Shifting Tides

The ride back to Jackson was surprisingly easy, the morning sun warming their backs as they made their way through terrain that seemed less threatening in daylight. Arthur rode slightly ahead, constantly scanning for threats, though his posture was more relaxed than Ellie had ever seen it. Occasionally, he would glance back at her, a hint of a smile playing at his lips—a private acknowledgment of what had transpired between them the night before.

For her part, Ellie felt different—lighter somehow, despite the persistent ache in her leg. The weight she'd carried since Salt Lake City, since Riley, since forever, seemed temporarily lifted. She caught herself watching Arthur's broad shoulders, remembering the feel of them beneath her hands, and quickly looked away when he turned and caught her staring.

"What?" he asked, slowing his horse to ride beside her.

"Nothing," she replied, a flush creeping up her neck. "Just thinking."

"About?" His voice had a new quality to it—more direct, confident.

Ellie raised an eyebrow. "You know what about."

A slow smile spread across Arthur's face, transforming his usually serious features. "I do," he agreed, his eyes holding hers with an intensity that made her breath catch. "I was thinking about it too."

They rode in companionable silence for a while, the walls of Jackson gradually appearing on the horizon. As they approached, Arthur's expression grew more guarded, the mask of vigilance sliding back into place.

"How do we play this?" Ellie asked quietly as they neared the gates.

Arthur considered the question. "Carefully," he replied. "Joel has enough to worry about without..." He trailed off, not needing to complete the thought.

"Right," Ellie agreed, though a part of her rebelled against the secrecy. Haven't we earned some happiness? she thought.

The gates opened at their approach, revealing Joel and Tommy waiting just inside, concern etched on both their faces. Arthur straightened in his saddle, reverting to his stoic demeanor with practiced ease.

"You're late," Joel called as they rode in, his relief evident despite the gruff words.

"Got held up," Arthur replied neutrally. "City's overrun with infected. Had to shelter for the night."

Tommy helped Ellie dismount, his eyes narrowing at the fresh blood on her bandage. "Doc's going to love this," he muttered. "You two look like you went ten rounds with a bloater."

"Not quite that bad," Ellie said, carefully avoiding Joel's scrutinizing gaze. "But the eastern route is compromised. We'll need to find alternatives for the supply runs."

Joel approached, checking them both over with the experienced eye of someone who'd survived decades in the wild. "Arthur's side opened up again," he observed. "And your leg doesn't look much better."

"We managed," Arthur replied, his tone giving nothing away. "Cache supplies are intact. Even found your guitar strings."

This last bit he added with just enough casual indifference that Ellie had to suppress a smile. She watched as Arthur handed the strings to Joel, the simple exchange between father and son loaded with unspoken significance.

"Thanks," Joel said, pocketing the strings. His eyes moved between them, something unreadable in his expression. "Doc's waiting at the clinic. He wasn't happy when the radio call came in."

As they made their way through Jackson, Ellie was acutely aware of Arthur beside her, their bodies maintaining a careful distance that felt unnatural after the intimacy they'd shared. Residents nodded greetings, but Ellie noticed the curious glances, the whispered conversations that paused as they passed. Word of their overnight absence had clearly spread.

At the clinic, Doc Matthews was furious.

"One day," he fumed, examining Ellie's reopened wound. "I said one day. And what do you do? Tear open your stitches, spend a night in infected territory, and come back looking worse than when you left!"

"It's not that bad," Ellie protested weakly.

"Not that bad?" The doctor's eyebrows shot up. "You're lucky these didn't get infected. Both of you!" He glared at Arthur, who sat shirtless on an adjacent examination table, fresh sutures closing his side wound.

"Won't happen again," Arthur said calmly, his stoicism only irritating the doctor further.

"Damn right it won't," Doc Matthews muttered. "Because neither of you is leaving Jackson until I personally clear you. That's a direct order from Maria, before you get any ideas."

Joel and Tommy exchanged amused glances at the doctor's vehemence. When the examinations were complete and fresh bandages applied, Doc Matthews prescribed strict rest for both of them, making it clear that his patience had worn dangerously thin.

Outside the clinic, Tommy excused himself for patrol duties, leaving Joel alone with Ellie and Arthur. An awkward silence fell, broken finally by Joel.

"So," he began, his tone carefully casual, "anything interesting happen out there, besides the infected?"

Ellie tensed slightly, but Arthur answered with perfect composure.

"Found a music store. Well-preserved. Might be worth a dedicated scavenging run when the infected thin out."

Joel nodded, apparently satisfied with this answer. "Glad you both made it back in one piece." He turned to leave, then paused, looking back at Arthur. "Walk with me a minute? Need to discuss something."

Arthur glanced at Ellie briefly, then nodded. "Sure. See you later," he added to Ellie, his tone neutral though his eyes conveyed something more.

"Yeah, later," she replied, watching as they walked away, an unfamiliar unease settling in her stomach.

Joel waited until they were out of earshot before speaking, leading Arthur toward the eastern wall where repairs were still underway following the horde attack.

"You're good with her," he said finally, the statement catching Arthur off guard.

"Ellie? She can handle herself," Arthur replied carefully.

Joel chuckled, a low, knowing sound. "That's not what I meant."

Arthur kept his expression neutral, though his pulse quickened slightly. "What did you mean?"

"I've known that girl for years," Joel said, stopping to observe the repair work. "Seen her through her worst times, her best times. I know when something's changed." He turned to face Arthur directly. "Or when someone has changed her."

Arthur held his father's gaze, recognizing the challenge there. "We've been through a lot recently. The horde, the patrol. Changes people."

"Sure does," Joel agreed, his tone making it clear he wasn't convinced. "Just remember something. That girl—she's been through more than most. Lost more than most. She deserves better than to be another casualty of this world."

The warning was unmistakable, father to son, wrapped in concern for someone they both cared about.

"I know what she's worth," Arthur replied, his voice low but firm. "Better than most."

Joel studied him for a long moment, then nodded once, apparently satisfied with what he saw. "Good. That's good." He changed topics abruptly. "Tommy and I are putting together a scouting party. Need to know more about these Fireflies who controlled the horde. If there are more of them out there, we need to be prepared."

Arthur recognized the peace offering in the subject change. "Count me in."

"Doc will have something to say about that," Joel pointed out.

"Doc doesn't need to know," Arthur countered, the ghost of a smile touching his lips.

Joel's expression softened slightly, a flash of recognition passing between them—the same stubborn disregard for medical advice, the same determination to protect what mattered, no matter the personal cost.

"We leave at dawn tomorrow," Joel said. "Small group—you, me, Tommy, Jesse. Quick recon, that's all. No engagement unless absolutely necessary."

Arthur nodded, understanding the real mission beneath the stated one—this was Joel's way of gathering intelligence to protect Jackson, to protect Ellie.

"I'll be ready," he promised.

Joel clapped him once on the shoulder, a gesture that was becoming more natural between them, before heading back toward the center of town. Arthur remained by the wall, watching the repair work and processing the conversation.

Joel knew something had changed between him and Ellie—maybe not the full extent, but enough to issue a warning. Arthur couldn't blame him. In Joel's position, he would have done the same, perhaps with less restraint.

He was so lost in thought that he didn't notice Tommy approaching until the man spoke.

"Joel give you the speech?" Tommy asked, amusement evident in his voice.

Arthur glanced at him. "Something like that."

Tommy shook his head, smiling slightly. "Protective as hell, always has been. Even before the outbreak." He surveyed the wall repairs for a moment before continuing. "She's good for you, you know. Brings out something different."

"Is it that obvious?" Arthur asked, resigned.

"To someone who's known Joel as long as I have? Yeah." Tommy's expression grew more serious. "Look, what you two do is your business. But in a community this small, secrets don't stay secret for long. Just be prepared for that."

Arthur nodded, appreciating Tommy's straightforward approach. "The scouting mission tomorrow—what are we really looking for?"

Tommy sighed, lowering his voice. "Got word from a trader passing through. WLF activity has increased near the old Firefly outposts. And that woman you let live—Abby? She's reportedly linked up with them."

A cold weight settled in Arthur's stomach. "She's coming back."

"Maybe," Tommy acknowledged. "Maybe not. But better we know for sure."

Arthur's mind raced with implications. If Abby had joined forces with the WLF—a militaristic group with resources and manpower—and was allying with rogue Fireflies seeking revenge, Jackson faced a threat far greater than a horde of infected.

"Joel know about this?" he asked.

"Enough," Tommy replied. "Not about Abby specifically. Thought you should know since you're the one who spared her."

The implied criticism wasn't lost on Arthur, but he let it pass. "Tomorrow, then."

Tommy nodded and walked away, leaving Arthur with his thoughts. The prospect of another threat to Jackson—to Ellie, to the life he was just beginning to build—stirred something protective and fierce inside him. He would not allow enemies from his past to endanger this fragile peace. Not again.

Ellie found Dina at the stables, brushing down horses with more force than necessary. She hesitated in the doorway, suddenly uncertain of her welcome. Their friendship had been strained since the dance, since the kiss that had complicated everything.

"Hey," she called softly.

Dina looked up, her expression unreadable. "So you're back. In one piece, more or less."

"Yeah," Ellie replied, stepping into the stable. "Sorry about leaving you off the patrol. Your shoulder—"

"Is fine," Dina cut her off. "Could have managed."

The tension between them was palpable, hanging in the air like a physical presence. Ellie moved closer, leaning against a stall door.

"It was a tough run," she offered. "City's overrun."

Dina continued brushing the horse, her movements sharp and agitated. "I heard. Also heard you two didn't make it back last night."

There it was—the real source of tension. Ellie took a breath, searching for the right words. "We got pinned down. Had to wait out the infected."

"Uh-huh." Dina's skepticism was evident. "That all that happened?"

"What are you asking, Dina?" Ellie challenged, her patience wearing thin.

Dina finally stopped brushing, turning to face Ellie directly. "You and Arthur. Is that a thing now?"

The directness of the question caught Ellie off guard. She hesitated, unsure how to respond.

"It is, isn't it?" Dina pressed, her voice rising slightly. "Jesus, Ellie. You barely know him! He shows up out of nowhere, claims to be Joel's son, and suddenly you're—what? Sleeping with him?"

"That's not fair," Ellie protested, heat rising to her cheeks. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't I?" Dina stepped closer, her dark eyes flashing with hurt and anger. "What about the dance? What about that kiss? Did that mean nothing to you?"

"You're the one who acted like it was nothing!" Ellie shot back. "You kissed me in front of everyone, then went right back to flirting with Jesse like it never happened!"

"I was confused!" Dina exclaimed. "I needed time to figure things out!"

"Well, so did I!" Ellie retorted, her own anger flaring. "But you don't get to kiss me once and then act like you have some claim on me!"

Dina flinched as if struck, then her expression hardened. "So what was I? Just a placeholder until someone better came along?" She laughed bitterly. "And Arthur's better? The guy who hunted Joel for years? Whose Firefly friends just tried to destroy Jackson?"

"That's not who he is," Ellie defended, her voice fierce. "You don't know him."

"And you do? After what, a couple weeks?" Dina stepped even closer, their faces inches apart. "Or was one night all it took?"

The implied accusation stung, all the more because Ellie couldn't deny it—one night had changed everything between her and Arthur. But it wasn't just physical; it was the understanding they shared, the way he saw her—not as a cure, not as someone to be protected, but as an equal.

"You don't get to judge me," Ellie said, her voice low and tight. "Or him."

"Watch me," Dina replied, suddenly shoving Ellie backward.

Unprepared for the physical confrontation, Ellie stumbled, her injured leg buckling beneath her. Pain shot up her thigh as she fell awkwardly against a support beam, reopening the wound that had barely begun to heal.

"Shit—Ellie—" Dina's anger immediately transformed to horror as blood began to spread across Ellie's bandage. She reached forward to help, but Ellie slapped her hand away.

"Don't," Ellie warned, pain and anger sharpening her voice.

"What the hell is going on?"

Both women turned to see Arthur standing in the stable doorway, his expression dark as he took in the scene—Ellie injured, Dina standing over her, the palpable tension in the air.

"Nothing," Dina said quickly, backing away. "Just a disagreement."

Arthur moved to Ellie's side, ignoring Dina completely as he assessed the reopened wound. "You're bleeding again," he observed, his voice controlled but tight with anger.

"I'm fine," Ellie insisted, though the pain in her leg suggested otherwise.

"No, you're not," Arthur replied firmly. Without hesitation, he slipped an arm around her waist, supporting her weight. "Let's get you back to Doc."

"Arthur—" Ellie began, but he cut her off with a look that brooked no argument.

As he helped her toward the door, Arthur paused, turning back to Dina. The cold fury in his eyes made her take an involuntary step backward.

"If you have a problem with me, take it up with me," he said, his voice dangerously quiet. "But if you ever hurt her again, you and I will have issues that won't be solved with a shove."

Dina's face flushed with anger and shame. "You don't get to threaten me. You're not one of us—you're just passing through until you get bored or find another mission. Then you'll leave her, just like everyone else."

Arthur's expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes—a resolve, a certainty. "I'm not going anywhere," he stated, the simple declaration carrying more weight than any argument could have.

He turned away, guiding Ellie out of the stables and toward the clinic, leaving Dina standing alone among the horses.

Once they were out of earshot, Ellie spoke. "You didn't have to do that."

"Yes, I did," Arthur replied, his grip on her waist gentle but secure. "And I'll do it again if necessary."

There was a new quality to his voice—not just protectiveness, but possessiveness. It should have bothered her; Ellie had spent her life fighting against being controlled, being treated like something fragile. But this felt different. Arthur wasn't trying to cage her; he was standing with her.

"She's jealous," Ellie explained as they walked slowly through Jackson's streets. "About us."

"I gathered that," Arthur replied dryly. "What exactly did you tell her?"

"Nothing," Ellie admitted. "She guessed. About us not coming back last night."

Arthur nodded, considering this. "Joel knows too. Or suspects, at least."

Ellie felt a twinge of anxiety. "What did he say?"

"Essentially warned me not to hurt you," Arthur summarized, a hint of dark humor in his voice. "Typical father stuff, I imagine."

Despite the pain in her leg, Ellie smiled slightly. "And what did you tell him?"

Arthur glanced down at her, his expression softening. "I told him I know what you're worth."

The simple statement sent warmth spreading through Ellie's chest. Before she could respond, Arthur continued, his tone shifting to something more serious.

"There's something else. Tommy's organized a scouting mission for tomorrow. Me, Joel, Jesse. Looking into those Fireflies who controlled the horde, but also..." He hesitated. "There's word that Abby and the WLF might be planning something bigger. A retaliation."

Ellie tensed beside him. "The woman who tried to kill Joel? From the WLF?"

Arthur nodded grimly. "The one I let live."

"Shit," Ellie muttered. "Do we know for sure?"

"That's what we're going to find out," Arthur replied. "I wanted you to know."

"I'm coming with you," Ellie stated immediately.

Arthur stopped walking, turning to face her fully. "No, you're not. Your leg—"

"Is fine," Ellie interrupted, her stubborn streak flaring. "If Abby's planning something against Jackson, against Joel, I need to be there."

"Ellie—"

"Don't 'Ellie' me," she cut him off, green eyes flashing. "I'm not staying behind while you and Joel put yourselves in danger. Not happening."

Arthur's expression hardened, a resolve in his eyes that hadn't been there before. "Yes, you are," he said firmly. "This isn't up for debate. You can barely walk, and where we're going, we might need to move fast."

"So I'll keep up," Ellie argued, her temper rising. "I always do."

"Not this time," Arthur replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Joel and Tommy already decided. You're staying in Jackson until that leg heals."

Ellie's face flushed with anger. "Since when do you take orders from Joel? Or make decisions for me?"

"Since your safety became important to me," Arthur countered, not backing down. "This isn't about control, Ellie. It's about not watching you get killed because you're too stubborn to admit when you're compromised."

"Fuck you," Ellie spat, pulling away from his support. "I've survived worse than this. I don't need you or Joel or anyone deciding what I can handle!"

The flash of hurt in Arthur's eyes was quickly masked, but Ellie saw it. A part of her wanted to take back the words, to explain that her anger wasn't really directed at him but at the situation, at her own helplessness. But her pride held her tongue.

"Maybe not," Arthur said quietly. "But this time, you're staying. Even if you hate me for it."

The statement, delivered without anger but with absolute certainty, knocked some of the wind from Ellie's sails. She stared at him, conflicted between fury at being sidelined and a reluctant understanding of his reasoning.

"I don't hate you," she finally muttered, looking away. "I just don't like being treated like I'm made of glass."

"No one thinks that," Arthur assured her, his tone softening slightly. "But even the strongest fighters know when to step back." He reached out, gently tilting her chin up to meet his gaze. "Next time, we go together. But only when you can run if you need to."

Ellie wanted to argue further, but the logic was sound, however much she hated to admit it. With her leg in its current state, she'd be a liability, not an asset.

"Fine," she conceded grudgingly. "But you better come back in one piece. All of you."

Arthur's expression relaxed slightly, relief evident in his eyes. "That's the plan."

As they neared the clinic, Ellie found herself studying Arthur's profile—the strong jawline, the watchful eyes, the tension that never fully left his shoulders. Something had shifted in him since last night. He seemed more certain, more assertive, as if their intimacy had unlocked something that had been restrained.

"You're different today," she observed.

Arthur glanced at her, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "How so?"

"More... I don't know. Direct. Bold." Ellie struggled to put the change into words. "Less like you're walking on eggshells around me."

Arthur considered this as they reached the clinic steps. "Maybe I realized I don't need to hold back with you," he said finally. "That you're stronger than anyone I've ever met, and treating you like you might break is an insult."

The assessment left Ellie momentarily speechless. Before she could respond, the clinic door opened, revealing an irritated Doc Matthews.

"What now?" he demanded, taking in Ellie's bloodied bandage with exasperation. "It's been less than three hours since I last patched you up!"

"Small accident," Arthur explained smoothly. "Slipped on some wet ground by the stables."

The doctor muttered under his breath as he ushered them inside, clearly not believing the explanation but too tired to argue. As he led Ellie to an examination table, Arthur caught her eye, a silent understanding passing between them. Despite their disagreement about the scouting mission, the connection forged between them remained intact—complex, challenging, but real.

It was a new kind of partnership for both of them, forged in unexpected circumstances but growing stronger with each challenge. And with threats gathering on the horizon—Abby, the WLF, rogue Fireflies seeking revenge—they would need every bit of that strength in the days to come.

Joel watched from his porch as Ellie and Arthur emerged from the clinic, their heads bent close in conversation. Even from this distance, he could see the change in their body language—the casual way Arthur's hand brushed against Ellie's as they walked, the lack of space between them, the synchronization of their movements.

He'd seen it before, of course. With Tommy and Maria in the early days. With couples who formed among the Jackson residents. The unmistakable signs of two people who had crossed a line from friendship into something more intimate.

Part of him wanted to intervene, to protect Ellie from potential hurt, to question Arthur's intentions. But another part—the part that had watched Ellie grow from a defiant teenager into a capable young woman—recognized that such intervention would only push her away further.

Tommy stepped onto the porch, following Joel's gaze. "Thinking about tomorrow's scout?" he asked, though his knowing tone suggested he understood exactly what Joel was really contemplating.

"Among other things," Joel replied noncommittally.

Tommy leaned against the railing, silent for a moment before speaking. "You know, it's not the worst thing that could happen."

"What's that?" Joel asked, though he knew.

"Them," Tommy gestured toward the pair now disappearing around a corner. "Arthur's a good man, despite everything. And Ellie... she deserves something good in this world."

Joel sighed, running a hand through his graying hair. "It's complicated."

"When isn't it?" Tommy countered with a short laugh. "World ended, but people still find ways to connect. Maybe that's the point of all this—finding reasons to keep going, people worth fighting for."

Joel considered his brother's words, recognizing the wisdom in them. He'd destroyed the Fireflies' chance at a cure to save Ellie, choosing love over humanity's future. Who was he to stand in the way of her finding her own connections, her own reasons to survive in this broken world?

"You're getting philosophical in your old age, Tommy," he said finally, a hint of humor in his voice.

Tommy snorted. "Someone in this family has to think beyond the next fight."

They stood in companionable silence, watching as the sun began its descent toward the western mountains. Tomorrow would bring new dangers, new challenges to the fragile peace they'd built. But for tonight, Jackson was safe, its walls secure, its people—including the small, unconventional family Joel had pieced together from the ruins of the world—still alive, still fighting.

"You think they're coming, don't you?" Joel asked eventually. "Abby and her people."

Tommy's expression grew grave. "I think she never stopped looking. And now they have more reason than ever to find us."

"Especially after what happened to her friends," Joel added, his voice hardening. "The WLF isn't known for letting things go."

Joel nodded, a cold certainty settling in his gut. "Then we'd better be ready when they do."

In the gathering twilight, Jackson continued its evening routines—watch rotations, communal dinners, children being called home, lights flickering on in windows. Normal life, or as normal as could exist twenty years after the world collapsed.

But beneath this tranquil surface, preparations were already underway—weapons being checked, routes planned, intelligence gathered. Tomorrow's scouting mission was just the beginning. A storm was coming, and those who had survived this long knew better than to be caught unprepared.

As darkness fell completely, Joel's thoughts turned to Arthur and Ellie, to the complicated web of loyalty, love, and protection that bound them all together. Whatever threats approached from beyond Jackson's walls, they would face them as they had faced everything else—together, fighting not just for survival, but for the chance to build something worth surviving for.