Author's Notes: If you haven't read the first two stories in this series (Something to Fight For and Snow Crysals), I would strongly recommend it, though it is hardly a requirement if you are determined enough :P So let's get straight into it.
5:00 PM — April 18, 2027 — Inside the Savior Stronghold
Art [Clementine]
New clothes and a wash, he said. For now he'd kept his word.
When she was finished getting the grease out of her hair, Clementine dressed in plain boots, dark jeans and a loose gray shirt. They threw in a jean jacket too, though she'd be hard-pressed to call them kind for it.
Clem stepped out of the showers and waited for an escort, dreading the thought of getting used to it.
Ledge [Scott Turner]
"Now you're looking somewhat presentable."
A voice called out, which belonged to none other than Scott, who was already walking towards her. Of course, he had decided to personally show up for the girl's tour.
"Thought your mouth was going to land you in more trouble at the end there." At this point, anything must have been better than a rat infested cell.
"Still, it's good to see you out."
Art [Clementine]
That voice, polite as it often tried to be, it made her want to throw up. Like he hadn't blasted the shit out of Tripp right in front of her eyes. Clementine chewed on her lip and for once kept her mouth shut.
Not like you care.
She'd pushed them before. It wasn't smart. It hadn't been and it never was. They didn't care that she looked young—Clem knew what Negan was like; what he did when he lost control, what he would do if she disobeyed again.
That girl, Minerva? What happened to her was lucky, nothing less. If she tried to run away like her, Clem knew she'd have something much worse in store.
Felt like a waste of time to start making guesses. They knew where Ellie was. They knew where to find AJ because of her, and—and now she had to fix it. Somehow.
Clementine wrapped an arm around her chest and forced herself to speak. "Thank you." She swallowed all of her pride, pursed her lips, and looked Scott dead in the eye. "Sir."
Ledge [Scott Turner]
Dr. Turner raised an eyebrow, ever so slightly.
That cell must've done wonders, when it came to her attitude, even if it probably was just for show. Right now, he didn't really care, as long as she stayed out of Negan's firing line.
"Well, follow me." He continued, already walking down the hallway, with the expectation that she would tail him. "We don't have all day." There was a lot to go through, with little time to do it in.
He took the purposefully long route, only so Clementine would see everyone going about their daily routine. Not unlike anything she would've seen at Jackson, or most other peaceful communities.
That was the point.
This next part, however, would probably be new.
They came to a stop in the courtyard, where several walkers and infected could be seen, tied up along the fence line. Still very much alive, but also dead. Their hungered groans and screeches reached their ears.
A man in an orange jumpsuit could be seen. Trying to wrestle a walker towards the fence, while two heavily armed soldiers watched him, barking orders.
"Not the most pleasant sight, is it?" He spoke, while still keeping his gaze ahead.
Art [Clementine]
She followed him in short, hasty steps that only made her seem afraid of being left behind. Clementine knew better than to be caught wandering alone through the halls.
There wasn't much to see. That place—so much of it looked drab and dull, full of creeps prancing around in their ugly leather clothes. It wasn't until they reached the courtyard that she paused for a glance, and felt color be drained right out of her face. "What the fuck is that?"
Ledge [Scott Turner]
"They're used as a deterrent, mainly." People were less likely to get in through the compound's walls when there was a layer of undead to get through first. Surely, it wouldn't be that hard for her to understand. "Like I said. Not as pleasant as Jackson, but definitely more effective.
"Get a good look, since this is what your first job is going to revolve around."
Art [Clementine]
Clementine felt her limbs go numb.
She stared at him, like you'd stare at someone telling an awful joke. But that guy, Scott… he didn't do jokes.
The girl stood absolutely still and nodded her agreement, hiding the horror in her eyes behind a false sense of obligation.
Ledge [Scott Turner]
If there was ever an urge to roll his eyes, now was definitely it. He withheld however, as he did with most things.
"You won't have to do what that prisoner over there is." Granted, what she was actually assigned to was what they gave the lowest level workers, the ones who were only one bad move away from landing themselves back in the rat hole. "I just mean you might have to help collect some walkers or infected for the fence, along with a few other jobs." He wasn't going to delve into specifics, she was smart enough to pick it up along the way. "They start getting better, if you prove yourself, eventually." He let the silence linger, maybe for a tad too long.
"Also, don't think I've forgotten about Jackson." He turned to face her, crossing his arms. It was a shame that the lessons got cut short due to unforeseen circumstances, but now was the time to make up for it. "We'll be picking up where we left off with your training."
Art [Clementine]
She sighed in what sounded like relief, feeling her heartbeat blare in her ears.
I can do this. One thing at a time.
Clem would've loved to say no, to yell it out in his ear. But another "yessir" is all she managed.
Ledge [Scott Turner]
That was that, for now.
"Back down the hallway, first door on the right." They were probably serving a late lunch right about now. Good for her to get a proper meal, not whatever cell garbage they were feeding her the past week. "They might still be serving food, if you're quick.
"That's where your new guide will be meeting you by the way. The rest will be explained there."
Art [Clementine]
Real food…? Clem powered through plenty of dubious promises that day, but that one the girl believed in the least.
Still, at this point? She'd eat any goober straight from the floor.
She let a "God, I hope so" escape, clutching at a stomach that begged for something other than bread. Clem just hoped it wasn't so obvious. "Thanks. See you later, I guess…"
It was all she had—staring back at the guy, and picturing him getting mauled by a pack of runners. She figured wishing it hard enough would make it happen.
Dot [Minerva]
She'd changed out of the raggy clothes they'd told her to wear and back into her usual white shirt and blue and beige cargo jacket, with a pair of black jeans that'd seen better days. Holes just added to the aesthetic, she liked to think. Fur lined the hood of her jacket, having turned all shades of brown from years of use. At least it smelled good, though. Sitting in that cell for the past day had been a fucking challenge.
She swiped her red hair out of her face as Clementine turned the corner of the hallway, heading towards her. Once she was in earshot, she spoke up meekly. "Hey… Clementine. They… wanted me to show you around. After you eat."
Never drop the act. Never let your guard down. Negan was watching.
Art [Clementine]
There, it wasn't quite so crowded as she'd pictured. Felt like there were more tables than mouths—and there were lots of tables, and lots of mouths. Calling it a cafeteria felt like underselling when a place like that could easily feed an army.
And of course, she was lost almost immediately. It was good not to have Scott breathing down her neck for once, yeah, but being on her own just made her scared to mess something up. Lucky it wouldn't last.
When she was just about done taking the place in, that same meek voice from earlier called out her name. But the girl it came from? Every inch of her seemed sharp, thin and intimidating… well, everything but her expression. Clementine took a short breath and looked up at her, eyes scanning for a proper glance. "You're… Minerva?" She asked, though she seemed awfully sure without an answer.
Dot [Minerva]
Minerva answered with a small nod, a hint of sarcasm in her voice as she held out a hand to shake Clem's. "A pleasure. Well, it would be, in different circumstances."
Letting Clementine slip by her, she escorted the girl towards the dinner line. Her eyes followed armed guards in the room, standing at regular intervals, before returning to the girl next to her. "They're keeping us on a short leash. For… obvious reasons. An escapee and a newbie? Guess we're public enemy number one today."
Art [Clementine]
Clementine lent her a half-smile, looking over from a side glance. "You said people like us stick together, right?"
Short leashes and stink-eyeing douchebags? It reminded her an awful lot of Carver's little QZ. The worst of the worst, all hanging out in the same place. Just a glorified prison. "Between you and me…" Clem said. "I think that's really brave, trying to escape."
She took a step forward as the line grew shorter, furrowing her bushy brows. "How'd they let you out anyway?"
Dot [Minerva]
It was going to take a while to turn that sentimentality around, wasn't it? Taking this girl from rebel to a believer. Negan wouldn't let her fail, and she didn't intend to.
When questions about her release came up, Minerva shrugged her shoulders, grabbing a tray and handing it over to Clementine before getting her own. "They're testing me, I think… having me show you around… see if I can be trusted again. Honestly, I'm just glad to be out of that cell.
"Any longer and I might've really lost my mind."
Art [Clementine]
"Tell me about it."
Clem peered at the tray with all the worry in the world, dreading the smell already. It looked like some kind of potato pie, served with a side of fish and a bowl of mutton stew. What got the bigger reaction out of her, though, was seeing a plastic cup with real milk in it. These guys had to have a crazy system to pull something like that off—that, or they just stole it from some other community. Clem knew on which horse to bet.
The girl sat on the nearest bench and dug in, happy enough to be eating something warm, with actual flavor and texture. It felt embarrassing to be this desperate.
"Most Saviors I know," she snuck in between an awful lot of crunchy chewing. "…They're, like… I don't know. Like total nutjobs.
"I just… I didn't know they had people like you around."
Dot [Minerva]
Chewing up some potato helped give her the time she needed to figure out how to reply to that. Setting her fork down, she took in a deep breath. "Yeah… not everyone's like the assholes Negan uses to rob communities."
Fish wasn't really her thing, but she ate it anyway. Something about the texture. Sometimes, you just don't get to be picky.
"A lot of us are just… trying to get by. Sometimes at gunpoint. I… imagine things were probably like that… where you came from?"
Art [Clementine]
She poked at the stew with the point of her fork, grimacing all the while. It looked like a monster's lair, smelled of wet goat, and tasted like burnt fat. Since no one else looked as grossed out as she was, Clem just kept on nibbling at it, suspicion in her narrow eyes.
When Minerva looked at her, Clementine swung her head to the side, outrunning the girl's gaze. "Honestly? I'm not from 'around' anywhere," Clem said. "Sure, I hung around place to place. But I've been on the road most of the time."
After a chug of milk, she frowned. "This whole group stuff… communities… it doesn't work out. Never does."
Dot [Minerva]
Tough nut to crack indeed. She couldn't just say that communities were the lifeblood of civilization. Clementine wouldn't buy it. Chewing, thinking, a question arose.
"What about the Fireflies? You seem to put a lot of stock in them. Being around, that is."
Art [Clementine]
That kind of question felt so much more loaded than it used to. Now that Mom and Dad were gone, and Lee with them…
It was Joel, wasn't it. He told all of them, and she remembered every word: they stopped looking for a cure. There wouldn't ever be one.
So what good were the Fireflies anyway?
"Friend of mine… Ellie, she's still… trying to look for them. The Fireflies." Putting down an empty cup, Clementine sighed and looked to Minerva again, grief hurting a once plain expression. "Rubbed off on me a bit."
Easier not to think about it, Clementine thought. If only it was that easy. Least she could do was ask for a second opinion. Minerva had a smart look to her. "What do you think?"
Dot [Minerva]
"I think the Fireflies were a bit too… idealist," she answered, eyes falling to her plate. Thinking back to those days in Salt Lake City, she couldn't help but be reminded of her home—her real one. The one that she still missed. "Reestablishing the government. Finding a cure. Those are noble goals, but it's clinging to an old way of life. Civilization has to adapt to its environment, right? Whole world gets the middle finger, billions of people dead or turned into monsters. And what do the Fireflies do?"
She paused.
"They cling to the old ways. Just like every other community that ends up falling. The rules have changed, right? So, figure out a better way to keep civilization going. Only way we don't end up as a footnote in Earth's history."
Realizing she'd rambled on for too long, she took a sip of her water, clearing her throat. "My home wasn't that far from St. Mary's. The Fireflies ended up like the rest of them. Dead and left to rot. By who? No idea. But you and I, we won't end up like them. 'Cause we know the rules."
Art [Clementine]
Clementine figured she'd have an answer for her ready to go. But Clem felt closer to choking on her milk than anything.
"Oh, wow," she muttered out loud, reaching for a helping of sliced trout. "You know your stuff."
Sounded true. Right? Rules had changed, and the only people who had it good anymore were the ones making it hell for everybody else. World got its rocks off reminding you, and that reminder followed like a bad stench, tried and true.
She couldn't get her mind off that Bishop guy and his band of freaks. Or the guys who ate people down at Colorado. If Clementine knew anything, is that you could always do worse. And she didn't look forward to ever seeing the kind of monster who could take down the Saviors.
"I haven't got a clue… about the old way," Clementine said, though it took some admitting. "Let's just say nothing's worked for me yet."
Dot [Minerva]
You'll figure it out, one of these days, Minerva thought, and left it at that. Everyone eventually saw it their way, or they died fighting for the old way. Only the Saviors provided a future for mankind. Everyone else was crumbling into dust.
But, before Clementine could catch on, it was time to change the subject. "Thank you, by the way…" She started, returning to that meek girl from the cell, voice and all. "For what you said earlier. No one's believed in me like you do. Escaping the Saviors isn't easy…" Impossible, actually. Always watching, always waiting. No one escapes the new world order. "…I don't know, I just wanted… to see my friends again. Back home."
Art [Clementine]
"You will," Clementine said without a second thought. And it was like her eyes lit up for the first time that day, as she finally dropped her guard. "I don't— I don't know when… just yet. Too risky right now. " She set her fork down and lowered her voice all the way down to a whisper. "But I know I don't plan on staying. You should come with me."
Dot [Minerva]
You're gonna take some work, aren't you. It took a lot of willpower to not let the disdain color her face, at how quickly this girl could go from pledging herself to the Saviors to planning a breakout. How little she knew that this place would be the best she'd ever have it. The safety, the food, the chance at building something that could last. All for what? For a pathetic girl that just wanted to see her friends again? For a chance to see her traitorous friend, Ellie? That was a level of dedication even she couldn't expect to match.
So instead, she feigned surprise, and a little bit of fear. "A-Aren't you worried what'd happen if they found you after? They won't let me go easy… not after last time."
Art [Clementine]
It was a sigh that held off her response. And that moment, Clem didn't have it in her to match anyone's gaze. "I know." As her hands twitched under the table, she put on her brave face and said the only truth she knew. "I'm scared, too."
Was it even worth it? Did she think… Ellie and AJ would want her back?
Clem stared at some dead person's boots and knew to say yes, even if she didn't believe a word of it.
"Sorry," Minnie heard in that same whisper as before, though it came louder and glum. "I shouldn't be stirring you up like that." Clementine's brows knit together all the way. She shook her head and kept her chin down where it belonged.
"You're better off not getting involved with me, Minerva. I'm just trouble."
Dot [Minerva]
Somewhere, deep down, she wanted Clementine to see the light. Not because Negan wanted her to, but because Clementine deserved to finally have the life it seemed she'd been robbed of for so long. And, as the girl backed down, Minerva took the risk. She reached out her hand, laying it atop Clem's.
"Hey. Don't beat yourself up, okay? Escapee and the newbie, remember? We stick together. Because…?" She waited for Clementine to finish it for her, still hoping to turn this around. To keep herself in Clementine's good graces long enough to convince her of the truth.
Art [Clementine]
It… caught her off-guard, in every way. She had hands paper-thin and cold to the touch, making hers seem restless as it lay under. Clementine watched the other girl in careful glances, overthinking all the things she couldn't remember. "Because…"
She found a smile she didn't want to show. Clem slouched her shoulders and aimed it down at the table. "I don't know…? Why is that?"
Dot [Minerva]
"Because no one else will," she finished. "That means you're stuck with me." She pulled the hand away, giving a genuine smile.
Art [Clementine]
Clementine smiled back at her— a slow and unsure one, but as honest as hers. "You better not regret it."
Dot [Minerva]
"I won't," Minerva said, and left it at that, returning to finishing her meal. This would take time, she knew. The more she gained Clementine's trust, the easier it would be.
Somebody had to save this girl from herself.