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Tommy approached him. Joel smiled at first, seeing his brother back, but it dropped in an instant.
“Where’s Ellie?” were the first words he said. The worry was impossible to miss.
“I’m sorry.” Tommy avoided his gaze. He couldn’t look.
“What? What happened?” The fear was impossible to miss as well.
“I’m sorry,” Tommy uttered again. What else could he say?
“What happened?” This time, there was a trifle of anger in his voice. Joel needed answers, and he had to give them, try to absolve himself.
“I’m sorry,” he said a third time, “it wasn’t her blood they needed. They… they needed her bain. Study it. I’m sorry.”
Like sorry could cover it. Guilt would never leave Tommy, but he had made a choice. He didn’t stop them. He could have, he supposed, but he didn’t. It was the best choice, given the circumstances, the right one. It wasn’t hard to convince himself of this fact, it was the truth. The world needed a cure. His child needed to be safe. They all needed it. And despite the guilt, the self-hatred, he was hopeful. And this left a bad taste in his mouth, but it felt good too. Hope felt good.
Realization seemed to dawn on Joel very slowly, like he didn’t want to believe. But then, anger grew quickly, deforming his face. Tommy saw the punch coming, he didn’t avoid it.
“You were meant to protect her! To keep her safe! I trusted you,” his voice broke at the last words.
He fell on the ground, his legs unable to support him, the grief crushing him. This was a sight of a far away past. It was too hard to look at, so he looked away.