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The gates of Jackson do not open for her.
Burnt and bruised, bathed in tacky blood that isn’t her own, she stands expectantly at the mouth of the city, arms crossed over her bony chest. The patrolmen atop the tower squint at her, straining their eyes like she’s some unrecognizable stranger and not the woman they grew up with.
She feels that way, nowadays.
She is not the same Ellie who arrived here, age fourteen, clinging to the leg of the man who betrayed her trust. She is not the contrarian teenager who filled pages upon pages with turmoil over her attraction to a girl that she cannot remember the name of for the life of her.
The Ellie before them isn’t the girlfriend, the mother, the survivor who left Jackson well over two years ago.
The young man staring down at her stops, lowering his gun to his side. The rusted gates part with a grating creak. Neither says a word as she hobbles through.
Admittedly, Ellie doesn’t have a plan past this point. She assumed it would come to her once the environment hit her, all of those sounds and smells and sights that she’s gone so long without. Perhaps then her brain would execute its own plot.
But Jackson isn’t familiar. The people she passes, those who look upon her with horror and fear, they’ve aged, new lines on their faces to match their graying hair. The children she remembers entertaining and messing with are tall, their faces sharp and angular, children no longer. The chair near the tavern, usually occupied by an elderly man that Ellie cannot remember the name of, is missing from the road entirely. Jackson did not freeze in time just for Ellie; the world did not stop spinning because she willed it so as she left, picturing Dina standing in that kitchen the entire time she was off on her insignificant revenge quest that never even mattered. It was foolish of her to hope that she would still be there upon her return.
She keeps her head down, eyes on the gravel, tracing the familiar path to the Tipsy Bison from pure muscle memory. Not that she’s actually been inside for the past few years; Seth ruined that for the both of them, no matter how many times he tried to make up for it in the wake of Joel’s passing. But it’s also the only place in town where she can easily collect the information she needs, so.
The inside of the bar is still warm, and jovial, the smell of something heartily boiling on the stove reaching her at the entrance. People are chatting happily; there’s some gambling at one of the shadier tables in the back, partially obscured from Ellie’s view by a folding partition. It’s almost like nothing’s changed.
Except for the harsh silence that settles over the floor when the door shuts behind her, as if those who’ve known her for years are horrified to make a sound.
Nearly all of the stools at the counter are free, so Ellie takes one for herself, another for her gear. She doesn’t recognize the bartender. He’s as quiet as the rest of them, shuffling quietly to the corner before disappearing through the kitchen door. The patrons stay quiet.
The kitchen door opens again, drawing Ellie’s attention. She half expects it to be the bartender coming back with a shotgun. But it’s the two withered, pale hands that rest on the counter in front of her, empty of weapons, that implore her to look up.
“What are you doing here, girl?” Seth asks, the judgemental tone Ellie remembers from him all but disappearing. His brows knit together, his wrinkles pronounced, and it’s an expression that Ellie might mistake for worry if she didn’t know better.
She shugs, returning her gaze to the wooden countertop. “Could use a beer.”
“Where have you been?”
“Why do you care?”
“You’re a state,” He says apprehensively. “That your blood? Or the other guy’s?”
Sometimes, Ellie reminds herself that the people around her have lives of their own, a past before she came around. Joel always said her ego would get her in trouble.
Right now she reminds herself that Seth was a father. His children were the center of his universe, from what she’d been told, and after they were gone, he had a soft spot for other people’s kids, all kids. While she finds it difficult to believe that his worry is genuine, he’s putting on a damn good act if it’s a lie.
“And you're skinnier than a goddamn rake,” Seth continues, sliding Ellie a glass that is filled with something that is definitely not beer. “There’s stew in the back. You stay there.”
Seth disappears, and she sniffs the glass just to confirm her suspicions; it’s water. Apparently, she’s too frail for alcohol. When Seth returns, it’s with a bowl of beef stew and steaming bread on the side.
“I just need-”
“Eat. Then we’ll talk,” Seth cuts her off before giving a knowing nod to the patrons behind her. Their conversations resume, albeit cautious and wary.
Seth is renowned for his cooking in Jackson, practically forced to cater every event imaginable, from weddings to funerals to dances. And Ellie has to agree with that sentiment; the guy’s a bit of an asshole, but he can throw together a three-course meal like it’s nobody’s business. His shit is good.
But when she breaks her bread and dips it into her stew, tearing off a bite, she finds that it tastes like a whole lot of nothing. Flavorless calories that she has to force herself to choke down. Seth is staring at her from his place at the bar, though, and she knows that he’ll never give up the information she came for if she doesn’t appease him this way first.
She chews, and swallows, and chews, and swallows, and sips at her water until she feels like she’s going to burst. Seth strolls over, looks disappointedly at her bowl that’s still half-full, but passes it to the other bartender for washing regardless. He flips up the small divider that closes off the bar and takes the seat at Ellie’s right, leaving her muddied bag on the other stool.
“I need to know where Dina is.” Ellie blurts. Seth is definitely the last person she’d ask under normal circumstances, but these aren’t normal circumstances, and the only other people who would know where on Earth she's gone are either dead or hate her.
Seth shakes his head. “Don’t know.”
Ellie rolls her eyes, reaching for the bag at her side. “So you’re still a bigoted asshole.”
“Now, now, sit down.” Seth demands. “I don’t agree with how you people carry on, that’s true, but I do not have the energy to care whether you get married or have babies or what have you.”
“You know where she is.”
“Course I know where she is. You think that poor girl was gonna head out into the world with a baby on her hip after you left?” He says harshly. “It’s got nothin’ to do with the way you are, girl, I just don’t like you very much. Especially how you up and left that little boy.”
Ellie stiffens. “He’s not my little boy.”
“And she didn’t even wanna come back here, you know? Didn’t want nothin’ to do with you and Tommy. But Tommy’s been staying out of her way and you fucked off to the other side of the country, so I’d wager things are goin’ pretty well for her.” Seth says. “And she’s the best employee I’ve got these days. I’m not lettin’ you ruin her life again.”
She hates that he’s right.
Ellie’s existence is clouded in chaos, a reckoning set to demolish those she holds dear. If it’s not Riley, it’s Marlene, or Joel, or Jesse, or her. She’s not someone who’s meant to be a constant in other people’s lives, lest she drag them to the depths with her, kicking and screaming.
And yet.
When the truth came out, when she pieced things together and unearthed Joel’s dishonesty, she had convinced herself that the reason she was upset with him was that she wanted to do the selfless thing. She wanted to die in service to the greater good. Joel took away her opportunity to end her life a hero.
Except, that wasn’t true; Ellie was upset because Joel lied to her. Ellie is not a selfless person. If she were, she would be heeding Seth’s words, listening, leaving Jackson before word got back to Dina that she was here. She would leave people alone before her storm caught up to them. She would stop making them unwilling participants in her bullshit.
But she just can’t help herself.
“Now I’m not saying you’ve got to leave,” Seth starts as she stands up, swinging her pack painfully over her shoulder. “I’m saying that if you’re sticking around, you need to stay out of that girl’s way. Let her live her life.”
Ellie nods. As if she’s going to listen.
She gives Seth one final look, trying to convey a mix of “thanks for the food” and “fuck you”, before limping to the door and setting off.
The conversation inside the bar, even though Ellie’s hearing it through a closed door, becomes a thousand times more exciting.
If Seth won’t tell her where Dina lives, she’s got other methods; she could ask around, or just knock on every door in Jackson until she hits the right house.
She doesn’t have to think for long, because suddenly there’s a hand on her shoulder trying to grab her attention.
“Joel’s girl, right?” The woman before her, elderly and haggard, says brightly, some hesitance in her voice. “Gosh, what was it… Ally?”
“Ellie.” She corrects her. The woman nods.
“Ellie, right. Forgive me, sweetheart, the ol’ mind’s slipping.” She looks Ellie up and down, making no effort at subtlety. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, yeah, I’m fine.” Ellie says numbly. “Do you know where Dina’s living nowadays?”
“Dina… Dina, Dina, Dina- oh! With the little boy.” The woman turns herself and Ellie to the side, aligning with one of the side streets branching off of the main road. “You go down there until you come to Elizabeth, and then you do a right at Pine. They’re in a little blue house, she’s got it all done up with flowers. Can’t miss it.” She looks Ellie over once again, but draws no attention to the blood or the bruises. “You need anything else, honey?”
Ellie shakes her head. “No, but thank you.”
“You take care,” the woman smiles.
She should’ve known better than to take directions from a woman with shitty memory, because as it turns out, after nearly half an hour of walking in circles, she was meant to take an extra side road before the right at Pine. This is a part of town she’s familiar with, though; if she cuts through a couple of backyards, she could make it to Joel’s house in under a minute. She finally stops to catch her breath when Seth’s stew threatens to come back up.
Dina’s house is just ahead, visible to Ellie but hidden slightly by the trees in front of a nearby home. The old woman was right, the place is all flowers and children’s toys strewn across the lawn with a neatly painted porch and freshly trimmed grass. It’s homey. A better environment to raise a child in than the one she’d been accustomed to.
She climbs the steps, staining the white railing with her palms.
Seth’s words echo in the back of her mind. If she does this, if she bothers Dina, she’s inviting the love of her life back into a world of fear and uncertainty. It’s pretty black and white, right and wrong. What she’s doing is wrong. There’s nothing gray about this.
She lifts her hand and raps against the door, careful not to break her busted skin on the glass.
There’s movement inside, someone saying “I’ll get it!”, and the door swings open.
That’s… that’s Jesse. If she didn’t know better, she’d have said he’d come back from the dead to haunt her.
But he’s obviously too young, and pudgy, and he’s a few shades darker than his father.
“JJ?” Ellie freezes, barely forcing his name through her teeth. Of course he’d be here. Of course he’s grown.
“I’m not s’posed to talk to strangers.” He lisps, backing into the house.
“I’m Ellie,” she doesn’t mean to plead with a child, but god, how can he not remember her? All of those diapers changed, feedings, lullabies to help him get to sleep? “Don’t you-”
“JJ, go to your room.”
Dina’s even more beautiful than the day Ellie left.
She’s exactly the same, save for her hair being a bit longer as it hangs over her shoulders, but she’s glowing. Those rashes from where she used to scratch herself out of anxiety are gone, replaced on one arm by a tattoo of a landscape and on the other by clear, healthy skin. The bags under her eyes that Ellie thought were natural have disappeared. She even looks to gave gained a few pounds, now solid and muscular instead of scrawny.
If only Dina were happy to see her.
JJ does as Dina says, scurrying off into the house and slamming a door behind him. Dina shakes her head as she stands in the frame, denying Ellie entry.
“You’re going to leave,” Dina commands heavily, “and you’re not going to come back.”
“I didn’t kill her,” Ellie says. “She had a kid, and I didn’t kill her.”
“Do you want a medal? Is that seriously what you think this is about?” Dina rolls her eyes, astonishment on her face. “You left, Ellie! Do you know how hard it was to just, to just, start raising JJ on my own? He missed you!”
“Clearly not that much,” Ellie spats.
“You’re seriously blaming him for forgetting about you. Of course.”
“Dina-”
“You chose to leave him. He was a baby.” Dina snaps. “I wasn’t about to remind him of the mom that left.”
“I’m not his mom.” Ellie says defensively.
“No, you’re right, you’re not. A mom wouldn’t have left him.” Dina brings her hands to her face, wiping away tears before they have a chance to fall. “You left me.”
What did Ellie think was going to happen, really? Did she think Dina would welcome her with open arms? That JJ would call her ‘mom’ and they would return to business as usual?
What did she come here for, anyway?
“I don’t know what to say.” Ellie shrugs, putting her head down. “I’m sorry.”
“‘Sorry’ doesn’t do jack shit. You can feel as sorry as you want, Ellie, but I don’t forgive you. I will never forgive you.” Dina draws a deep breath, letting her tears fall freely. “Now get the fuck off of my property.”
“...That’s it?” Ellie asks without thinking. They say that “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned”, and the look in Dina’s eyes tells Ellie that this is true.
“I can chase you out with a shotgun if you’d prefer.”
“I love you,” Ellie blurts.
“But not enough to stay.”
JJ’s left his room, and his little head pokes out from around the corner of the porch. Ellie tries not to look at him.
“Mommy, who’s she?” He asks innocently. Abnormally calm for a kid seeing a lady covered in blood at his doorstep.
“She’s nobody.” Dina grabs the corner of the door, swinging it until it’s almost closed. “Goodbye, Ellie.”
Oh.
Okay. That’s okay. Ellie can just… okay. It’ll be fine. This is fine.
Joel’s house is just a few backyards away.
She makes it there in record time, fumbling with the spare key that’s still “hidden” over the doorframe before letting herself in. Joel’s been dead for years. All of his stuff is still inside, untouched.
His desk is still upstairs in his bedroom, coated in a layer of dust and dirtied by time. She sits in his chair and wonders if this is the first time it’s been used since he used it, if she’s ruining something that was his. It wouldn’t be the first time.
She takes her pistol out of her pocket, puts it on his desk. It looks unnaturally vibrant against the dull papers and dust-covered carvings he left behind. She doesn’t know why she did that.
She doesn’t know why she came back. There’s nothing for her here.
It’s starting to feel like there’s nothing for her anywhere.
She ruins people like it’s a high to be chased, and she knows it’s a problem; but addicts are addicts, and she just can’t stop. She needs Dina. She needs JJ.
She needs Joel.
There are times she wishes she could see him again, but this isn’t one of them; she doesn’t have the nerve to shoot herself. Too squeamish for suicide.
But the thought is comforting, from time to time. The fact that she could do it if she wanted to.
The door opens downstairs, creaky from lack of use, and there are frantic, hurried footsteps while someone calls her name over, and over, and over again. She doesn’t respond.
Tommy finds her on his own, eventually.
Unlike Dina, Tommy looks like shit; he’s lost more weight than he can afford, his hair’s gone gray, and the circles under his eyes are more pronounced than ever. His tired eyes drift to the gun on the desk.
“Ellie,” he says, pacing over to the edge of the desk and grabbing the corner for balance. His hands make streaks in the dust, revealing the rich cherry wood underneath. “Christ, Ellie.”
“Abby’s alive.” She reveals, ripping the band-aid off. Better to say it now than to exchange pleasantries.
“I heard,” He says lowly. “I shouldn’t have asked you to do that. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, well,” Ellie shrugs, “nothing we can do about it now.”
Tommy shakes his head, crouching down so that he and Ellie can see eye-to-eye. “I said a lot of things I didn’t mean. You were movin’ on, and I couldn’t take it. I-”
“How did you know I was here?”
Tommy gulps. “Dina told me. Said she reckoned you might off yourself or collapse trying.”
“Oh.”
“...Are you? Gonna off yourself?” He asks hesitantly, eyeing the gun once more.
“No.” Ellie admits, Tommy looking at her doubtingly. “I’m not.”
“Are you staying?”
Silence.
“Do you have anywhere to go?”
Technically, she’s got tons of places to go. The world is her oyster. But she knows what Tommy’s asking; does she have any one to go to. Does she have a steady place to live. People who care about her.
No, no, and no.
“I’ll figure something out.” She says.
“Stay.” There’s fear in Tommy’s voice. “Dina, I’m sure she’ll come around. You’re damn good on patrol. And if you go again…”
“I’m afraid I’ll never see you again,” goes unsaid.
“No.” She says with finality. “I’ve got things to do. People to see.”
“What people?”
Ellie puts her pistol back in her waistband as she stands, pushing Joel’s chair back in. “See you around, Tommy.”
“Ellie.” He pleads.
But she ignores him, stepping down the stairs and slamming the front door behind her without a word.
When she arrives at the only way in and out of Jackson, the patrolman from earlier lets her out without a second thought.
The gates open easier from the inside.