Just Let me.
Summary: You having and a bad day and joel take care of you Pairing: Joel Miler x Reader. Word count: 2K Warning: Emotional stress, tenderness, Joel being soft and grounded
ĚĚâ masterlist | navigation
It had been one of those days. The kind where the world doesnât scream at you it just whispers a thousand tiny things until you canât hear your own thoughts anymore.
The morning started wrong. Your strap broke on your pack just as you were heading out on patrol, the coffee was cold, and someone in the group had been too loud, too sharp with their words. Nothing big. Nothing unusual. But each thing stacked on top of the last, and by the time you made it back to Jackson, it all sat on your chest like a weight.
You didnât say anything when you walked through the front door. You just shut it behind you and leaned against it, eyes shut, letting the silence wash over you.
Joel was already home.
You could hear him moving around the kitchen, slow and methodical. Metal against ceramic. The low hum of his voice muttering to himself maybe, or just breathing heavy from the weight of his own day. He always carried something, even when he didnât say it out loud.
You took a deep breath, then another, and finally pushed yourself away from the door.
He turned just as you stepped into the room. His eyes met yours, and something in his expression changed. Softened.
âHey,â he said, quiet. âYou okay?âYou nodded once, not convincingly. He didnât press. Joel never pressed.
Instead, he turned down the stove burner and wiped his hands on a dish towel. âCome here.â
You didnât move. Not yet. He waited. Joel always waited.
Eventually your legs carried you forward, heavy and reluctant, like you were walking through water. You stopped just a step away from him. He didnât touch you yetâhe just watched you carefully, reading you the way he always did, like you were made of more than skin and bone.
âYou look wrung out,â he murmured. Your voice cracked when you tried to reply. âJust tired.â
âSit,â he said gently, motioning to the chair at the small kitchen table.
You sat.
He poured you a cup of tea not the bitter stuff the patrol usually passed around, but something floral and calming, probably from a jar someone had traded a few months back. It was still warm. He pushed it in front of you, then sat beside you and reached for your hand.
His thumb brushed across your knuckles. You stared down at the little motion, grateful for it in a way you didnât know how to explain.
âDidnât sleep last night,â you said after a beat. âThen today just⌠piled on.â
Joel didnât say, I told you to rest.
He didnât say, You push too hard.
Instead, he hummed quietly and shifted closer. You didnât realize how tense you were until his arm came around your shoulders and you leaned into him, like gravity had been waiting for permission to pull you in. Your face found the curve of his neck, and his beard scratched your skin just enough to make it real. He held you like that tight, protective, quiet.
âYou donât gotta do it all,â he said softly.
âI know.â
âYou donât gotta hold it in either.â
âI know that too.â Your voice was small. âItâs just hard.â
Joel didnât fill the silence with useless words. He just let it stretch, let it settle around the two of you like a blanket.
Eventually, he helped you out of your coat and boots, like you were something fragile, something worth caring for. He didnât ask if you wanted help he just did it, with those rough, capable hands of his, the ones that knew how to break and protect all at once.
He guided you to the bedroom and helped you lie down. Then he left only to come back with a warm cloth, gently wiping your face, sweeping over your temples, your jaw, the tension in your brow.
âYouâre shakinâ,â he said quietly.
âJust tired.âHe brushed your hair back with one hand, the other resting on your chest just over your heart, grounding you. âWant me to stay?â
You nodded. No hesitation.
He kicked off his boots and lay down beside you, pulling you into his chest like heâd done it a thousand times before. Maybe he had. It still felt new every time like no matter how many nights you spent tangled up in each other, this kind of tenderness always caught you off guard.
His hand found yours under the blanket.
You clung to it like it was the only solid thing left in your world.
âI didnât think itâd hit me this hard,â you whispered. âI donât even know what it is.â
âIt doesnât need a name to knock you down,â he said.
You went quiet for a long time. And Joel just held you through it.
Eventually, your breathing evened out, your chest rising and falling against his in slow, heavy waves. But your fingers still gripped his shirt, like you were afraid heâd vanish if you let go.
âI donât know how you do it,â you said.
âWhat?â
âStay so calm when everythingâs too much.â
Joel huffed a soft laugh. âI ainât calm. Iâm just quiet.â
He shifted, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. âAnd Iâve learned when someone I love is hurtinâ⌠you donât fix it by talkinâ. You just stay. Let âem feel it. Let âem know theyâre not alone.â
You blinked hard. âYou love me?â
His silence was loud.
Then, his voice cracked the stillness. âCourse I do. Thought that was obvious.â
Your breath caught. âIt is. I just⌠needed to hear it tonight.â
Joelâs arm tightened around you.
âYou get bad days,â he said into your hair. âHell, you can have as many as you need. But you ainât gonna face any of âem alone. Not anymore.â
The knot in your chest unraveled just a little. Enough to breathe easier.
Enough to believe him.
You stayed like that for a long while his hand wrapped around yours, your head on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat the only thing you needed to hear.
By the time sleep finally pulled you under, you werenât thinking about the broken pack strap or the sharp words or the cold coffee.
You were only thinking about Joel.
And how somehow, even on your worst days, he always knew how to bring you back home.
