A/N: Not a story I'm totally happy with, but it just came to me that I wanted to write it, so it happened. I thought it would be more realistic if Clementine became afraid of dogs because of that attack, even though it didn't happen in the games. Also, I didn't include AJ in the story because I feel like it would have made more sense for Clementine and Kenny to leave AJ at Wellington while the two of them go off on their own, not being accepted inside. Or maybe I was just lazy and didn't feel like including him in the story. Oh well...
"Kenny, wake up. Kenny...please."
Kenny frowned as he heard Clementine's voice hissing at him to wake up. He scowled as he was shaken into awareness by her demanding tone and insistent hands. He slapped her hands away as he shifted into a sitting position, feeling groggy. A cool, humid breeze blew through his hair, laden with the scent of soil and leaf litter. The swaying trees high above spun as he tried to regain his senses. Then his eye widened as he realized why she must be panicking.
"Walkers? Where's my-"
"Dog. It's a dog, Kenny." Clementine's expression was laced with fright. "Make it go away."
Kenny stiffened, feeling a mixture of relief and concern. She had taken hold of his arm and was holding it close, her nails digging into the flesh through his jacket.
He looked up and around to see a large dog nearby, standing and watching them curiously. It was a border collie, rather ragged and worn down. Fur matted and dirty, and its nails hadn't been trimmed in ages.
Kenny relaxed and heaved a shuddering sigh, pried Clementine's fingers loose from his arm. "Not this again... Clem, Darlin', it's nothin' to be scared of. It's just a mangy mutt, probably more scared of you than you are of it. Harmless as can be."
Clementine still clung to his jacket, clumsily hanging around his waist as Kenny struggled to stand up. "Can you just make it go away anyway? I don't want it coming close."
Kenny felt sympathy for the girl, knowing the scar she'd been left with in the wake of her attack. It looked ghastly, and it was hard for him not to shudder whenever he so much as thought of it. Turning towards her, he gently placed his hands on her shoulders, so they were seeing eye to eye. Clementine was trembling.
"Dammit, Clem. You can't be shakin' like a leaf around 'em when we got walkers to deal with." He rested a hand on her cheek and caressed it with affection. "You weren't lucky that day, that's for sure. But I told ya it was 'cause you pulled that dog's food away from him and he was starvin'. That's why he went ballistic on ya."
Clementine stared at him and released a shaky breath. "You don't get it, Kenny. Stitching my own arm was the worst thing ever. The entire time I couldn't stop feeling like it was the dog that was doing it to me. It…traumatized me."
Kenny lowered his head, feeling himself slowly cave to her request. He sighed, wondering where the brave girl he knew was at times like this. "Alright, why don't you just wait a second so I can try and make it shoo." Kenny turned back to the dog and began chasing after it. He shouted at it to leave, made it back away. He picked up a large stick and threw it in its direction, making it flinch and back up even further. Yet, to his annoyance, it still wasn't running away. In fact, it was ducking its head and looking at him with, well, puppy-dog eyes. Like it wanted something.
"Oh for fuck's sake," Kenny muttered, feeling annoyed. "It looks like it's—" He stopped himself, not wanting to worry Clementine.
"What? Probably what?" Clementine's voice rose with alarm.
Kenny laughed nervously, tried to brush off his anxiety. "I was just thinkin'...it might be a little hungry. Now don't panic," he cut in as soon as she looked about to voice her concern. "I'll just give it somethin' to keep it busy. Then we can move from here. It shouldn't follow us."
Kenny fished around for a piece of meat, one that was a good enough size that they were able to sacrifice. Finally, he found a sausage and thought for a second before deciding to toss the entire thing on the ground. The dog began eating voraciously, which gave them some time to leave while it was busy. Once they'd grabbed their belongings and began making their way away from their campsite, Kenny looked back to make sure the dog wasn't following them. To his dismay, it was indeed following them from a distance, seemingly having finished his food.
"Damn dog…" Kenny muttered. He didn't want Clementine to be under a lot of stress just because they couldn't rid themselves of a dog. He knew how much she hated being around them. She often seemed to be on the lookout for dogs whenever they camped. She used to be somewhat less frightened when she was around them with a group, but when it was just the two of them, it seemed to exacerbate her fears.
"He's following us, isn't he?" Clementine said, voice wavering.
Kenny was beginning to feel ridiculous for encouraging Clementine's fears. He felt that he should be firmer with her and not give in as easily as he had. Maybe it was time they tried to help her overcome her fear. Kenny stopped and dropped his bag on the ground. "Wait a second, Clem."
Clementine stopped and looked at him curiously. "What? Why are we stopping?"
Kenny felt like he was sure this wasn't going to be the last encounter they'd have with a dog, especially in the woods. They were lucky enough not to have seen a wolf in a long time, but dogs crossed their paths every now and then. They usually managed to stay far away most of the time, though.
"Clem, let it come. He ain't gonna hurt either of us."
"What the hell are you saying?" Clementine snapped. Her eyes flashed wild with fear. "Kenny, we need to get moving. You don't know that it won't get angry and—"
"Clem, just trust me, will you?" Kenny cut in. He reached to take hold of her hand and she stepped back, pulling away.
"Right now? Are you kidding me?! I'm not going near that thing."
It wasn't like Clementine to be this argumentative, but it seemed this was the one thing that brought out this side of her. Kenny stifled a small smile. Her reaction was almost charming. He walked towards the dog and bent down in front of it, began petting the side of its face.
"Well, I ain't gonna force ya. Just thought you might like pettin' this cute dog," Kenny said, hoping he could coax her curious side into relenting. This method might prove more successful than trying to fight with her.
"Nice try, Kenny," Clementine said dryly.
Kenny thought for a moment as he watched the smiling dog enjoy the attentive affection. "It's a damn shame seein' these poor things walking around in the woods, though. No one to take care of 'em. Just doomed to starve to death. Heartbreakin', really."
He felt regret wash over him, hating the world they were in. One that animals were deeply dependent on humans, but most had no means of being taken care of by them.
"I guess that is sad. But I try not to think about it." Clementine's voice sounded a bit aggressive, as though she was trying not to sound too concerned. "I never had a dog. I know you did, though."
Clementine sighed, and nervously toed her shoe into the dirt. She refused to look him in the eye, look at the dog.
"His name was Rex," Kenny said, smiling bitterly as he played with one of the dog's ears. "Was a crazy one. Very hyperactive, but cute as can be. He hated being touched, though. We never understood why, 'cause we never hurt him or anythin'."
"I hate coming across them anyway, because they look so sad and skinny. Like that dog that attacked. I gave it some food because I just couldn't take seeing it whine like that in front of me. Maybe I'm just too nice."
"Not at all, Clem," Kenny said, looking up at her. "Now, you are nice, but it's only natural to care for a poor defenseless creature's well-bein'. Y'know, dogs are funny, in a way. They bite ya when they're just playin' around, too. 'Specially puppies."
Kenny saw Clementine take a tentative step forward, making him arch an eyebrow at her. "Clem?"
"It...it won't bite me, right? It won't get mad?"
Kenny smiled knowingly. She had her hands clasped in front of her anxiously, but he saw the desire written on her face. He knew she couldn't hold back for too long. "'Course not," he said, waving her over. "Just relax and give it a nice pettin'. Be gentle. Nice and slow."
Clementine followed his words as she stood beside him and bent down, reaching to place a shaking hand between the dog's ears. The dog bobbed his head at the contact, making her recoil and step backward in fright.
"Clem, it's okay. It was just reactin' to your touch is all."
Clementine was breathing raggedly, but she nodded her head and forced a weak smile. "Right…right."
Kenny thought of something. He took hold of Clementine's hand and gently, slowly placed it back on the dog's head. This time, the dog didn't make any sudden movements. It just smiled happily as Kenny helped her to pet it.
"You're doin' great, Clem. See, I told ya, didn't I? Nothin' to fear."
"It's been so long since I touched a dog like this," Clementine murmured.
"Don't get too comfortable, though," Kenny said with a touch of regret. "We'll have to say bye to our new buddy soon enough."
"I wish he at least had another dog friend out here." Clementine pulled her hand away and looked at Kenny. She looked so tired, his heart ached for her and all the stress she'd had to endure in just the past few years alone. "It's just depressing."
"It is, but there ain't nothin' we can do." Kenny realized he'd said something similar to Clementine regarding the dog she'd had to kill. That nothing could have been done to save it. For a moment he wondered if dogs weren't the ones who were worse off in this apocalypse. "Well, I think we ought to be on our way. Don't know how long it'll follow us, but I guess we'll see if we can shake him loose sometime."
"Maybe he has an owner who's looking for him," Clementine suggested.
Kenny just sighed. He doubted it, and figured she felt the same—deep down.
They finally began walking again, the dog following close behind. Probably hoping for more food or attention. Kenny felt some pride for Clementine getting closer to overcoming her fear. She had taken a major step forward, and for that he was grateful.
Then again, it wasn't surprising considering what a brave girl she was. He knew he wasn't the greatest at changing his own way of thinking, but maybe—just maybe—he could learn a thing or two from his young companion.