Hello, TWDG fandom! This is my first time writing a TWDG fanfiction, and I really like how this turned out. I don't actually play the game myself because I don't want to pay money for it (I'm cheap, I know), so I just watch walkthroughs on YouTube. I watch the alternate endings if I don't like the choices the player picked. Anyways, I just finished Season 2 Episode 5, No Going Back, and this is set during it. I don't want to spoil too much but I will say the two characters featured are Clem and Jane (two of my favorites!).

So, in case you haven't figured it out... this is a T ! If you haven't played S2E5, do NOT read this fanfiction until you have completed it!

Anyways, that's enough for this A/N. Please, please review and let me know what you think, as I've never written a fanfiction for this fandom before. Good or bad, please let me know. (: Also, since this is the first, I just wanted to start with a one-shot. I'll consider writing something longer if I get positive feedback. Thanks, and enjoy!

It's Okay

It had been over three years since the outbreak of the infamous zombie apocalypse, and Clementine had endured far more than her share of emotionally- and physically-exhausting days—especially given her tender age of eleven. Today, however, and the past week in general, had been among the most trying of them all. The frosty night sky was dotted with countless pinpoints of illumination, and the gleaming moonlight pierced through the otherwise-inky darkness, casting an ivory glow on the surrounding area. Raw, bitter winds snaked mercilessly through the unfinished house the group took shelter in, chilling the air and wrapping her thin frame in a blanket of cold. The partially-enclosed interior, however, with a crackling fire and incandescent embers, was certainly warmer than the unwelcoming winter of the exterior.

Earlier, Jane had urged the young girl to get some sleep while she could. Following Jane's advice, Clementine wrapped herself in the unsightly blue, rainbow-printed coat from Bonnie, curled into the fetal position, and was asleep within minutes. Her slumber was not restful, however, because her dreams were haunted by the events of the day. She awoke with a start multiple times an hour, breathing hard, heart racing, and frightened from her nightmares. No matter how much she attempted to divert her thoughts while she lay awake, she continually dozed off and was shortly made conscious again by her own night terrors. The mental tape of Luke's last moments replayed over and over in her head—his despairing eyes locked with her own, features blurred by the lake and flailing body sinking further and further into eternal darkness as the vile walker dragged him to his watery grave.

After the fourth or fifth time of this troubled cycle, Clementine gave up on the prospect of a good night's rest. Made toasty by her latest nightmare, her down-filled coat was suddenly causing her to nearly break into a sweat. Slipping it off, she folded it up into the likeness of a pillow and reclined back on it, wide awake and too anxious to attempt slumber again. She had not lain there long, however, when she thought she heard a slight noise. She sat up and listened closer, waiting for the rustle of the wind to pass before straining her ears and pondering who or what it might be. The noise—if it had actually been there and was not merely a product of Clementine's imagination—quieted itself momentarily before resuming. She quickly concluded that the noise was not of an "it," but that of a "who"—a human breathing. Said breathing, she deduced after concentrating for a few more seconds, was uneven and shaky, and soft sniffles could be heard if she listened hard enough.

Still unable to detect where exactly this distressed person was, she noiselessly stood and crept to the nearest window which was, thankfully, sealed by glass against the frosty gusts outside. She pressed herself to the window and cupped her hands around her face, peering around outside but finding no one. Figuring the soft sniveling emanated from somebody inside, the little girl began to grow worried—the sorrow was of someone in her group. Still warm from her dream and the fire beside her, Clementine momentarily abandoned her coat, padding quietly across the floor and into the next room.

Though it was dingy and shadowy, the sky's natural chandelier enlightened the area enough to at least see where she was going. The faint whimpering seemed to halt as she stepped through the doorframe. The unfinished floor creaked under her minimal weight, giving away her presence to anyone within earshot. After hearing nothing but the wind's whispering and giving the room a cursory glance, she was about to let it go and return to the fireplace when she spotted somebody. Across the second room—which, from the looks of its size, was likely intended to be separated into multiple areas, had the construction proceeded—a figure sat leaning against a support beam, knees drawn to its chest. Clementine edged closer, and the person froze, undoubtedly spotting her. As she stepped nearer, the figure relaxed and shifted, and a shaft of milky moonlight fell on its face.

"Hey, kid," Jane greeted weakly, her brown, bloodshot eyes rising to meet Clementine's. Her pale countenance was slightly reddened from crying, and streaks of tears shone on her cheeks. She reached up and used her sleeve to wipe some away, though she didn't bother attempting to conceal the fact that she was upset—she knew the younger girl had already heard her despondency.

"Jane?" Clementine observed quizzically, taking in the sight of her despairing friend. Her features, though usually as tough and resilient as Jane herself, reflected the melancholy pain residing within Clementine's own heart. "Are... you okay?" she continued hesitantly, exercising care to keep her voice down.

"Yeah, I'm… I'll be fine." She wiped her eyes again and sat up a bit more. "Don't worry about me," she added, forcing a minute smile of appreciation for her concern.

"Is it about Luke?" Clementine guessed gently, sitting down beside her companion and meeting her defeated gaze.

She chuckled softly, a small, momentary grin playing across her lips. "Partially," she admitted. "I guess I'm more transparent than I think I am." She paused for a moment and inhaled a shaky breath, as if summoning the courage to confess something. "Not just Luke, though he's a significant part of it. Sarah and Nick and Rebecca, too, and everyone else who isn't here anymore. I could've tried harder to get Sarah out from under the deck. Might've been able to just pull her out and drag her up with me. Or maybe if I would've just… taken her out myself, instead of letting her get mauled to death by those damn walkers... Should've just destroyed her brain somehow so she couldn't become one of them… I thought about it, ya' know, but I just… I was too damn scared, so I just gave up." She paused again and took a couple deep breaths, her inhales and exhales trembling with suppressed emotion.

Clementine was saddened by Jane's doleful words, though she was, at first, admittedly angry with Jane for not trying harder to save Sarah. Although she wanted to say something to comfort her remorseful friend, she realized allowing Jane to continue would likely be more beneficial.

"And Rebecca," Jane continued after recomposing herself a bit, "I shouldn't have left. I should've stayed, and maybe I could've helped her somehow." Now into full vent-mode, her words came quickly and poured out in run-on sentences. "And Nick… If I would've hurried faster, I might have been able to hold off the walkers so he didn't have to. And later, if I would've come to help when I heard shouting, instead of waiting until the gunshots… Maybe more of us would be okay. Maybe if I would've—"

Finally, Clementine couldn't take hearing Jane's blameworthy confessions. "It's not your fault," she interrupted, still shocked that the woman who always seemed so calm and self-controlled could full-on lose it like this. But maybe in this zombie-filled world, she thought to herself, this kind of thing isn't so uncommon. "Not entirely, anyways," she added, privately noting her previous thoughts after Sarah's death. "A lot of people have died, and it's not just one person's fault. If it's anyone's, it's Carver's, or whoever made him so mean. There was nothing any of us could do for Rebecca… Bonnie said she lost too much blood when she had AJ. And Sarah," Clem pressed on, a pang of sadness stabbing her at the thought of her deceased confidant, "wouldn't have made it, anyways. She was my friend and I miss her, but she… she would've died eventually, even if you could've saved her at the deck. We all knew that."

"I know," Jane lamented, "I know. But she could've made it longer if I wouldn't have been so anxious to save my own skin. I could've done more to help her get out. Or at least ended her misery myself instead of running like a damn coward and watching her get eaten alive while I stood safe, twenty feet above."

"You did what you could, Ja—" Clementine started.

"No, Clem, don't you even dare say that," she interjected, eyes flashing with fleeting anger as she turned towards the younger girl. "I know you thought that, too, when I climbed back up. I saw the look on your face. You were mad at me for not trying harder. Say whatever you want, but I know what I saw. Just say it: you were mad at me. And don't lie," she added with a scowl.

At this short outburst, Clementine looked down, cheeks flushed red in embarrassment and shame. "I… I was mad at first," she admitted, forcing her gaze back up to meet her friend's. "I thought you didn't try, and that… maybe you could've saved her if you tried more." Jane flinched and looked away, breath catching in her throat. Jane knew Clementine had been mad at her, of course, but hearing her say it out loud felt like a slap in the face. "But I'm not mad at you now," she proceeded quickly, "and I know you were scared. It's okay. I was, too. If I really wanted to save her, I could've jumped down myself. But I… I guess I knew it was now or later. She… she was never going to make it," she added sadly.

Jane nodded acceptance, though several more tears slid down her cheeks before she could wipe them off, and she struggled to quell a soft sob. "I know," she nearly whispered, fighting hard against further emotion.

"I wish she could've, though," Clementine wished quietly, directing her gaze to the floorboards as she felt tears prick her own eyes.

"Me too," replied Jane even quieter.

The duo sat in human silence for a few minutes as both girls composed themselves. The only sound to be heard in that amount of time was the rustling of leaves on the trees outside as the wind lightly brushed them against each other. If they listened closely, they could also hear the faint inhales and exhales of their companions as they quietly slept in the main room.

"I shouldn't have come back," Jane muttered, almost forgetting Clem was beside her. "I knew this would happen. Someone I cared about was going to die, and I wouldn't be able to help them. I knew it would happen sooner or later. That's why I stay by myself... That's why I left... God, I should've just kept to myself."

"But I'm glad you came back," Clem replied simply. "I was sad when you left. I missed you."

Jane glanced over at her companion and seemed to study her a moment before her lips formed an appreciative smile. "Thanks, Clem. It's proved to be painful, but... I guess I'm glad as well. I missed you, too. And thanks for understanding earlier."

Clementine replied with a smile and affectionately leaned her head on Jane's shoulder. Again, human silence proceeded, and the two sat comfortably for a few minutes, each lost in thought.

"I miss Lee," sighed Clementine, almost forgetting there was another soul in the room.

"Sounds like he was a great guy," Jane remarked sincerely, glancing over at Clem. "He seemed to take good care of you, based on what you've said."

"He was," she responded, almost inaudibly. "And he did." Slightly louder, she continued, "I wish you could've met him."

"Me too," came her simple reply. After a moment's silence, she added, "Makes me miss my parents… and sister."

"I miss my parents, too… And a lot of other people, like Carley and Ben and Sarita and Sarah, and even Lily."

Though Jane didn't know who all of those people were, she knew they must've meant something to Clem. "I miss a lot of people, too," she exhaled, thinking of all the people she had loved, and still did love. Her mother, father, sister, best friend… And although she wouldn't openly admit it to everyone, she even missed her dog.

"I miss Pete, too, even though I didn't really know him that well. Nick too. But I… I wish I wouldn't have had to see him as a zombie… It was scary."

"I know," comforted Jane sympathetically. "That must've been hard. But you… did what you had to do. He's not suffering anymore."

Clementine just nodded, lost in thought. "And Luke," she added sorrowfully, his death and his last few moments fresh in her mind. "I miss Luke a lot. I wish we could've said goodbye."

A tense moment of silence ensued as Jane's breath caught in her throat again. Clementine instantly began to regret mentioning his name. A second more of human silence elapsed before the older woman broke down and burst into uncontrolled tears. Alarmed at the sudden outburst and feeling guilty for setting her off, Clementine started crying, too.

"I—I'm sorry, Jane! I didn't mean to make you feel bad," the young girl sniffled, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay… Clem..." she managed in between sobs, fighting hard to steady her breathing enough to speak. "You didn't… mean to… I know… you miss him, too."

"He… he was my friend," she sniffed. "And yours too, right?"

"… Yeah," Jane choked after a short pause, calming herself enough to speak. "I… I really liked him. I mean, I've seen plenty of people die in the past few years, but… it hasn't hurt this bad in a while."

"I'm sorry," Clem whispered with sincerity. "He cared about you, too, Jane."

"Dammit," was her quiet reply, tears resuming despite her efforts to hold them back. She paused a moment and again took a few deep breaths. "God," she exhaled with a humorless chuckle, choking on another sob as she wiped her eyes with her sleeve, "look at me. We're in the middle of a damn zombie apocalypse, and I'm sitting here bawling my eyes out over a man. If you would'a told me three years ago that I'd be here doing… this crap in the middle of the apocalypse, I would've laughed my ass off. Unbelievable."

Clementine laughed lightly. "But it's okay," she continued more seriously. "Luke was a good person… He saved my life a bunch of times, and I tried to save his yesterday… But I couldn't, and now I really miss him."

At that, Jane's shoulders began shaking again in a valiant effort to subdue the oncoming emotion, but she didn't know how much longer she could hold it together. "It's okay… I know you tried, and that's all anyone could do. I wish I could've helped, too, but the ice was too thin, and he was already hurt… God, I can't believe he's gone. I should've said something before, told him how I felt… And I should've dove in and tried to save him, or tried to find another way across… But I didn't, and now… I'm so sorry, Luke," she choked, "I'm so sorry…"

Consumed by grief and forgetting the fact that the other woman wasn't big on physical contact, the eleven-year-old instinctively lunged forward to embrace her friend, sniveling into the front of her shirt. Jane hesitated only a moment before hugging the girl back, allowing hot tears to stream down her face and painful sobs to shake her shoulders.

After a few minutes, their heart-wrenching sobs reduced to infrequent shudders, yet the two remained in their comfortable embrace.. Jane leaned her head against the wall beside her, Clementine's head resting gently on her side. She lightly grasped one of Clementine's hands in hers, and gently stroked the girl's curly hair with the other. With her free hand, Clem gently rubbed Jane's back the way her mother used to, years ago, when she was hurt or upset.

"So, you made it with Luke, huh?" Clementine teased after several minutes of silence.

Jane coughed in slight surprise. "Clem!" she scolded, though more out of shock than a desire to rebuke. "Do you even know what that means?"

"Of course I do!" she replied with feigned indigence. "It's like… gross kissing stuff," she answered, scrunching up her nose in disgust. "And baby stuff…. Like Alvin and Rebecca.."

Despite her lingering sadness, the older woman laughed through her tears, a genuine smile on her face. "Yeah, I guess I did… 'make it'… with Luke, then," she snickered in amusement.

"What was it like?" she continued innocently. "Did you like it?"

"God, Clem!" she laughed, choking again in surprise. "I think you're, uh, a little too young for us to, uh, be talking about this," she stammered awkwardly.

The girl furrowed her brow and acted angry. "I'm almost twelve!" she protested, feigning a glare up at her friend.

"Maybe in a couple years," laughed Jane. "I'll tell ya' then, okay? But, uh, I'm not saying I didn't enjoy it…"

"Ewww!" Clem exclaimed, again scrunching her nose in aversion. "Gross!"

"Hey, you asked, kid," she retorted, smirking at the eleven-year-old.

The two continued their friendly banter until the conversation shifted to reminiscence of their lives before the apocalypse, and the waterworks began again. Growing increasingly fatigued and nearly cried out, they soon fell into human silence, still lounged comfortably in a friendly embrace. Occasionally, one's tears would increase and a sob or two escaped, but when that occurred, one would squeeze the other's hand and silently let it pass. Jane would stroke Clem's hair, and Clem would nuzzle her head into Jane's side. Eventually they both became sleepy, and soon enough, they had drifted off into the most peaceful slumber either of them had had in a while.