Kind Words

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While this certainly wasn't on the top of my list of things I needed to do, it certainly was fun to write. My second piece of Walking Dead Game writing, I hope that it doesn't disappoint :3 I feel as if there isn't enough writing out there about Matthew and Walter, I think that it's so cute how nice they both are. Man, I would give anything to get a bit more time with Walter and Matthew.

I hope you all enjoy, I know it's rather long, but I hope you have just as much fun reading it as I did writing it!

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The cold had latched itself onto Matthew's bare cheeks, refusing to ease up. His hoodie covering his head from the snow and providing more warmth than his inky, black hair could ever give. He felt the gaze of his partner and looked up to see Walter's soft, hazel eyes upon him. Walter was one of those rare people who hadn't been gifted with good looks, and yet never failed to make you smile with his reassuring gaze. Matthew couldn't help but give him a tired smile back. The two men had been travelling alone for a long time now, taking only comfort in each other. Groups had come and gone, but Walter and Matthew always stayed the same.

The light snowfall would have once been a welcome sight. The first snowy day of the winter was normally the first day of their vacation. Now, Matthew would willingly give up all the supplies in the world just for one sunny day on the beach. The two men had been caught slap bang in the middle of the initial outbreak, with nothing more than their skiing gear to defend themselves against both walkers and the military alike. The two of them sat around the makeshift fire they had built in an opening of the woods. The moonlight shone down upon them and filled them with dreams of humanity.

Mankind had accomplished everything and anything. Once they put a man on the moon, there was no stopping the creatures. They just kept going, and going, and going. Until eventually they became so powerful that they became the opposite of what they had set out to be. The dead weren't some part of the rapture, not a big devil-worshiping cult's evil curse. They were the ultimate match for the humans. Ironically the only thing strong enough to finally put an end to these monstrous creatures known as humans was the dead members of their own kind. Matthew put away the little journal he had been writing in and sighed.

"Perhaps one day if all of this dies down, which I will be the first to admit is pretty unlikely, we can publish a book about it." Matthew said, trying to take his mind off the frostbite he felt in his fingers.

Walter chuckled softly and rubbed Matthew's back "If things ever go back to how they were, there's no way the computer geeks made it this long. Books will be the only thing people have left in this world for entertainment, besides… Well, you know." Walter said, blushing faintly.

"I think it's a great idea. 'Walter and Matthew's big book of stuff you already know', it'll be a killer. Do you think they'll like the twist? That the walkers aren't actually sick people?" The two lovers shared a laugh.

Walter reached his hand up and slowly rubbed his thumb across Matthew's face. He furrowed his brow and pulled him closer "We'll be out of this cold before you know it… Just think of all the nice, warm chocolate milk we used to drink at the lodge. You always used to complain about not liking marshmallows in yours, but everyone always knew you only did it because you knew that I hated them as well. Didn't want me to feel like the bad guy for hating something everyone else loves, eh?"

Matthew's cheeks lit up in a soft crimson glow "Don't act like you're some great detective for working that one out, hell I told you myself. Just cause you say you figured it out doesn't mean anything, hun. Heh, maybe I should put that into the book. Future generations will come up with loads of different theories as to why you hate the little delights."

Walter gave him a smug look "You just KNOW that there's going to be someone out there who claims that marshmallows were the secret cause of the outbreak. Y'know, it's funny. Steinbach always said-"

The shuffling of leaves snapped the two out of their little world and brought them back to the harsh, frozen jungle that they were in. Matthew removed himself from Walter's grip and drew his rifle, whilst Walter removed his own pistol from its holster. The soft shuffling resumed and two figures, one small and one large, slowly emerged from the darkness surrounding them. From the surrounding tree line emerged a young boy, dark skin and even darker hair. The larger figure, holding the boy's hand, was a woman of equally dark hair, but powder white skin. In her hand she held a small pistol, no bigger than a clenched fist.

The woman slowly raised her hands into the air, presumably as a gesture of surrender, or peace. The boy, whom could not possibly be any older than 12, simply crossed his arms and clenched his eyes closed, as if doing so would protect him from the harsh wind. Both of them had cuts and bruises on their faces. A soft, croaky voice slowly spoke up "P-Please… For God's sake, we j-just need some food." The woman said. The two men immediately put away their weapons and rushed over to them. The woman just about collapsed into Matthew's arms, whilst Walter picked up the child and rushed him over to the fire. Matthew half carried, half dragged the woman over to the warmth of their camp. By the time they had reached the fire she had already passed out.

The boy, Michael, was scooping out some cold beans with his hands, scoffing as much as he could into his mouth as fast as he could. The woman, or rather, the girl was evidently not as old as she had seemed earlier on. She had certainly acquired all the things that most men would look for. But she was no older than 17. And Matthew and Walter weren't 'most men'. The teenager, Juno, had greasy blond hair and a pair of harsh green eyes. However, the girl seemed anything but harsh. Once the both of them had been fed and had warmed up, they seemed to become less weak. However, their anxious behavior remained. Neither man blamed them, from what they could tell the two of them had been living alone for a long time.

Michael was sitting with Matthew as the older man showed off his journal. From what he could tell, Michael was a big reader and writer. Even before the apocalypse, it was hard to find children who genuinely enjoyed reading and writing, and even harder to find children who were actually any good at it. To no great surprise, Matthew took a great interest in the child. As the two of them sat and flipped through all the great quotes Matthew had been writing down in his journal, Walter sat with Juno and made small talk.

"Judging from the cuts and bruises, either you two enjoy a good wrestling match, or you've been having it harder than anyone ever deserves… I'm sorry about how hard it must have been, but you're safe now."

Juno looked up at him with her cold and lifeless eyes "No. We're not safe. And neither are you…" The girl trailed off and returned to looking back down at the freshly lain snow. Walter put a hand on her shoulder and gave her soft, reassuring squeeze. The girl did not look up.

The next day was no better than the last. The snowfall was heavier, the winds were harsher and the sun refused to come out from behind the clouds. As Matthew gripped the straps to his backpack tightly, he shut his eyes against the wailing gale. He thought back to the days when he and Walt had gone skiing and the feeling of wind running through his hair meant he was having a fun time. He found himself hoping for some warm chocolate milk more than ever.

Juno jumped at the slightest sounds, the snap of a twig making her guard shoot up. Walter had to constantly reassure her that no warm would come to her. Even if she was listening to what he had to say, she certainly didn't believe him. Michael's dark skin had gotten some colour back to it, which was taken as a good sign.

"A week till we reach the lodge? Pfft, we can totally pull that off." Matthew joked in a half sarcastic tone. He sounded as if he wasn't quite sure whether he wanted to be optimistic or not, so he just decided to shut up. Walter looked over the map and sighed "Remember when the ski lift did all of the moving for us? Although you've got to admit, at the end of all of this our leg muscles will be tougher than politician's ego." He joked, more successfully than Matthew had done. The smile on their faces slowly vanished as the soft click of a gun being loaded told them that something was wrong.

Matthew was the first one to react. Juno had been lagging behind them for quite some time, but neither of them had checked on her. Now she stood far away from them, her small firearm raised at the group. From the darkness of the surrounding trees, Matthew saw a shadow moving. The shadow grew larger, and larger, until it was no longer a shadow. A tall and thin man slowly appeared from out of the woods, switching his aim from Juno to the group.

Juno's aim never faltered, gun raised and ready to fire. She looked as if she could burst into tears at any moment. The man gave a low, guttural laugh and moved closer to the teenage girl. He slowly lowered his gun, brushed her long golden hair to the side and whispered something in her ear. Whatever it was, it seemed to cause some kind of reaction as her arms seemed to lose their strength for a moment. The man looked to be in his 40's, not much older than Walter. He had long, straggly grey hair sprouting from the top of his head that ran down to his neck. He ran his hands over her body and down her thighs, grinning in a bittersweet way.

Juno's whispers became loud enough for the men to hear "D-Dad, don't…" she muttered softly. By now Walter had pistol in hand, but was not aiming at either Juno or the man. "Please, sir. If this is your daughter then you are more than welcome to join us. Just let her go and perhaps we can move on from this. Michael had a blank look on his face, as If his mind was somewhere else completely. The man let go of Juno as suddenly as he had grabbed her. He started to walk closer to the men, as if he had just won the lottery. "Well fuck me sideways. What have we got here? Hey, Asian boy-"He looked over at Matthew who now had a rifle aimed at him "It ain't polite to threaten an unarmed man." Matthew's expression did not falter.

The older man gave Walter and Matthew a crooked smile "Now, you see these little bundles of meat here are my kids. Well, for the most part. You see… People are always fighting over food and protection. But why not try for both?"

Walter gave the man a dirty look "What does any of this have to do with the children?"

The toothy man continued to smile "Well, now in this world, there are no rules. And there's only one thing that men desire more than food. A fuck partner. And, well, there ain't exactly many women left. So I've got to make do with what I have…" He nodded sideways at both of the children "All I ask is a little food and water, and in return you can spend an hour with whichever one of the kids you want. A small price to pay for such a wonderful offer. Hell, the girl's my only actual daughter. The rest of the kids I've got are just strays that I pick off the street. I just send a kid or two ahead of the rest of us to determine what kind of… tastes the group we're following has.". Matthew's stomach sunk and he felt a sudden weakness in him. He aimed the rifle up at the man again "Mister, there doesn't need to be rule to know that this is just fucked up. Even in the most barbaric of societies, children are never forced to suffer for the leisure of another." Walter had stopped speaking, simply dumbstruck. He stared straight past the old man and at Juno, whom by now had collapsed into a wreck on the icy ground.

The toothy man looked over the two men "I always was a good judge of character… I know neither of you are interested in the girl. I know which side your bread is buttered on. The boy, however, comes at a mighty cheap price…" He said in a gruff tone, approaching the boy and patting his head. Walter simply stared at him, nostrils flared. Walter had never been a man of violence, but he knew the difference between right and wrong. It was apparent that this man didn't need to have a gun to be dangerous.

Walter drove his leg up in between the man's legs, colliding with his baby makers. The man went down hard and pulled out a gun. Before either Matthew or Walter could do anything the old man started to shoot wildly. Several deafening shots rang out before Matthew could kick the gun from the children's pimp. Michael let out a loud wail, snapping out of his dazed state. He clutched at his chest and cried out, tears running down his face. He wailed wildly as Matthew knelt down to inspect the boy as Walter tied up the man with some rope they had in their backpack. Matthew tried to hold the boy still as he looked over the kid. Blood trickled out through a gaping hole in his padded coat "Please make it stop, make it stop, please!" The kid yelled in pain, clutching wildly at his injured stomach. He had been lucky, the bullet had gone straight through, but he wouldn't be able to walk.

The low moaning alerted them to the company that they had attracted. Four, five, half a dozen walkers slowly lurched towards the group. The man struggled against his bindings as Juno merely sat on her knees in the snow, walkers closing in on her. A cry from the rugged female voice told them that it was too late to save her. Matthew killed a few walkers, but there were too many for him to kill. Instead he blocked out the screams and focused on the lives that he needed to save. He picked up Michael and made ran to Walter. As the men fled the scene, Walter looked back on the old man, still in his binds. Walter simply lowered his gaze away and blocked out the cries for help from the demented old man. Once the walkers were on top of him, Walter's sad face turned away from the horrific man and looked up to look to see his partner and the wailing boy up in the distance.

Once they have gotten far enough away from the hungry beasts, Matthew stops and sets the boy down, his wailing having become a soft moaning. Both men took care to be gentle with the boy as they opened up his jacket and looked over his wound. Matthew felt his heart sink as he saw how high the bullet wound was. At the very least, he had a punctured lung "God damn it… No wonder that hurt." Walter muttered, receiving a look from Matthew. Walter said nothing. They both knew that there was no hope for the boy, certainly not out here. The two men stayed with the boy. His breathing went from shallow to nonexistent. His heartbeat slowed and then stopped. Walter raised the barrel of the gun to the child's head. He pulled the trigger. Walter said nothing. As the two men were leaving, they looked back at the body of the child, already half buried with snow.

"He mentioned other children." Matthew said, chewing on some stale gum. Walter nodded "Yes, he did." For a moment Walter said nothing else. The sad look in Matthew's eyes provoked him to add something on to the sentence "Yes, he did. And if he has lots of them, then the most likely place that they'd be is the lodge." Walter said in a tone that showed that he himself didn't really believe what he was saying. It had been four days since the incident. The lodge was just up ahead of them, a shining beacon in the middle of nowhere. The climb up was hard without the ski lift, but neither of them complained. Walter smiled for the first time in days when he saw that the lodge itself was untouched. Him and Matthew had already been coming up with a "plan B" encase they couldn't stay at the lodge.

After a few unsuccessful attempts at getting a fire going, Matthew managed to get a spark with an old trick that his uncle had taught him. Walter gave Matthew another one of his reassuring eyes, the fire dancing in his kind eyes. Matthew leaned over, smiled and pressed his lips up against Walter's. The two of them intertwined their hands and Matthew rested his head upon Walter's shoulder.

"You were right about coming to the lodge… This is a place that we can stay. A place that we can make work. We can be happy here." Walter said in his soft tone.

Matthew grinned at him "I always know best…" He said in a hushed tone, before once again kissing the other man.

Walter smiled, sadly "Matthew always knows best…"

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You can just imagine Walter thinking back on this moment as he realizes that Matthew is dead. He repeats the words to himself "Matthew always knew best…"

Poor, poor Walter.