Previously on The Walking Dead:

Kenny marched around, his hands balled into fists, "We need to get to Wellington!"

...

"Omid ran off with AJ," Bonnie sadly said

...

Bonnie held a hand up to her hand while looking at the remains of the two, "Oh god..."

...

"KENNY STOP!" Mike demanded yet didn't stop giving Clementine CPR

Kenny kept punching Arvo repeatedly, splatters of blood flying everywhere.

...

"Kenny... you just fucking murdered that boy!"

...

"Nick," Clementine muttered as her eyes traveled to the keys that were rested on the dash, "We could leave right now."

...

Nick looked at the road ahead, "Buckle up!"

...

"There's no room," Edith told the both of them with a frown, "I'm sorry"

"Just take Clementine!"

...

"G-goodbye Nick..."

"Goodbye Clem... I love you."

Nine years later.

I closed my eyes as another harsh force of wind blew on my face. My teeth chattered and a shiver went down my spine. I hated the cold. It was always so... cold. Felt like tiny ice needles were sticking themselves into my flesh. I stood up a bit straighter when the wind eased itself to be calmer. I used my hand to cover the sunshine form my eyes and looked back at the snowy hill. People still came by sometimes, seeking shelter. There would be times we couldn't accept, due to capacity issues. Even though the place was much bigger then it was nine years ago, when I first came here. Right now we were full. My job was to tell the people who came around that we had to turn them away. Someone has to.

Yes, Wellington indeed was all it promised to be. Safe, civil, and protected. I cant even remember the last time I saw a walker. Six months ago, maybe? But that doesn't really mean anything. They're still out there. When I get jobs to go on runs, I see a few. But there is more then the undead to worry about. People are still a threat.

"Everything alright?" I heard the raspy yet soft voice of Edith. I snapped myself away from my thoughts and I turned to her, examining her like I had done countless times before. The years had been hard on her. The small bits of grey in her hair and added wrinkles to her face showed that. She has done her best work here, treating the people with kindness you'd think would be abandoned by everyone at this point.

I gave a slight nod, "Yeah."

"Anyone come by?"

"Everyday," I informed, not to sure if I sounded sad or burdened, "A family of four came around. Mother, father, set of twin teenagers. Broke the news that we had nowhere to fit them, gave them a bag and set them on their way."

Edith took a breath in and out. She hated casting them back out there. Hated it with a passion, "Thanks... for doing that, I mean."

"It's my job," I shrugged.

"It's not an easy one, and I never want you to treat is as such," Edith told me, holding me under her gaze.

I turned my head away, looking back at the hill, "Are you here to take your shift?"

"Yeah," She breathed out. I gave her my gun (We weren't allowed to have them lying around in the inside of the community) and straightened out my uncomfortable coat before picking up my cold water bottle.

"Thanks," I muttered, not to sure if she heard me. She must've though, because she gave a nod of acknowledgement. I turned to head back inside, but she placed her hand on my shoulder to stop me. I slowly turned, facing her to see what she had wanted.

"He'll come back," She sounded so sure of her statement. So positive, "I can see you're troubled by it this evening."

Of course, she was referring to Nick. The man I had been traveling with before I ended up here. He was so much more then that though. He was my father figure. My hero. The kind of person I wanted to grow up to be. After Luke, I somehow managed to convince him to take me and leave so that we could find Wellington. Yeah... find Wellington then leave me on the fucking doorstep. Year after year, I sat on the overlook with Edith to wait for him. Wanting to see him upon arrival. I kept making excuses for him. Maybe he got in a tight spot and had to head somewhere else. Maybe he forgot where the place was and now was looking for me. Maybe... just maybe. Yeah, maybe. I stopped that when I was seventeen, assuming that he had died and wouldn't come. It was safer to assume.

Of course, there was always the mental image of that in my head. Of him being bled out or bitten. Dying in some kind of nasty trench. I wanted to believe I didn't care, but I did.

"You said that last year," I reminded, returning to the conversation, "And the year before that."

She smirked, "I have a gut feeling Clem. I use to read fortunes, remember? I promise, he'll turn up."

I rolled my eyes. She really expects be to believe that because she read palms and tea leaves? Please, "Edith, you cant be sure. He's most likely dead. I've gotten over it, you should too."

"C'mon Clem," She lightly scolded, "You cant live the rest of your life, however long that maybe, acting cold! I know the fact Nick hasn't come hurts you-"

"It doesn't!" I snapped at her, cutting her off before she could say something to upset me further, "Stop acting like you know everything Edith. Nick isn't coming, and I'm fine with that. Now stop."

"Its called having faith, Clem," She didn't seem effected by what I had just told her, "You have to have some once in awhile."

I let out a big breath. She was always going on and on about having hope and believing and all that jazz. I never paid much attention to her lectures. They seemed false and pointless most the time. I shooed her hand away from me.

"Whatever," I mumbled, climbing down the latter.

I started to walk down the snowy path to my 'home', I guess you should call it. It really was nothing more then a small hut made out of animal furs from the game we killed tied to long sticks with leather strips and unused shoe laces. But it worked. There were some bigger then others, for bigger families. I stayed with Edith for awhile, she figured that I shouldn't be left on my own at a young age. When I turned eighteen, they allowed me to have one of my own. I sighed, passing small children playing in the snow who would soon be called in to have their evening rations. I did my best to tune out their squeals of laughter as I made my way to my hut. When I got there, I entered and tossed my water bottle to one of the corners by my backpack.

I looked down at the ground, where my sleeping bag and pillow were resting. I kneeled down and wiped the front of it off, my eyes scanning to make sure that it was in tip top shape. I deemed it fine, and sat down on it. Another shiver went down my spine as I reached my arms out to untie my boots, which had small traces of snow on the toe and undoubtedly a small bump or two of it on the bottoms. I took of my shoes and set them by my backpack as well, taking of my hat in the process and I reached for the white bag. I undid the zipper, and placed it inside, where small bits of saved food and yet another bottle of water were neatly tucked in. Closing it back up, I carelessly pushed it back with the rest of my stuff and plopped my head on my pillow.

Now that I was in the privacy of my hut, I let out a shaky breath and looked up at the 'ceiling'. I didn't realize that the edges of by vision were blurred from unshed tears until sniffed. One fell from my eye since it was to full of the salty water and I quickly used the back of my hand to wipe it away from my cheek. Shit, not this again. The hand I was using balled into a fist, knuckles white from tightness, as I mentally cursed myself for showing a sign of weakness. Golden orbs opened and sight stretched back to the white bag. I bit my bottom lip to keep it from trembling as I once again opened the back and dug my hand all the way to the bottom. When my fingers found the object they were looking around for, I slowly pulled it out and looked at it.

A long dead, rusting watch.

It was his. Pete gave it to him after Carver. And he gave it to me. Or maybe I stole it. Thinking back, I'm pretty sure I took it, thinking he would lose it, then found it in my pocket a couple hours after he left me here. I twirled it around in my hand, admiring every little detail. Hesitantly, I put it on my wrist. Struggling slightly with the clasp, but managed just fine. It was a bit big, but it held. Looking at it reminded me of all the times I caught him trying to figure out what time it was or remembering his uncle, which I could tell when that was by the way he stared at it. Probably the same way I am now.

And these memory's were the ice breaker.

More tears leaked out as I closed my eyes again and held my wrist close to me, crying silently. I missed him. I missed everything about him. His stupid dad jokes and nicknames. But he's gone. I had to convince myself he was gone. And I was convinced. He wouldn't have just left me here, would he? No... he was gone or gone and walking.

Yes, I wanted to believe he was dead.

Because every other thought hurt.

IT HAS RETURNED!

Welcome to Into The Darkness! Did you like the first chapter?

The first 'book' is titled, "Shadows on the Hills" I suggest you read that before you read this.

I know what you're thinking... "Emily what about Covering my Ears and Its Here or Nothing?!" Well, don't worry. I can handle it!

If you gave me an OC, then they wont show up for a little bit, I promise Im not forgetting them.

I don't know how often chapters are going to be updated, but I'll try for weekly.

Please leave a review to tell me what you think.

in the mean time...

BATMAN OUT ;)