WARNING: This story contains heavy foul language, detailed death, implied sexual content, and an extreme amount of feels. I DO NOT own The Walking Dead, any of the mentioned characters in this story, or "You" (because apparently it's illegal to kidnap people and keep them in your basement).

Chapter Three

Dumber Than A Bag Of Hammers

Your P.O.V.

The car ride was long, and full of chatter between you, Cry, and Shawn. Clementine was quiet for the most part, though she did pipe up here and there. You and Cry got to know Shawn really well, and... also got to know each other really well. You'd always thought Cry was funny on the internet, but holy shit, Cry had you holding your sides with tears coming out of your eyes from laughter in person. And seeing you laugh, for some reason, brought a big smile to his face. It was comforting to have something to be happy about. After the extremely long day you'd had, you didn't think you'd be able to laugh for at least a couple days. But you did, and thank God for that.

Being in the truck also made you feel safe. It comforted you to know that no monsters could get in while you guys were driving. So when the car began to slow, and eventually parked in the driveway of a small farm, you didn't feel so good about getting out. However, Cry had given you a reassuring smile, and Clementine squeezed your hand. This... somehow comforted you. You'd squeezed Clementine's hand back and smiled at Cry before slipping out of the car.

The outside world was dark, and dozens of stars decorated the sky. There was a cool breeze that brushed against your skin, which felt good against your warm flesh. ...It also stung against your wound, so you weren't too happy about that.

You were expecting Cry to try to pick you up again, but instead, he pulled one of your arms around his shoulders, and you leaned against him for support. Slowly, the two of you had made your way around the car, and were soon face-to-face with Shawn, and an older man with white hair. The man eyed you up and down, though his face wasn't unfriendly.

"I see you've brought a couple guests," The old man commented to Shawn, who you assumed was the man's son. You noticed Chet had disappeared, but after looking around, you saw his figure disappearing into the shadows, making his way to a different house just a little ways away.

"Yeah. Dad, this is Cry and [Your Name]. Guys, this is my Dad, Hershel Greene."

"Pleased to meet you, sir." Cry said respectfully, putting his hand out. Hershel lightly smiled and accepted it, but then pulled away.

"'Cry', eh? That's a strange name for a boy. Or for any gender, really."

You curiously looked up to Cry, but the emotion on his face (or on the part of his face that you could see) was unphased.

"My friends call me that. It's been my nick name for... many years." Cry replied.

"And your real name?" Hershel asked.

There was silence. Nothing came from Hershel, or Cry. Awkwardness began to fill the air. So, quickly, you turned to Hershel.

"H-Hershel, your son said you could help me out with my leg..."

Hershel shifted his gaze to you, then let his eyes flick to your leg. He blinked.

"Yes, I noticed that. I'd be more than happy to help."

A relieved smile washed across your face. You were happy he didn't press Cry's name.

"Oh, thank you!" You grinned. "It really hurts."

"Well, let's see what I can do," Hershel said. He looked to his son. "Go check on your sister, will you, Shawn? And see if she'll lend [Your Name] here a pair of jeans? They look to be about the same size." He then looked back to you. "It'd probably be best if you were to wear pants for a little while. You know... to help prevent this sort of thing."

You nodded. "Yeah... shorts are not what I usually wear, anyway. I'd be more than happy for a pair of jeans. ...Thank you."

Shawn smiled, and then extended a hand. You gratefully took it, flashing Cry a smile as you slid away from him. Cry didn't look very pleased... for some reason, his mouth gave that emotion away. But he said nothing, and instead, turned and mumbled something to Clementine. Your smile faltered. You turned back to Hershel, and after getting up onto the porch, sat down on seat. Hershel sat on the seat in front of it, and after lifting your leg onto his lap, began to clean it up.

"Let's see what we got here..." Hershel mumbled.

You winced as he touched the wound, but refrained from crying out (as you had been all that day). As Hershel worked, he made small talk. Cry and Clementine had made their way onto the porch, but stayed on the opposite side, having a conversation of their own, until the old man suddenly interrupted them. He looked over his shoulder.

"I didn't catch your name, darlin'." He said to Clementine.

Clementine hesitated. "Clementine..." She replied.

Hershel smiled, before looking back to your leg, and continuing to work. "Well, Clementine, you're lucky you have your parents here. I heard it's not so good down in the city right now."

Your eyes widened. Again? You nervously chuckled.

"O-Oh, she's not our child." You said. "Cry and I actually... aren't even together."

"Ah, good." Hershel sighed, relieved. "For a moment, I thought you'd been one of those teenage moms they talk about a lot on the television."

A blush coded your face. "No." You answered.

"A bunch of crap, that is. Seems that good television is rare, these days." Hershel stopped. Then looked up to you. "So, what is your guys' relationship with this girl? Cousins? Baby-sitter, perhaps?"

Cry sounded from behind Hershel. "Mr. Greene, sir, if we're honest, we only just met this child today."

"Strangers?" Hershel asked. "Well, you seem to be doing this girl well, for a couple of people who don't know her."

"We're trying." You said softly.

There was a moment of silence. You watched as Hershel did the last of the bandages around your wound, on your bare leg. You winced, but the pain didn't hurt as bad as before. When he was finished, he taped it together and looked up to you, giving you a smile.

"Alright. Your leg should be fine for tonight, but tomorrow, it's going to need more attention. We wanna fix this problem before it gets any worse."

Any worse... You thought. "A-And... if it does?"

Hershel smirked. "We'll probably just have to shoot you."

Your eyes widened. From behind, Clementine and Cry's jaws dropped. Hershel suddenly broke into a fit of laughter.

"We'll clean it, stitch it, redress it, and it'll be good as new."

The three of you gave a relieved sigh, but Cry was the next to speak.

"Okay," He sighed. "That'd be preferable."

You lifted your eyes to meet Cry's gaze... and then came up with looking at the eye-holes of his mask, instead. It was frustrating to want to look at someone's eyes, and have them not be there. You wouldn't say anything, of 'course. Cry's mask was part of what made Cry who he was. You weren't going to ruin that. ...Not that Cry would take off his mask for you, anyway. He wouldn't do it for the millions of begging fans, so he especially wouldn't do it for you.

Shawn walked through the front door, and you eyed the pair of dark-blue jeans in his arms. He flashed you a smile before walking up to you and handing you the pair.

"Here..." He said softly. You looked up to him and smiled.

"Thanks, Shawn." You spoke. A small blush spread across his cheeks, but he was quick to clear his throat and back away. Cry stood up from where he sat and crossed his arms, but remained silent.

"So, Dad," Shawn turned to his father. "I'm thinking; first thing tomorrow? We reinforce the fence surrounding the property. There's some dangerous stuff out there, and I don't want it getting through."

"That won't be necessary, Shawn." Hershel argued, as he began to pack up the stuff he had used to treat your leg. "Those kind of things don't happen around here. It ain't really like how they say it is on the TV."

"What? Yes it is!" Shawn argued. "Come on, [Your Name]... Cry... Tell them what you saw out there, guys."

You didn't speak. However, Cry did. "A bunch of rotting bodies eager to get their hands on human flesh," He said. "Most fucked up thing I've ever seen."

Clementine flinched at the swear. You glared at Cry. Cry bit his lip, then mouthed an apology.

"Well, if you really think it's a good idea, you can use the extra wood planks we have." Hershel sighed.

"I'm telling you, it's the right thing to do, Dad." Shawn nodded. "Maybe we can get the people in the barn to help. They said they'd like to do some work as a way to thank us for letting them stay here-"

"Shawn." Hershel snapped. He turned around and looked up to his son. "I said, 'okay'."

Shawn went silent, but gave a small nod. Hershel got to his feet, and then pulled you up with him. You gave him a grateful, soft thanks before limping over to Cry and Clementine. Clementine smiled at you, and Cry gave you a nod as he slipped his arm around you again. You leaned into him for the support.

You looked back to Hershel, who looked to you guys. He smiled.

"Another family arrived here earlier," He said. "They're in the barn. You can join them. There should be some room left in there. In the morning, you can figure out where you're going to head off, next."

Cry smiled. "Thanks so much, sir. That means a lot to us."

Hershel cracked a tiny smile of his own. "Sure thing... 'Cry'..."

"Hey. Wake up, Princess."

The familiar tone gently called you, pulling you into the world of consciousness. Your [eye color] eyes slowly fluttered open, and, again, you came face-to-face with the poker-faced mask. You blinked, before stiffling a small, soft yawn. Cry chuckled.

"Sleep well?" He asked. You gave a slow nod.

"Better than the last time I was able to sleep..." You mumbled. You blinked open your eyes again, after keeping them closed for a moment, and looked up to him.

"Is 'Princess' going to be a nick-name, Cry?" You asked, raising an eyebrow. Cry grinned.

"Why not? With all the princess-styled carrying I've been doing lately, I'd say you earned the nick-name."

"Ugh." You gave a playful groan, before pulling yourself into a sitting position. Cry was seated beside you, as he was the first time you'd woken up with him as your company.

The barn was big, able to keep several cows and horses inside, each of which was still in their stalls, some sleeping and some waiting for their breakfast. Several bales of hay were stacked here and there, and straw covered practically everything in sight. Across from you, Clementine was standing, itching her clothes. She looked to you and smiled as you got yourself to your feet. Cry was up in a matter of seconds.

"Morning!" She laughed.

You chuckled. "Good morning!" You smiled. "Sleep well, Clem?"

From behind Clem, coming through the wide-open doors of the barn, you watched with a curious gaze as someone new stepped inside. It was a man, neither Shawn, Hershel, or even Chet. This man was different. He was built tall, with a paleish-yellow shirt, worn and torn blue jeans, and a green ball-cap that fit snug atop his head. He had a mustache below his nose and a friendly expression on his face.

You liked him instantly.

"Well, hi there!" The man spoke for the first time, a redneck-like accent spilling from his lips. From beside you, Cry, who had just noticed the new man, suddenly gave a wide smile.

"Hi!" He said, enthusiastically.

"Hope you didn't have a problem sleepin' in the barn, like I did." The new man laughed. "Ah, I felt like I couldn' get'n ounce-a sleep in there."

"I slept fine," Clementine announced. "But I'm all itchy."

The man laughed. "Well, you slept in a barn, little lady." He told Clem. "You're lucky you don't have spiders in your hair."

Clementine looked absolutely horrified. She gasped and felt her hair. You couldn't help yourself from lightly keeling over as you laughed. Beside you, Cry loudly chuckled.

The man chuckled again, too, before looking to you and Cry.

"My name's Kenny," The man started. "Ya'll got names yourselves, don'tcha?"

Cry nodded. "I'm Cry." He replied. "My friend here is [Your Name], and the little one is Clementine. ...Before you ask, no, we're not a family. The three of us all just met yesterday."

"Oh, I see." Kenny laughed. "Well, then! I-"

"Dad!" A sudden voice called out. Your eyes flicked to the barn's entrance. Against the wall, a little boy stood. His eyes were big, brown, and bright, and his smile was wide. He looked enthusiastic, and ready to take on the world. He had messy brown hair atop his head and worn clothing, just like Kenny.

"They're gonna build a fence!" The little boy continued, hardly able to contain his excitement. "There's a tractor and everything!"

Kenny laughed. "Okay, okay, Duck. Let's go."

"Yeah!" The boy... apparently named Duck, cheered and ran off. You eyed Kenny curiously, an amused smile forming on your lips. The same expression was on Cry's face. Kenny walked out of the barn, and the two of you followed (with Clementine, of 'course).

"That was my boy, Ken Junior." Kenny explained. "We call him Duck, though."

Cry chuckled. "Dodging, or quacking, Ken?"

Kenny laughed. "Quacking. The boy has the shortest attention span in the world. ...And luckily, he's able to brush things off real easy. Like 'water off a duck's back', you know."

"I see." You replied. "He's very... cute."

"Thanks." Kenny said.

As the two of you walked, you eventually came to the house. Just outside, sitting upon the porch steps, a bigger woman with medium-sized blonde hair and blue eyes watched you approach. Duck was beside her. She had a friendly smile on her face, and her eyes lit up when she saw Clementine.

"Katjaa, meet my friends, Cry and [Your Name]. And this is Clementine."

Katjaa looked to Clementine. "Clementine," She repeated. Her tone was... German? You couldn't tell. "That's a very beautiful name."

Clementine, who was hidden behind you, lightly smiled. "Thanks." She said shyly.

Shawn, who had just come out the front door, made his way down the porch steps (avoiding Katjaa) and came to the small group's side.

"I'm totally gonna start that fence, today." Shawn said.

Duck giggled. "I wanna help!"

Shawn beamed, and tussled the boy's hair. "Well, I need a good foreman. You can sit on the tractor and yell at me whenever I take a water break."

"On the tractor?" Duck gasped. "Cool!"

Shawn grinned, and looked up to Cry. "You can help too, if you want." ...Then, he looked to you. "And [Your Name], feel free to help me any time you want."

At first, you were fine, but as soon as Shawn gave that half-smile and gave a secretive wink, you felt your face grow hot. You quickly tore your gaze away from his and stared down at the ground.

"Okay, sure..." You mumbled awkwardly.

Shawn grinned and walked away, Duck quickly following. You looked up again, but this time, it was Katjaa, who was the next to speak.

"You can leave your little girl with me for a bit," She said, smiling friendly. "We can visit."

You nodded, before turning to Cry. "Sound okay with you?" You asked.

"Hmm?" Cry asked. He'd been looking... or glaring, rather... in the direction Shawn had gone... but he quickly looked back to you. Then to Clem.

"Oh!" He cleared his throat. "Uhh, yeah, that's fine."

"I like you, Cry," Kenny suddenly piped up, stepping between you guys and Katjaa. "And you, [Your Name]. I mean, Cry, you've got a strange name, but hey, so do a lot of people."

Cry chuckled. Kenny continued.

"We're heading up to Macon, once I get my truck fixed." Kenny said. "It's a six-seater. Enough to fit my family, and yours. ...Well, if you consider your little group here a family. I don't know. Anyway, if you were heading up that way, we could give you a ride." He paused. "Besides, I could use a guy who can... knock a couple heads together if he has to. What do you say?"

You looked up to Cry, who was widely smiling. He nodded. "That seems like a great offer, Kenny." He replied. "However, I gotta talk it over with Clementine. Oh, and [Your Name], too." Cry stole a quick glance in your direction as he spoke your name. Kenny nodded.

"Ah. Gotta consult the missus. I understand. Well, I'm going to go work on the truck. Feel free to pop on by if you wanna chat."

"Sure, Ken." Cry spoke confidently. You watched as Kenny head off in a different direction. By now, Katjaa and Clementine were wrapped up in their own conversation, so that only left you and Cry. Cry turned to you.

"What do you think, [Your Name]? Should we head up to Macon with Kenny?"

You considered it. Was there really a point in going to Macon? You didn't have any family or friends up there. In fact, you... didn't have anyone. You'd lived in an orphanag, growing up.

There was nothing left for you back where you lived. The only thing you wanted was to be sure Clementine and Cry were safe. The world was dangerous, and... infected with those... things. Whatever they were. You had to make sure that the two people you'd come to accept as your friends were okay. Besides... since this outbreak... you weren't sure if you'd had many friends left.

"[Your Name]?" Cry's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. You felt his hand rest on your shoulder. Your face heated in a blush, thought you weren't sure why. You looked back up at him. If you could see through his mask, you would have seen concern on his face.

"Are you sick?" He asked. "I kinda lost you for a second."

"N-No," You said. "I'm not sick, just... thinking. I think going to Macon sounds like a good idea, Cry. There must be something there that can help us get through this." You paused... then looked down to the hand on your shoulder. Cry flushed and quickly took his hand away. You looked at the ground... before back up to him. "But it's important that we talk to Clementine about it, first. She's been going through a lot lately."

"That's a good idea." Cry nodded and looked to Clementine. "Not now, though. She looks busy." He looked back to you. "Listen, I'm going to go find Hershel, and see if he can do anything extra to your leg. Okay? It's good that we make sure that your wound is going to be okay."

You slowly nodded. "Okay, Cry." You replied.

Cry smiled. "Okay." He said. "You should probably go make friends with Kenny. It was nice of him to offer us a ride to... what was it, Macon? Anyway, it's probably going to be good for us to make connections until the world starts turning again."

You quickly nodded. "I agree. Sounds good. I'll do that. And maybe I'll make friends with Shawn, too."

Suddenly, Cry's mouth curved downward, and you imagined him frowning. "Don't go near Shawn."

You blinked. "Why?"

He huffed. "Just don't, Princess. Trust me."

You felt your face grow hot at the nick name. You crossed your arms. "Cry!"

He chuckled at your reaction, before patting your shoulder. "What? You know you like it."

"I do no-"

He didn't wait for you to finish. He turned and began to walk away, heading off toward the direction of the barn. Your face was still flushed. You continued to cross your arms, but now, you turned, and made your way toward Kenny and his truck.

Cry's P.O.V.

Shawn wasn't a bad guy. In fact, I had a lot of respect for him. He was a hard-working boy who loved his father, and only wanted to help people. He saved our lives. But each time he got a little too close to [Your Name], or flirted with her like how he did a bit ago, I suddenly feel like I want to get her as far away from him as possible. ...But why?

It's crazy. She was in my thoughts during the parts of the night that I couldn't sleep. And in my dreams, she was there, with a healed leg. She was running around and laughing, like the side of her that I imagine I haven't met yet, because of the circumstances.

I was upset when I woke, but then, I was happy, because I realized that the same person who invaded my thoughts was asleep beside me. She seemed to peaced while she slept... as if this whole fucking thing wasn't happening to the world. I really liked [Your Name]... and... if I'm honest... I hope she sticks around for a long while.

The barn was the first place I was heading. I knew that Hershel would be in there. Gut feeling. And as I walked in, I discovered I was right. There was the old man – shoveling hay with a shovel. I didn't have to say anything for him to notice me. As soon as I walked in, his eyes were on me. He didn't stop what he was doing, but he was the first to speak.

"Get bored of your little girl? Or your girlfriend?" Hershel asked.

My face flushed. Thank God I was wearing my mask.

"She's not my girlfriend." I started. I got a sarcastic hum from Hershel, but I ignored that. "And no, actually, I wasn't bored. I came to see if you needed any help around the barn. Kenny's fixing his truck, and we're going to head out once it's ready."

"Ah." Hershel replied. "No, I don't need any help." He paused, stopping his work as he stared at his shovel. Then, sighing, he continued. "Never was the plan, having a farm like this."

I hummed. "It's nice."

Hershel scoffed. "Yeah, well, if you'd told me that this would be what I was doing for the next twenty years, I would have told you that you were full of crap."

"Well, I like it!" I said, my tone reassuring. "It's a nice place. Successful."

Hershel stopped, and raised his eyes to meet my face. He looked suddenly frustrated. I couldn't blame him. Everyone who saw me with my mask on did that, when they'd look up and expect to see my eyes. I watched as Hershel stabbed his shovel into the hay.

"Can I give you a word of advice, boy?" He asked.

I blinked. "Sure..." I said. "Fire away."

Hershel's eyebrows narrowed. "I don't know who you are, or what you do." He huffed. "I sure as hell don't know why you keep that mask over your face. But let me tell you something."

Oh boy.

"When someone asks for your name, your real name, you give it. The world is going to shit, 'Cry'. And if you're going to make it, you've gotta rely on the honesty of strangers. ...But at least you have enough sense to listen to an old man when he wants to give you advice."

I slowly nodded. I opened my mouth to speak, but I was suddenly interrupted by a loud, ear-piercing scream. My eyes widened. Without another word to Hershel, I spun around and began to run off in the scream's direction. Behind me, I heard Hershel yell,

"Go! I'll get my gun!"

I sprinted through the area, looking left and right for Clementine and [Your Name]. I had to make sure they were safe. I had to protect them. I had to.

As I continued to run, I eventually came upon a group of people. I slowed my pace as I approached... and as I arrived... my heart pounded. [Your Name] was struggling to pull the tractor off of Shawn's leg, which was wedged between it's tires, and the ground. Monsters were hanging over the half-finished fence. Shawn was screaming, trying his best to keep them away. Kenny was watching, a crying Duck in his arms. [Your Name] called for Kenny, but Kenny turned and sprinted off. My eyes widened at the man's choice.

"Fucking asshole!" I whispered. I sprinted forward and came to [Your Name]'s side. She looked up to me, her expression terrified.

"Cry!" She gasped. "I-I can't get the tractor off! The key is jammed, and it's too heavy to move!"

I gasped. "O-Okay. Try to keep the monsters away from Shawn! I'll move the tractor!"

She nodded, and we switched places. I tried to pull the tractor off with several attempts, but it was too heavy. It wouldn't budge. I continued to try, but at [Your Name]'s scream, I stopped. I turned to her, and watched as a monster held a tight grip on her forearm, ready to sink it's teeth into her arm.

I gasped, and yelled her name, before running over and grabbing her stomach. I pulled backward, and with enough strength, her arm slipped away from the monster's grasp. The two of us fell backward, her knocking into me, and me landing on my ass in the dirt. We both sad up – her in my lap – and watched with absolute horror as the fence broke, and the monsters fell on a screaming Shawn.

They dug their teeth into his neck and arms, blood soaking everywhere. [Your Name] shook in my grasp. I refused to keep tears from falling from my eyes and held her against me. She struggled to free herself, so she could save him, but I held her close.

"No," I whispered in her ear. "Let him go. He won't make it."

"N-No!" [Your Name] sobbed. "No! Fuuuuuck! Shawn! SHAWN!"

Then, there was gunshots. I looked over my shoulder and spotted a crying Hershel, shotgun in his hands. He dropped the weapon once the growling and chowing monsters were dead, and made his way to his son. He knelt beside the boy and pulled him into his arms.

"S-Shawn!" He gasped. "My boy..."

Shawn weakly looked up to his father. "D-Dad... I-I'm okay... I'm okay..."

Hershel knew otherwise. He sobbed.

"C-Cry... a-and... and [Your Name]... they tried to save me... they tried..."

"I know, son... I know..." Hershel whispered.

Then, silence. I watched as Shawn's shallow breaths ceased, and his chest remained still. Hershel sighed, sobbing, and held his son close.

[Your Name] was an absolute mess in my arms. She continued to cry... and... cry. She had turned and buried her face in my shoulder. As I stood, I pulled her up with me, and held her tightly as she cried. I rested my head on her shoulder and watched Hershel.

The old man stood.

"Get out..."

I blinked, confused. I watched as he spun around, a nasty glare set on the six of us.

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!"

"I'm sorry..."

The soft apology came from Kenny. I looked over to him, taking note of how he still held Duck in his arms. Katjaa stood beside him, and on the ground beside her, Clementine. She looked terrified. I swallowed and extended an arm out to her. She was quick to approach, and once she arrived, I gave her a pat on the head. This was when [Your Name] finally let go of me and bent over, picking Clementine up and holding her in her arms. At first, Clementine looked uncomfortable, but then she relaxed and sunk into [Your Name]'s touch. [Your Name] held her tightly.

"Sorry?!" Hershel snarled, causing Clementine and Duck to flinch. "Your son is alive! You don't GET to be sorry!"

I walked forward and took [Your Name] and Clementine into my arms, before looking over to Kenny. Kenny took a moment, before looking back to me. We shared a look that said Oh, fuck.

"Just go..." Hershel continued. "GET OUT, and NEVER come back!"

Suddenly, Kenny was at my side, his hand on my shoulder. I eyed him. He eyed me. And then sighed. He gave me a sorrow-filled look.

"You've got that ride to Macon, if you want it."

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