The dreams of being back in Jackson don't come as often now, but they're harder to break free of than they were, now that she's so far away. Ellie still feels sometimes that she's living in a dream, that maybe the infection finally took over and she's lurching around a broken-down trailer somewhere, hallucinating a city from the future where she has magic powers and Joel's alive.

This place feels more real sometimes than her apartment, even though she knows, logically, that the dirt on his grave is years old now, not fresh. That these flowers have long since rotted away and faded in the sun.

So Peter's voice startles her. Normally, this is a silent vigil. Alone.

Ellie swipes at her eyes, looking up with a start, then breathes out, rough and shaky.

"... hey."

Of all the people to be here, he's definitely not the worst option.

"You been here long?"