, had been ringing like white noise in his head while he gasped and desperately began applying CPR. Don't do this to me, don't you fucking do this to me.
And it was even less time ago than that, that he was pinning that asshole, Ethan against the hospital wall, gun digging into his stomach, demanding to know where Ellie was. His head had been pounding from where he'd been struck across the head with the gun while trying to resuscitate Ellie; his stomach had been clawing in terrified knots that he was going to be too late, that Ellie was going to die - but he'd remained calm, cold, ruthless. And then, he'd been scurrying through the hospital, ducking behind counters, jumping through broken windows, hiding behind walls, killing whoever got in his path of him trying to find wherever they'd taken her to be prepped for surgery. That tape recorder he'd come across of a surgeon saying there'd already been twelve previous test subjects, all of them dead.
And now-- now this. He turns on Ellie as she's exclaiming about being worried about him, and he bellows over the top of her, "And you think I haven't been worried sick, too? About you?"
And now this business with Sarah, and with Tess--
"What the hell am I s'posed to think, you tellin' me things like that? That Tess and-and Sarah--"
His voice suddenly breaks on the second syllable of his baby girl's name, and he paces away from her a few steps with angered anguish. "Jesus fuckin' Christ, Ellie."
no subject
Jesus, it was only an hour ago - more? less? he's lost track of all time, he wouldn't have a fucking clue how long ago, not really - that Joel was dragging Ellie's lifeless body from out of the water. Don't do this to me, had been ringing like white noise in his head while he gasped and desperately began applying CPR. Don't do this to me, don't you fucking do this to me.
And it was even less time ago than that, that he was pinning that asshole, Ethan against the hospital wall, gun digging into his stomach, demanding to know where Ellie was. His head had been pounding from where he'd been struck across the head with the gun while trying to resuscitate Ellie; his stomach had been clawing in terrified knots that he was going to be too late, that Ellie was going to die - but he'd remained calm, cold, ruthless. And then, he'd been scurrying through the hospital, ducking behind counters, jumping through broken windows, hiding behind walls, killing whoever got in his path of him trying to find wherever they'd taken her to be prepped for surgery. That tape recorder he'd come across of a surgeon saying there'd already been twelve previous test subjects, all of them dead.
And now-- now this. He turns on Ellie as she's exclaiming about being worried about him, and he bellows over the top of her, "And you think I haven't been worried sick, too? About you?"
And now this business with Sarah, and with Tess--
"What the hell am I s'posed to think, you tellin' me things like that? That Tess and-and Sarah--"
His voice suddenly breaks on the second syllable of his baby girl's name, and he paces away from her a few steps with angered anguish. "Jesus fuckin' Christ, Ellie."