braids
Ellie
Truth be told, Ellie did feel a little guilty for yelling at Quinn. Ellie knows that what she said wasn’t entirely true either, because she knows that Quinn can handle herself and Ellie definitely was appreciative of Quinn’s company. Quinn has saved Ellie’s ass plenty of times. However, the stopping-and-going was frustrating and the anxiety to stop Abby before the situation could get worse was pushing Ellie to the edge, causing her to lash out.
Ellie walks toward the back of the house, gripping her bow and arrow as the wind whips her hair into a frenzy. Great. Just what Ellie needed: wind.
She heads into the trees that lined the edge of the back of the house’s property, praying she could just find something quick and easy. She creeps along into the forest, careful to stay quiet and tune her ears to any movement. She hears something scurrying and looks up, eyeing a squirrel racing along the branches. She loads an arrow and pulls, following it to where it eventually stops, twitching its nose. She waits for a brief lull in the wind before she slowly breathes out and releases the arrow–-damn. It missed.
She continues stalking through the woods after successfully scaring the squirrel away, scanning the area for any hint of small game. Luckily the woods were not full, so she could see through them pretty clearly. She spies a rabbit on the ground after her eyes almost skip right past it and takes a knee, taking aim. She forces herself to steady her hands, take a deep breath, and…
Bingo.
She walks over to it, grabs it, then exits the woods. She was grinning to herself; luck was really on her side because usually she’s gone for a solid hour. Something out of the corner of her eye catches her attention, and she turns, already drawing another arrow. She then sees the buck and completely freezes. She blinks several times, willing away any memories but it’s too late. She’s seeing him, the cage, the familiar fear taking a hold of her throat. She’s not sure why, of all the times she’s seen a buck, why today. She puts a hand to her chest and feels the familiar panic set in, pressing on her ribcage.
She runs, forgetting the rabbit, sprinting to the house that has become blurry with the tears in her eyes. She is practically gulping for air, feeling as if she can’t get in enough oxygen to her lungs. She bursts through the door and falls to the floor, her knees weak and trembling, causing Quinn to jump and run from wherever she was, gun at the ready. She sees Ellie on the floor and immediately runs to her, kneeling to her level.
Ellie’s vision was darkening along the edges and all she could feel was fear; she wasn’t safe; his hand grazing hers; the eerie hungry look in his eyes–-
“Hey, hey,” she hears Quinn say, cupping Ellie’s cheeks and tilting her head, forcing Ellie to look into Quinn’s eyes. “Listen to me. Breathe. What are five things you can see?”
Ellie’s eyes were darting around, but she couldn’t speak, her arms shaking violently, her throat unable to produce sound. Quinn kept instructing her to breathe, to follow her breathing patterns. In and out. In…and out…
Quinn repeats the question, and this time Ellie can answer.
“I see your eyes, your nose, your hair,” Ellie starts, noting the easy things first. She looks around. “I see the gray walls and the light hanging on the ceiling.”
“Good. Four things you can feel?”
Ellie shuts her eyes, doing everything in her willpower to focus on the task at hand. “I feel my knees on the ground, and your hands on my face, and the wind from the door, and the fabric of my jacket sleeves on my wrist.” Ellie feels more sure of herself now, the panic subsiding. She opens her eyes to reveal Quinn staring at her with gentle concern. She seems to recognize Ellie’s recovery, and she takes her hands away from Ellie’s face.
“Are you better now?” Quinn whispers. Ellie swallows and nods, looking around the room, feeling embarrassed as always. She can feel her hands again and her heart rate slows. She manages to get up, Quinn getting up with her, and they stand in silence. Quinn closes and locks the door, hooking her elbow around Ellie’s arm.
“I left the rabbit,” Ellie croaks, and Quinn quietly laughs.
“It’s okay,” she says gently. They walk to the living room, where Quinn guides Ellie to the couch, making her sit. “We have food, don’t worry.”
Quinn kneels in front of Ellie, who wasn’t really looking at Quinn but more looking past her, trying to recollect her thoughts. She still felt shaky, but her hearing wasn’t as muffled and her vision not so blurry. Ellie avoids Quinn’s observant eyes, feeling silly that she’s had to come to her rescue for these “episodes”. She sees Quinn tilt her head to the side, a small smile on her lips.
“Can I braid your hair?”
Ellie blinks at the request, meeting Quinn’s eyes, then smiles and nods. She touches her short hair.
“I mean, you can try.”
Quinn gets up, instructing Ellie to swap positions so Ellie is on the ground and Quinn is on the couch, Ellie sitting between Quinn’s legs. Ellie feels self-conscious about her hair as Quinn brushes her fingers through it.
“God, it’s probably so disgusting,” Ellie groans. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”
Quinn giggles. “It’s actually not as bad as you think. Pretty soft,” she murmurs, causing shivers down Ellie’s spine. She feels Quinn’s fingers separate sections, pulling tight but not too uncomfortably tight. Ellie felt overwhelmed with how domestic and intimate this simple act of braiding hair was. She swallowed hard to avoid sounding on the verge of tears.
“I’m sorry,” Ellie whispers, closing her eyes. Quinn’s fingers hesitated, for a fraction of a moment, before continuing.
“It’s okay,” she sighs. Ellie wasn’t convinced.
“But I was a total dick,” Ellie mutters. Quinn stops, tilting Ellie’s face back to look into her eyes. A slight smile was on her face and Ellie returned it.
“Yes. You were. But I forgive you.” Quinn lightly taps Ellie’s nose as she says it.
Ellie’s smile imperceptibly falters but she recovers. Quinn instructs her to hold the ends of her hair while she grabs two rubber bands, which she apparently has. Because “those are very essential for apocalypses.”
She comes back and stands in front of Ellie, tying off her hair, then stands back with her hands on her hips. “You look great!”
Ellie grins, hoping Quinn doesn’t notice the blush and stands up, never noticing how much of a relief it was to have her hair pulled out of her face. Ellie watches Quinn head toward the kitchen, grabbing things from the table that she had emptied from her backpack. Some old pasta in a can that Ellie vaguely remembers sharing with Joel years ago. Ellie smiles to herself at the memory, before sliding into a stool that was against the kitchen counter where Quinn stood.
“Thank you,” Ellie says quietly, watching Quinn pop the lid of the can off. It was nearly dark outside now, and Quinn had managed to find a few candles to light for the time being. Quinn looks up, putting the can in between the two with a smile.
“Of course. I’m really happy with how it turned out,” Quinn says. Ellie realizes she’s talking about her hair, observing her handiwork. Ellie chuckles.
“I mean, thank you…for everything,” Ellie says, voice nearly whispering. Quinn’s gaze moves from Ellie’s hairline to her eyes, Quinn’s eyes softening. She reaches out and puts a hand on Ellie’s, warmth radiating up Ellie’s arm at the touch.
“Of course, Ellie.” Quinn stares at Ellie with an intensity Ellie has only seen rarely. “I’ll always be here for you.”
Ellie smiles. “Always.”