Clementine flipped her knife effortlessly through the air, catching the crooked and sinister glint of the flickering rows of lights strung up like Christmas lights across the ceiling of the dark, dingy and dusty basement. Her piercing amber orbs were glaring at a blindfolded man tied to the old chair opposite her. A thick bush of black hair, wild and untamed sat upon his head. He wore a sweaty, tatty white vest that clung to his frame and his hands were bound behind his back with zip ties, wrapping behind the chair.

Her eyes fell to his younger brother. He was only nine and the effects of growing up in this harsh world was evident by his appearance. He was small, much smaller than she was at his age. The kid was also blindfolded and strapped to the chair. The only difference between him and his older brother was that he was awake, breath rattling and picking up as he struggled against his bonds. The chair legs scraped against the grey concrete, creating a horrid and sharp sound that stabbed through her eardrums.

"Hey," She said suddenly, catching the young boy's attention. Her voice was cold and harsh. Silencing the noise the boy's fruitless struggles were making. His head craned to look in her direction. She was sure the eyes of a terrified and innocent kid hid beneath the black of the blindfold, "Quit moving."

The boy did as he was told and his head hung low and his whole body slumped. Her eyes softened but she forced them to harden. Interrogation wasn't something she wanted to do, but she didn't have much choice. They were from the group that had taken AJ, or at least, worked closely with them. She had noticed them scouting the area she and AJ were in the night before their group rushed in, beat her within a half-inch of her life and left her for dead as a horde of walkers descended upon her.

The group had taken AJ with them after stealing and robbing from her. Apparently, killing toddlers wasn't something they did. But robbing from a starving teen was.

Clementine couldn't say she felt bad for what she was about to do, but she knew she was never going to be proud of it. AJ took priority. Always. And right now she needed to find him and these were the only people who could tell her where he is.

She touched the dark plum-coloured bruise and the copious amount of swelling that sat dormant under her right eye and hissed, recoiling her fingers away. She was lucky she didn't lose it when they wailed on her. She shifted in her seat as the older brother stirred. A low groan rasping out his throat. He shook his head and the first thing he did was try to fight against the ironclad clutches of the zip ties.

"So," She spoke, voice more gentle than it was earlier, "Tell me where you took him." She demanded.

"Who?" The man rasped, his voice was hoarse and she could hear the growl of dehydration behind it.

She rocketed from her seat and forcefully ripped the blindfold off, feeling its rugged texture in her palm. She glared at him, seeing the wisps of realisation playing in the corners of his olive eyes. "Don't play dumb. Answer the question. Where'd you take my kid?"

"I-I don't know."

A growl rattled from within the locked cages of her throat. She brandished her blade and held the sharp point under his left eye, digging into his dark skin. His eyes widened.

"I'm tellin' the truth! Honest!"

Her jaw clenched shut and her teeth ground together, "Sure you are," She bit. She worked the steel of her knife up his face, and over his cheek, so it rested in the crook of his lower eyelid and his eyeball. She took a moment to analyse his frightened face. The beads of sweat on his brow, the quick breaths, the pure panic darting in his eyes. Her amber orbs steeled further and she drove the point of the blade under his eyeball. The man screamed, tearing his vocal cords raw as he thrashed and thrashed. She wiggled the blade, feeling it meet some resistance against the bone of his eye socket.

With a tiny grunt of effort, she pried his eyeball out. It was hanging out the socket, dangling by a fleshy thread and resting on his cheek. Her hand wrapped around the loose eye, it felt like a clump of gel, and with a forceful tug, she ripped it off its cord. The man screamed again and she could hear the distinct noise of his younger brother reacting to the noise. His screams of terror muffled.

The man's head sunk and she ran her hand under his jaw. Sobs shook his body and she pried his face up. The empty and bleeding socket was disgusting. "Now," She murmured into his ear and stabbing her now bloody knife into his knee. He howled in pain as the sharp blade cleaved into the gap between his kneecap and the rest of his leg, "Tell me where AJ is or I pop something else out." She growled menacingly.

The man whimpered and cried, shaking his head and repeating a chorus of no's. She wiggled the knife, hearing the soft sound of it cutting through his flesh.

She cocked her head, glaring. The man's mouth opened a slobber of spit hit her in the face. She wiped it away with her sleeve and frowned. With one smooth movement, she pried off his kneecap. Tugging the knife back out and ignoring his high pitched howls of pain, she walked behind the struggling kid's chair and pushed it in front of his brother. She ripped off his blindfold in a blur and her gaze fell back onto the man. Ignoring the feelings of doubt that crawled down her skin, she pushed the kid in front of his brother.

"H-Hey, hey, Sam. Everything's going to be alright, okay." The older tried to reassure, croaking the words out through his warped sobs. Sam shook his head wildly, tears building in his eyes like a puddle. Clementine sighed and walked to a small, low to the ground table. A meat cleaver resided on it. Bathing in the flickering lights. A wave of sick coursed through her and wrapped around her body. She never wanted to go this extreme. He was just a kid. And she was about to chop his hand off like she chopping off the rotten part of a vegetable. An unwanted piece soon to be discarded into the compost bin.

Biting the inside of her cheek, the teenager grabbed the bulky weapon and casually strolled back over. She couldn't let them see her hesitation. She untied the kid and swiftly pushed him to the cold and hard ground. She jabbed her knee into the small of his back and he squirmed. She grabbed a bundle of his coal hair and slammed his face into the ground, hearing the sound of his nose breaking. A small stain of blood remained on the floor.

Her hand found his skinny forearm and she held it still. He tried to fight back but it was useless. He was pinned to the ground. She looked at the older brother, "Tell me what I want to know and I don't take his hand."

She saw the fog of pure and unbridled hatred in his eyes as he struggled against the bonds. "Don't- Please! No! He's all I have! Don't!

Her gaze hardened and morphed to steel, "AJ's all I have," She bit.

She brought the blade of the meat cleaver up into the air and she suddenly slammed it down, slicing through the muscle, sinew and bone in the kids arm like butter. It clunked as it hit the concrete on the other side. A bloodcurdling scream exploded from the kid, escaping through the shoddy gag in his mouth. His hot tears splashed to the ground and his hand fell to the side, rolling. Separated from his arm in a shower of thick and dark blood. She dropped the cleaver.

Clementine grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and held his head up, so his frightened and pain-filled eyes landed on his older brother. The nine-year-old cried out for his older brother and her gaze softened. The older one didn't pick up on it though, too focused on the kid's lack of a hand.

His nose crinkled up and he sent daggers of hate in her direction, "You bitch! I ain't tellin' you shit!"

She ignored him and placed the blade of her trusty knife against the kid's neck, feeling as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down. She raised a brow.

"Y-You wouldn't-"

"Tell. Me. Where. He. Is." Her tone was empty, devoid of any emotion except harsh. She eyed him as a conflicted look washed over his face. Crinkles in his forehead making an appearance.

He averted his gaze, "Fine..." He sounded defeated, "Just don't kill him."

She moved the knife away from Sam's neck, "Where is he then?"

The man went silent, eye staring at anywhere but at her, "I-I don't know-"

She punched Sam in the back of the head, propelling it into the ground knocking him out cold. Her lips snarled and she wrapped a tourniquet around his stump. She stood, feeling the sharp point of one of her broken ribs stab into her side. Hissing, she placed a hand on her waist, massaging the sore spot. She staggered over to the older brother and crouched in front of him so they were the same height, "I never got your name."

"Max," He snarled, venom dripping off his tongue.

She glared right back, "Clementine. Glad to make your acquaintance."

"The feeling ain't mutual."

She let out a breathy chuckle, "I'm pretty sure it is. Your group beat me, stole from me and then took him from me. You have no idea just how much I hate you," She paused, "Now I didn't want to bring your brother into this, Hell, I don't think he even knew what your group was going to do to me, did he?"

His silence was the only answer she got.

"I get it. You want him to live a normal life." She eyed his hand, "That isn't happening anymore now is it?"

He growled in his seat and attempted to jump out of it, "If you think I won't kill you-"

"I'm sure you'd love to. But you won't be able to do anything unless you tell me what I want, so..." She grabbed him by the jaw, forcing him to look at her, "Where is he?"

His lips parted but she cut him off.

"If you say you don't know then I will kill him. I'm not as nice as you. I don't have a no-kids policy. Especially when mine is on the line. So, I ask again, where is he?"

"Up North," He croaked through his tears, utterly defeated, "H-He's up North."

"That isn't good enough!" She barked, "I need specifics."

He swallowed a lump in his throat, "We're holed up in an old gas station. It's... It's hard to miss. Right on the road leading into the city, Washington."

She nodded, pleased and stood, letting his head fall back down again. She manoeuvred so she was behind him and held his head back up again, placing the blade of her knife against his exposed neck, "For the record, I was never going to kill him," She let it sink in for a moment before grinding the knife against his throat, splitting the skin and creating an eruption of blood that flew everywhere.

Clementine let his head go once again. He was dead and she could feel his body going cold already. She cut off the zip ties around his wrists and began heading up the stairs, walking past the still conscious kid on the ground. She gave a final parting glance to Max, hearing a silent wheeze grumble out his mouth.

"I never said anything about you though."

She slammed the door shut with a loud and deafening bang. She locked it. Clementine's hand slipped slowly from the handle, lingering in the air for a precious few moments. Maybe she went a bit too far? No, no. She didn't. They stole AJ from her and after how long it took for her to find him the first time she was going to do whatever it takes. She winced, hearing Max's claws tear into his little brother. Loose ends were dangerous but...

Maybe she should've been more merciful. Gave them a second chance. They had given her what she wanted after all. But they also took it in the first place. Hunting another victim when she caught up with them. They were sloppy, didn't hide their tracks. That's why it was so easy. How many people had they killed? She had killed before, everyone has this long into the apocalypse, but did they need to? To her, killing was always a last resort.

Pushing her thoughts to the back of her mind, she limped into the living room and collapsed onto the sofa. Her ribs aching and protesting at every little movement, stabbing her. Each footstep was a hilted breath that didn't quite escape her split lip. The pillow was soft and feathery, contrasting with the sticky tar coloured leather. Her hand fell off the side, two fingers taped together, and brushed the soft beige bristles of the carpet. Running like they would through AJ's hair whenever he had a nightmare.

She pulled the brim of her incredibly roughed and torn up hat over her eyes, covering them in a swarm of darkness. She would love to go after AJ right now but she had nothing and they had everything. She'd have to ask for a favour or two first but it was too late at night for that. The Saviours wouldn't be very accepting of her wanting to speak with Negan this late.

Especially if he was busy with his wives.

She rolled onto her side, hissing at the pain that faded as soon as it blazed. She pushed an arm under the pillow and closed her eyes. Her breathing quickened, being replaced with hard, abrupt whimpers and slow mutterings of an all too familiar nightmare. The flames of McCarroll Ranch and a blood-drenched AJ.