"I'm sorry Clementine," said Christa as Clem settled next to her. "I'm sorry I haven't been there for you lately."

"It's not your fault," said Clem. "They won't let us stay together during the day."

"No, I mean before this. Ever since Omid died I just haven't been good to you. No matter how bad things get, it's no excuse for treating you like that."

"It's okay," assured Clem.

"No it's not," insisted Christa. "I just want you to know, I'm here for you now though. For as much as I can be in this place."

"Why?" asked a weary Clem.

"What?" asked Christa, confused by Clem's question.

"Why?" repeated Clem. "Why are you taking care of me?"

"What? I told you. Lee wanted me and Omid to take care of you. I know he's gone but—"

"If Lee hadn't asked you, would you still take care of me?"

"Of course I would," assured a guilt-ridden Christa. "Clem, I'm so sorry about how I've acted. I—"

"I'm not mad at you Christa."

"Then, what?"

"I'm just wondering. Why do you want to help me? What makes me so special?"

"Clementine," spoke a heartbroken Christa. "How could you even think you're not worth caring for?"

"Because I'm not," answered Clem in a grim tone. "Not any more than anyone else. Probably less actually. I don't know a whole lot, and I can't do a lot either. Wouldn't it be better if Lee was here, instead of me?"

"No, Clem, you're such a good person. You're a brave, smart, wonderful girl, and I wouldn't trade you for anything."

"Why not? Lee was brave. Braver than me. He was smarter too. And even if he did some bad things, he was a good person too. If he was here right now, he could do a lot more than me. Maybe you would have never been caught if he was here instead of me."

"Clementine, the reason you're here is because that's what Lee wanted. That's why he came after you."

"He shouldn't have."

"Clementine," scolded Christa. "Why would you even say that?"

"Because he shouldn't have," repeated an aggravated Clem. "What makes my life more important than his? Because I'm a kid? Kids aren't important. Not anymore."

"You really think that?" asked Christa in disbelief.

"Yeah, I do," admitted Clem.

"Then why do you keep helping Sarah?"

"What?"

"She's a kid. And from the sounds of things you've helped her a lot."

"Well… that's… that's different."

"How?"

"She's… she's not a kid. She's thirteen. That makes her a teenager."

"I see. So if Sarah was your age, you wouldn't help her."

"No, I'd still help Sarah if she was nine."

"Why? She'd be a kid and wouldn't be important."

"I don't care if she's important. I like her. She's nice to me. She listens to me, and helps me, and makes me feel better—" Clem felt Christa's hand slide up her arm and to her face, tenderly caressing Clem's cheek.

"Sounds like someone I know," smiled Christa.

"So, I'm important to you," concluded Clem. "It doesn't mean kids are important."

"Children are very important Clem. They always have been."

"Why?"

"Because children mean a future Clementine. I know that sounds cliché, but it's true. If people stopped taking care of children, eventually there'd be no people at all, and then it really would be the end of the world. Things are bad now, but they won't always be, and that's when the world will need people like you."

"Like me?"

"Good kids who grew up to be good people who will help make things better."

"You really think I'd make a difference?"

"Of course," assured Christa. "You've already made a big difference in my life. You stood up to me and stopped me from making a mistake back when I wanted to leave the others. You did it way back in Crawford when I wanted to leave Ben, another kid who needed help. And you did it again at the lodge, when I was thinking about shooting Carlos."

"Would you really have shot him right in front of Sarah?" asked a concerned Clem.

"I won't lie Clem, I really wanted to, and seeing Sarah didn't do much to change that. I actually wanted to start yelling about everything Carlos had done to us, make her realize what an awful man he was before I killed him," confessed an ashamed Christa.

"Then you spoke up, and so did Walter, made me realize just how crazy I was acting. You risked your life trying to find Nick and Matthew. You freed yourself when you were hurt. You've done so much and you're still just a girl. So never think for a moment you're not important. You're a wonderful girl who's going to grow up to be a great woman someday."

"What if I don't grow up?"

"Clementine…"

"What if it's like Mick said, and this is as good as it's going to get? What if kids just don't get to grow up anymore?"

"I don't think this is as good as it's going to get."

"But what if it is?" asked Clem. "If you knew things would never get better, and kids don't get to grow up anymore, would you still take care of me?"

"Yes Clem," answered Christa without hesitation.

"Even if you knew I wouldn't live long enough to be a grown-up?"

"I'm going to do everything I can to make sure you do grow up."

"Even though it could be impossible?"

"I'd rather die trying to protect you, then live the rest of my life without you."

"Really?" asked Clem, surprised by the emotion in Christa's voice.

"Yes, really." Christa turned to look Clem in the eye, guilt hanging on her face. "Clementine, I want to tell you something."

"Okay."

"This is something I never told Omid."

"What?"

"When we were in Savannah, trying to find you, we got trapped in the attic of that house we were staying in," explained Christa. "While Omid was working on getting us out, Kenny was passing around a bottle of whiskey he found, and he offered it to me, not knowing I was pregnant."

"Why can't you drink when you're pregnant?"

"Because drinking alcohol can hurt a baby. But I took that bottle anyway."

"Why? Did you, want, to hurt your baby?"

"I wanted to kill it Clem," admitted an ashamed Christa.

"Why?" asked a surprised Clementine.

"Because I was thinking the same thing you were talking about now. That there was no way I could raise a child in a world as horrible as this."

"Oh…" Clementine thought about everything she just said, not even thinking about how it applied to Christa's baby as well.

"You want to know what changed my mind?"

"What?"

"You did."

"Me?"

"Yes Clem. Seeing you, sitting by that tree, knowing that against all odds, you escaped Savannah, and were still alive, made me realize just how selfish I was. That I would rather kill Omid and I's child before it was even born, just because it might die later. After we found you, I told myself, I wouldn't do that again. That I wouldn't just give up on the world before it was over." Clem looked at Christa, noting the regret in her eyes.

"Then I won't either," promised Clementine. "And I'm sorry if it sounded like I was just now."

"It's okay Clem. Like I said, I've had my own doubts. It's not easy to—oh!"

"What?"

"The baby's kicking."

"Really?"

"Yeah, you wanna feel it?"

"Sure." Christa pulled her shirt up, allowing Clem to place her hand on the woman's belly.

"I… I really can feel it moving." Clem could feel the slight bumps coming from inside Christa's stomach and found herself almost giddy as she awaited another kick.

"God I hope it's healthy. I'm still worried I gave it birth defects from drinking that stuff back in Savannah. Not to mention none of us have been eating all that healthy lately."

"It feels healthy," commented Clem as she placed both hands on Christa's stomach. "I wonder what will happen when it comes out."

"I don't know Clem, this really doesn't strike me as a good place to raise children," said Christa. "Hopefully someone in here cares about a baby other than us."

"I'll help you," promised Clem.

"I know you will Clem," smiled Christa. "For now, let's just get some sleep. It's been a really long day."

"Actually, can I ask you one last thing?"

"What is it?"

"I think I heard another new swear word today, but I'm not sure."

"Ugh, what that horrible woman say this time?"

"It wasn't Consuelo. If you don't want me to say it—"

"Just say it Clem."

"Spooning."

"Where'd you hear that?" asked an amused Christa.

"Mick said Sarah and I were doing that this morning."

"Sounds like he was just messing with you."

"So it is a swear word?"

"No, it's not a swear Clem."

"Well, what is it then?"

"Spooning is just when you grab onto someone you care about while they're sleeping."

"Like I'm doing?" Christa looked down at Clem, clinging to her belly.

"Yeah, in a sense. You could maybe say that."

"I like it."