Summary: Even through their bleakest of moments, they rely on the other and that's how they've always gotten by. When all they have left in the world is each other, Luke and Clementine struggle to survive in a world full of death, despair, and decay.

A/N: Clementine is 17 in this story.

Until Tomorrow

1. Strategies

Clementine resists the urge to run. Instead, she makes an effort to land on soft feet with every step that she takes. She moves swiftly as she advances further forward, grunting quietly as she lands again. She doesn't look down for a moment as she continues to vault across the countless openings between each building.

The moon is full, casting a cold blue glow on the dark streets below and providing the only source of light for her to see the silhouettes of the rooftops in front of her.

She's not afraid of falling. She's done this many times before. Instead, she feels a sense of excitement as the breeze brushes past her face with every leap, further loosening the stray curls that peek from under her baseball cap. The chill air that envelopes her body is thrilling, and she doesn't mind the occasional raindrop soaking into her skin.

Adrenaline courses through her veins as she braces another landing with both hands, picking herself up again in an instant.

Finally, her destination creeps into view as she hikes up a steep rooftop, jumping down onto the flat platform below. She approaches the edge at a slow pace, panting from the trek.

Her eyes gaze over her surroundings, and the sound of snarls and groans from down below reach her ears again. Walkers line the streets, shuffling aimlessly in their places. The road is littered with them, but Clementine's eyes only focus on the building at the corner of the block in the distance. She's only a few rooftops away. Shouldn't be too long now.

The sound of static snatches her attention and she instinctively reaches for the device on her belt.

"Clem? How's it lookin' over there?"

She holds the walkie-talkie to her mouth. "I got it in my sights." She responds, still catching her breath. "The place is surrounded."

"You gonna go for it?"

"Yeah," she responds, exhaling. She observes the diner down below, already planning her route in her head. "Should be able to get into the roof from here."

"Yeah- yeah. I see it, too. A few blocks down the way. Just holler at me when you're in. I'm on my way over."

Clementine lowers the walkie-talkie and moves to clip it back onto her belt, before the static picks up again.

"And Clem?"

She raises the device once more. "Yeah?"

"Be careful."

She purses her lips together, nodding faintly. "Yeah," she says in a low voice, "you too."

Cautious not to make a sound, she leaps down from the rooftop onto the next one, keeping an eye on the walker infested streets below as she gets nearer. She figures they shouldn't be able to see her from up here in the darkness. Vaulting down off the last platform, she smoothly lands on the roof of the diner and dusts her hands off.

The area by the front door is infested by the dead, including the back alley where the only other door is located. It's raining lightly for now, but the weather is sure to pick up within the next couple of minutes. It wouldn't do her any good if she smeared herself in guts to get there. It's too risky getting the smell washed off from the rain, so she had opted to take the high road. Using the cover of darkness is a beneficial tactic, anyway. She likes it better that way.

The building she's on is only one storey high, and the chorus of moans below are now deafening her ears after getting so close to them. Crouching low so as not to become noticed by any lingering walkers, Clementine approaches the skylight window and attempts to yank it open with both hands. When it doesn't budge, she jams her knife into the opening and pushes, but the thing refuses to pry. Hacking it open with her axe would surely attract the walkers that roam just a few feet below her.

"Shit," she mumbles, then reaches for her walkie-talkie and holds it in front of her mouth. "Skylight's busted. Must be jammed from the inside."

"I figured as much," came the immediate reply. It would've been too easy. "Guess that calls for plan B?"

"Yeah," Clementine confirms, gazing aimlessly at the night sky above with a hand heavy on her hip.

"I was hoping you would say that."

She rolls her eyes, though she can't help the amused smirk that manages to creep its way onto her lips.

The walkie-talkie delivers static again. "Alright… I see you. Remember, wait for the signal, then get-"

"-Get what we came for, and get out. Got it." Clementine interrupts as she paces across the roof.

"Alright, get ready."

Clementine kneels near the edge, positioning herself directly on top of the door. A few suspenseful moments pass by as she stares at the walker infested road in front of her, the end of the city visible on the horizon. Her stomach grumbles while she waits.

Finally, she hears a faint sizzling sound as a red glow soars past her and her heartrate increases, adrenaline sparkling inside her. Forcing herself to be patient, she continues to peer down the street in anticipation. Two more sail above a second later, the flares landing a distance away from her down the road. The warm glow is like a beacon in the night.

When moaning walkers turn away and begin to stumble towards the light, Clementine frantically hops down from the roof and wastes no time in wedging her knife into the crack of the closed door. She doesn't bother trying the handle first, assuming it's most likely locked.

She uses the blade to push the button on the inside of the door and unlock it, swinging it open in one forceful push. Clementine makes a beeline for the kitchen at the back of the building while pulling out her pocket-sized flashlight and clamping it between her teeth.

She manages to catch a glance of the interior of the restaurant. It's as typical as any diner with the red and white tiled floor and neon signs on the walls that stopped working a long time ago. Stools and tables are flipped over and various objects are scattered across the floor in a frantic, blood-stained mess.

She moves quickly, flinging open every cupboard and drawer she passes. Half of them are empty and she groans in frustration, the flashlight only providing her a slim amount of light in the pitch-dark room. Clementine shoves all the food she finds into her backpack; cans, boxes, jars, everything. She manages to clear out the entire kitchen in only a couple of minutes until her bag can barely close. She forcefully zips it up and strides back out to the restaurant.

On her way to the door, she freezes in her tracks when she catches sight of a bright red box bolted to the wall at the opposite side of the diner. There's a small glass window on the front, revealing a case inside with a white cross on it. It's a first aid compartment.

She hesitantly glances through the windows, noticing the walkers are still distracted by the flares outside. She looks back to the tempting box, biting her lip in thought. She only has a limited amount of time before the dead lose interest and come straight back to lingering outside the building.

Her backpack is overflowing, but medicine is a luxury that only gets harder to find as the days go on. The city is nearly picked clean. This is all that's left of it.

She hurriedly runs across the restaurant towards it and begins to stick the tip of her knife through the compartment door, before she feels a bony hand on her shoulder and a loud growl sounds behind her. She shrieks, jumping in surprise and whipping around in an instant, knocking the walker into a wheeled cart that was stood behind him. He stumbles clumsily, the cart wheeling away and glass shattering as it falls off the surface and onto the hard tile floor.

Clementine lunges forward and plunges her knife into its eye socket, then again in its forehead as blood splatters on her face. Panicked from the noise that was just caused, she whips her head around to see a few straggling walkers through the windows, slowly making their way towards her. The rest of them are sure to follow within seconds.

"Fucking hell," she mutters under her breath.

"What's goin' on in there, Clem?"

Figuring she's already drawn their attention and there's no point in trying to be quiet anymore, she shatters the case with her axe in one swift motion, shielding her eyes with her forearm as glass shards scatter around her feet.

"Just a walker," she pants into the device. "Fucker must've come from the bathrooms." Clementine is already pacing back to the door, first aid kit in hand.

"Well, you best get outta there quick. They're losin' interest out here, and fast."

She tucks the kit between her rucksack and lower back, securing the straps tightly around her waist so it doesn't slip out. When she swings open the door, she's greeted by another rotting face with blood dripping from its teeth, snarling at her, and Clementine slices her axe through its skull in an instant.

Its raining harder now, just like they predicted. With the darkness and the bad weather, it's gotten more difficult for her to identify her surroundings.

Countless walkers are flooding towards her now but she slowly advances down the road with every swing, downing them one after the other.

Clementine yells as she thrusts her hatchet into a walker's skull, and forcefully pulls it down to the ground. She grips her weapon with both hands and aggressively yanks it out of its forehead. As she finishes it off, she notices in her peripheral vision an arrow plunging into another walker's eye a short distance away from her, and audibly snapping its neck backwards.

She smirks. The sound of grunting and more launching arrows can be heard in the distance. She knows he's with her somewhere.

She takes out another, slicing its head clean off its limping shoulders in one sharp swing.

"Clementine!"

She quickly scans the dark area, shielding her eyes with her arm. "Luke!" she calls, relieved from the sight of his figure in the distance.

"Get over here, let's go!" He shouts to her over the sound of the rain and shrieks of the dead. He stands at the entrance of the alleyway next to the diner, crossbow in hand. He's propping open the wired gate and beckoning her over with his arm.

Clementine sprints towards him. Luke fires more arrows through a couple of walkers in her path, covering her as she rushes through the gate.

"The ladder, hurry!" he yells to her.

Panting, she climbs to the top with Luke following close behind her, a walker clawing at his legs and just missing as the man pulls himself up. Numerous walkers crowd around the bottom of the ladder, and Clementine feels every one of her limbs shaking.

ooo

"What the hell happened back there?" Luke asks as soon as he closes the café door behind him, still catching his breath.

"I had it under control." Clementine quickly strides to the end of the shop and heavily drops her backpack on the ground, avoiding looking back at him.

"It sure as hell didn't look like it," he scoffs, staring at her backside as she crouches down on the floor and opens her backpack.

"I'm sorry, okay? I was on my way out and there was a first aid kit on the wall so I went for it," she explains. "And that's when the walker attacked me."

"You didn't-"

"No," she responds quickly, hostility in her tone. No, she didn't get bit.

He sighs audibly. "Clem, the plan was to just grab the food and get out. Quietly. No dawdling."

"I thought we could use the medicine!" she rises to a stand, turning to look at him with anger blooming in her eyes.

Neither of them need medical supplies at the moment, but there have been too many incidents where they needed aid and didn't have access to it. She couldn't risk regretting anything the next time one of them gets injured. Either way, they need as much resources as they can get right now.

Luke stressfully runs a hand through his hair and shifts his stance, his other hand on his hip.

"I took as much as I could, like we said. There's no way we can risk going back there for anything." Clementine defends.

It's not like she could have left it and come back later, it would be too dangerous after what just happened. She saw the chance and she took it. Clementine exhales and a moment of silence lingers between them.

Luke lowers her voice dangerously, almost to a whisper. "Two seconds… and that's all it takes."

She knows what he means. That's all it takes for something to go wrong. For one of them to get bit. She glares at him, annoyed, and her voice softens. "We got out of there, okay?"

Confirming that the conversation is over, Clementine turns her back to him without another word and grabs the whiskey bottle on top of the counter.

He ponders her statement. She's right, they both made it out alive and no one got hurt. It could have gone a lot worse. The tense silence between them deflates his argument. "Fine," he sighs, defeated. "You win."

Unscrewing the bottle, Clementine plops herself on the floor and leans her back against the wall, taking a swig.

They had been living her for a few weeks now, in an old coffee shop they had taken refuge in from walkers when they first arrived in the city. It's small in size with only a countertop and empty glass display case next to it, with absolutely no pastries inside like it was meant for, much to their disappointment.

A few tables and chairs were positioned off to the side too, but the two had moved those out and transformed it into a space to sleep.

"So, what'd you get?" Luke asks, sounding tired.

Clementine swallows the strong liquid again, the alcohol warming her insides. Leaning forward to drag her backpack closer to her, she pulls out the contents one by one and names each item as well as how many of them she obtained.

"And the first aid?" he gestures to the red case on the ground.

"Bandages, painkillers, morphine…" she lists, picking the items up and briefly observing each of them before throwing them back in the box. "You?"

Luke removes his rucksack from his back and zips it open, taking a seat next to her against the wall.

It was decided to be too risky if both of them went to one place together. That was one more person that could get spotted, so Luke had opted to scavenge a convenience store down the road while Clementine searched the supermarket, just so they could get the most out of their trip. But since they had been eyeing the infested diner for a while, Clementine had decided last minute to add it to her supply run on her way back.

It's become a familiar routine for them, and they've been working this way for as long as they can remember in every city and town they've come across through the years. They cover more ground in less time that way, and they can't afford to not be efficient.

The street they were on was located at the other end of the city, and it was the only area they hadn't searched yet due to the roadblock of cars that kept the walkers locked in. It was there before they arrived, and they avoided it for as long as possible, but they were running low on food and that had left them no choice but to head there. Without their supply run, they would have had no supper for the night, and both had agreed they didn't want to wait until sunrise.

They scan through the contents of both their bags, looking down at their collection on the floor.

"Well, I say this'll last us… two weeks at most. And I reckon that was our last run in this place," Luke observes.

Clementine doesn't respond and only stares forward into nothingness, but she reflects on his statement. He's right, they're going to have to move out of here soon. Move on to another town. There's not much left for them here.

He gestures to the bottle in her hands and she hands it over to him. He tilts his head back, taking a large swig.

Clem hugs her knees to her chest and extends her forearms across them, plopping her head back against the wall. The only sound to be heard is her absentmindedly picking at the dirt under her fingernails.

After another drink, Luke grabs a can of sweet corn from their pile scattered in front of them and uses his pocket knife to cut away the lid. "You should eat something," he advises as he delicately hands it to her.

"Thanks," she accepts it, her agonizingly blank mind distracting her from how hungry she is.

ooo

In the morning, Clementine wakes before Luke does.

It's early, and the sun is shining bright through the windows, casting orange rays of light that allow the gray dust particles in the air to be visible.

When they scavenged an old mattress a while back, Luke had insisted Clementine be the one to use it since it would be too small for the both of them. He had then pieced together his own makeshift cot on the floor next to her with only a couple wool blankets and a thick rolled up sweater.

After retrieving the knife that she keeps under her pillow, Clementine gingerly steps around his sleeping form as she approaches the counter where all their supplies lay, her back now turned to the beds.

She quickly changes her shirt and ties her red flannel around her waist before pulling her boots on. She then tucks the knife into her thigh holster and clips her walkie-talkie onto her belt.

Luke wakes to the rattling sound of Clementine loading her pistol, and she peeks over her shoulder at him when she hears him groan from the intensity of the bright morning light. It's not something that bothers her, though. She's always been a morning person.

He stretches his arms and begins to sit up, eyelids drooping.

"I'm heading out," she says without looking at him, tucking her pistol into the back of her jeans.

Luke sighs audibly, trailing his fingers through his hair. He sits with his knees up and his arms resting on top of them, hands hanging limply. "How long will you be gone this time?" he asks, accepting the situation. He doesn't bother to mention that she tried to leave while he was asleep.

He knows how independent she is, and Clementine regularly leaves on her own. He doesn't ask where. She says the walks help her take her mind off things. Sometimes she comes back with supplies and blood all over her clothes, sometimes she doesn't. Other times she returns and doesn't say a word. Then again, that much is expected from her. She's self-reliant, but she's tough and Luke trusts her to make her own decisions.

"I don't know. A couple hours, maybe," she responds as she lugs her empty rucksack onto her shoulder, hoping to fill it with at least some supplies.

Luke purses his lips, contemplating what he should allow himself to say. "I'll come with you."

"No, I'll be fine," she rejects in a low voice.

He shakes his head. "Clem, you know we had a close call last night," he points out in a quiet voice, trying to keep his tone level after their heated conversation the night before. "Maybe you shouldn't go this time."

She finally turns to face him and a soft, consoling smile lingers on her lips. "Hey. don't worry about me. I'll call you on the walkie if anything goes wrong." she comforts, wishing he didn't have to look so concerned.

Luke remains silent and she's aware he wants to convince her further, but they both know there would be no point in that. They've had such conversations before. He'd keep trying no matter how much she refuses to listen. They're both stubborn like that.

She approaches and bends down to grab her baseball cap from the floor next to her mattress, now at eye level with Luke. "I'll be back soon, okay?" Her hand briefly rubs his shoulder in reassurance and she grins at him, her eyes sparkling. She wishes he didn't worry so much about her.

Luke only mumbles a pained "alright" in response, forcing a smile in return.

With her backpack lazily hanging off one shoulder, he watches as she puts on her baseball cap on her way out, and the door swings closed behind her.

ooo

Clementine doesn't know why she finds solace standing in the middle of an abandoned street. Maybe it's the peacefulness that it brings, and how eerily quiet it can be. She knows she shouldn't feel that way, considering this was once someone's home and it's become nothing but a ghost town now, but she finds comfort in the solitude. She doesn't know if that's a good thing or not.

There isn't a single walker in sight, and Clementine already knows that none of them are on this side of this city. Her and Luke had cleared them out already. The roadblock at the opposite end prevents the others from travelling very far. They mostly just shuffle on the spot or stumble aimlessly up and down the road. They're far from where she is, so she doesn't worry.

The only sound is the whistle of the wind as gravel and orange sand drift through the air like smoke clouds. Sunrise was only a couple of hours ago so the summer heat hasn't reached it's peak yet, which Clementine is thankful for, but the sun still blinds her eyes as she squints up at the clear blue sky.

A couple of birds fly overhead, and she notices a line of clothing hanging above in between two buildings, blowing pathetically in the wind. The town is filled with numerous destroyed cars lining the roads and stray pieces of paper flying across her path from the breeze. The wooden fences within the alleys are rotting and falling apart with the occasional dead walker littering the ground. She walks on in silence with her pistol in hand.

She left the coffee shop about an hour ago and has been searching every corner in every building as she passes by them. Her and Luke had briefly searched this area before, and when they rummaged through it all, they had left quite a bit behind that they didn't think was useful or didn't have room to carry. Like things someone would want instead of need. But she has an empty backpack now, and Clementine eventually finds herself revisiting the comic book store at the end of the block.

The building has large ceiling to floor windows on the wall that faces the street, but the glass had been completely shattered, that side of the store becoming wide open to the outside air. The place is missing an entire wall and all that remains there is the window frames and front door. It's wide in length and connects to other shops on both sides that lengthen all the way down the street.

There isn't much left on the shelves and some of the books are scattered around the floor, but there's enough for her to spend a good half an hour losing herself in them.

She didn't read comics much as a kid. Since she never learned anything past first grade, she can't read very well, but she admires the art. It reminds her of when she used to draw cartoon characters as a little girl living in suburban Georgia. It makes her wish she could have had the chance to improve her drawing skills.

She hums quietly as she shoves the one she was reading into her backpack and grabs another from the shelf, smirking at the purity of it all.

She quickly flips through the new one and stops to cherish the vibrant pictures on certain pages. She takes that one too, aiming to look at it again later. She figures maybe Luke would also like to read them. He did always have a nerdy side for superheroes.

She paces further down the shelf, admiring the artwork on the front covers, before her heart catches in her throat at the sound of shuffling somewhere behind her, like shoes brushing against the pavement outside. Instinctively, Clementine's head snaps around and her form buckles in caution. Her hand hovers over the knife clipped to her thigh.

It could have been the wind, blowing debris along the sidewalk. She doesn't hear anything again after that. But her mind reaches the worst-case scenario and she loathes herself for becoming so off guard in the first place.

Her eyes locked on the street outside, she slowly advances towards the road with her knife gripped tightly in her hand. If a walker made it over here somehow, she'll be able to take it out in one strike. The noise of her pistol would otherwise attract the ones at the other end of the city.

Clementine approaches the wall that connects to the building next door, but as she begins to round the corner, she feels a hand clamp over her mouth from behind and she struggles to breathe.

A/N: To be continued! Also, since it's canon that there's 16 years of age between Luke and Clem, Luke would be 33 in this story. I don't ship them romantically and that's not what this story is supposed to be. I only ship them in a sibling/partners in crime sort of way.