A Yellow Dress Forgotten Chapter 3: Ep3 - Dragon's Fire, a walking dead fanfic

[First Draft] February 11th, 2020
[Second Draft, First Edit] April 4th, 2020
[Final Draft, Second Edit] November 27th, 2020
[Final Edit] February 3rd, 2021

[36,412 words]

Hope you enjoy!

- A Yellow Dress Forgotten -

. . Episode 3: Dragon's Fire . .

"And if you gaze long enough into an abyss,
the abyss will gaze back into you..."

~Friedrich Nietzsche

She shivered. The chill in the air sliced her cheeks like sheets of metal, and Clementine held her arms. She stepped off of the train, only to slip. With uneven breaths, Clementine caught herself with the train's rail.

Ice.

Clementine swallowed, slowly looking across the vast, frozen lake. She couldn't see past the haze of white where land should've been. And when she turned to clamber back on board, the train was gone. Clementine blinked. It had truly left her on her own.

Carefully, she walked on. Clementine winced as the ice crackled beneath her boots, and all she wanted to do was get the hell away. She wanted to find land—a sturdy structure. Clementine stepped forward, eyes over her shoulder, when she heard it: a second set of steps, low and unruly.

She spun around violently. No one. But the second set of steps, they were still there. Clementine frowned. Her heart matched the unsettling beats until she realized they weren't steps at all. Her gaze sunk to the ice in horror. "No…"

They were fists pounding against the ice. Frantic. Panicked. "L-Luke..." she whispered hoarsely. "Luke..."

Clementine feet were flighty. She followed the pounding without thought, until she felt them directly below the ice. Clementine fell to her hands and knees, scrubbing the snow from the surface. "Luke! Luke, I-I— Hold on, please!" she yelled, snatching her flask from her hip. Clementine held it within both hands above her head.

The metal screamed as she bashed it into the ice. Again, and again, and again. The beats slowed by the time her hands were torn from knuckles to wrists. Clementine was unceasing. With a surge of energy, the flask broke through the frigid ice, and Clementine followed once everything shattered beneath her. Her screams were muted below the surface. The water was dark, and once again she was alone.

Clementine swam towards the crater. The air pierced her lungs as she gasped, and Clementine snatched the edge of the ice with a sob.

Once again, she had failed. She was still that stupid kid. She still couldn't save a life. More blood on her hands.

Clementine trembled as her upper body scraped the surface. And as her legs kicked, Clementine gasped in shock. A hand had snatched her ankle. Once it yanked with an inhuman strength, Clementine was forced back under. She kicked at the sodden man with her boot blindly, only to recognize the face. Clementine went ridged as Luke—skin warped with the water's current, and eyes pale as can be—continued to scratch her, tugging her down towards the many decomposed hands that reached for her. All the hands she'd slaughtered.

And there were many.

So. So. Many.

At the bottom, a hellish fire glowed. The flames grew, slithering amongst the water and undead. Your time is now... it hissed. Your time to join us, Clementine...

Hell claims every monster born...

[. . .]

Clementine wrenched herself up from the sleeping bag as a trembling mass. She held herself, and the rivers of sweat that beaded along her temple dripped to her neck. Beside her, Javier groaned, stirring in his own bag. Clementine's exhale was shaken. She clenched her jaw, reaching for her hip before remembering that it was empty.

Her lifeline. She recalled draining all of it the night prior, at the foot of the fire.

With most of her breathing managed, Clementine slowly got to her feet and strode out of the RV door. She blinked in the early sun's light and adjusted her cap. As Clementine walked out of the RV square, she kicked bottles to the side. The pounding of fists haunted her with every stride, and as she stared down the cliff, Clementine was adamant on driving them away. There would never be a night—she swore—that she'd think about that day again.

But Clementine knew that that was a lie.

[. . .]

When Javier got up in the early morning, then stepped out of the RV square with the sun barely peaking over the mountains, Clementine's firm brow and unsmiling lips had completely replaced her drunken glee. He rubbed his forehead, lessening the ache. She turned around as he got to her side, pointing down the cliff's edge. "Look. They're safe," she murmured. "We won't have to use the short-cut after all."

Javier smiled. "Would we be able to catch up to them from here?"

Clementine nodded. "Come on, there's a way down." As they carefully trekked down the edge, Javier kept glancing towards Tripp and Jesus; the men hadn't seen either of them and instead continued to follow the street. At the foot of the cliff-side, Javier tripped and stumbled, and his gut reaction was to clutch his stomach. He winced, feeling all of his insides slosh together.

"Oh...mierda." He swayed as he glanced over. "You feel it too, right? It's not just me?" Clementine closed her eyes and nodded. So her firm brow and unsmiling lips weren't out of lone-wolf syndrome; he had the same predicament too. "Fuck."

"Don't remind me," she grunted, walking onto the road.

Javier didn't even want to remind himself of the Devil's concoction: hangovers. At the very least, his head didn't feel too bad. Well...no, actually. When he put more thought on it, Javier felt worse. (And sweaty?)

Together, they walked down the road, following the other two whilst evading as much confrontation with walkers as possible. He kept his eyes to the side where the muertos were, and was thankful that they appeared to keep to themselves.

Beside him, Javier noted Clementine's solemn gaze and sorrowful eyes. He knew she had only woken up a few minutes before him—in a cold sweat, trembling. So he decided something. Maybe it was a bad idea, and that was a pattern in his life. Even so, for just a minute, they could forget their fucking aches. Javier grinned as he said, "I got an idea."

Clementine surveyed him with side-eyes. "Oh yeah? And what's— Fucking, Javier! Put me down!" She spazzed as Javier swung her off the road, hoisting Clementine over his shoulders. After a moment of struggling (and laughter), Clementine was perched on his shoulders, watching their shadow of an awkward, tall, hungover monstrosity amongst the tree line. "God...Javi! What the hell?!" she hissed.

Javier chuckled, holding her legs as he walked on. She yelped for a split moment, her hands slapping over his forehead and cheek for balance. "How are you this heavy?! You're like a midget but you weigh a ton!" He felt Clementine's glower, though continued with glee: "You sure you actually were surviving? Sure as hell know how to live off the land, don't you?"

Despite his aching stomach—and Javier assumed hers did as well—, Clementine's soft laugh brightened the morning ahead. "You fucking dick, I'm not that heavy! And I wasn't the one mooching off of a van too!"

"The van you were going to take..."

"Whatever."

In the distance (Jesus and Tripp really did walk fast, huh?), Javier and Clementine spotted the other half of their group pause, staring at them in disbelief. "Wave at them," Javier said, tugging on Clementine's leg.

"Alright, I am," she retorted, her hand having naturally raised anyway. Who what they assumed was Jesus waved back, and then the men began walking towards them. "You know, you can put me down now."

"Okay, okay, fine."

Clementine clambered off. When her feet hit the ground, she staggered to the side, holding her head when it felt like splitting open. "Oh...shit..." Suddenly, she missed sitting on Javier's shoulders. The air was much crisper up there. And less sweaty. Kind of.

"Head?"

She nodded. "I'll be fine. Let's just meet them. We really do have to get going."

Javier glanced at the morning sun, which was now appearing to be much more whole along the landscape's horizon. "Yeah, we do."

Midway, the four met. Tripp's grin was wide. "Alright! I thought you two little fuckers would make it! And..." He paused, then stared wildly at Clementine. "Two fuckers... Where the hell did you come from, Clementine?"

Clementine shrugged. "Eh." With a nod to Javier, she explained, "He was getting his ass beat, so I came by and decided to save him."

"Hey!"

Tripp barked in laughter. Jesus folded his arms and gave Clementine a smile; he said, "Glad you could join us, kid."

"Anytime," she said.

Javier asked, feigned offense subsided, "So you two are good, then?"

"Gave us hell for a good few hours," Jesus replied, "but we managed to find a large oak to hide out in."

"Yeah, for only a few minutes before a branch snapped..." Tripp sighed, patting his stomach. "Not much to expect, though. We aren't exactly small, are we?"

Jesus raised his hands defensively. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm as light as a feather."

Tripp rolled his eyes. "Oh piss off," he groaned, "your fat-ass is what broke the damn thing!"

Javier and Clementine grinned at one another as Jesus explained, "It was a simple misstep. That's all. And besides, weren't you the one saying your boots way a ton each?" Tripp gawked, then grumbled in defeat. Jesus flattened his coat with a smile of victory. "Anyway, we need to get going. I don't want that sun to be over our heads too quickly."

Javier nodded, a wash of nausea hitting him. "Right...yeah. Let's go." Wordlessly, Clementine and Javier followed the two men as they recounted the other mishaps that occurred the night before. (Something about a rabbit, and then not a rabbit but a small child walker, and then a whole trampoline they used for cover. Maybe half of that was the hangover talking, though.) Javier held his stomach and glanced at Clementine.

She inhaled deeply, attempting to ward off her own bouts of nausea with cool air. She shared Javier's gaze. It didn't work—and Clementine didn't think it wise to clamber over his shoulders again.

As they continued to walk down the road, Javier thought to the RV camp as a way to take his mind off of other matters. "So..." he murmured, vaguely recalling a certain conversation, "do you...think Eleanor is pretty at all?"

Clementine eyed him carefully. "I mean...I guess she is." She frowned. "...why?"

"Oh, you know—" Javier shrugged— "just curious."

"Javi..."

He rubbed his beard in thought, then clasped his hands together on top of his head. "You don't really hate Eleanor, do you?"

Clementine felt her cheeks warm for no damn reason. "I never said I hated her. She's a bitch, and I don't trust her."

"Uh huh..."

Growing irritated, she snapped, "If you have something to say, fucking spit it out already!"

Javier grinned, allowing the steam to rise off of her for a few more seconds. "It's just, you know, I do remember you saying something about her last night."

"...what?"

"Like...wanting to fondle her boobs—"

"I. Do. Not!" she hissed hotly. Javier snickered. "I don't! I— Stop laughing!"

"A drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts, Clementine," Javier retorted in amusement.

"Oh yeah? I'm hardly a man, and I remember you trying to throw a curveball for the first throw!"

Javier huffed. "Come on, that was funny."

"I— Fuck, behind you!"

Javier spun around, snatching his bat and clobbering a muerto as it popped out from behind the trees. Up ahead a few feet, Jesus and Tripp were also taken aback by the small bundle of walkers that had decided this moment was the opportune time to jump them. Clementine, armed with her knife, slashed through another one, then gasped and held her knees. She must've swung her stomach out of alignment. "Oh god..." Clementine clenched her jaw, and her eyes slid upwards.

At her side, Javier was leaned against a tree. Once Jesus took care of the last straggler (by knocking its head against the same tree with a forceful kick—to which Javier was too sick to flinch), Tripp held his rifle by the shoulder. "Fucking... Is everybody good?"

"As good as I can be," Javier grumbled, Clementine nodding along.

Jesus remained still and frowned. "There's still one somewhere 'round here..."

Tripp, with Javier departing from the tree, stared into the bushes. "Yeah, I hear it too. I'll go check it." The two swayed in place, their brains throbbing against their skulls, and their stomachs tossing like a set of angry seas. As Jesus watched them with careful eyes, Tripp stepped between the trees and groaned. He immediately turned away, eyes watered. "God damn," he wheezed, "the fuck happened to you, ma'am?" A shot fired, silencing the groans.

Curious, Jesus, Clementine and Javier wandered towards the walker—or rather, Jesus wandered over while Clementine and Javier stumbled irregularly across the overgrown grass. Somber, Jesus shook his head. "That...is not a death anybody would want," he said.

In the center of their small half-circle laid a walker, eagle-spread, with its long, braided hair curled beside its small frame. From its jugular down to its pelvis, the walker was meticulously split open, almost completely hollow of intestines besides a kidney, both lungs, its heart and a squashed portion of its large intestine. The smell was horrendous, vile, and cruel.

Tripp, who took a few paces back, covered his mouth and nose. Jesus, on the other hand, heaved a long breath and watched the hungover pair. "Are you two doing fair? You look sick."

And indeed they did. As the walker's stench wafted to them, their stomachs jerked, and their skin paled. "Oh...fucking...shit..." Clementine grunted. She slipped off her hat and wiped her forehead, which was beaded with sweat. "I'm... Oh my god, I can't."

She gagged. "Pendeja...no..." Javier slurred, holding his stomach. "Don't, stop."

"I can't... I can't..." Clementine was forced on her knees, her baseball cap flopping on the ground beside her. Javier, too, began to dry heave.

"What the fuck? Are you two—?" Before Tripp could get any closer to them, Jesus held out his arm across his chest.

"I don't think you should get closer... They're about to spill out whatever they have."

Clementine planted her hands in the grass beside the walker, hovering over the cavity of the carcass. "Fuck..." She gagged with a scowl. "Fuck...come on..."

"No...ughf..." Javier went on all fours, mirroring Clementine. He shook his head, feeling his skin grow green. His mouth gaped as he stared into the muerto's horrid line of broken teeth. Clementine's next gag was gurgled, and she forced her fingers to the back of her throat. She vomited into the walker's abdomen, forcing the hell-spawn inside Javier to hurl itself up his throat. He heaved, sweat dripping as Clementine continued to empty everything she had. He glared at the dead woman's mouth. "Puta muerto..." he began, preparing himself. "Métete esto en el culo podrido."

He gave into his vomit, the slush pouring through the walker's mouth and down its throat.

Clementine, with the last of it spat out, groaned and fell backwards, her forearm covering her eyes. Her breaths were heavy as Javier continued his rampage. By the time he was done, he slumped over to his side with an odd sigh of satisfaction. Clementine wiped her mouth and grinned. She looked at Jesus and Tripp, who looked equally disturbed; by the looks of their faces, Clementine was also willing to bet that if they had one or two of the crucifixes her mother had, they'd chuck it at both her and Javier—and then the vomit-bucket-of-a-walker for good measure.

"You mind giving me some water, Jesus?"

He frowned. "Not after you defiled this woman's body, no." Jesus glared at Javier as he began to open his mouth. "And don't ask me for bread."

Javier, with wide eyes, stared. He deflated. "Fuck..." How did he know…?

Tripp and Jesus glanced at each other, then walked away, leaving the two to pick themselves up. As they were set back onto their designated path—feeling significantly better—, Clementine and Javier wiped their mouths with their sleeves. Their eyes met, prompting them to both smirk in unison. Instinctively, with her mouth parched, Clementine reached for her hip and took out her flask. However, before she could remember she already drained it, Clementine frowned and paused. Clementine jiggled the flask. It was half-full. "Huh...?"

"What?"

"I thought I emptied this." Javier frowned. Clementine sniffed the open lid and gasped, eyes watering. "Oh, that is not whiskey."

"Wha—" The flask was thrusted to him. He sniffed and wrenched away. "Oh my god, that smells like crude oil!" Javier saw the wondering glint in Clementine's eyes. "You can't really be— Clem!"

It was too late. Clementine took a swig, swishing it in her mouth before spitting it along the side of the road. She coughed after a few moments, eyes burning. "It...actually tastes fine at first. But holy fuck, it burns on the way down," she croaked. Clementine offered the flask.

Javier shook his head, hands raised. "Nuh uh. Look, I don't remember ever filling that thing up, and I don't know what we put in it. I'll pass."

"Come on. To get the vomit out of your mouth," Clementine said, swallowing the last of that horrid concoction.

"That's probably what got us so hungover!" Javier protested. Clementine and Javier's minor squabble took a pause as they noticed Jesus and Tripp both looking over their shoulders, eyebrows arched.

"You guys were just drinking last night...?" Tripp asked, unamused.

Javier waved his arms. "What?! It was a rough night."

"And we were surrounded anyway," Clementine added.

Tripp growled, "And here we were trying to get five minutes of rest..."

The pair grinned sheepishly, then remained respectfully mute for the next few minutes. It didn't stop Clementine from shoving the flask into Javier's chest. He forced it back. She forced it back again. He forced it back squared. She forced it back cubed.

"Clem, I—"

"Drink. It. We can dump the rest out after," Clementine hissed. Begrudgingly, Javier took the flask and felt the mystery drink slosh into his mouth. He swished it around, finding it oddly sweet, then sour, then— He spat it out with hacks. Javier, feeling awfully betrayed by the alcohol, poured it onto the road as they continued to walk.

He surrendered the flask over, glad to see it stashed away. Javier barely listened to the quiet conversation between Tripp and Jesus, and he pointed his eyes to the ground. "How...about we don't tell Kate or Gabe this? Keep this between us?"

"That drink?"

"And the muerto."

Clementine nodded with a sigh. "Yeah... I think they'd probably not talk to us for a solid month."

Javier chuckled. "Gabe longer."

Clementine grinned, and she rolled her eyes. As she strode forward, Clementine looked over her shoulder with a devilish smile. "Bet."

[. . .]

Around the outsized garage Clementine knew well, walkers swarmed. The sun was hidden behind looming clouds, and all shadows were left to be near-translucent. They ravaged the chain-linked fence that Tripp, Jesus and Clementine barricaded with teeth-gritting force. Javier, meanwhile, pushed all of his weight into a jackhammer, opening the main door in several beats. "Come on!" he called through forced grunts. "It's open! Let's go!"

Clementine was the first to take the chance, rolling underneath the gap. Jesus was second, allowing one of the walls to tumble over. Javier watched Tripp, severely anxious. "Come on!"

"You get in, Javi! I'll get there!" Javier nodded to himself—just to assure—and ducked inside. With his heart pumping, he watched Tripp in anticipation. The man swung at the few walkers swiping at him before he bolted at an impressive speed. As soon as he slid underneath, Javier kicked at the jackhammer—the only thing holding the garage open. It took five slams of his shoe, and the garage door was slammed closed. The dead scratched, banged and rammed against the door, though, it didn't appear to budge.

With a sigh of relief, Javier gasped. "Hopefully that holds..." Clementine murmured.

"Yeah. Hopefully," he echoed.

They didn't get to relax for long, however. Steps awoke from within the shadows. Clementine whipped around, eyes narrowed. Behind her, everyone tensed.

David brought himself into the light, and his eyes darted across all of them. "I...thought you died. I've been waiting for a few hours, got worried when the sun rose, and—" His eyes were drawn to Clementine, wide with shock. "The hell...?"

Clementine felt the beastly fire in her eyes awaken the festering anger that was quick to boil. Just the sight of him irked her to the core. Good thing his broken nose healed without any scars. Clementine could just make sure it would this time.

Her heels were hollow beats as she walked, the Glock still in her hand. "I have a few questions for you..." Clementine hissed, her words rough and guttural.

As she stalked closer to David, Clementine readied her pistol for another round with a click. Jesus said, "Hey now, don't do anything brash, Clementine."

"Brash..." she mumbled. "Brash?" Clementine pointed the barrel at David's throat, glaring down his narrowed gaze. The man shifted uncomfortably, finding her eerily calm ire far more unsettling than the usual fury of a dragon. "I'm just asking, did you let him turn?"

"Clementine…"

"Did you or did you not let Alvin. Fucking. Turn?!"

David shook his head. "I... I didn't have to."

"Wh... What?!" Clementine choked. The sneer that warped the lines of her face was quickly monstrous. "You… You fucking killed him?!"

David, cautiously, pushed the gun away with the side of his palm. "No…" Even despite his soft voice, she whipped the pistol back to its target, narrowly missing his jaw. "Look, Clementine, he... He lived. A.J's alive."

Her heart, it wrenched from one side of her rib cage to the other. Everything ceased to exist. Eyes of golden hellfire burned, and once again, she was wrenched back through years. To a lifetime ago. She couldn't speak, not even when Javier was behind her.

"How...?" he asked his brother. Javier's words were just as strained as they were the night prior, at the foot of the fire. "Clementine said he was sick. How'd he survive?"

"He's stronger than we thought. Bounced right back," David explained. Clementine stepped backwards, the gun still hovering before her, though lowered towards David's stomach. Her stare unfocused. Her shoulder itched and bit her skin. "A.J's a fighter, Clementine."

Javier watched her as she stared at the ground, so small and lost. And for a moment, he didn't understand what he was looking at. She was pale and stricken, the fire completely snuffed from her eyes. Clementine was a ghost of herself, in that moment.

Except, realization dawned on Javier with the force of a sledgehammer. She was no ghost of herself. Javier was watching her sobriety creep back to consciousness. And that…was a terrifying thing.

"Clem…" he whispered, realizing how broken the girl actually was. And that she was a fractured whole, and that flask was the string holding everything together.

David continued, still as gentle as he could manage: "It was a miracle. He's alive."

Abruptly, Clementine's sobriety snapped out of existence. She lifted the pistol and snarled, "I don't believe you. Where is he if he's alive?!"

"I... I'm not the one who knows that for sure," David rushed. "That, that would be Dr. Lingard."

"I— You—" Her words were chopped as much as her thoughts. Clementine pointed her weapon to the ground. "I don't... I don't understand." The sobriety came back, and it engulfed her. She collapsed to her knees, leaning her head into her hands. "He's... H-He's dead. He died." Clementine's eyes sought David's, tears searing her cheeks. "You're lying to me!" she hissed.

"He's alive," David promised. "Clementine, he's alive."

"No, no he's not," Clementine whined violently. Her hands were plastered to the ground as tension coiled between her shoulders. She bared her teeth and shook her head. "He's-not-alive," she then hissed, jaw tight. "He's not… H-He can't be. He just…can't be…"

Everything swung around her.

"Clementine, I'm telling you—"

Her knees were dug into the snow. The warmth of her mouth consumed her.

Javier waved his brother off and said, "Give her a moment, please."

"But—"

The screams of a baby, wrenching the metal from her mouth.

"David. Not. Now."

Her baby. Her little boy…

"I... Fine, alright." David sighed, relenting. He watched her for a moment, then flicked a switch on the wall. With the garage now completely bathed in white light, Clementine didn't even blink. She could barely hear David when he said, "Now let's get you supplies, a motorcycle, and you can be on your way."

Everything was just too much. Too bright. So very cold.

"W-What?! But Gabe! Kate! You can't just expect me to leave them!"

He can't be alive. H-He can't be. Clementine slowly lifted her head to the brothers, a blazing sun cracked throughout the hellfire in her eyes. He's fucking lying to me.

David glowered. "I expected that from you years ago; it shouldn't be different now." He put his hand on Javier's shoulder. "It's okay. They'll be safe and looked after."

The scales of her heart regrew. He's lying. He's lying.

"Yeah," Javier said, shrugging him off, "not without me, you are. I can't just leave them now!"

"Javi—"

"What the fuck is this?!"

Tripp's question interrupted the building argument. The brothers looked towards Jesus and Tripp, who both were staring at the large crates. Clementine, numb as she was, frowned, and she finally got to her feet. "What...is it?" she asked, her voice crackled.

"'Property of Prescott Airfields,'" Tripp read. "This..." He blitzed around, eyes quickly landing on David. "What the actual fuck is my shit doing here?!"

"I don't know," David breathed. "I didn't realize..."

"And look over there," Jesus said, pointing to another section of the garage. "It's not just from Prescott. All of the other allies the New Frontier had." David was left baffled. He blinked, and even Clementine could see that the utter puzzlement that dawned the man was genuine. Jesus, meanwhile, was left suspicious. "How long were you in here for?"

David immediately caught onto his accusation. "I don't know anything with this! This garage is a storehouse for the New Frontier. I've been here for a few hours in the corner—in the dark, remember?—away from that!" he retorted, pointing towards the garage door where several walkers still clawed. "I didn't bother reading everything because it's usually with just our brand!" David spun to Clementine. "She can tell you! That last time I worked with running supplies was with her!"

Tripp paled as he watched Clementine with wide eyes. "Y-You're fucking New Frontier?!" he snapped, utterly bewildered.

"Was," Clementine corrected with a sharp wave of her hand. "Last time I saw this asshole, I broke his nose," she hissed, forcing David into silence with a glare alone. "Not to mention they stole my kid."

Tripp swallowed and backed away a step, hands raised. "I-I get it… Okay, sorry. Really. I didn't think."

She was blunt: "Obviously." With a drawn breath, Clementine muttered, "But…yeah, David's right. I've been in here a few times. I don't think we had more than a wall of crates." With a careful eye, she studied the man. "I don't like you, and I still don't fucking trust a word you say. But…I do believe this."

"Thank-you—"

"Save. It," she snapped. David thinned his lips and grumbled. "Not until I find out if A.J's actually…"

"I—"

"David," Javier murmured, breaking his own silence, "it's…still too soon for that. I know what you're thinking." David folded his arms, exhaled, though nodded. "Anyway," Javier continued, calmly, "I'm not leaving so easily, and we're going to have to figure whatever the fuck's happening here."

"Fine. Okay. We only have a few hours before I can report back to Joan," David said.

"Right, and—" Javier froze. He frowned with his eyes, unfocused, pointed to the ground.

Tripp blinked. "Wh—"

"Shhh!" Javier hissed, waving a hand.

Clementine heard it too. She narrowed her eyes across the room. Amongst the walkers outside, amongst the still breaths of the room, there was...an engine? "David, did you have other people come with you?" she asked, out of curiosity rather than malice.

"What?! No! I—" He heard doors of a truck slam. "Get down, all of you!" he barked, and he grabbed Javier, pulling him to the side by his collar. Clementine ducked out of the way, and her heart thrashed against itself as the back door swung open. She spared a glance and noted four men carrying more crates.

All from Prescott.

From the side, Javier and David nodded, then stalked forward in a crouch. Once catching Javier's eyes for a brief moment, Clementine followed. When her gaze snagged the back of David's shoulder, she was wrenched backwards through the past many months.

She felt her sobriety struggle against the buzz of her drink.

Her thoughts—through the white noise—were like a pendulum, flowing in and out of reality. As she desperately tried to focus on following Javier, A.J bled through her mind. The alcohol and flask—both had her reality slipping.

In...

Has he grown? Would he remember me? Is he even fucking alive?! Is David lying?!

And out...

In a pack, they snuck up on the men around a large table. Javier snapped, "What the hell are you doing?" Caught off-guard, the men whipped around in a panic. Clementine's eyes widened. The man from the junkyard, he was here. The one who killed Mariana. And with Javier just an arm's length away from her, she could feel his fury rise. Clementine surveyed all of them; they were all from the junkyard.

Mariana's killer—another monster—sneered; he snatched his gun from his hip and fired. David and Javier ducked for cover while the men sprinted away. "AFTER THEM!" David bellowed—though he was far, far away. Dumbly, with her thoughts scattered, Clementine chased after the closest fleeing man with Jesus by her side.

In...

There was a chance. Clementine couldn't believe it. My boy… A.J, is… Where…? Why…? H-How?!

And out...

She followed Jesus outside, tracking down the man that had slipped away. Her thoughts were in a million shattered pieces. Clementine's body acted on its own, knocking down walkers that got in their way and slashing their heads with her knife.

In...

Could it be true? Could A.J really have survived? Clementine didn't know. And as her thirst and sobriety continued to thrash, she could barely register the lives she claimed at that garage. Before long, however, Clementine was simply mindless. The white noise consumed her completely, and she just did without any thought. As blood flecked her skin, and gunfire rang, she could only feel snow clip her flesh, the scales of her heart humming, and her bullet-torn shoulder that ached and ravaged her consciousness.

She wanted a drink. So much. She wanted a drink and hear the screams of a baby—very alive.

[. . .]

It didn't take long to reach Richmond's borders, especially since the herd had gotten there first, and then wandered off, collecting stragglers as the mass went. Every once and a while, Clementine wondered how much faster they would've gone if Jesus had stayed with them; Javier wondered if Jesus would make it on his own; Tripp wondered if they were ever going to shut the fuck up about Jesus. Finding a safe section to sneak in, however, that took several hours on its own. Not only had the first (albeit small) wave of the herd wandered about, there were guards to be mindful of. Once Tripp had found a small alleyway—a stroke of luck—, the rest was smooth sailing—five walkers discounted.

As they stalked around a corner, Javier drifted to Clementine's side. Quietly, they talked: "Do you think that A.J is out there?"

Clementine wanted to believe it, that was clear. Her head was still a vat of hysterical confusion, though with a swallow, she managed, "I... Y-Yeah, I don't know. But I have a friend who would be able to tell me, in the medical unit."

Javier nodded with a small smile. "That's good. That's...really good. If, you know, it's true." They continued to crouch along the scattered barrels and cars. "Don't worry, Clem, if he's out there, you'll find him."

"Thank-you." They stopped at the main street, and ducked in unison as guards strolled by. Tripp jerked his chin and darted around a corner. They followed. "And...I heard what happened there when Jesus left. You— Did you really kill Badger?"

Javier gave a long breath, his thoughts on his blood-soaked bat across his shoulders. "Ah, y-yeah. I... I don't think I regret it but—"

"You do."

Javier sighed. The light in his eyes had shifted within the last few hours; Clementine didn't find the same man that couldn't kill a walker who looked too alive. "Mariana wouldn't've liked that. She never believed that we are the ones to decide someone else's fate. And, I just…"

Clementine's heart quaked at the sound of her name. She tightened her lips and breathed in deeply to calm the solemn thumps against her chest. "That's...a very old and beautiful way of looking at it."

"Yeah, it is. She never had to kill one of those things, you know? Not Gabe either—alone anyway," Javier said. "Kate and I were always there so, you know, we dealt with them whenever we could."

They halted as Tripp had, and watched him peek out and over a Sudan's trunk. "I guess I wouldn't know. Lee taught me how to shoot a gun and keep my hair short when everything started."

"Smart man."

Clementine nodded with a gentle, nostalgic smile. "Yeah, he was. He was a professor at a university in Georgia... I guess he made it easier for me to be on my own, and maybe even raise a kid. Though...there were other people with that last part. Like there was Christa too, and—" Clementine frowned, though as she thought more of the woman, her smile deepened. "She taught me almost everything else. How to hunt, skin and cook a meal. Shoot a bow. …keep…a gun on you. Everything else."

"That's good… That's all everyone really wants now, you know?" Javier patted her shoulder. "Are you going to go? Find out where he is, I mean."

"Yeah. Now."

He took his hand away and gripped his bat. "Go. See you on the other side."

Clementine grinned and caught Tripp's eye. His head bobbed down the street to a cleared alley. She took his offer, mightily grateful, and darted away. She forced her anxiety and internal tension away, as anyone had to do when venturing alone.

Without looking back, as Clementine navigated through the area, the size of Richmond dawned on her. She knew cities were huge—of course, they were cities—though the way the buildings loomed over her was unfamiliar. In all this time, she had forgotten just how big the human world was.

Once reaching a dumpster, Clementine felt her adrenaline jerk her down, avoiding the wandering guards' attention. As they passed, she took out her flask and brought it to her lips.

Clementine frowned and shook it. Empty. That's right. Turns out a quarter-liter flask was not a lot for a drunk. Not that she was a drunk. Clementine didn't fall asleep or stumble around or... Well, no, she did, but that had— That was rare, you know? She was just...moderately tipsy for every hour—

She growled to herself and tucked it away. That was another priority: refilling the flask. Clementine poked her head from the corner and mentally noted that whichever she came across first—whiskey or Dr. Lingard—would be dealt with then and there. Though, knowing the doctor, alcohol wouldn't be too far.

Clementine hoped so, anyway. Then again, on second thought, perhaps not. After all, as she had said to his face once, he was a bitch when it came to whiskey.

Once the guards were surely gone, Clementine darted down the block. And another. And another. By the time she had gotten near the heart of the settlement, able to peer into what she thought was the center square, Clementine slipped into a building with boarded windows. Inside, she saw the shadows of its residents along the walls, the people belonging to them blocked by a bookcase.

Shit...

Carefully, Clementine reached for the door when her eye caught a bottle of...

Oh how God blessed her soul, it was whiskey. Her mouth watered as a grin broke across her lips. It was her fucking day. Her eyes darted from the bottle to the shadows. Clementine crept towards the side table where it sat, which was deeper into the corner, away from the wall. However, it was at the landing of a staircase. Clementine paused, her ears straining for any noise from the second floor. She frowned. There wasn't any voices— No. There weren't any words, but there were voices. Clementine pondered for a moment. And rhythmic creaks.

And...wait, what did that woman say?

The small of her back grew warm as she listened. It wasn't until her cheeks were hot did Clementine realize that she should not be listening to people in bed. In any case, Clementine knew the coast was clear since they were obviously occupied. She took the whiskey from the table and sat at the last step. Ignoring the lovey-dovey couple, she studied the bottle with her flask at hand. The bottle had been dunked in water at one point in time—or, at least, that was what the smudged ink on the label told her.

Figuring that a little sip couldn't hurt, Clementine took her chance. Her eyes widened with her grin. She looked at the bottle happily. Apple. Good God, it was apple.

That was most certainly going in the flask. Clementine didn't even care if the flask was too small for all of the drink, that apple whiskey was hers now.

With a giddy stomach, she slid her flask back to her belt and snuck back out the door with the rest of the bottle under her arm. Curiously, Clementine turned around and read the sign posted beside the door. "'The Skanky Walker Club,'" she murmured, "huh... That...explains a few things." She chuckled to herself as she walked the streets, humming a tune she didn't quite know—just to celebrate her quick-thinking and accidentally walking into…whatever that place was. Clementine had an idea, though there weren't any words. Sex place? Sex place. Maybe she'd ask Javi…

Well, actually, no. She wasn't. That was a horrible idea.

Shadows startled Clementine, and she promptly spat the swig of whiskey she damn well nearly choked on. Once skirted around the corner and away from people, Clementine collected her breath. She wished she had her hoodie again, just so she'd be able to hide her baseball cap. Clementine frowned; she didn't know where it was, to be honest. Probably left it in Prescott.

Dammit. It was a good jacket.

With another swig, Clementine strolled away, reminding herself to keep her calm and notlook suspicious. Which ducking out of sight constantly would do. And there were time-restraints, damn it. She didn't have all day.

So, with her suspicious behavior maintained, it took Clementine an hour or so (and half a bottle of apple whiskey) for her to finally find the medical center.

By that time, Clementine's grin was completely gone, and her constant buzz set ablaze. She felt it in the spring in her step. Dodging the last of the wandering clients (who she assumed would've definitely recognized her on the spot, with their brands and all), Clementine finally found the doctor laying in a chair, all alone in an emergency room. The only light in the space came from a candle, and a dim white glow from the counters at the end. Electricity… In a place this size, it was a miracle. No wonder the New Frontier took it over.

She turned back to the doctor. "Lingard?" she asked quietly, her hiss striking the silence. He laughed bitterly, his voice broken and cracked. His bloodshot eyes dragged themselves across the room to her. "Oh...not now..." Clementine scowled. Though she should've suspected this ounce of luck to sour; he didn't even pick up his head when she closed the door behind her.

"Heeyy... Look who's here to talk..." he drawled. "I always thought...that we were the same, Tangerine..."

She rolled her eyes. "We're not doing this right now," she whispered. Clementine strode across the room to the foot of the chair. "Dr. Lingard, I have—"

"You and me...we're both addicts right...? Addicts have to...to...stay..."

"Lingard..."

"...together... If I...ask you...to, to do something, you...would, right?" Dr. Lingard watched her through tired blinks. "You'd...underst..." And, just like that, he was out like a light.

"Uh, Doc?" Clementine snapped her fingers. "Doc...?" She then pinched the bridge of her nose and hissed, "Of course. Fuckin' junkie." She eyed him, then waved her hand in front of his face. "Piece of—" Clementine slapped him across the face. Nope. He didn't even flinch.

Clementine sighed. She was going to be there for a while.

[. . .]

She was warm when she awoke, and everything was quiet aside from the tires against the road, and the hum of an engine. Clementine blinked. She felt small, and dainty, and…stick-like. A newborn foal.

She sniffed, then grinned, nestling deeper against Lee. He was all the comfort she needed. Even in the RV, which Clementine had nearly forgotten about it—what with the train and all. And that she easily got car sick. And that camping wasn't really that fun. And…

Well, that was it. But by Lee's side, his arm around her shoulder, Clementine didn't mind any of the shortcomings.

Her eyes slid towards the back table. She only saw the back of Ben's head—another face she tried to put together, but couldn't quite remember. Although, she saw every angle and line of Lilly's face as the woman sat in the corner of the RV, almost in a daze. Sometime stirred in Clementine's chest, one that she first felt when they were in the RV together, and Kenny—a different one, an innocent one—was driving, and Katjaa and Duck were still alive, but no Carley—

Her jaw tightened as Lilly glanced at her, and Clementine tore her eyes away. She instead focused on Lee's deep breathing, and just how much of a soft, warm cushion he was.

And that was it. No talking. Just the trees blurred through the windows. The hum of the engine. And the remnants of her first family after the Outbreak, back when they were slowly falling apart…

One of the last quiet moments in her life. So simple. So relaxed and detached from the calamity of the world outside.

[. . .]

She awoke with a start, though certainly not at Lee's side. That was...a nice dream. Clementine grinned for a moment, her eyes dancing along the walls. Where was she—

Clementine panicked with a start. She'd actually fallen asleep in the chair beside Dr. Lingard—who was still blacked-out himself. Searching for the source of whatever disturbed her so suddenly, Clementine looked across the dark room, almost getting out of the chair. And that's when it hit her, the sharp ache at the base of her stomach. Clementine pushed against her torso with a fist, which seemed to have dulled the pain.

What the fuck? Did the whiskey poison her?!

Clementine barely moved herself out of the chair before she froze, then she sat back down again. Don't. Move. Anything. "The...fuck...?" she breathed. Another dart of pain was shot into her stomach. She groaned and pulled out her flask. Taking her long sip of the morning, realization dawned on her. "Please...please don't tell me this is happening now."Clementine put the drink away, and she slowly stripped herself from the chair.

She couldn't even utter a word. Clementine was having a very good day until this point. Or night. Was it morning? When... Shit, it didn't matter. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck... God, I can't just—" She wrung her fists. Her eyes slid to Lingard guiltily. "Shiiiit... Uh..."

Hide it. Yes, just hide it. He didn't need to see the chair Clementine bled on. And, fucking hell, this was supposed to be a good day with the apple whiskey and all, wasn't it?

Or the thing she was thinking of wasn't actually happening and the whiskey did—in fact—poison her?

Clementine scanned the room for a towel, or another chair, or anything to hide her embarrassment. She grimaced and rushed to the counter. "Come on...there has to be something..." She found medicine, a box of pads with these purple flowers all over them, surgical tools and vitamins. But nothing that would help her!

Clementine nervously looked over her shoulder to the doctor. He still hadn't moved. "Come on..." She continued to search the drawers once again, bottom up.

The door opened.

She couldn't control the gasp that escaped her, nor the stumble away from the counters. "I—" Clementine blinked, almost choking on her sigh of relief. It was just Javier, looking extremely surprised himself. He relaxed, dropping his shoulders...

Clementine narrowed her eyes at his gushing wound. She didn't leave him with a gaping mouth on his arm. "God, Javi, what happened?!" she asked, her aghast stare darting from his shoulder to his eyes.

He shrugged, and he merely glanced at his injury. "Just got into some trouble, that's all. I came by here to get it cleaned but..." He pointed at Dr. Lingard as a question.

"That...needs more than cleaning," Clementine said before her eyes drifted back towards the stupid junkie doctor. "And he's been out of it since I got here."

"So you weren't able to ask him?" She shook her head. "I see. And...you were looking through the drawers because...?"

Clementine grimaced, arms folded. "I-It's not what it looks like, okay? I was just..." She sighed, her gaze held firmly on his shoulder. "We need to stitch that, Javi," she continued, avoiding the question.

Javier strode to her side and watched Lingard. He arched his brow; there was bruise at the peak of his cheek, and a red hand-mark planted across his face. A mark, which, was very suspicious in its size. And shape. And the outline of fingers. "So I'm assuming slapping him doesn't work?"

Clementine rolled her eyes. "Just... Just forget that. I can stitch your shoulder up."

He chuckled and wandered towards the counters with her, searching through the top drawers while Clementine the bottom. He paused. "Wait...you know how to stitch it up?"

"Mhmm. It won't be pretty, but I can."

With the cabinet door open, he stared down at her. Clementine, on one knee with a drawer pulled, watched him expectantly. "Like...how?"

"It was another thing Christa taught me…" She brandished her left arm that wore a deep, gnarly scar which ran from her wrist to her inner elbow. He grimaced. "Got bit by a dog and stitched it up myself in a shed," she said simply.

"Uh...with what? Fishing wire?"

Clementine gave a laugh of surprise. "Actually, yeah. And a sewing needle. So yours will probably look better. …I think."

Javier grinned and continued his search. "It better. I still have to be dashing for the ladies."

"I thought cool scars brought in all the ladies."

Cheekily, Javier asked, "You think you'll win over Eleanor with that?"

Clementine, gob-smacked, scowled. She then snapped, "What are you talking about?! You're still not going on about that, are you?!"

"You did say you wanted to grope her boobs, Clem."

"Shut up. I was wasted. And she's a nightmare. And she's fucking twice my age! Probably!"

Javier chortled as her cheeks blossomed red. In the back corner of the shelf, he pulled out a white bottle of pills. Reading the label, Javier perked; now this would certainly help with his wound, especially with Clementine's handiwork. "There's some painkiller here...think it'll be useful?"

"Speaking from experience," Clementine answered bitterly, "not a good idea."

Javier held the bottle and glanced at her, guilt-ridden. "Uh...yeah. Right... I can tough it out, and Kate..." He pursed his lips. "She's...tough...and probably had some already..." After talking himself down from taking the medicine, Javier set it back. "Okay...uh...right."

Clementine felt another jolt of pain and gasped, and she clutched her abdomen.

Javier reached for the painkillers without a second thought; he watched Clementine, worried, and asked, "Do you need them? Is there something wrong?"

"I— No, no I'm fine." She clenched her teeth, the pain burrowing itself deep for a moment. "I just..." Clementine paused once the pain left, then stood up. She wrung her wrist and glanced at Javier briefly. "I...started bleeding. I-I know it's a thing," she mumbled, realization slowly creeping onto Javier, "and I've travelled with women before so— I just... I—"

Clementine screwed her face tight, searching for her words. "W-Why does it happen? I-Is there something wrong with us? Is—"

"No! No, no, no, no!" Javier sputtered in a rush. Clementine jumped at his eagerness to calm her, eyes alert. He swallowed and scratched the back of his neck. "No, it's uh... It's a totally normal thing. It's just you—er... Blossoming into womanhood."

Clementine blinked twice, utterly confused. "'Blossoming...into woman—' Wha...?"

"It's normal, everybody goes through— Well, I mean, not everybody. You're the only one in this room that can—" Her eyes darted between Javier and Dr. Lingard. "It— It means you're growing up, and you're becoming a woman and...uh... It's...a...good thing... Heh."

A stretch of silence developed between the two. While Clementine's mind was blank, only replaying the confusing—though ultimately supportive—bundle of words over and over again, Javier's thoughts went haywire. How old was Clementine?! Did he really drink with her?! Did he—

Oh my god, they both admitted to boob stuff.

"Oh."

Her simple utterance jerked Javier back to reality. Clementine looked up at him, and in her eyes he saw an inkling of Mariana. An inkling of a girl that didn't know the world like he did, that needed his guidance. Javier breathed in and out slowly; it felt strange seeing that trusting gaze in Clementine, especially within the hellfire of her stare. And what had Eleanor said? Something lurking in her eyes?

Javier relaxed. All he saw was that inkling. "I uh..." he mumbled, "Kate can explain it when we get back. I don't—"

Clementine waved him off. "Don't worry about me. You're the one with the arm split open."

"Uh...right. Yeah." They went back to searching, switching spots. Javier checked the drawers while Clementine opened the small aid kits that littered the back of the counter. Javier opened the second drawer to the bottom and lit up. "Ah! What a coincidence! These'll be perfect."

With her hand on a kit, Clementine asked, "And...what's that?" He pulled out the stupid flowery box she had found earlier. "Those pad-things...?" she asked, voice monotone.

"These 'pad-things' will help you with...you know."

Once again, Clementine simply uttered, "Oh." Javier handed her the box. "Um...thanks."

"Yep."

Clementine set it aside as she opened the aid kit. "And here's what you need right here." She pulled out the sterilized needle and thread, then the alcohol. "Go sit over there," she said, careful to pick a chair that wasn't dirty—or, well, dirty with her blood.

"Alrighty." Javier began to unbutton his jersey before remembering the bat slung over his shoulder. "Ah, here, hold this." Clementine took it and set it down beside the flowery box. As Javier stripped his shirts off behind her, she soaked the cloth in the alcohol. And when he was sat in his designated chair, Clementine strode to Javier's side.

"Okay...don't breathe," she murmured. Javier held his breath as she dabbed his wound. Other than a minor wince, he didn't move. Clementine frowned in concentration, carefully threading the stitching through his skin. His grip around the chair tightened, and Javier let loose a breath.

As she continued her work, Javier said (if to distract himself), "I... With that stuff before, I'm not really the best at explaining."

"You were fine," Clementine said. "I've had other people try to explain adult stuff to me before, and they really made it weird."

"...what stuff?"

Clementine paused. "Sex stuff."

"Ah..." he breathed.

"Uh, yeah." She tightened the thread, closing part of the open wound together. "It's gross. Especially the dic—" Clementine gagged.

Javier chuckled, nodding softly. "Yeah, it all can be... Like, that doesn't really go away. It's kind of always gross, especially now since nobody takes showers anymore."

"Showers?! You mean people used to do it completely naked?!" Clementine asked, simply bewildered.

Javier winced, and Clementine immediately went back to mending his wound—and patting it, as an apology for tightening the skin a tad bit much during her shock. "Well…yeah. And it's nice—" He paused, frowned, bit through his slight amusement, then turned to Clementine as serious as he could be. "You do know it's called a penis, right?"

"A what?"

"The nicer term for 'dick' is 'penis.'"

Clementine pursed her lips with a tight brow. "Penis…" She grimaced. "No, 'dick' rolls of the tongue better."

And at that, Javier's chortles became harder to contain. "I— Okay, okay," he managed through boyish giggles, "I guess it doesn't matter that much. Not as much as this— Well, yeah. So, this, it just means you can be a mom, if you wanted. You know? It's... It's a good thing."

"I...thought I already felt like a mom," Clementine whispered, focusing on Javier's split shoulder. "With A.J... We were all over the place." She smiled and said, "I remember, we were at this ranch house up in...Virginia, I think? Maybe it was Pennsylvania, I don't know. But I found this trunk and...there was a bunch of stuff there. Food. New shoes. A blanket. My first flask. And these little overalls and bandanna I put on him." Javier shared her smile. "He was so cute in it. He looked like a little farmer."

He barely felt the needle splice into and out of his skin. "That sounds nice."

Clementine nodded slowly, cutting the last of the thread with the needle. "Yeah... Everything went to shit right after that, but...you know, it was nice while it lasted." Quietly, she wrapped his arm with bandages.

She stood up, and Javier felt his shoulder. "It always is like that, isn't it?" He analyzed the stitching. "And I owe you one. Thanks."

With a smirk, Clementine quietly remarked, "Add it to the pile." She threw his shirts at him, then tossed the excess materials in the trash. He slipped the clothing back over his head.

Just as he had the last button done, groaning came from the other end of the room. Clementine, alert, watched Dr. Lingard. "He's awake," she murmured.

Javier followed Clementine to the foot of Lingard's seat as the man groggily blinked himself awake. He stared at the two, processing. "Ah... Javier. I thought you were...rottin' in a cell someplace with your brother..." He frowned. "Did he make it out too?"

Javier nodded, though said, "Joan took him. I don't know if he's alright."

"Poor bastard," Lingard mumbled. "Joan's...she's not one to cross. She'll... She'll be searchin' for you, you know." He lazily gazed to the side. "Oh... And so you too, Clementine... She'll— She'll be searching for you too."

Clementine scoffed. "She can try," she snapped bluntly. "I'm only here for one thing. Lingard... A.J... Is he, is he alright? Is he actually alive?"

The doctor slowly blinked. "Uh, yes... Yes, he is..." He rubbed his right eye with the palm of his hand. "Thanks to David. You, you know, he really stuck out for 'im."

"David?!" Clementine clenched her jaw. "What do you mean David did?! Why— Why'd he tell me to come to you to know where he is?"

"Oh, so that's it..." Dr. Lingard groaned, sinking into the back of his chair. "Yes, David did raise A.J for a while there...after he got better." He choked on his weak chuckle, and he pounded on his chest with a fist. "But he sent him away for better people. You don't have to worry about him no more."

Clementine felt the buzz throughout her body seize, and a fiery jut of anger sent her fist down on the surgical table. The syringe and capsule that rested on its surface rattled. "Just tell me where he fucking is! I need to know, Lingard, he's the only fucking thing I have to live!"

Dr. Lingard paused, watching her with mournful eyes. "Addicts...always understand each other..." he whispered, almost to himself. His eyes switched between Javier and Clementine. Slowly, he picked up the syringe and capsule, and drew the vibrantly-colored liquid through the needle. He dropped the emptied capsule, then stared at the branded symbol on the back of his wrist. "You know...David was the one who saved me. All I wanted...was to die. But...he— He got me to care about people. About myself...this damn place. I could be a doctor again." Dr. Lingard rested his head against the chair. His bloodshot eyes lingered on her for a long moment. "Same as you with that boy, am I right?"

The silence that radiated off of Clementine was unnerving. Javier watched her, apprehensive, as his throat knotted. "Shut the fuck up. I don't care about that right now," she hissed.

Javier swallowed. That wasn't a dismissal.

Regardless, Lingard hummed. "Right… Right. And...with him gone, there's nothing... For you, the boy. For me, David…"

For whatever reason, that snapped Javier from his brief stupor. He shook his head and replied, "Hey, don't say that. There's always something to live for, even if you don't realize it yet."

"Right...right, that's— That's funny." He held up the syringe. "We'll have a deal... Kill me, and I'll tell you where the boy is."

Javier was numb as the doctor slid the syringe into his hand. "I..." He stared at the needle with a stern brow.

Clementine, her eyes kept to the chair, said, "Javi... We— We have to do this. I can't lose A.J..." She looked at Javier, and the uncertainty in his eyes. "Javi?" He frowned. His hand began to tremble. Clementine swallowed. "I can do it," she whispered, sliding the syringe from him. "You don't have to fight in all of my battles."

"I... Okay," Javier stuttered.

She held Lingard's arm, and felt his excitement and relief through his skin. He watched her, his own angel of death.

Clementine put the tip of the needle against his flesh. Her eyes were drawn to his bloodshot ones. "So, where is he? Where's A.J?"

Lingard gave her the barest smile she had ever seen him give. "McCarroll Ranch. It's... It's a few miles west of here," he said, adding, "Thank-you, Clementine."

Clementine hesitated, a knot forming within her throat. "He's..." The distant screams of a baby played in the back of her mind. "He's actually alive."

The needle sunk into Dr. Lingard's arm, and the vibrant liquid was injected into his body. He rubbed the spot when she pulled away. "And, and be sure to take care of afterwards. I don't— I don't want to become one of those things." He relaxed and leaned against his seat. "Now...do be careful 'round here. Joan...she'll be searching for you—and your friends. You... You better hope she...doesn't...find...y'all..." The life drained away in his eyes, leaving him slumped in the chair.

Javier leaned forward, and he gently pressed his fingers against the man's throat. His voice was low: "Dead... He's dead." Clementine reached for her knife, expression solemn. "No, no... I can do this," Javier promised. Clementine held back. Javier was handed her knife; he aimed, and said, "For you, buddy. I'm sorry." Clementine flinched once the blade dug into the doctor's head. Javier pulled it back out and wiped it on his jeans. He handed the knife over. "Come on, let's go. Gabe and Ava should be waiting not too far from here with weapons."

Clementine nodded and followed him out the door.

They walked down the hall, quiet. Their steps were out of sync, something that Javier thought was odd; they were usually on the same page, right? Or, at least, since they met a few days ago. Hell, it has only been a few days, hasn't it? Javier pursed his lips at the thought, turning the corner towards where Ava and Gabe waited. "They should be in one of these..." Javier's sentence died off once he realized Clementine wasn't right at his side. "Uh, Clem?" He turned around. A few paces behind him, she stood, a hand covering her eyes and the other wrapped around her waist. "Hey..." Javier whispered, stepping closer.

"H-He's...alive, Javi," she whimpered. Clementine removed her hand from her tearful eyes. "H-He's actually alive... My boy, he's alive," she cried, and she slowly sunk to her knees.

Javier slunk down to her level and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. He felt her grasp his jersey, melting into his embrace with trembling hands. "I know... I know..." he cooed softly. "It's okay, just... Just let it all out."

"H— He's alive," Clementine repeated. "I can't... I-I can't..."

"It's okay. It's okay." For a long few minutes, they remained uninterrupted in the dark hallway, holding each other tightly. Javier felt a fraction of his heart—only one of the larger pieces that broke away when he buried Mariana—become whole again. He smiled to himself. "Does...this mean he's my cousin?"

Clementine's shuddering breaths became ones of cracked chuckles. "You...moron." She pulled away, wiping her eyes. With a shake of her head, she muttered, "Yes. This means he's your cousin."

[. . .]

They were silent as they listened to Javier and Gabe's idle conversation. A mutual silence—no words needed. Clementine was sure Ava could feel the erratic thoughts that plagued her, and that—at the same time—everything was numb. White noise. They glanced at one another, nodded, then looked away.

Down the halls, around some corners, and the conversation ahead of them grew quiet as well. Clementine wondered if Ava knew she knew about A.J. Maybe. Ava was always good at seeing right through her. That, or maybe Clementine was easy to read.

Either way, for once, she wouldn't have minded the unnecessary conversation. Not that they ever did, during those few moments. But, Clementine wouldn't have minded at all.

And it puzzled her, if she was honest. Not in a bad way though, no…

Perhaps it was because the clouds had lifted after so many months.

[. . .]

As they walked towards the room with Gabe and Ava leading the way, Javier jerked his chin. "You can go and talk to Kate about...this when we get in there," he said, unsure of the words coming out of his mouth. "I'm not great at explaining this sort of thing, and she can...er...help you out." He held the handle for a moment and added, "And she's a good person to talk to. She doesn't get..."

"Embarrassed?" Clementine finished.

"Y-Yeah. Well, I'm not—" Javier stopped himself as Clementine arched her brow; he wasn't kidding her. He grinned meekly and opened the door. "But she will help, I promise."

"Thanks," she mumbled quietly, walking towards Kate's room. Hand on the handle, Clementine took a deep breath before turning it.

Clementine shut the door behind her with a soft click. In the bed was Kate—who was holding her side, previously counting the cracks in the walls. As Clementine came in slow, Kate was grateful to be torn away from her mind-numbing activity. "Hey, so I see you and Javi made it back alright," Kate greeted. She gestured towards the armchair beside the bed (which had definitely seen better days, with its torn fabric and all).

Clementine stood at the side of the bed and eyed the chair. She, softly, rejected: "I don't...think that's a good idea."

Kate blinked. "No?"

"Um...yeah...no," Clementine mumbled. She swayed for a moment, then said, "Javier told me...to see you in private about something."

"Really?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I...um... I started bleeding this morning in the doctor's office, and..."

Kate's smile was warm and somewhat humorous. "Oh, I see. And you told Javi?"

Clementine shrugged. "Yeah, when he got there," she told her. "He said I was...'blossoming into woman-hood' or something and gave me these." She took out the box of pads from behind her, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Especially while Kate just giggled to herself.

"How sweet of him, even if he can be an idiot," she said. Kate watched Clementine for a moment with a sudden thought. "How old are you, Clementine?"

The question took her by surprise. Not because of the moment or the question itself, but Clementine realized that her answer wasn't immediate. She had to search for it. "Oh... I don't really know," she admitted. "What time of year is it now? Like, season...?"

"Beginning of fall?"

Clementine frowned in concentration. "So..." She counted the years that had passed, and said, rather unsure, "Fourteen? Nearly fifteen? I think. I-I'm probably off by a year."

"Really?" Kate said, more out of wonder than anything. "I only asked because you seem a lot older than that; hell, I thought you were a few years older than Gabe."

"And he's...?"

"Turning sixteen in a few months," Kate answered proudly. Clementine nodded, gingerly setting the small box down on the nightstand beside them. "How much of this stuff do you know?"

"Stuff?" Clementine asked, staring at Kate blankly. "I mean, I know women bleed sometimes."

"Yes..." Kate agreed slowly, "but that's just a part of it."

"A part of what?"

Kate sighed, waving her hand lazily towards the armchair. "Go and have a seat. It's not like a little blood will hurt it. And besides," she said, "I wouldn't be surprised if a muerto died in it." Clementine made a face, though sat in it all the same—at the edge. "Now," Kate continued confidently, "what's happening to you is a 'period'. It usually happens once a month for a week or so if you're healthy and eating right."

"Okay..."

"And it allows you to have a baby," Kate explained.

"A...baby?" Clementine shifted uncomfortably trying to imagine herself with a swollen belly—in short, she couldn't. "I thought..." she said with a furrowed set of brows. "I thought that people made babies from sex."

Kate nodded, sitting up in the bed. She winced, clutching her side with tender hands, though braved a comforting smile nonetheless. "Yes."

"What does this...period-thing have to do with sex? I don't— Javi even said something like that and it makes no sense. And naked and ech."

"Oh god. What else did he say?"

Clementine's expression skewed into one of thought. "That I should say 'penis' instead of 'dick?'"

Kate snorted, shook her head, and laughed, "Oh that hypocrite. Don't listen to him, I'venever heard him say 'penis.'"

"Oh," Clementine murmured with a light smile. Though it was quick to falter. As she pondered, she asked, "But…what— Why… Why does this happen?"

Clementine kept her eyes on Kate, eager to understand. And Kate made sure that she would answer her questions. (What was she going to do instead, stare at the wall some more?) "Basically, when you get your period, it means you've become sexually mature." Clementine kept her eyebrows steady and low, and listened with great intent. "Women have eggs, and when they're ready, they travel inside her and wait until she has sex to make a baby." The more Kate explained, the more confused Clementine appeared. "But if that doesn't happen, then the egg will leave the body during her period."

"Oh," Clementine mumbled. She fidgeted with her hands, twiddling her thumbs. "When does the egg come out?"

"Whenever you're bleeding."

She pressed against her stomach as it ached once again. Clementine imagined an egg moving inside of her, knocking against her sides. "But what do women do when it comes out?" she asked.

Now it was Kate's turn to be thoroughly confused. "What?"

"The... The egg? Do we just throw it away?"

"No, not really," Kate said. "We can't see it, it's very small. We can only see it through a microscope."

"A micro-what?"

"A..." Kate blinked, her hands hovering over her lap as she tried to explain. "You know, a microscope. In science labs...?" The amount of puzzlement that blanketed Clementine's face reminded Kate of pure innocence, something far rarer after the hungry dead began to walk. "From school...?"

Clementine shook her head. "No. The last thing we did was when Mrs. Penny let us keep caterpillars as pets," Clementine explained, a youthful smile eradicating all of her scars and lines of stress, "and then we let them go when they turned into butterflies!" She then paused, the fragment of her childhood vanishing as quickly as it had blinked to life. Clementine didn't realize she remembered anything from elementary before the apocalypse.

Kate noted her slight dismay. "Well, was it a fun day?"

"Yeah...I think. I remember letting them go, anyway," Clementine answered. "You never find them anymore, you know? Butterflies."

"Yeah, I didn't think about that... I forgot about them, actually. There's flies though. Always those damn flies." Kate paused. "I guess if you're fourteen or so, you would've only been in first, second grade, huh?"

"…yeah. That's all the school I got." Kate's expression was remorseful, and it shied Clementine away. Though, she nodded and glanced at her stomach again. She pressed with her curiosity-driven interrogation: "But the egg then... Why does it hurt if it's not that big?"

"Not that big? Clementine...were you thinking about a chicken egg?!" Clementine shrugged, lips pursed into an awkward smile. Regardless, Kate began laughing. Uncontrolled. Volumed. Her joyous, carefree laugh was something she hadn't felt in a while (sober)—the last time was years ago with Javier in their van. It felt nice to laugh, even if she needed to quit; Clementine was visibly worried, staring at her in bewilderment, and her bullet-punched side hurt. "Ow...ow..." …like…a lot hurt.

Clementine folded her arms. "That's what you get for laughing..." she muttered with a hint of tease.

"I know, I know," Kate said. "It's just...Clementine, it's not like chicken eggs. They're too small to see."

It had been a while since Clementine blushed to the point she did then. Although, with Kate's endearing giggles, Clementine chuckled quietly. "Well, I got that now, thanks." As they shared another laugh, Clementine felt a question bubble to the surface, one so far left field for her and yet...so natural. Once settled down, she fidgeted in the chair and held her hands together. "W-When... Uh... Kate?"

"Yeah?" Kate answered, her voice soft as she waited for Clementine to brave her question.

The more she thought about it, Clementine felt her face grow hotter—more so than a minute or two prior. She was glad that Kate was laid-back, unlike the few others that had a conversation like this with her; even then, though, she was never told about the period-thing being tied to eggs. Oh how she missed the days when all there was were the kissy-stuff things. "So...er, with...sex... Does it...matter who it's with?"

"As long as he loves you, it—"

"No, no...that's— That's not what I meant," Clementine rushed, flustered. "I mean... Can—" She shrugged, her hands following her shoulders loosely. "Can two...women have...er, sex?" Kate was left surprised, not expecting that from Clementine—especially from observing Gabe's building feelings for her, and his constant worrying over his beanie. "I mean, I know it's usually a man and a woman but...I don't— I don't know if I..."

She frowned. Clementine didn't know if she wanted it with a man. It wasn't a bad thought, though it wasn't her concern either. There was only indifference; but women...nobody told her about that. It was outright avoided during some painfully awkward conversations.

Before Clementine could add on, Kate said, "Yes, they can." She tilted her head to the side. "Do you...like girls, Clem? If you don't mind answering."

"I...uh..." Clementine swallowed. "I mean...maybe? I don't know. I just... Do... How would you know that?"

Kate's smile was motherly. "You know, Mariana asked the same thing when she was really little. 'Kate, Kate, when would I know I like boys?' And I told her that, if you have to ask, you probably already know." She shrugged. "Maybe...it was different then, before everything went to shit. Maybe it was easier knowing and learning these things. But, you'll know, Clementine, you'll know. You'll notice more things that you like, you'll feel new things. It's not an easy thing to teach because most adults don't know what they're doing."

"Oh. Okay." Clementine scratched her neck and drew her eyes towards the end of the bed for a moment. "But does it feel like anything?"

"Intense," Kate answered immediately. "It's one of the best feelings when you're with the right person, Clementine—whomever he or she may be for you," Kate then explained. Clementine suddenly felt a rush of shame; she immediately thought back to the junkyard. Mariana. Her smile and her words, how they made Clementine feel those strange things. Clementine didn't feel it appropriate to say anything. Kate wasn't finished, however, breaking her away from her thoughts: "Though, I'd say it's second to being a mom. I know...I'm not Mariana's or Gabe's mom—or yours—but it's a good feeling."

Clementine nodded, finally on the same page.

"I know what that's like," she whispered, her throat tight. Clementine rested her head on her hand, reaching for her back pocket with the other. She took out one of A.J's scribble-drawings—the only one she had—and showed it to Kate. Immediately, the woman grinned with a soft laugh. "My little goofball drew that after...I had to say goodbye."

"Where is he now?" Kate asked, and she handed back the drawing.

Clementine stared at the paper. "McCarroll Ranch. I think I know where that is... It's further west." Her eyes burned and a tear dropped. As she rubbed them, Kate reached over and stroked her shoulder. "I thought he was dead for so long. He got sick, so I became a part of this place and... They kicked me out after I stole medicine for him. But..."

"It's okay, Clem," Kate murmured, embracing her despite her still-healing wound. "You're very protective, aren't you? You'll get him back."

"I know, and I will. After we get out of this hellhole, I will."

After a moment of silence, Kate pulled away. "Now," she sniffed, "how about we figure out those pads?" Clementine chuckled quietly, her eyes wandering towards the box.

While Kate started to open the box, Clementine said, "Thank-you...really. For not making all of this so weird."

"It shouldn't be," Kate replied. "It's just a part of life. And, in any case, you probably need to know about this stuff more now than back then." She analyzed the box. Clementine leaned in curiously. "Now...okay..."

Yelling erupted from the other room. Clementine and Kate both narrowed their eyes at the door. "YOU'RE THE ONE WHO FUCKING SHOT HIM, JAVI! YOU AND CLEM—"

"I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO, AND YOU KNOW IT!"

Clementine swallowed. She promptly avoided Kate's gaze. As the shouting continued, however, she slid her eyes to the woman. Kate's lips were pursed, focused on the door. Upon realizing Clementine was nervous, she murmured, grimly, "Javier already told me—briefly. I... It's fine, Clem, it wasn't your fault."

"I-I know, just...when?"

Kate furrowed her brows, then shook her head slowly. "You were gone, I think we were heading to the main gate. With my side, I definitely I missed a lot of the things he said. Javi was in a panic." Kate looked at Clementine, curious. "What did happen?"

"Conrad, he—" Clementine held the brand on her arm through her sleeve. "He found out I was a part of the New Frontier, and Javi tried to protect me, but things escalated and— Well, another Eli."

"Eli?"

Clementine felt her stomach slosh. "Oh, uh...yeah..." She fidgeted. "Nobody...told you that?I...accidentally shot a man the night before. Javi and I slept in a cell."

Kate groaned, resting her forehead in her palm. With another long sigh, she mumbled, "You really are trouble, aren't you?" Clementine's shrug was sheepish. Kate shook her head, and something like a bitter, humored grin began to spread. "This is a shit world," she said as the room quaked, the front door having slammed shut with heavy boots stomping down the corridor. "Everything can fall apart just like that. No matter what you do."

"I...yeah." They remained silent in the room for a long time, Clementine absent-mindedly reading the flowery box as Kate counted the cracks in the walls.

[. . .]

"Okay, so we get that truck and then we wait for your call?"

Gathered in the kitchen were Javier, Ava, Eleanor, and Gabe (off in the corner of the room, arms folded), with Clementine and Kate finally out of the room. Clementine watched Eleanor for a moment, pulled in two separate directions: a giddy irk at the base of her stomach that she finally understood (and hated; Eleanor was a fucking bitch, yeah?), and a rush of caution once she saw something stir relentlessly behind Eleanor's eyes.

"What about a truck?" Clementine asked.

Javier eyed her over his shoulder with a knowing look. Clementine raised her hands dismissively. He answered, "It's for getting all of us out of here with David after Joan's little ceremony."

Ava nodded. "Right." She looked out of the window, the full moon just rising. "You better wait a few hours, though. There are still many people awake on shift now. And the further out you go, the more people tend to sleep on their shift at night."

"That's helpful to know," Javier said, adding, "thanks."

"And good to hear," Clementine murmured. "I think everybody needs some rest."

Ava said, "Yeah. You better. There's a lot at stake tomorrow, and it's best to do that with a clear head." She backed away from the group, towards the front door. "Anyway, I'm going to Joan. I'll keep an eye on things, okay?"

"Right, thanks," Javier said, the rest of the group murmuring along.

Gabe sought to catch Clementine's eye as she meandered towards the couch at the corner of the room, stretching. The others sat at the dinner table, further discussing plans. Gabe felt the tension from the table, and he turned away from it eagerly. "Hey, er, Clem!" She looked around. "Oh...um...when Javi and I went to the armory, I saved you this." He offered her a pistol.

Clementine, answered, "It's fine, I have another." Once Gabe was visibly disappointed, she felt guilt rest on her shoulders; did she always have to do that? "Well..." she added, "I guess I need a spare too." Gabe brightened and eagerly handed her the weapon. "Now, I'm going to go take a nap on the couch, so..."

"Oh, goodnight."

She chuckled and shook her head. "I'm only going to be asleep for an hour or two." She sat on the couch. "But, whatever, goodnight." Clementine leaned back, tucked her flask within her arms, and tipped the bill of her cap over her eyes. With a sigh, just like that, Clementine fell asleep.

Gabe kept his eyes on the flask she held and frowned. He turned around, almost surprised to find Javier by his side. "Uncle Javi?" he asked quietly.

"What's up?"

He watched her for a second. "Why...does she carry that thing around? Doesn't she know it's bad for her? Like the weed you and Kate smoke."

Javier's expression grew sheepish, then thoughtful. "Yes, it is. Why do you ask?"

"Well, aren't we gonna do something?" Gabe narrowed his eyes, and turned to Javier. If Javier was truly a friend to Clementine, enough of one to shoot a man over, then... "For her?!"

His uncle sighed, then shook his head. "Come over here. We can give her some space." They strolled into the kitchen, and Gabe constantly looked over his shoulder. Behind the counter, Javier took a knee and rested his hand on Gabe's elbow. Gabriel's fist clenched, but he let the hand stay. "Now," he breathed, "there are...some things you don't quite understand, that I've—me and Kate—have really never told you. And...I know your heart is in the right place. I know you're trying to do the right thing, and you're a lot like your dad in that way. But...Gabe, before I tell you what I have to tell you, you need to keep yourself in line. Control your impulses—something that David has trouble doing."

Javier swallowed, grateful that he maintained Gabe's undivided attention. "I know she's your friend, Gabe, and she's mine too. And...last night, I got to know her very well, probably a lot more than everybody else in this room combined."

"From just a night...?"

"It...was a long one," Javier replied. "Now, with Clementine...what she's experiencing is something that I'm glad you don't understand. It means you're still a kid." Gabe frowned and crossed his arms, pulling away from Javier's hand. His uncle relented, and he rested his knuckles against the ground. "You are, Gabe, yet you are close to being a man too. But Clementine, the things she had to do, the things she experiences, she hasn't been a kid for a long, long time.

"Sometimes adults go through life and hit a low. So they turn to something for support. Drinking. Smoking. Drugs." Javier gave a bitter laugh. "Gambling... It's to avoid a big problem in their life."

"But what about family? Or people?!"

"Gabe..." Javier murmured through clenched teeth, "enough with it. It is done."

He tightened his jaw, a hand firmly planted on his beanie; begrudgingly, he let Conrad go—for now. Gabe pressed, "You don't need to do all that stuff. Fuck drinking. Fuck all those drugs!"

Javier nodded slowly. "And I agree one-hundred percent there, buddy. I do. It's just, that's not always that obvious." Gabe frowned. The concept of not wanting family was foreign. He worked his jaw and watched Javier with minor contempt. That was right. Javier wasn't always around, was he? "And...with Clementine, this is something she will struggle with for the rest of her life. Unlike me, her issues aren't out of selfish reasons or money."

"So? That... That means we have to help her! We can't just—" Gabe struggled to find his next few words. "We can't just let her do that! It's not right. She needs us!"

"Gabe," Javier warned, "buddy, keep your cool, remember? Right now, there's not a lot we can do—"

"Bullshit," Gabe whispered. "We need to help her. Just...we can take it away—"

"Mijo, listen!" Javier hissed. "No, that is not how that works. Gabe, I know you're trying to help, but that is going to cause a lot more problems. Instead of fighting with her, you will be fighting her and the alcohol." He sighed heavily. Javier remembered the fire, before the rum was shared. The way her voice crackled with the flames, and how her eyes surged with the beast within them—warmed by the light. "She's not in a good way, I know you see that. I know. But you need to understand that… She…"

Javier bit his lip and frowned. The words he desperately needed were slow to come. He swallowed, and said, "Clementine has to make that first move. If you do that for her, I-I don't know what she'd do—"

"I can handle it!" Gabe hissed. "She's my friend, and I know she wouldn't ever hurt me!"

"Gabe, no!" Javier snapped. Everything rushed out of him: "We met at gunpoint, okay?! She was robbing me when I still had my hands bound together! I was able to talk my way out of it because I saw there was still good in her, but I was still scared of her, do you understand?! It's why I was willing to give up our van so quickly!"

Gabe folded his arms through his bewilderment. He tried several times to respond, but found that…he couldn't. Javier tightened his jaw and waited; he knew he startled his nephew. After a moment, Gabriel mumbled, "That's not… She's better now. I can still help—"

Javier's sigh was gentle and sympathetic, but he raised his hand. "You can't think of her as someone to fix, Gabe. The only person in the world that can fix Clementine is Clementine," he murmured.

"But—"

"You've got to trust me on this. When the time presents itself, then we can help her. Right now, all we can do is make sure she doesn't end up killing herself because of it."

Gabe's thoughts whirled. Kill herself?! Where the fuck did that come from?! He didn't know. He always thought all alcohol did was make a person erratic. "What?!" He whispered, each word punctual, "But she needs family! She—"

"Clementine is family, Gabe. She already is," Javier said. "We just need to be there for now. And...when she asks for our help, we'll give it to her."

"But what if she doesn't? When could we step in?!"

Javier nodded. "That's always the question, isn't it?" He furrowed his brows. "There will be a time, though. Maybe it won't be as obvious as her directly asking, but there will be." Javier stood up. "Now, you can go and look after her, okay? I'll be over there at the table."

"O-Okay..." As Javier left, Gabe lingered in the kitchen. He held his elbow and looked at Clementine. And slowly, he walked towards her and sat in the chair across from the couch, easing the light tremble of his hand with a firm grip.

[. . .]

She raced across the playground, chasing the butterflies as they fluttered from the teacher's hands. Her fellows were faceless, and their voices were mute. But it didn't stop her, no. The butterflies were dazzling. The colors of their wings were mesmerizing, and she was bewitched by the shapes of every one of them.

And she followed them butterflies through the streets, laughter abound. Her chest felt lighter than it had for many, many years. Road to road, house to house—it all blended together before she ran through the pastures. The horses neighed and bucked and tossed their heads excitedly as they galloped alongside her, awed by the butterflies as well.

By the time the pasture's fencing came, she flew over them with ease, leaving the horses to whinny behind her. The butterflies, their colors lost saturation underneath the daunting sun. As she slowed, the little girl's laughter quieted.

A breeze clipped her cheeks as her hazel eyes looked on. What she found was a wheat field that was vast and never-ending. She swallowed, and to her side sat an innocent tree. The butterflies fluttered into its branches, melding along the wood. By the time she got to its base, there were only leaves. No mesmerizing, bewitching wings to be found.

She looked around, and—slowly—the little girl sat down on the log that rested beside the tree, and waited.

[. . .]

Clementine, for the past few hours, hadn't budged, her flask within her crossed arms and cap tipped over her face. Gabe watched her from his own chair, eyes resting on the flask. Gabe's conversation with Javier came to mind, though he frowned. His father always told him to never take his uncle's words as truth. And that he was a coward behind all of that suave charm. He clenched his fists. But Javier had said... Still, if he couldn't see himselfdrink or smoke, Gabe thought Clementine wouldn't need to either. Yes, she wouldn't need to. Surely.

The plains were calm, a façade masking the morbid reality of the world. Clementine sat alone on the log with the single oak tree shading her. Across the acres and on top of a rolling hill peak were two figures. She squinted. The figures stopped. Before Clementine stood up to follow them, she heard a twig snap behind her.

Gabe stood up and began to walk towards the couch. A floorboard groaned underneath him. He cringed, and Gabe snapped his attention to Clementine. She only stirred and gently rolled a shoulder.

Clementine turned around, her tight grasp around her knife. A small girl in a yellow dress clutched the trunk of the tree, eyes wide. A cold tremor ran up Clementine's spine. This girl… When did anybody come across little girls anymore? "Oh...um...hi there. What are yo—" The girl backed away and ran. "Wait!" Clementine reached for her. "Wait, I'm not..." As she disappeared into the tall grass, Clementine finished her dying sentence: "...going to hurt you."

Her fingers fidgeted around the flask as Gabe reached for it. He paused, his gut twisting sourly. Maybe Gabe shouldn't. "Clementine...?" Was it a dream? Or was she finally getting up? "Are you awake...?"

The urge to tear through the golden grass was all too much for her. Clementine soared across the open fields after the girl, swiping and hacking away at the farmland. "Wait! Come back! Where are you going?! Who— Who are you?!" The girl didn't answer. Clementine didn't really expect her to: the little girl was much afraid of her to answer. "Wait!"

When the first fleck of snow clipped her cheeks, Clementine shivered. Then the chill multiplied. Down her neck. Across her arms. Through her legs. Clementine shielded her eyes as a blizzard swarmed around her, its jagged fury biting her skin. From her arms, Clementine peered into the snow. She spotted the silhouette of the girl. With her throat knotted, she didn't call out.

Gabe stood over her, awkwardly. He scratched the back of his head. "Come on...it's not that hard. Just...think of something, Gabe!" he hissed to himself. From the other room, through the kitchen, he heard Javier and Kate talking to Eleanor. He kept his voice low. "Just...okay, just slip it out and get it away from her and...then... Yeah, and then she'll not find it, not need it and..." He pursed his lips, frowning. "Yeah. Like...cold turkey." Gabe nodded.

He didn't heed Javier's warning. What did his uncle know? Javier was the one who gambled his life away. A coward, sympathizing with a girl who he'd rather have on his side than as an enemy—which Gabe didn't mind, of course. Javier was a coward; he may have cared for her, but Gabe knew they could do something to save her. He knew—and felt, too—that Clementine was far more than a girl to just keep content. She needed to be happy and clean. And Gabe would help by making the first step. The step Javier couldn't make. The coward. Yes, yes...coward. The word replayed in his head like a broken record. Coward. Coward. Coward...

Instead, Clementine charged after her. It wasn't until Clementine stumbled over a hard piece of junk did her chase end. The carcasses of cars littered the road. On all fours, she panted in the snow with great exhaustion. She stretched her hand towards the girl in yellow. "Come here, please... I just... I just want to talk to you!" The girl shook her head frantically before vanishing behind a curtain of white winds.

In frustration, Clementine slammed her fist down into the snow, punching the road beneath. She winced in pain and pulled out her hand. It was raw, and the skin along her knuckles cracked against the cold.

"CLEMENTINE! CLEMENTINE, PLEASE!"

It was surprisingly easy for Gabe to slip the flask from her hand. However, when Clementine suddenly jerked in the couch, murmuring softly, he dropped it onto the floor. Guilt immediately panged him right as the metal clanked, and his head swiveled from the flask to Clementine, then back again. She didn't need it. She didn't need it. Nobody needed alcohol, and so didn't Clem. Yes. Yes.

Gabe swallowed. She... She didn't need it, right? Was that right? Was his father finally wrong and Javier was actually correct for once?

Clementine grasped the sides of her head tightly as she gasped. "No...no...no, no, no... Not this again. Please, please not this again." The blood-wrenching screams of Jane that shook her to the core were abruptly silenced.

"Hey..." Gabe said softly. "Hey...are you... Are you...okay, Clem?" He raised his hand, letting it hang there for a moment.

Clementine shivered. "Not...not again... No...no..." she breathed quietly, her voice rattling at its base.

"Clem...?" Gabe grew worried. What could he do? His heart pounded behind his ears.

A shot fired. Clementine stripped her hands from her face. They were blood-red. A mark of a culprit. A murderer. A killer. She was going to hell. "No...no..." She would have if her parents managed to drag her down with them. "No...no...no...

"K-Kenny... I'm so...sorry," she whispered quietly.

Gabe frowned. "Um...Clem...you're, you're dreaming. You're... You're alright." He swallowed as his voice cracked. Gabe's eyes switched to the other room. He hoped they had noticed by now. That they'd come to his side and fix the mess he made. Gingerly, he touched her shoulder to comfort.

Immediately, eyes of golden whiskey and hellfire snapped open.

He barely had time to react as Clementine pounced, shoving him to the wall. He squeaked. Her iron-clad hand pinned his shoulder down with terrifying ease, ruthless against his momentary struggle; Gabe swallowed, and he stared down the barrel of the pistol. But his eyes flicked to her own. "C-Clem...it's just me... Please...I didn't mean to—"

Oh, what beast lived within them? It had to have been a dragon. And, by God, he woke it from its slumber, didn't he? A monster? Whatever plagued her.

And yet, her gaze fractured. Clementine's eyes widened, and she backed away. She collapsed onto the couch, setting the pistol beside her. "God... You can't do that Gabe... You scared the fuck out of me," she said, hoarse.

"I-I know... I'm sorry."

Clementine groped her hip with a frown. "Where's my flask?"

Gabe's eyes widened. "Oh, h-here..." He quickly handed it back to her. "I...um..."

"Thanks," she grumbled.

"Oh...uh...no...no problem." Gabe tried to even his breathing as he stepped back, only to notice Kate, Javier and Eleanor standing in the kitchen. How long were they there for? What did they see?

Javier strode towards them. "What happened?" he whisper-hissed.

"I...um...I— Well...er..."

"It was another dream, Javi, that's all," Clementine murmured.

Javier's expression grew solemn. "Oh, I see." He met Gabe's eyes. "And you...?"

"Um..."

He sighed and shook his head. "I should've known." Gabe felt crestfallen. "You always do learn the hard way, don't you?" Javier asked softly.

"I..." Gabe glanced at Clementine who paid no mind, nursing her flask. The look in her eyes was blank, her thoughts far, far away. "I didn't mean—"

"I know, Gabe. I know. Just...think about what I said, alright?" He watched Clementine for a moment. "And...that wasn't your fault, Gabe. That's just...what happens. It happened to me too before we got to the junk yard. That had nothing to do with you, okay? It's just why—"

"She drinks." Gabe frowned. In a low voice, so that Clementine wouldn't possibly be able to hear, he asked, "Do... Do you know who Kenny is?"

"Don't ask her that, okay?" Javier murmured. "Just promise me that you'll keep an eye on her whenever things get bad, okay?"

Gabe nodded. He certainly would. Regardless if Javier killed Conrad, or gamble his life away, or shut away his family, Gabe couldn't fathom anything else. Regardless if David told him not to take his uncle's words as truth, if truth itself had proved Uncle Javi's words, then what choice did he have?

[. . .]

They roamed in pairs, Clementine and Javier taking the lead while Gabe and Kate followed. All was quiet underneath the half-moon's light, and Clementine hoped that meant nearly-everybody on shift would be asleep as Ava promised. Behind her, she heard Javier sharply whisper, "Uncle? Do you have the truck in sight?"

She rolled her eyes, glancing over her shoulder. Her small grin was in sharp contrast against Gabe and Kate's befuddled stares. "Uncle...?" Gabe asked slowly. Kate shrugged.

"No, not— Wait, it's there." Right where Ava promised them. Along a chain-linked fence, they looked into the yard. Across them was a metal barn, surely housing the promised truck.

"Alright," Javier whispered, his joking smile wiped away. "Clem, you and I will head inside to get the truck. Gabe and Kate—" he turned to their earnest gazes— "be ready for anything." He pulled open the sliding gate with Clementine armed and ready.

As she took one step through, Gabe scoffed. Both she and Javier turned to him. "Oh I see what's going on," he hissed. "You're punishing me for telling everybody what happened, right? Screw that, I'm going to get the truck, and you stay behind to keep watch."

Javier looked like he was going to wring the boy's neck. He sighed, however, as he anticipated this; if Gabe was mad, it didn't matter why. "We all have a job to do," Javier said, stern. "This has nothing to do with shit. Grow. up. Now is not the time to be thinking about the past, or any petty bullshit."

Gabe frowned, working his jaw for a retort. Clementine inhaled, stepping back through the fence. "Hey, Gabe," she said softly, "I need somebody to watch my back, okay?"

Immediately—to Clementine's relief—he paused, then nodded dutifully. "O-Okay, well somebody has to be look-out."

Clementine pulled a smile over her face, one that didn't reach her eyes. "Thanks." Her smile dropped and eyebrows rose as she saw Kate chuckle from over Gabe's shoulder. "What?" she hissed.

Kate shook her head. "Nothing. Gabe and I will be fine back here."

Clementine nodded, stepping back through the fence. Javier, under his breath, whispered, "Quick thinking."

"It's come in handy before," she replied.

Javier chuckled, following her while Gabe and Kate stepped through, only to remain close to the gate. He looked around, noting how secluded the area was—especially that the fence was the only obvious way out. To his left stood Gabe, who leaned against a brick toolshed. Arms crossed. Eyes narrowed and gaze on Clementine.

There was a heavy sigh. Javier walked to his nephew, who eyed him bitterly the closer Javier was. "What do you want, Javi?"

"Look, Gabe, I understand, okay?" Gabe shook his head with a roll of his eyes. "I know you want to help. I know you want to do the right thing, but there's a lot at stake, and we need everybody to do their part, and do their part well. You know? Clem and I can't watch our own backs while trying to pull a damn truck out."

"I— Yeah, I get it," Gabe spat, "but that's the problem. She— She's my age, and you don't treat her like a kid! But you do with me!"

Javier closed his eyes, and he slowly inhaled. "Gabriel." His voice shook through his effort to control it. "What did I tell you not two fucking hours ago?! She. Is not. A kid. I told you. She grew up too fast, okay? Clementine had the luxury of being a teenager stolen from her. She can't just fuck up and it be okay—"

"What, so now I'm a fuck-up?!"

"No, that is not what I said."

"I-I— I don't care what you say! I get that she's not like me, but you're the one that killed him! You're the one who threw his life away, and— I can't tell if what you say is good enough after that!"

Javier grabbed the air in front of him tightly. He swore this kid was like a pendulum. "Good enough? Good enough?! Have you not learned a single damn thing I've taught you?" He planted his hand against his chest. "Gabe, you sacrifice for family—that's what my mama and papi told all of us! And now, it's real. You have to sacrifice for your family! He had you, and I was scared. Don't you remember that?! He had you at gunpoint, and I didn't want you to die!"

Gabe swallowed, and his eyes stung. "W-Well, well you— You— What makes you think Clementine knows that more than I do?"

Javier deflated, his strength and anger seeping out of him. "Because, buddy," he said weakly, "she knows what it's like. She knows what it means to kill for survival." Gabe's face softened, his eyes drifting towards Clementine. "She drinks..." He watched her lean against a wall tiredly, eyes sunk to the ground as she ignored the walkers clawing the blocked paths. "And drinks..." She reached for the flask, and brought it to her lips; from there, Gabe could barely see the numbing pain as the alcohol slipped its way down her throat. "To forget that. Do you understand now?"

His nod was soft. Dismal. Gabe's gaze wandered to Javier with a solemn curiosity. "Kenny...?"

"Do not ask her that."

Javier stood up, eyes to Clementine as she stashed her drink, wiping her mouth. The words from the past couple of days haunted him. "'For all we know, you talk to her, and she might not be completely sober.' ... 'There's something in her eyes I don't like... Some say she killed Eli in cold blood. Did she?'"

Though, the ghost of his own were far, far more devastating: "'You're not drinking to kill yourself, are you? You're drinking to forget how to live...'"

And then he froze. It wasn't a lie, but Javier felt his words weren't the truth either. The dead doctor spoke again, just as drawled and exhausted as before: "'All I wanted…was to die. But…he— He got me to care about people. About myself…this damn place. I could be a doctor again… Same as you with that boy, am I right?'"

Javier tore himself away from Gabe, who remained just as mute. As he searched the area—along the sides where muertos were blocked—, he couldn't shake the words that unnerved him so: "'I don't care about that right now.'"

That wasn't a no. And Javier? He didn't know if it was a yes or not—and that frightened him. His unsettled nerves crawled up his back; maybe Gabe had a point. Not that he understood Clementine like Javier did, but rather his nephew caught something his uncle didn't. Something that Javier didn't want to believe.

"'Right… Right. And…with him gone, there's nothing. For you, the boy…'"

All of the construction vehicles in the lot were too slow. Too small. Nothing that Javier wanted. And while, for a moment, that was all he could think, Javier's thoughts drove him back to Clementine.

He noted Clementine's focus on the semi-closed garage. At her side, he asked, "How are you holding up?"

"Like shit." With a twisted smirk, Clementine looked up at Javier. "Nothing new." Javier chuckled lightly, though they subsided within a short few seconds. Clementine caught on. "What?"

Javier shook his head. "It's…well, uh…" It wasn't nothing. He would've kicked himself for even thinking it. Javier breathed deeply, and he watched Clementine. "I just," he whispered quietly, "Gabe's been…acting up, I guess? Like any teenager does."

"Uh huh…?" Her tone was dry, though Javier picked up her concern.

"He's fine," he assured, "but…he did raise a good point. Well, indirectly. He's, uh…"

"Javi, spit it out."

Javier froze, and he felt some of the color in his face drain. He scratched the back of his neck. "It's just, Clementine… Are you…?" Her brow arched, and he stared into those eyes of hellfire for a long moment, trying to work out the question. Javier swallowed; he saw that the hazel in them had shifted during their time together, from the inferno at gunpoint to the quiet, crackling fire at the foot of the garage.

"Are you…suicidal?" he asked quietly.

Clementine was startled. And yet, her answer was slow to come. She frowned, and her face hardened—not out of malice or anger, like Javier half-expected, but instead of confusion and unease. "I…" she breathed. "I don't know."

"Clem—"

She turned away from him and held her arms. "I already told you," she growled, "I can't."

"That's not the same thing."

"I know it isn't," Clementine snapped, striking the same bout of tremors in Javier's chest as she'd done the first time they met. The inferno in her eyes had crawled back to consciousness. "But I'm still alive." She blinked, and when Clementine saw Javier's concern, she breathed and murmured, "I just don't either way, okay? I don't. I just need A.J back."

Javier nodded. "And you'll get him back. I believe in you."

"Right." Javier almost reached for a hug, but she was still guarded. Her eyes flicked back to the garage. With a cleared throat, and her voice somewhat lighter, Clementine said, "And, uh, there's some wheels under that."

Javier strolled to the garage door, numb, and crouched to look below. "There it is," he breathed with a small grin. Of course. An armory-truck. Safely tucked away from the open. "Come on," he whisper-hissed. Together, they pushed the garage door open. Clementine and Javier then slinked beside the truck, away from the view of the small office in the corner. With his hand on the door handle, Javier grew nervous. "What are the chances?"

Clementine worked her jaw in thought. To lighten the mood, if anything, she murmured, "I'd say, fifty-fifty."

A deep, anxious breath, and the company of Kate and Gabe to boot, Javier pulled it open. He released his shaken breath with, "Smart-ass." As he began to clamber over the seats, searching for the keys to the ignition, the lights went on in the office, blanketing the side of the truck in rows of light. "Shit!" Javier ducked down, resting against the tire. "How are they up now?!"

Clementine groaned, muttering, "Early bird catches the worm, I guess."

"Yeah, right." Javier grumbled a few rude vowels as Gabe and Kate joined them on their knees. "And what's in that?" He directed his chin to her hip, eager to stomp out his sudden rush of nerves. "Turning you into a funny guy, all of a sudden?"

Her short answer was almost gleeful: "Apple." So apple was the recipe for a smart-ass—go figure.

Javier rolled his eyes. With a plan in mind, he said, "Okay. We're not going to be able to start the engine without attracting a lot of attention. Kate, you steer while the rest of us push from behind. We can get distance before heading off."

Kate nodded. "Right. How far do you think?"

"Far enough that we're driving, and they're running." Kate slowly opened the door a fraction more and slipped inside.

Gabe followed Javier and Clementine towards the back. "I'm ready," he said. Javier nodded appreciatively, leaning against it. Gabe locked eyes with Clementine for the briefest of moments. While she watched Javier, Gabe rested his gaze on her hands. The hands that took lives. The hands that killed.

Kenny's killer.

Only...he couldn't think of Clementine as a killer. That... That couldn't've been true. Yet, deep down, he knew it was.

Javier murmured, ordering them to push. With his lead, they did so, gradually rolling the armored truck out of the garage.

In the center of the open space, Gabe remained quiet as Javier and Kate murmured to one another. "I couldn't find the ignition key. You're going to have to hotwire it."

Gabe glanced at Clementine, who appeared to be analyzing the car. She grumbled at the news, muttering, "Can't ever catch a fucking break."

Curiously, to numb his frantic thoughts, Gabe asked, "What do you mean?"

"I need a car," Clementine said, and then added somewhat guilty, "and your uncle and I have that deal."

"Oh. Right."

Javier—having gone and found the needed tools in a nearby box—got to work as Kate circled the truck, watching the men in the office through the garage. Clementine pulled out her knife, eyes out on the walkers that reached through the boarded walls. Light exploded from the truck, and not a minute later, so did several walkers through a wall.

"Javi..." she hissed, snaking around the side. "Javi! Hurry up!"

"I know, I just— Fuck. There!" The engine roared, raising the groans of the walkers around. He raised his voice for Kate: "Let's go, now!" All four immediately hurled themselves for the truck as men and walkers alike charged after them, from the sides and garage respectively. Javier didn't hesitate. They charged out of the area, all grinning victoriously to themselves as the men were left swarmed by the undead.

[. . .]

Only one streetlamp flickered as the truck rolled to a stop on the quiet street. In the horizon, the morning colors started to seep into the sky, overtaking the vibrant purples and blues. Javier put parked alongside the curb with a sigh. "We can stop here. We're a few blocks away, and we'll be safe."

Beside him, Kate said, "And while we wait, we'll watch the sun come up."

"We have something better to do," Gabe said, pulling out a deck of cards. "I'm gonna teach you how to play Euchre."

Clementine arched a brow as she sipped on her flask. She eyed him and leaned against the back-bench opposite of Gabe. Swallowing, she asked, "Uh...what? Is that a real thing?"

"Sure it is!" Gabe said, handing her a hand of cards. "Come on, I'll show you. So..."

Kate chuckled from the front seat, eyes back in front. "Oh, it's nice having two kids in the backseat again. Takes you back, doesn't it? Just you and me, Gabe and...Mari."

Javier nodded, his smile a gentle one. "Yeah, oh yeah. Those were good times. Out on the road, going wherever... It's, it's hard to think about now, but..."

"I know," Kate whispered. "It... It is."

"Why the fuck does this game have to be so convoluted?!"

At Clementine's competitive frustration, Gabe laughed. "I gotcha!"

"No, that— That's not even a good rule!"

"Still gotcha..."

Warmly, Kate said, "Guess he's stopped playing it cool with her."

To say Javier was confused was a bit of an understatement. "Hmm?"

"Uh, in case you haven't noticed, Gabe's got a little crush on Clementine," she whispered cheekily. Javier's eyes widened, and he looked into the back; he caught Gabe's glance (and grin) directed right to Clementine as she glared at her cards. "He like-likes her, you get it?"

Javier chuckled and turned his attention back to Kate. "Well, can't say I'm that surprised. Must be nice seeing a girl his age," he said quietly. "But..."

"But?"

He glanced at Gabe once more in pity. "I have a feeling Clem's a little heartbreaker, and I'd hate for that to happen."

Kate nodded. "Yeah. I know, it's just nice that Gabe's a bit more cheerful, right?" She thought for a moment. "Did she tell you...?"

"What?"

She shrugged. "Oh, during our talk, she asked some things. About...girls." Javier snorted. "What's so funny?"

Javier shook his head. "No, it's just..." He leaned in, with a flat hand shielding his mouth from the back. "You didn't hear this from me, but she has a little thing for Eleanor."

"Oh?"

Javier giggled quietly, and added, "Especially..." He pointed at Kate's breasts.

Alongside him, Kate was in a fit of chuckles—all of which only grew once Gabe asked, "What about Eleanor?"

Javier turned around with a wide, boyish grin. Gabe was oblivious, and he patiently watched his uncle for an answer. Clementine, however, was a stark red in the cheeks, eyes sharp. "Oh, it's nothing Gabe. Just go back to your game." Gabe nodded suspiciously, though his eagerness to spend his time with the girlhis age overruled his list of questions. Clementine focused her eyes on the cards, mirroring Gabe, aside from her hand in the air, finger out. It only added to Javier's chortles.

"Even then, I think it's good for him. To feel something so natural?" Kate continued, giggles subsided (her damn side was still sore). "You rarely get that now, you know? And now, for a few minutes, they can just be and not worry about that."

"Stop cheating!"

"I don't know the fucking rules!"

"But I just told you them!"

"I don't care! I'm going to win!"

Javier grinned. "I wonder how they'd be if everything stayed normal. You know?"

"Yeah...yeah..." She shook her head. "It's not fair. I know we tried our best to let them be kids, raise them right, but...the shit they see. I can't even... Mariana. I couldn't save her from that. She didn't deserve it. Neither of them did."

"You did what you could," Javier said. "It's not your fault, trust me. They still experienced growing up, you know? At least that's something they both have that Clementine..."

Kate pursed her lips, nodding. "She could teach Gabe a thing or two, couldn't she?"

"She could teach all of us a thing or two."

"You two really are two peas in a pod, aren't you?"

Javier floundered over his words. "Well, I mean, we got to know each other well in the past few days. It's... Yeah, I guess." He listened to the card game in the back for a few moments, then watched Kate. Her eyes were to her lap, focused. She was debating something, Javier knew. "Kate, what is it?"

"Before... Before whatever happens when that sun comes up, I... I have to ask you. ...this thing between us? It's confusing and, and we've had moments but, I just want, I-I want to give it a chance. We might not get another, and...and I just... Maybe, maybe I should have stayed quiet. I—"

He answered his thumping, joyful heart. It was abrupt. He felt like she'd slapped him (so delightfully) in the face. But, well: "Let's go for it," Javier said, eager. "We got to try, right?"

Kate nearly jumped in her seat. "Oh my god, really?" As words rushed out of her mouth, Javier leaned in, and pecked her lips. And once he pulled away, he smiled. Javier caught Clementine's blank stare, her flask at her lips. He blushed in turn, only able to meekly shrug as she rolled her eyes and took her sip; as she put away her flask though, Clementine's small grin was supportive.

"Uh...right, here," Gabe mumbled, ignoring whatever happened in the front (he didn't want to know; well, he knew, but… Stupid adults).

Javier turned back to Kate and paused. He noted her slight frown, which was enough to cover her smile and kind eyes. "We're... We're going to have to tell David, no? I didn't want to before because, you know, we didn't...but it's right. He has to know, even if we were pulling apart."

"Yeah," Javier whispered. Fuck. David. He scratched the back of his neck. "I... Yeah. We can do it. We have to." They sat, finally acknowledging the barrier that had separated them; they danced around it, they avoided it, but now, knowing the barrier will have his heart shattered, they knew they had to brave it.

In the back, Clementine thought as she stared at the cards in her hands. "It's not an easy thing to teach because most adults don't know what they're doing." Yeah...no shit.

Ava's voice erupted from the walkie-talkie in the cup-holder. "It's an execution out here. Joan's planning to kill David in front of the whole crowd!" Clementine felt her gut itch. She strode over, mindful of the low ceiling. "Don't bring the truck over here, they'll kill him right away! Just get into the squa—"

The itch grew to a punch. Clementine looked at Javier, worried. "I don't trust this, Javi," she said. "Something's not right."

"Shit, I know. We got to get over there, now!"

Kate nodded in a rush. "I'll watch over the truck and pull in once you're ready. Go!"

Clementine, Gabe and Javier jumped off, immediately set to a dash once their feet touched the ground. Clementine's eyes wandered in between the alleyways. The crowd took up all of the city's square. She swallowed. Clementine made sure her hand was ready for her pistol.

Her gut never told a lie. There was foul play afoot, which followed Clementine like the plague.

[. . .]

All it took was one gunshot.

One gunshot, and Joan's fallen body.

Clementine ducked into the subway entrance. Everywhere, dirt rose and stung her eyes. Everywhere, people crumpled to the ground. Everywhere, bullets rained. She added to the hail of gunfire, managing two or three casualties before Javier swooped in beside her. "You were negotiating! Why the hell would you shoot her?!" she snapped between each bullet.

"Don't tell me you wouldn't've!" Javier barked back, firing a few rounds into another man.

Clementine scowled. "You and I both know I'm not exactly a saint— Fuck!" As tear gas was hurled over the short wall of cover they had, Javier's walkie-talkie buzzed. He answered Kate, hacking on his own coughs, and they both rushed out from the subway entrance. Clementine couldn't hear the conversation through the insistent ring in her ears. She only caught the last of it:

"No, no! Kate!" Javier growled to himself.

Clementine felt the moment freeze as she watched the armored truck barrel down the street. Within the sun's early morning glow and haze of dust was pure chaos. People stumbled. People lost balance. People perished.

She ran. She remained steady. She killed.

It was only until Javier shoved her out of the way of the truck did she finally plummet to the road.

[. . .]

The screams outside were distant through the single door, which had been hastily barricaded. In the stairwell, they were bathed in red light, hiding the blood that stained their clothes. Blood of innocence.

"This should be good. Nobody's getting through that anytime soon." Javier set his hands on his hips as the group eyed the door blocked by an array of furniture. Walkers scratched from the other side though it didn't budge.

David turned to Gabe. "You put up a good fight out there," he said, undoubtedly surprised.

Clementine could almost feel Gabe's equal shock from beside her. "Hey...Dad." He grinned softly. "I'm glad you made it out."

Kate—whose eyes were kept to the door—remained unconvinced of their security. "Joan's probably looking for us," she murmured, incredibly worried. A pang shot through Clementine's gut—the same one she felt rip through her once Javier forced the bullet into Joan's temple.

"No," Gabe said, eyes narrowed and grin snatched away. He pointed to his uncle's chest. "Javi shot her!"

"What?!" Kate looked at Javier for confirmation, her worry completely replaced by bewilderment. Javier backed away from her out of his unsure guilt, hands raised.

But before Javier could give any confirmation, David gave it to her: "Good riddance," he growled.

Gabe ignored him. "I heard you two, you were negotiating! You didn't have to kill her!"

"She was lying, Gabe!" Javier said, arms raised higher. "I couldn't trust a word from that woman! I didn't believe she was going to hold up her end of the deal, and David would be dead!"

"So why didn't anybody shoot us?! We were outnumbered, and they only shot after—"

"Javi's right," David argued, stepping forward. "Joan had to go. I would have done it too."

"That's because you don't mind killing people, do you?" Gabe snapped. He balled a fist as he added, "I'm tired of being told people have to die!"

"Gabe," Javier said, "that's not fair. You know—"

Gabriel scowled, shook his head and walked towards the other side of the stairwell, behind both his father and uncle. "Hey! You do not walk away from me!" David snapped. "When someone speaks to you, you stand up and answer them!"

Javier put out his arm between them. "Hold on, David. Gabe's not a little kid anymore—"

"So you're saying you allowed him to do this?!"

"No. He does need to answer," Javier said, glancing behind him, "but you can't just blow up either."

"I-I'm just!" David sighed and stepped forward. "I'm trying to protect you, Gabe. I lost you once...and I won't let it happen again. Okay?"

As Gabe digested his father's words, Javier said, "Just be glad we made it out alive."

"Right." The silence was swallowed by the dead outside, who'd found a new victim to claim. Clementine held herself, feeling very out of place in the family's dispute. She kept her eyes down, which had the bill of her cap shadow her face, and her fingers drummed her bicep. Maybe she could take a sip from her fla—

"We need to check the other entrances. Make sure they're secured." She blinked and jerked her attention to David, whose gruff words were quiet. He walked to the stairs leading to the basement, then turned around. "Do you want to help, Gabe?" His sone didn't speak, far too stunned to do anything. "Gabriel?!"

Javier, gently, said, "You can go help him."

"Alright..."

Clementine, with her eyes steady on David, frowned. "I'll go help too." David turned towards her with a hint of gratitude. Once she narrowed her glare, however, he swallowed his appreciation.

He walked down the stairs, Clementine and Gabe behind him. They removed themselves from the cracked sunlight—split through the few windows—and into the dismal bank of shadows. There weren't many lights the further they went, which surprised her; she knew that basements of huge buildings like this usually had a plethora of them. Though, she caught how many of the bulbs were fractured and wondered if something happened. Probably. It was usually the case, anyway. Clementine could only imagine what happened the weeks of the Outbreak.

She tightened her jaw as Gabe lagged behind, leaving David by her side. It took a few moments of anticipation before David began to speak in low mutters: "How'd Lingard die, Clementine? You were there, weren't you?"

"He felt nothing. It was from some drug he had in a syringe. He asked me to," Clementine answered. "Javier only stabbed him so he didn't turn." David nodded, and she felt an air of impression around him. They walked onwards, down the halls. With each door they passed, they found that the majority had been blocked from years ago—stacked with heavy furniture, dust and the occasional mold. "I know where A.J is," she murmured.

"And you're actually going after him?"

Clementine sneered. "Of course I am. He's all I have left."

At another door, Gabe took the initiative and started to drag furniture to close it off. David stepped forward to help along with Clementine, but he shook his head. "I got it, okay?"Gabe mumbled.

David frowned, though left it be. There were other matters. "He's safe, okay? There's no need to 'rescue' him, Clementine."

"That isn't going to stop me. I was there when he was born. I was the only one who took care of him. I watched his first steps! I fed him!" Clementine glared at David. "And you took that away, but now I'm getting him back once all this hell is gone."

Gabe walked past them, ignoring David and side-stepping around Clementine. "And...I get that." The calm in David's voice caught her off-guard. "I do. We're more alike than you think."

"Are we now?"

David's gaze slid to her, and he nodded. "You'd be one of the best soldiers there was. You thrive in this world, don't you?"

Clementine clenched her jaw. "You don't know shit about what I do in this world. I survive, like everyone else."

"Alone. Not even an adult." David chuckled. "Tell me, what was one of the first things you did when this war started?"

"Hid in my treehouse." Once it popped out of her mouth, Clementine internally cursed.

"Pretty smart for somebody that age," he said. "And I'm assuming you weren't a drunk—"

"Do not call me that."

David ignored her. "Well, even with that drink, you've been a little terror around here for the runners, haven't you? You do know that the one girl's nose is never going to be straight again, right? It's still broken. Her jaw is still fractured. She can't eat like she used to, you know." Clementine remained silent, almost an apology. David hummed with a firm brow. "Let me guess, you didn't take anything for granted, did you? All this time? Right from the start? You understood what this meant. You never underestimated anything." He kept his gaze forward, sure that Gabe was listening by his slowed pace. He continued anyhow: "And all the other kids around you couldn't cope, did they? Oblivious to every sign, or crumpled under the pressure. Got bit. Panicked. You never did that, did you? You always knew how live when needed, and how to kill when needed."

"I get it!" she snarled. Clementine knew that Gabe was listening by the way he had almost tripped over himself at David's last few words. But Clementine continued, and hissed, "I wasn't fucking like all the others! That doesn't mean I'm like you."

"And yet..." he lowered his voice to a soft hiss, "you took my extra flask." Her fist tightened. She ignored Gabe who finally wrenched his eyes over his shoulders.

David ignored him too, and instead watched her, pitifully. "I don't belong in cities, or a home, or any other civilian community. I belong out on the field. But I am still human, like you." They pressed forward, turning the last corner. "I have the same dreams as you. I sometimes see things that aren't there. The people I've killed haunt me."

Clementine's halt was abrupt. Her eyes stung, and her teeth were bared. He stopped and put his hand on her shoulder. "You are a soldier, Clem. You belong in this world, whether you like it or not. It is second nature. You are like me, and I know you hate it. You want to be like my brother, don't you?"

"Who I want to be is dead. That's. It."

"I know. I see it in your eyes." Clementine stared at him, blind to Gabe, who was pale, as he watched their conversation. "I see all of them in your eyes... Men. Women. …children. Friends and family. Absolute strangers." Clementine backed away, the color draining from her face. "I see them all…" he whispered. She stared into his eyes. They looked so tired all of a sudden. He shared her exhaustion of the world. Of life.

David asked one final thing before leaving her for his son:

"Do you see mine?"

[. . .]

Back at the room, David opened the door, and Clementine found a man lying on the couch, a woman beside him, Javier, Kate and— She narrowed her eyes. Eleanor. There was no giddy irk anymore, only seething anger. She knew that Eleanor was scheming. She had a chance to stop her. Shoot her between her eyes. Anything. Anything instead of sleeping on the couch.

The room, though, had a strange tension. It was eerily calm aside from the worried whispers by the couch, like a terrible storm had just passed. Clementine kept her livid surge to herself. Reason bled into her thoughts. Eleanor was a nurse and, she regretted to admit, the only one for miles at that.

"Fern and Rufus..." David whispered. Clementine slipped her gaze back to the couch. "What's wrong with them?"

Eleanor, throat cleared, said, "Bitten. He's slipping in and out of delirium."

"Ida," Rufus croaked. "We have to find our daughta... We..."

"Oh my god," Javier breathed, just within earshot of Clementine, "that's the man I let go." Clementine watched Rufus closely. The semi. Her tree. Clementine swallowed. Javier bound by his wrists. And then, her shotgun. The chocolate he would've given to Maria—

"Let's give them a minute, so—"

Fern, holding an axe, cut across Eleanor. "Y'all get over here! You gotta... You gotta cut his arm off!" Everybody stared for a moment. The woman was spastic, trembling out of raw desperation. It was a wonder how she could hold the axe, even with her sturdy arms and strong hands.

Eleanor shook her head. "We can't. I'm sorry, he's too far along."

"Bullshit! It's only been a few hours!" Fern snapped. She pounded her chest with the flat edge of the tool. "I've seen it work before!"

"Do you want his last moments alive more painful than they need to be?"

"I just want to try," Fern said weakly, with cracks in her tone. "I can't lose everyone. Please!" Javier shifted, and Clementine felt her gut twist. Fern had noticed as well. His pity, and his heroic nature. "Please, I'm begging you. Please."

"I... I-I can try," he mumbled hoarsely. Javier took the axe with a slight tremble and strode to the couch. David met him, pulled out Rufus' arm onto the pushed coffee table, all while ignoring Eleanor's pleas.

"I'm telling you, this isn't—!"

Javier winced, though he aimed nonetheless.

Clementine didn't expect the arm to be sliced off in one swing. She grimaced immediately once the room was refueled by a cataclysm of emotion. Rufus howled in pain, and blood poured unceasingly out of his arm. Clementine's eyes darted for anything—a rope, tape, string—as Javier and David backed away, startled out of their minds. However, Rufus' cries were extinguished within a moment. And it left the room to dip in a long, still silence.

"Rufus?" Fern shook his shoulder. Her quaking tremors of desperation distorted into those of fear. "Rufus?!"

"I..." Javier stuttered. "I didn't... Fern, I—"

Fern cried into her husband's shoulder as Eleanor, mindful to speak as gently as she could, growled, "I told you it wasn't going to work! And the blood-loss didn't help either!"

"I just—"

A pistol aimed for his head, and it promptly raised his arms.

"YOU! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! I'VE LOST EVERYTHING!" Fern exploded, burying her request in the back of her mind. All at once, her tremors had subsided to be replaced by a sudden, blinded anger.

"I tried! I didn't mean anything to happen!"

"THE WALL! THE HERD!" Fern continued. "EVERYTHING!"

"I—"

Kate stepped in between them, the first thing she managed to do within the minutes Clementine was there. "No! Fern... It was my fault!" she pleaded, pausing the widow's hysteria. "I-I'm responsible for the wall! It was me…! Forgive me, please! I want to make everything right!"

Fern's arm remained in the air. She trembled, tears streaming when—

Clementine gasped at once when David strode forward, snatched the woman's wrist to punch her elbow inwards. Fern shrieked, crumpling to the ground as David continued to the couch. With her gun in his hands, he fired at Rufus, silencing the man mid-groan.

"DAVID!" Kate bellowed.

"Dad, what are you doing?!"

Amongst the angry yells, Clementine could only manage a "What...the fuck...?!" She exhaled sharply and snapped, "David?!"

David stood in the middle of his mess, watching his family (and Clementine, and Eleanor) in surprise. The amount of confusion that reeked off of him was baffling to all those in the room—aside from Clementine, who felt a pained twist of familiarity. She wanted to vomit just to avoid the thought.

With the grace she never could grasp, Javier said with his mellow sympathy, "You didn't need to break her arm! That was too far, David!"

"Okay..." David blinked, still absolutely puzzled. "Don't thank me."

Fern moaned in horror, and shuffled backwards along the couch's side. David's handgun aimed for her head as she nudged the pistol beside her. "No!" Gabe yelped, lunging for his father.

No hesitation. David swung at Gabe, sending him to the floor without looking.

At the sound of Gabe's grunt, David jerked and blitzed around. "Gabe! I'm sorry, you know I didn't mean to—!"

"You were going to kill her!" Gabe coughed.

"She was going for her gun!"

"She's scared, Dad! No she wasn't! Look at her!" David did. All he found was Fern curled against the coffee table, her dead husband lying on the couch. Feet away from the pistol. Weeping. "What the hell, Dad?! She can't even stand up!"

"He—" Javier got to his knees beside his nephew. "He was just doing what he thought was right, even if it was overboard."

David growled to himself. "I didn't mean to do that, I'm sorry! You know I am!" Everybody backed away from him. He frowned. "Why are you all looking at me like that?"

"Just, they're scared, David," Javier said, hands still raised.

"Of what?! I'm protecting them!" he snapped, and he forced his handgun to the floor with each point.

"Then why are you waving a gun at us?!" Kate asked.

Clementine watched David as he looked at the weapon, and then slowly slid it into his holster. "So...I'm all alone," he whispered softly, defeated.

"We're more alike than you think..." She glowered, and Clementine raised her head. David gazed at the line of people facing him. Alienating him. His eyes briefly rested on her. "I see them in your eyes... Do you see mine?"

Of course she did. It was one of the first things she knew about him. And she hated it. She hated it more than she hated recognizing Eleanor's beauty.

"Fine then," he grumbled, and she saw the people inside them—clearer. Men. Women. Friends and family. Absolute strangers… But no children. Something fidgeted deep in Clementine's chest. Was she worse…? Was she truly the monster?

She frowned. If she didn't have her own Gabe or Javier, would she have killed Fern? And the truth she didn't want to realize? Clementine didn't know.

David's muttering snapped her eyes back to him. He strode forward, towards the door. "You people are on your own." The door slammed behind him.

"Such an asshole," Gabe whispered in excruciating disappointment.

Javier and Kate stepped to the door. As Gabe went to Clementine's side, she heard Kate murmur, "I've seen that look in his eyes before. You should go talk to him."

"I will."

Once Javier closed the door behind him, Kate focused her gaze out of the window. Clementine listened to the screams and mangled groans in the distance, and the whimpers from Fern at the couch. "We should sweep the perimeter to see if we can find people," Kate murmured quietly.

Clementine, in the same manner, replied, "Okay. I'll…do that." Together, with Gabe following her, the three walked down the hall, careful to avoid the despaired people along the sides. At each window, they looked on, only to find chaos. The closest people to the doors were long since dead, and the gunshots that fired were too far away.

Kate didn't care, however. She frantically searched for a person in need every chance she got. Gabe fired at a few walkers from dozens of windows, only for the innocent on the road to be overtaken anyway.

Clementine swallowed after several long grueling minutes of this; she felt her heartbeat pulse in her palm against her pistol's handle. They had almost completely circled the building when cracks of gunfire—from outside—rang in her ears.

The three all froze and looked at one another. "There's somebody here!" They threw their heads towards the closest window, and Clementine gasped.

"Fuck! It's Ava!"

Her heart pounded. In the back of her mind, Clementine came to a conclusion that was quick to overtake her: she needed Ava. And...Ava needed her. Right then and there.

She charged towards the stairwell, shoving the door open. "Stay up here and cover her! I'll get her in!" she barked. Kate and Gabe nodded and smashed a window open. The cracks of their bullets echoed down the steps that Clementine flew down. At the foot of the stairway, there was a door. "God damn it!" she hissed.

The door was blocked by a hefty bookshelf, stocked full of odd items. Hurriedly, she scooped the items on one shelf and hurled them to the floor in a single motion. Then the next shelf, and the next. Once all the shelves were clear, she heard Kate call out to Ava: "STAY BY THE DOOR! CLEMENTINE'S DOWN THERE!"

Clementine didn't pause when she heard Ava's near-strangled warnings of a few walkers by the doorway. She rammed herself into the bookshelf. It screamed against the floor as she pushed it backwards.

The door was wrenched open, and there she found two furious walkers in her way. With a growl, she closed the door on one of their heads, promptly bashing it, then booted the other to the street. She shot it in between its eyes without thought. All of her attention was instead swiveled towards Ava's guttural snarl. In the road, the woman bashed a walker with the butt of her gun, unbeknownst of the threat over her shoulder.

Oh my god.

Clementine aimed and fired, her bullet cracking through the walker's skull. "AVA!" Clementine shouted. Ava's stunned gaze whipped around. Clementine waved her over from the door. "COME ON! IN HERE!" As Ava bolted towards the door, more walkers were sent to the ground. Once through, Clementine slammed the entryway closed. "The shelf, we have to get it back over here!"

Ava nodded, and she shoved her weight into it as Clementine pushed from the side. Their breaths were heaved, though the bookcase was easier to move now. The air was sharp and heavy all the way down her throat and into her lungs, but when Clementine lifted her head, she was glad. Ava didn't look bitten; at least, she didn't wear the look of someone who was bitten.

Clementine's hands balled before she jumped into Ava for a crushing embrace. And for a moment, she felt Ava's uncertainty. Within a few moments, as expected, she felt Ava's rattling heartbeats as the woman responded in kind. After a few moments, they jumped away, eyes avoidant.

Ava, with a tired sigh, watched Clementine. "How'd you find me?" she asked through a cough.

Clementine jerked her chin towards the gunfire up the stairs. "We got in here about an hour ago. Gabe, Kate and I've been checking the perimeter when I saw you from upstairs."

"Well...thanks...Clementine," Ava said, panting. "God, it's hell out there." She folded her hands over her eyes, her handgun still in her right palm. "Fuck... Joan's dead. Why... Why the hell did you let him shoot her?!"

"I didn't think he was going to!" Clementine snapped back. "But it's done, there's nothing to fix it! She's nothing but walker food now!" Ava inhaled a hiss, her hand over her opposite forearm; a thick, angry line was still visible. Clementine winced. The frayed rope that held her hostage beside Tripp…who was also…gone.

"I... I'm sorry, Ava."

Ava swallowed, her eyes hard on the girl. They softened, however, knowing Clementine's noble gaze all too well—rare as it was. "I know. But what makes you think he isn't? He sent me to die!"

"Go and ask him that, okay?! Javi's a good person."

"And you trust him?"

"With my life." Ava remained silent. "Ava, it was a hard choice either way. Joan was willing to kill her own people, and someone who was an ally to her." Her nod was slow, though Ava was still bitter. Clementine scratched her neck. As steps echoed down the stairs, their eyes were drawn to Kate and Gabe as they slowed to a cautious halt. "Ava, come on. He's with David."

"And David's okay?" she asked.

Clementine shrugged. "He's not hurt, if that's what you're asking."

"Fine. Where is he?"

Kate stepped in: "We can find him now, if you want. Javi's talking to him." Ava nodded. She followed Clementine up the steps, who in turn followed Kate and Gabe. Clementine, periodically, glanced behind her, and she met Ava's cold eyes. They were only warm for her, and uncertain. But…glad, all the same.

Clementine pursed her lips and continued forward. Her thoughts were a pendulum again, swinging in and out of the hallway she walked. In and out, in and out, she felt her flask call for her. It was that time of the hour, and she took it.

[. . .]

Clementine, empty bottle at hand, stumbled through the trees. Her movements were sluggish as she neared the boarded shed in the clearing. Once at the door, the bottle was tossed to the side, smashing into the wall. In her drunken stupor, Clementine barely navigated her steps to the blankets laid on the floor. She tumbled to the ground.

Eagle-spread, she stared at the ceiling, left to relive the night over and over again. A.J, and his cries disappearing behind her. Ava, and her shouts to face the consequences.

David, and his empty promises.

She closed her eyes with her forearm across her face. Clementine groaned, the drink in her body burning. Nothing, however, singed like the tears dripping down her cheeks. She sat up and held her prized possession. "Fuck... God damn it!" In an instant, the flask was hurled across the room. Its corner was dented by the time it toppled to the floor. Clementine stood up and paced. "God damn it. I... David, you fucking bastard. You fucking bastard!" She choked on her angry sobs as she threw the camping bed across the room.

It crashed into the shelves, knocking the majority of its contents off. Books. Cups. Plates. Toys. Glass and china crackled as her boots stormed across the disaster, and she swiped her flask from the floor. The lid was quickly unscrewed, leaving her to drain the rest of it away.

Once she swallowed the last of the whiskey, Clementine slowly staggered to a small wooden chair. She sat down, her face in her hands. Tears bloomed and dropped onto her lap. "A.J... I'm so sorry. I never meant for you to...to..." She sniffed, and she wiped the unceasing tears away.

Bushes rustled outside.

Her heart nearly leapt out of her chest.

Clementine paused, driving her palms into her eyes to dry them. "Shit..." she hissed. Clementine dragged herself to the door. A few strides outside, Clementine glared out into the trees, focused on the batch of pushes to the left. With her jaw locked tight, she whipped out her knife.

The bushes rustled once more, and hastily, a figure stood with their hands up. "Woah there, Clem! It's just me!" Ava stepped out, shrugging a duffle-bag over her shoulder. Clementine slipped the knife away, folded her arms, and then leaned against the doorframe.

"What the hell do you want?" she snarled.

Ava winced. "I'm really glad I found you." She looked around with a small laugh. "You don't break habits, do you?"

"Starting tomorrow, I will."

Ava wasn't surprised, though it didn't lessen the sting. "I... Right. Clementine, I know this is hard. I'm so sorry for what happened with A.J. And I know you're pissed," she said softly, though her words gathered edge: "Spitting in his eyes and breaking his nose really got that message across."

Clementine hissed, "Fuck off…"

"I... Heh, I deserve that. Look, I'm not here to upset you more."

"Too little, too late."

Ava sighed. She was going to be difficult, it seemed. "Right. Uh, look, here..." She threw the duffle-bag to the ground, right at Clementine's feet. "It's not much, but you need food for all of that shit you drank tonight."

Clementine sent a quick glare, slow to get to her knees. She unzipped the bag and found several energy bars, water bottles, jerky, and— Clementine pulled out the sheet of paper. On it was an array of colors all scribbled down as several blobs.

Her tears returned as she fell backwards. Her arms rested on her knees, her spine against the door frame. "David... He wanted you to have that. A.J drew it after you— It calmed him down..." Ava explained. She sunk to her knees.

"Th-This..." Clementine felt her heart's pain stretch down her arm, settling deep around her thumb. "Thank-you."

"You're welcome. Consider it a...peace offering?" Ava swallowed, then scratched her wrist. "Just...we care about you. Even if it feels wrong, and shit gets fucked, people are still trying to do the right thing by you. Remember that?" Clementine didn't answer. "And, look, Clementine, it's dangerous out here, and I know you're hurting. You have to keep your level head, find some protection." She stood up. "Plan for after."

Clementine got to her feet, muttering, "I can make it on my own, just like I always have. I don't need anybody else. And I don't want it."

"And I don't blame you," Ava said quickly. "Just...don't overestimate what you're capable of. For me, and you know this, surviving means finding other people that I trust just as much as they trust me. The New Frontier. Kept me going during my darkest moments..." She paused as Clementine's stare hardened. "And you'll find yours. Trust me. Some one, or some thing. They're out there."

"Not... Not anymore."

Ava's stature softened from dignified to compassionate. "What...do you mean?"

"Why do you think I don't go with groups?" Clementine said with a bite. Then, gently, she added, "They're all dead. I… I told you. All of them. Lee..." She couldn't name anybody else. Not without remembering everything.

"You never mentioned him."

"He took care of me," Clementine murmured, "when everything started... Every time I look at A.J, I hear him in my head, guiding me. Or, he did, at least."

"He's still with you, you know... Here." Ava rested her hand over her chest. "And so's A.J." She added a smile, a soft one, for the chance that Clementine's tough exterior would crack. It didn't. "From the first time we met, right here, surrounded by absolute hell, you and A.J were a light in the darkness, hope for a better world! That's... That's who you are.

"Promise me that you'll never lose that light."

Clementine looked away from Ava's eyes. They always saw through her—reached deeper than any sip from a flask or bottle could. "I... I'll try. I promise, I will."

Ava smiled. "You're a tough kid. Don't change that. Please." Her grin dropped, and she said, "I...have to get back before they notice I'm gone." She stepped closer. "And, Clementine, those good people that are out there? There's...an old airfield, Prescott. Ten or so miles south of here. They'll help you, I'm sure. There's good people there. They'll help you."

She stretched out her hand. "I'll miss having you around, Clem." Clementine hesitated. Though, slowly, she took Ava's hand and shook. "You'll be okay. I promise."

That wasn't something she could promise, but Clementine relented. "Thanks, Ava," she breathed.

Ava nodded, then stepped away. "Good luck out there, kid. And, well...maybe we'll run into each other at some point."

Clementine didn't say anything, and only watched as the woman walked back through the bushes, into the dark. Her eyes returned to A.J's drawing. They burned as she whispered, "Fuck... A.J. I'm so, so sorry..."

[. . .]

But I'll get you back, I promise.

Clementine knocked a walker off the highway bridge. Every bone in her body ached. Around her, the group dealt with the dead as they passed, bathed in the maroon sky's glow. The sun was beginning to set, and Clementine could only wonder what hell that night would bring.

She moved forward, however, despite everything. With Ava alongside her. They were quiet for a long, long moment—long enough to catch clips of Javier and Gabe's conversation.

"So...what have you been up to?" Ava finally spoke. "Other than robbing people on the streets, starting fights and trying to steal cars."

Clementine chuckled dryly, rolling her eyes. "How'd you know about that?"

Ava replied, "The New Frontier has eyes everywhere. You know that. And...you might've scared some people that ran to us."

"Whatever." Clementine thought for a moment. "And you?"

"Not great, if I'm honest."

"Yeah, I figured."

Ava's grin was small. "Always the charmer, aren't you?"

Clementine's cheeks grew red, and she turned away from Ava's soft laugh. Another few walkers dealt with. Another few moments of silence. "Did you know about A.J?"

"I did..." Ava glanced at Clementine before holding her gaze forward. "I did want to go find you, to tell you? But with what Joan did to the New Frontier, it was harder for me to break away. Hell, I only ran a few scouting missions after that. Which…had to deal with some of your…" Ava fell silent again, leaving Clementine to ponder. They both knew exactly the other thought. Or Clementine had a suspicion, at least. She didn't ask about Janet, though. Ava worked her jaw, then said, "And... Well, we did visit Prescott for supplies too—"

"I know about the supplies."

Ava nodded bitterly. "Joan did always have a way of pulling the wool over our eyes... But, when we were at Prescott, I did try to find you. Catch up or somethin'. But I heard you— That you were the drunk that traded with them."

"Don't call me that," Clementine murmured.

"It's not a lie, though, is it?" Ava pursed her lips, her eyes meeting Clementine's. "You broke our promise. What happened?"

"Robbing people off the streets. Starting fights. Trying to steal cars."

Ava exhaled sadly. "I, I figured that's what happened." They pressed forward, and Clementine saw a dangerously tight path ahead. "And now? Now you know about A.J, that changes things?"

"He's the person out there waiting for me, Ava. That hasn't changed."

"Can you promise me something, then?"

"I can."

"Look, once you find him, just know that...you can trust more people. You can find a home. If not for you, for A.J," Ava said.

Clementine frowned in thought, and slowly nodded. "I-I will. Eventually, if I have to walk across the States, I will."

"Good... Good..." Ava and Clementine shared a glance. "I'm going to talk to David for a moment."

"Alright." As Ava jogged to her comrade's side, Clementine heard Gabe make his way to her. Replacing Ava from the opposite side, Gabe smiled at her awkwardly. "Hi," she said, quiet.

"Hey," he replied. Their pace slowed once Kate, David and Ava halted at a barrier. "What's up with that?"

"People trying to block off the road, I guess... Or an accident," Clementine said.

She heard Javier's voice from behind: "God that looks terrifying... David! Is there a way around that?!" Up ahead were a piled cars across the lanes, some teetering towards the edge—which had been blown apart at some point.

David nodded. "Yeah, but we'd have to go one at a time!" When Clementine, Javier and Gabe caught up, David said, "There's some space around here. I can go first."

"And I'll go second," Gabe announced. David smiled approvingly. He then looked onward to the daunting task at hand; with great care, David slid along the edge, balancing between not touching the closest rickety car and falling over the edge. He made it, safe.

"It's doable," he said, "just be careful with it."

Gabe nodded, and followed suit. The car wiggled, freezing him for a moment. However, Gabe, too, made it. Kate was next, and she swore through every second of it. "Alright..." Clementine mumbled. She padded her away around the first headlight, her back to the drop to the surface streets. Everything trembled more violently the passing seconds. But, like all before her, she made it. Clementine sighed in relief. "Okay. Javi. Ava."

Javier's gulp was noticeable across the obstacle. Ava and Javier spoke to each other, then Javier began to scoot his feet around. The car jerked forward, throwing his balance. "Javi!" Clementine snapped.

Then there was a groan. Both Clementine and Ava saw it first. The latter ducked towards Javier. "Javi! Behind you!" Clementine shouted as David charged towards the car. With Clementine by his side, they both—as a desperate comradery—tried to stabilize the car's writhing as a walker crawled out through the windshield.

Javier's balance was completely thrown, though with Ava's aid, he was shoved towards the rest of the group. However, like polar ends, the walker and Ava collided, unable to be broken apart as she fell screaming.

"AVA!" Clementine and David roared. The rest were frozen in place, throats tight.

From below, both heard the devastating crack of bone.

All was silent aside from David's heavy breaths, Javier's frantic panting, and Clementine's stunned whimpers. "I... David. It— I'm sorry, it happened so fast. I didn't realize that she'd... That she'd fall."

David sucked in his cry and said, "I-I know. I know. She— She did what a brave soldier w-would do." He paused, wiped his eyes promptly, and exhaled. "She'd kick me if she knew I was crying over her instead of carrying on with the mission." David sniffed. "She... Ava made her honorable sacrifice. And we have to move..."

Clementine couldn't tear her eyes away. A swarm of walkers had piled on top of her body already, far below her. She cried to herself, planted on the ground as David picked himself up, inhaled the last of his tears, and walked painfully away. He would save his tears for later, off the field of battle. Gabe lingered in his spot, and he watched Clementine.

Javier crouched beside her, his hand at her shoulder. "She... She was the only one who understood. She— Ava's the one who branded me so I could feed A.J."

He squeezed her shoulder, then hugged her. "I'm sorry, Clementine. I, I didn't mean for it to happen. I—"

"I know. I know." Clementine stood up, eyes still far below. "I just... I need a few minutes. I'll walk, but I need a few minutes." He nodded. Javier they strode ahead, guiding Gabe with him to allow Clementine the space.

For a long moment, she watched the street below. "I'll keep my promise, Ava," she whispered. "I'll...I'll try to find people. I'll try to find a home." Clementine tore herself away from the edge and moved forward. Her gaze didn't raise, not unless there was a commotion or a growl of a walker. The obstacles to come on the highway pass, she'd take them, without a word.

I promise, Ava. For A.J, and...for you.

[. . .]

Clementine clenched her jaw and breathed deeply, swallowing her fiery drink. When she finally picked up her head, she noticed that everybody had halted. Once again, they'd reached the garage. From the water-tower's catwalk, Clementine saw the construction vehicles with the random car or truck.

Everybody beside her peered down, and their eyes dotted around, counting the walkers below. "Shit," Kate breathed. "They're everywhere. And we need those vehicles."

"I know," Javier muttered. "God, I miss when we were tracking the herd. From a safe distance."

David gave a dry chuckle. "It's not like we can go and ask them to move out of the way."

Beside Clementine, Gabe frowned before a grin spread across his lips. "Why don't we use noise? We could use that generator down there!" he said, pointing across the small field.

"That's a great idea!" David beamed. "Good thinking. When did you get so smart?"

"Should've seen him during these past few years, David," Javier said. "He's good with this stuff, right?"

"Uh... Y-Yeah. Thanks, Javi," Gabe mumbled.

Javier nodded, then pointed out the obvious: "That could work, if we could get to the generator. How the hell could we get past them?"

Finally, Clementine broke her silence and said, somewhat cheekily, "Go down, cut open a walker, rub its guts all over, and you can just walk past them." She felt each and every one of their stares. Her attention spun to the family, who all looked equally disgusted. "What? It works."

"And how do you know that?" Javier asked curiously—scratch that: hopefully.

She looked at him. "I've been doing this since the beginning. It works. Just...don't scream, or anything."

"Holy shit," Javier hissed. "Is that why you reek? You've been spreading all of their guts over your pretty little face?"

"Yup." Clementine turned to him, smile wide. "So...Javi? I can count on you to do things for me, right?"

He narrowed his eyes. "...on occasion."

"Can this be one of them?"

"Why? You've done this before, you must be good at it!" Javier pointed down below. "Go on! Put your perfume on, Clem! You're gonna need it for later."

Clementine rolled her eyes. "Whatever." Her eyes lowered to the walkers. Ava's screams. They still terrorized her, rabid amongst the white noise. Clementine barely shook her head, throat clogged before she looked back to Javier. "I…" His eyes softened. "Can you do it?"

Javier's sigh was gentle, but elongated in an effort to negotiate the slightest grin out of her. It didn't tamper with his sincerity, however: "Yeah... Okay, I'll do it." As he climbed down the ladder, all three on the catwalk thanked him in their respective ways: David through a brief grunt, Gabe through a subtle murmur, Kate through generous worry, Clementine through a supportive, quiet grin.

Once he was halfway down, Clementine swallowed before she tried her own attempt in goading a smile from him: "Oh, and when you do it, the walker's smell way worse than you can imagine."

"Was that supposed to be helpful?" She didn't get a smile, though Javier was certainly, sarcastically, amused.

"Uh... Well, yes, originally, but I didn't want to lie."

Javier waved her away lazily, and he stalked behind a few crates. The catwalk was full of anticipation (and Clementine unscrewing her flask, eager to decimate her grieving to instead dive head-first in the rush of entertainment). He slit a walker's throat, then pulled it behind with him. Clementine grinned behind her flask as he cut the walker open, from jugular to stomach.

She chuckled to herself, slipping the flask back once Javier scrunched his face at the smell wi racking coughs. He glared up the water tower, flipping her off. She waved back.

Kate leaned closer to Clementine and asked, "Are you...enjoying yourself?"

Clementine shrugged. "It's not like there's T.V anymore."

"Oh my god…"

However, once Javier had rubbed the rotting innards all over him, Clementine braced herself. Her show was done, and her anxiety spiked with Javier's. He walked carefully forward, and he growled at the nearest walkers. While his teeth baring and low grumbles were comical, Clementine couldn't help but watch with a nervous sweat, her hand folded over her pistol. "Come on, Javi... You're so close..."

A minute of mockery passed. The generator bellowed to life. The four on the catwalk silently cheered as they snaked their way down the ladder, relieved. Javier waited by the wide, metal door.

Clementine grinned as the party took cover in the garage. "Good going, and you smell like shit," she said, patting his shoulder.

And before Javier could thank her, David muttered, "Barely."

Javier rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Well I did turn it on…" He waved the air, sighing. "Look, we need to seal the breach. There's going to be something here. All we have to do is get the right vehicle," Javier said.

Kate, who eyed a bulldozer with a large buskin, agreed and pointed: "That could work."

David, on the other hand, kept his eyes on a blue, heavy-duty truck, with light beams along the roof, uncracked windows, and strong tires. Javier shook his head. "Uh, that's not going to do the job, man—"

"Yes. It is." David turned around.

"What do you doing?"

"The right thing." He looked around the room, to his son, his brother, and his wife. "We're leaving. We're—" he looked at his failed comrade— "all leaving."

Clementine sneered, having David's gaze only just leave her. Javier stumbled over his next few words, and he stepped closer to his brother. "A-And go where?! There's nothing but the herd out there, and you know that!"

David growled, "And I'm saving my family. And you too, Clem. You helped and...and you're coming along." She couldn't speak. Her gut writhed at the thought of leaving. After all this. After— After everything. "Let's go, we can't wait for long—"

Kate's voice pierced through Clementine's thoughts: "This is bullshit, David!"

Javier, too pulled from his stunned thoughts, snapped, "Absolutely not! Richmond will die without us! We can't—!"

"They don't matter right now, Javi! Don't you get that?!"

From the corner of Clementine's eye, she saw Kate run a tight grip through her air, brows narrowed. "This all started the day we knocked on Richmond's door! We brought this on those people! All of us! We can't abandon them! Not after what we've done!"

"We're going home, Kate! Back to where we were last as a family! We're all together again, finally! W—"

"David. I-I know, okay? I get it. I wouldn't mind starting over myself. But..." Javier released a hard sigh, and he glanced at Clementine for support. "We can't go home," he said, watching her expression soften. Javier turned back to David. "Our home was a part of our old life. We can make Richmond the home of this new one. I'm not running from that, David. I can't."

David held his breath, then exhaled slowly. "And I'm glad you won't run. For once. But, Javi, the world's out their waiting for us. We can't stay. We're hated here."

The garage dipped into a brief silence, aside from the curious walkers thumping on the generator. Gabe, self-assured, picked up his head. "I'll, I'll go with you, Dad."

What the actual fuck!? Clementine's head snapped towards him as he walked to his father. "Gabe?!"

"He's my dad, Clem. I have to go," Gabe said. "I'm sorry, but you wouldn't understand."

Her gaze hardened, and her throat tightened. Javier, noting Clementine's slight, and his own bouts of worry, winced. "Think this over, buddy."

Kate, with a hint of pain, asked, "Gabe? Is this what you really want?"

He nodded. "I know it's scary out there, but I have to."

With his comforting hand on Gabe's shoulder, David promised, "You don't have to be afraid, Gabe. What happened to Mariana won't happen to you. You have my word."

"He wouldn't have been afraid," Javier snapped, "if you came back. Neither of them would have." His smile was brief. "I wish you got to know her. Her smile, man, lit up the whole room," he said.

"And I won't miss another moment now. You have my word."

Kate, with a grim acceptance, said, "I understand, Gabe. I understand." Her eyes flicked to the bulldozer. "I'm going back. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't try to save the people in Richmond."

David scoffed. "You won't be able to live at all if you do that. Richmond—" he jutted his hand out of the garage— "is compromised! Doesn't matter if there were five of us trying to save it, or five-hundred. We would all die. I know a losing battle when I see one. We're moving out! Everyone get in, and that's an ord—"

He failed to notice Kate storm in his direction in three strides. David never entertained the idea that she would slap him. And with him stunned, Kate snarled, "How fucking dare you?! What will it take, David?!" Gabe froze, watching the two in fear. Clementine and Javier shared a surprised glance. "What will it take to show you that you do not get to do that?!" Her jaw tightened as she hissed between her teeth, "We-are-not-your-soldiers!" Kate backed away, wringing her hands in the air. "Go away to 'home!' Be a deserter! I am done with you!"

David blinked, dumbfounded. His chest ached as she added, "I can't believe I ever loved you..." Kate turned around. "Let's go, Javi."

"Why the fuck do you think he would go with you?!"

It was on an impulse. A touch of scorn. Kate pressed her lips on Javier's, then pulled away. Her eyes were cold as she watched David's rising anger and anguish. "Tell him."

Javier gaped for air, processing the sudden warmth on his lips that was quickly removed.

"What the fuck is this?!" David growled. "Javi!"

"I... David, we're— Neither of us meant for it to happen. It just happened. We're— We're in love and... I love her, man," he said, almost quiet. "I-I'm sorry. It wasn't—"

David's hands balled. "I should've known." He began to circle his brother, who paced in suit. A gnarly shark with a nervous dolphin. "The night Pa died. The night you weren't there!"

"David, please! I-I tried, man. I did. I didn't want it to hap—"

"No! Blood is worthless to you!" He pulled back his sleeves. Clementine saw a new ghost haunt his eyes, one of violence. Unfathomed anger. "Just like Pa's worthless to you! Just like I'm worthless to you!" His face was warped into a sneer as his fists crackled. "Well now, I'll show you what blood really means!"

"Dav—" His brother swung, clobbering Javier in the stomach. Kate screamed for David tostop whilst Javier was shunted into the wall.

"What do you have to say for yourself, brother?"

"David, stop it!"

"Please, Dad!"

Javier, his world crumbling to pieces, choked. He never wanted this. Pulled in between, the inevitable fight with Kate on one side, David on the other. Both. He wanted to save them both. In a grizzly whimper, Javier said, "I love you!"

David staggered. "No. No! You do not get to do that!" His fists plummeted into Javier's sides, sending him to the ground.

"DAVID, FUCKING STOP!"

He ignored his wife's—no, no, that woman's—livid pleas. He grabbed a tool from a toolbox—it didn't matter what the damn thing was.

"David, put the fucking wrench down!" Clementine snarled with Gabe striding towards the two brothers. Javier twisted around at Clementine's words, barely able to save his face from the damn thing. Gabriel's yell to stop the fight was cut off once David swung backwards, knocking it into his jaw. "Gabe!"

David hadn't paused. Not like back in the apartment. David was rabid. Ballistic. He continued to choke is brother with the wrench at his jugular.

Yet, Javier couldn't fight back.

Both… He kept Kate alive. And Gabe. And Mariana-until he couldn't. But David, he didn't know. He didn't know that his brother had been alive. How could he? Javier choked, his shoulders tense. Javier wasn't going to lie about Kate; she gave him something he never felt. At the same time, Javier couldn't throw his brother away. Not like this. He—

His head spun. From the wrench, and from the nightmare he managed to plunge himself into. With all the energy Javier had, he still managed, "I love you... I love you, brother!"

The other three grew more hysterical: Gabe with tears running down his cheeks, Kate struggling to find anything—absolutely anything—to put an end to it all, and Clementine with snow whipping her thoughts. "Stop it!" she screamed, an echo of all those years before. There, the Devil's choice came back to her. And it shot an arrow of pain into her shoulder.

Kate—with nothing found—reached to catch Clementine as she sagged against the wall with a jolt of agony. The grip around her shoulder was sharp, and she hissed a crackled breath. But she was pulled from the wall before comforting hands could find her.

Clementine reached for her hip.

Not again. Not. Again.

Her steps were hesitant at first—barreled with the sudden bout of nausea that forced warmth into her mouth. Then, her steps were frantic.

I asked you. Never. Again. You lied. You lied to me.

She halted once dirt crunched underneath her boots.

Not Javi. No, not Javi.

He was family, wasn't he? An uncle. Her uncle. The pistol in her hands aimed. She wouldn't turn her head. Not this time. Never again.

Snow overturned the horizon, and she was that frail little girl in the blue coat again. Clementine bared her teeth, the pistol throbbing against her hands. All she saw was snow, and the brawl of a woman and man flickered overtop the brothers. All she heard was white noise, not the screams of Kate who realized what Clementine sought to do.

She ignored everything. Gabriel, who watched her with an inkling of betrayal. The walkers, who started to turn their heads from the engine.

It was just David. And the flask. And the snow. And Javier García.

But this time, no deaths. Just a shot. Clementine swallowed to control her breath, her eyes focused.

The shot shrieked as it split through the air, and it sank deep into David's shoulder. His cry was abrupt, and he rolled off of Javier in an instant. David got to his feet in a matter of seconds, holding his shoulder and looking at her and her sudden treachery.

Neither brother knew what to make of what they saw. In her eyes, they saw not the whiskey and dragon. She was sober now. Sober with a beast's fire. An absolute inferno. The chaos she ever so desperately wanted to escape.

There stood Clementine with Kenny's monster lurking inside. Twisting. Writhing. Thrashing.

Javier croaked as all the color drained from his face. Clementine… Clementine, n-no. He saw the beast she was hiding from. And that beast, it warped her face into one of terrified madness. One that horrified him. He half-expected her to drop to her knees and point the gun to the side of her head, though it never came.

Her eyes flickered over David's shoulder. Everything hummed. There were no thoughts. No emotion. She fired once again, ignoring Kate's shout as a walker was knocked to the ground. Javier scrambled to his feet, bashing several down before he scampered back to the garage. And Clementine followed, wordless. There were so many.

And inside, Clementine looked at Javier, Kate and— "NO!"

The garage, with David and Gabe outside, was tugged down forcefully. All three ran towards the door, and Javier hysterical. He scampered at the edges to pull it back open. The truck's engine roared to life. The wheels spun to quickly charge out of their line of sight.

"He took Gabe!" Clementine hissed, swallowing the monster that ravaged within her. Silencing it for another battle.

Kate nodded bitterly. "He— He wanted to go. He did, you heard him," she said, hollow. Her eyes were still kept to Clementine. Kate had noticed how tired Clementine sounded without that buzz of alcohol.

"You're right... I know… I know, you're right."

Kate's eyes were then set on the bulldozer. "I'm getting on that. We can't stay here any longer than we have, and we need to help Richmond. I need to."

Clementine, with a sure gaze, agreed: "And so am I. You're going to need extra hands." She turned to Javier, who only just broke his gaze from where David and Gabe disappeared. "And you...Javi? Are you—"

"Yes, I'm going," he said. "I— Richmond needs all the help it can get. And, and it's our fault. I can't run away from that." Javier looked at the two, tightening his jaw and nodding. "Come on." His eyes travelled to the lockers lining the wall of the garage. "And if we're going to go into the herd, we'll need these." He pulled out heavy rifles, and an AK-47. With each person equipped with their weapon, the trio charged for the bulldozer.

Kate slipped into the driver's seat, and they took off. While it wasn't the speed demon of wheels, the machine crushed everything in its path with brute force, leaving a trail of splattered remains.

By the time they reached the main gate, they were stunned by the presence of horses and—

"What a happy sight! Mind getting the gate open for us?"

"Jesus?!" Javier asked. "I barely recognized you!"

Jesus grinned in his armor, hair tied in a bun, all of which revealed his powerfully-built shoulders. He turned his steed around with a nod. "Once I made contact with my people, I headed right back. Had to make sure you folks were safe."

"I'm getting the hang of this, Javi! I'll get you to the gate, alright?!" Kate yelled from the cockpit.

"Yeah, okay!"

Clementine, gunning several walkers down, said, "I'll cover!"

Kate, grunting as she maneuvered the levers, glanced at Javier. "Get in the buskin!"

"The—"

"THIS!" The bucket waved, barely flinging off the walkers as Clementine dealt with them. He hopped in, slipping and sliding, before they reached the gate. Javier was propped up to the control center for the gate; once clambered on top, he glanced behind.

The dead had conquered Richmond. Everywhere he looked, there wasn't a muerto-free slab of concrete—no building safe. "There's hell to pay," he snarled to himself, punching a button in the control—and it was a sign of luck that the button was exactly what they needed.

Down below, as the Kate and Jesus' group cheered and neighed, Clementine frowned.

Her skin prickled. She looked up. It was going to rain. Hell would pay its price, she was sure. But, that didn't mean hell wouldn't drag people down with it.

She loaded the assault rifle. With Javier on the other side, and Kate charging forward with the small herd of horses in the lead, Clementine said, "I'll never get tired of watching these bastards fall."

Javier nodded. "We're one and the same."

[. . .]

Rain pattered from the grey clouds looming above, just what her intuition promised. Her intuition, too, vowed something else. Something far more sinister: Richmond may have been in good hands, but the dead always claimed every scrap of the living they could manage. She just hoped it didn't spread death that night. Not… Not more than Ava.

Clementine and Javier, undeterred by the storm, navigated through the streets in determined, worried strides. She didn't speak as Javier, eyes alert and wary, darted back and forth. He shuffled from building to building. Whispering, then hissing, then barking, then over again.

"They— They have to be here! They can't have gone far, the herd, they— Oh God, please. Please..."

His head swiveled towards alleyways as Clementine kept ahead of him, ducking around corners to ensure that nobody—alive or rotting—was watching them. They splashed through a puddle as Javier jerked his head to the right. There, he saw a pile of muertos motionless underneath a crashed, blue truck. The very same—

"Clementine!" he hissed. Javier bolted down the street with Clementine at his heel.

At the foot of the truck, Clementine kept her eyes out as Javier looked inside. "David, no!" he cried He lurched himself back away with his hand over his mouth, eyes closed and jaw strained. Even though she was still numbed by the adrenaline ricocheting throughout her body, Clementine could feel the jolt of pain that etched itself in Javier's chest. But the man kept scouring, however. Desperate. Panicked… She was almost jealous that he could feel the same pain she hid away so long ago; even so, from what she did feel—the way her body ached and mourned for Javier—,she knew it was a fleeting, selfish prospect.

Clementine neared the passenger door of the truck and glanced inside, just able to catch the David lying motionless across the seats, a large crater in his head. His eyes were white, and his skin that familiar, sickly grey. She swallowed as Javier paced around, eyes peeled for Gabe in the midst of his shattered heart. Clementine lingered, and she turned back to the milky white of David's blank stare. In his eyes, she could still see those who haunted him during his waking breaths.

A walker's groan came from behind, and it jolted Clementine from her momentary line of thought. However, all it took was a rush of adrenaline, the white noise, and a quick stab to its head to deal with it. Within seconds, it was dropped to the ground, and Clementine felt nothing but the numbing pulse of rushing blood.

Javier looked around the construction barriers as Clementine caught sight of another walker. "Gabriel! Oh, please, no!" For a moment, Clementine froze, and the walker hung from her blade. She shoved it off as he heard Gabe choke over his words, weakly holding out his wrist. Blood painted his skin and clothes, and his skin was pale—the same tone that came just before the same familiar, sickly grey.

"B-But I couldn't... There were so many. That's— That's when I tried to stop him, but w-we crashed..." Gabe sobbed, eyes to his wrist, teeth marks gouging his skin. "I fucked up. I-I fucked up." He whimpered, eyes back to Javier who continuously shook his head in denial. Clementine's steps forward grew slower by the second, her head buzzed erratically. "After everything you t-taught me... I-It hurts...really bad..."

"No, no you didn't fuck up!" Javier choked. "You did everything you could, Gabe, o-okay?! Do you hear me?!"

Clementine knelt beside them. Her voice was clogged, and all at once the world around her focused: "Gabe, no!" Each word shattered. And how could it not? This shouldn't have happened. Not another one. Not another friend. Not another one stolen from her.

He watched her, and Gabe winced as he reached for his pocket with a shaken hand. "Clementine, can you do— Engh. Do me one favor?"

"Gabe, no, don't..."

"Take my cards." He pulled them out. His blood had seeped through the deck, unfazed by the rain that drizzled overhead.

"W-What...?"

"Please...take them," he said, slipping them to her. Her hands trembled as she felt the weight of an anvil settle her grip. She cried. It was a sudden, wrenching burst of emotion that pained her shoulder. How could Clementine forget the way her body could tremble? She shook her head. Not another one. Fuck, not another one…

"Teach A.J how to play Euchre, okay?"

With a knot in her throat, she nodded and pocketed the cards. "O-Okay, I will." Clementine grabbed his hands, holding them between her own. "Be strong, Gabe, for whatever comes next," she whispered painfully. Everything throbbed. Within that minute, everything had warped from absolutely nothing but the walkers on the ground and the storm overhead, to the distortion only reality could bring.

Gabe nodded. And with the last of his energy, he promised, "I will."

For a long moment, she held his hands before finally squeezing them. "Bye, Gabe."

"Bye, Clem," he answered quietly. Sniffing, Clementine got to her feet and backed away. Gabe turned to his uncle. "Javi, give me your gun. I-I don't want to become a muerto."

Javier, stunned, bared his teeth and shook his head. "Gabe... I-I don't know if I can let you do that to yourself. I— I can't just—"

Gabe's breath shuddered. "And I can't let you do that for me. Just, just give me the gun." Javier closed his eyes, his skull tight as everything it contained throbbed. "Hurry...please, Javi. Give it to me."

Javier stood, opening his bleary eyes. He loaded the pistol, and Clementine broke her gaze from the ground to him. "N-No Gabe," he mumbled, "I'll do it." Clementine felt her heart split. She blinked, and in the distance, she saw herself in a jewelry store, dragging a man through door inch-by-inch.

Clementine felt every piece of Javier's growing pain, and she swallowed, braving it once more. For him.

But, at the same time, as she watched Javier and Gabe, Clementine was suddenly an outsider to this moment—a painful reminder of everything she sought to forget. Gabe bowed his head. "Okay...okay," he said softly. He brought it up again. "You may not be my father, Javi," Gabriel said, each word increasingly forced out of him as his life flickered, "but you were a...great dad... I-I love you, Jav—"

"I love you too, buddy," Javier whimpered, his grip on the pistol trembling. Gabe set his head down, and he relaxed his body as he waited. With a gasp of breath, Javier raised the gun and pointed. It took several long seconds—the very same that Clementine knew—before his finger squeezed on the trigger. Clementine flinched, though her eyes didn't tear themselves from the sight.

His eyes were closed. Peaceful. A narrow tunnel through his beanie.

Javier stumbled away, down the street with his eyes set on the road. She knew what it was. The mindless trail of absolutely nothing but a void of disbelief. Clementine followed him through the aches and pains of her limbs, the cards still the heaviest weight on her person. At an intersection, Javier stopped, and he slowly sunk to his knees with his face in his hands.

She got to her knees as well, her hand on his shoulder. "I... I..."

"I know," Clementine whispered.

He brought his face from his hands, watching her. "That moment," Javier asked, throat clogged, "when you—when you shot Lee, it doesn't leave you, does it? It's in your sleep, isn't it? His face? His last breath?"

Everything crumbled. They embraced each other, arms tight. "Always," she cried. "He's always there. But...but he's the one that forgives me, Javi. He's the only one that forgives me."

"Okay...okay... I-I... You think Gabe will too? And Mari?"

She nodded against him. "They will. They already have."

"Okay... Okay..."

Javier clung onto Clementine, grateful of the kid that had once held him at gunpoint. He was glad that he saw the spark of youth in her eyes—the scrap of humanity that she'd unveiled and strengthened by his side. He wept into her shoulder as the downpour grew, his thoughts on the only thing he could manage to hang onto:

Clementine was a nice hugger.

[. . .]

Everything was...peaceful. And quiet.

In Richmond, those who wandered outside—in the grass and sunlight—kept to themselves or within their closely-knitted groups. The wind brushed against the leaves of the bushes and trees, and the sun was jovial along the bright sky.

Clementine sipped on her flask, finally relaxing her shoulders for a long moment. She sighed, however, knowing that the peace would only be a moment in time. The world outside the gates cried for her. Cried for her to reunite with A.J once more. With another sip before stowing the flask away, Clementine felt the buzz prickle throughout her body, giving her the energy to move forward, accompanied by a certain form of duty.

Hooves clipped the ground before she looked up at the rider. "See you, Clementine," Jesus said as he passed by.

"You watch yourself out there," she replied, knowing damn well the walkers where what needed the advice—and Jesus knew too, judging from his lazy wave. Clementine shook her head and scratched the back of her neck. She felt the long strands of hair that had overgrown, the same that'd become a nuisance to manage. In thought, Clementine strode over towards Javier by the water fountain.

Once at his side, Javier exhaled softly. "So, you're going too?"

Clementine nodded. "Yeah, it's time... I need to find him."

"I know you do," he whispered, overlooking the courtyard. Children had raced out onto the patchwork field of grass with laughter and play. "I'm...going to be leading this place."

"That's good," Clementine said, arms folded casually. "You know how to lead people. I'm sure Richmond will be better off."

Javier chuckled to himself. "Yeah... Funny thing is, I think you'd do better at it than me."

She shook her head. "No. No, I'm not...the leader type. You know I don't go with groups to begin with."

"Oh," Javier countered gently, "but I see a strong leader, even if you're the loner-wolf type."

Clementine rolled her eyes, dismissing his comment with a wry grin. "That's…never going to happen. I— I seriously doubt it. I'd probably get my leg blown off before it ever happens." He smiled cheekily as she turned away, glancing at the church. "But, I do have a favor to ask."

"And what's that?"

She pinched the bill of her cap tenderly before slipping it off. Clementine turned back to Javier, her baseball hat in her hands. "Can you cut my hair? It's...been getting a bit long."

Javier nodded. "Sure thing. Yeah...I can." As he strode off to find scissors, Clementine found a table that was set by the grass, and then left her hat on the table's surface. She pulled out the hair ties and clips, pocketing them—and she pocketed a lot more than she expected. Clementine frowned at the shadow she casted over the wood of the table. It had been so long since Clementine had seen her hair down—usually, when she found a big enough body of relatively clean water to bathe in (something that, you know, wouldn't have visible parasites to kill her), she was within the shadows.

"Hold up there... Is that a 'fro I see?"

Clementine swiveled around with an arched brow. Javier snickered as he twiddled the scissors in the air. "Yeah. That's why I need it cut."

"I didn't know you had an afro though," he continued, eyeing the blank canvas he had to work with. Javier thought back to his many celebrity inspirations with a rub of his beard. Diana Ross kept coming to mind. And Michael Jackson—before he… Javier grimaced. Diana Ross would be the muse then…

"My mom had one too."

"Really?" he asked, starting to trim her hair down. "Were your parents black?"

"Oh," Clementine murmured, concentrating. She thought back to her childhood memories, avoiding the horrid night the week prior. Javier remained knowingly silent as the echoes of two gunshots lingered in her thoughts. "Well..." Clementine swallowed. "Well, my dad was. My mom was too, but she was mixed. I think...Mexican and Irish...? Italian? I don't know. Well, definitely Korean—my grandpa, I think, was? Or half of her family was? …something like that. She had light skin like me."

Javier nodded along. "That's interesting. A lot of my family's Cuban, but I got some Native American and Dutch in me too."

"Dutch?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Somebody couldn't resist sticking it into someone exotic—"

Clementine's eyes went wide, and she swatted him with her hat. "Javier, the fuck is wrong with you?!" she snapped as he chortled gleefully.

"Hey, I'm just sayin' how it is, alright? And besides, that went on a lot more with your bloodline than mine."

"And that's supposed to mean...?"

"You're really mixed." Clementine sighed heavily, not allowing herself to bite back in response. With a smug grin, Javier continued to cut her hair artsy-like. (…that is how hairstylists cut hair, right? Artsy-like?) "But um..." he murmured after a while, "your family, birth family I mean... Well, I mean before the muertos..."

Clementine furrowed her brows. "Yeah...?"

He shrugged his shoulders, his rhythm and snips slowing to a crawl. "You were young, right? Do you remember how it was before?"

Clementine grew quiet, momentarily lost in thought. She wrung her wrists and itched for her flask. "I mean, it's not like I don't have memories of my childhood. But they're not...clear, you know? They're fuzzy, and I forget them most of the time. They'll pop up every now and then because something reminded me of school or my treehouse or home." She laughed sourly before pursing her lips into a bitter grin. "I can barely see faces. They're either rotting or just...not there. Not my teachers...not my friends... Not— Not really my parents. But I remember buildings. My old school. My home. My—" she breathed another laugh— " treehouse."

"I wonder if that makes living in this world easier," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know." Javier kept his eyes on her, working on his craftsmanship as a hairstylist. "The older you get, the more stuck-in-your ways you are. You rarely see older folks anymore. Hell, you're probably some of the youngest they get when it comes to outside Richmond... Point is," he answered, "you don't have to think about all of what you lost as much. Everybody who was alive then lost something, but you didn't have to lose thirty years of building yourself up, you know?"

"Yeah, I get what you're saying."

Javier stared at the large lock of hair he had just freed Clementine from with wide eyes. Leaving it to the ground, he figured that he'd do an undercut; it wasn't the original plan, but that's what he'd do. "And," he said, tucking his blunder under the figurative rug (he stamped the thing against the grass), "children bounce back... I just wish it wouldn't come to half the things we do now. Kate and I... We tried to protect them, you know? Make it so they didn't have to do the things they're too young to do." Clementine remained quiet, her hands clasped together.

"I just wonder though...if, if that's what got them killed. I treated them like kids like how we used to. And kids...hell, a lot of people were kids when they were in their early twenties. They didn't know half the shit you do."

"Well, they went to school more than me," Clementine murmured.

Javier's chuckle was too hollow to express the tension he felt rise off of him. "Yeah...I just wonder. With Kate and I...if we ever have some of our own, I want them to have Mariana's heart, Gabe's wit—especially for card games—and your...spirit."

"I thought you said you didn't gamble anymore."

"Well...I don't, but if it means they'll live, Clem, I do want them to have your greatest strength." Javier continued his masterpiece, only to find that his undercut was patchy. He grimaced, then proceeded to work on smoothing it out; were these scissors dull, or were his hands dull?

Mariana had asked that question once. The memory brought a grin to his face, one that Clementine felt him wear as she stared at the table. "I used to cut Mariana's hair," he explained, answering her nonverbal curiosity.

Clementine said, "That's nice."

"Yeah... She said I was terrible."

Clementine's brow rose. "...are you?"

"Uh—" Javier cut another of the patches away— "none of your business."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah."

She kept her eyes on her lap, now worried. Though, as Javier took great care with his hands, cutting her hair gently, Clementine thought it wouldn't be that bad (...right? Was that a good thing to think?). Clementine held her hands together. A nasty thought that had burrowed itself within her for years had resurfaced: "I... What if I'm not the right person to raise him?"

Javier breathed in and out calmly. "You know, every parent has thought of that at one point, Clem, even me and Kate, and we've never been biological parents. I know you're a good mom, Clem. I can tell by how you talk about him. You're not a perfect person, but you're very protective of people from what I've seen, and they weren't A.J. I can't imagine how protective you are of him."

"But...I don't know what I'm doing. I can't..." Her flask—the one and true best friend Clementine had for the past year or so—burned against her hip. She shifted as Javier paused to reevaluate some hair choices he made.

How strange was it that a leather-clad bottle had bound itself to her? Like another limb? Whenever it didn't hold her tight, she felt an empty crater within her chest.

A leech.

Clementine nearly jumped at the idea that her best friend was nothing more than a parasite. With A.J at the forefront of her thoughts, a battle raged on.

She relaxed her shoulders and sighed. Javier said, "Well, I don't think a lot of people do now. Especially since this world wasn't here five or six years ago." He clipped the last of her hair and rested his hand on his hip in thought, the other grooming his wispy-haired beard. "But you'll bring him back. There isn't any other person I can think of who could raise him."

"I...don't know." Clementine frowned, the internal war continuing. "Would... Would you teach us how to play baseball when we come back?"

Javier smiled. "Yeah, of course. And I'll make for damn sure neither of you are sluggers." Clementine chuckled quietly. "Alright," Javier said, backing a few steps away, "I'm done."

Excitement bubbled within Clementine. With a grin, she stood up and looked at Javier expectantly. "So how does it look?"

His grin froze in shock before it could be completely wiped away. The artsy-style had abandoned him. Everything was uneven. Why wasn't her hair as straight and easy as everybody else?! "Uh..." Clementine's expression froze, her eyebrow raising.

In short, Mariana was rolling in her grave.

Defeated, Javier deflated and mumbled, "I'm just going to get your hat..." Clementine's giddiness was extinguished once the baseball cap was slid on her head. Once she fixed it, Javier gave a meek thumbs-up. "Now it looks rad!" he tried to convince. "Would be even better if it weren't for the team."

"Team?"

"Yeah...it's a lame baseball team." She rolled her eyes.

They began to walk away from the table towards the church. "Oh. This was my dad's hat," she said, "and...I think he may have been a baseball fan. I don't know, he had a lot of hats like this."

"Were any of them of mine?" Javier asked, strolling backwards as he puffed out his chest, presenting his jersey to her.

With a smirk, she said, "Doubt it."

"What?!"

Clementine snorted, and answered with a few giggles: "Bet."

Javier rolled his eyes. "I don't gamble."

"...bet."

"Uncle Clem..."

"Bet, bet."

Javier couldn't resist joining in on the laughter. Both made their way onto the steps as the double doors opened. Kate grinned, and her eyes darted between the two of them. "What's so fun— Oh...my god." Kate stared at Clementine. "Did Javi cut your hair?"

"How do you know it was me?!"

Kate folded her arms and narrowed her eyes. "Javi, the last time you tried to cut Mariana's hair, you split her eyebrow in half."

Clementine gawked, her eyes wide as she stared at Javier. "What. Did. You. Do?"

Javier crossed his arms dismissively, then scowled. "Mariana liked it... And anyway, it doesn't look bad with the hat on."

"Javi!" Kate gasped with a small grin. "You are not a barber."

"She asked me to!" He added, softly, "As a parting gift."

Kate's grin dropped somewhat as she glanced at Clementine. "You're leaving now?"

Clementine nodded. "Yeah. I might as well while the sun's still out and the herd's thin. I don't know how long it'll be before they come back. Someone said that they saw a group of them down south coming up."

"Like an aftershock?" Javier asked. She only nodded. "Well, we covered the hole, so at least there isn't any way they'll be coming in for a long time."

"Come on," Kate said, jerking her chin back to the church. "If that's the case, then I found something that will help with the muertos." Clementine followed Kate, leaving Javier to gaze across the grass towards the children at play. Inside, Kate rummaged through a crate beside a few benches. "It may be a bit tight if you zipped it, but it's leather. It should keep them from biting through."

Kate pulled out a red leather jacket. Patches were frayed and the color was worn, though it was otherwise in good condition. Clementine smiled and took it. "Thank-you. This is nice."

"Consider it my parting gift." Kate crossed her arms tenderly and leaned against the wall as Clementine slipped it on. "So...? How is it?"

She stretched with few restrictions. Her eyes analyzed the length of the sleeves, which covered her wrists completely. "It is a little tight around the shoulders, but I like it. It's nice." Clementine tugged on the collar, folding it down. "It'll definitely get the job done, that's for sure."

"That's good. Hopefully it'll last," Kate said. She paused for a moment, watching Clementine solemnly. "Will you...come back?"

"Yeah, I think so..." Clementine replied. "With A.J. Maybe it won't be forever, but long enough."

Kate nodded slowly, then sighed. "It'll be strange, not having any kids around." Her eyes wandered towards the board of pictured casualties, to which Clementine followed her gaze. "I just...I don't know what to do, you know? It's not like I can start over immediately, but will I ever get the chance after today?"

"I'm not one to know," Clementine murmured. "I just...hope I see the sun rise and fall again."

The doors opened as Kate remained quiet, thoughts ablaze. Javier stood in the warm sunlight. "Nice jacket," he commented.

"Thanks."

The trio stood silent, the urge to speak unbearable. Instead, Javier pursed his lips and glanced at the afternoon sun as a gesture. Clementine nodded, leaving the church with Javier and Kate following. They made their way towards the main gate. Javier whistled up above, alerting the few guards to raise it. As the gate whined, trembling as it revealed more light, Javier exhaled slowly. "You...uh...you go and keep yourself safe out there, kid."

Clementine arched a brow. "Kid...? I think you mean uncle." Javier chuckled as she embraced him. "I will, Javi. Don't worry."

"I... I know. I've just heard some rumors about riots, and then the muertos—"

"Javi, I'll be okay."

Javier nodded as they broke away from their hug. Kate wrapped her arms around Clementine, murmuring, "Just... I know you will, but do be safe for us."

Clementine smiled gently. "I know, I know. I promise."

With the gate open, Clementine lead the way down the street. Javier and Kate lagged behind after passing a few cars. She turned around and waved, her eyes burning as Javier and Kate waved back, their arms around each other. Clementine then looked forward with eyes set in determination, accompanied by her elongated shadow trailing behind, underneath the orange sun.

She didn't look back.

Clementine felt the call for A.J deep in her bones, guiding her steps out of Richmond. And her flask, she heard its persuasive melody hum throughout her aching muscles.

For a moment, the mental battle within her ceased, allowing a sip of whisky to wash all of her troubling anxieties away. The pains that desperately wanted to haunt her. Clementine knew, from the bottom of her heart, that a fight would come to pass.

The question was, who would see the rising and falling sun the next day?

Clementine clenched her jaw as she neared the train's entrance.

That was always the question, wasn't it?

[3 Weeks Later]

Everything melded together that night. Clementine's thoughts were numb, yet her body surged with hellfire. She still tasted the whiskey on her tongue as hooves crackled against the ground.

She could smell the burning of flesh several miles away. By the time Clementine neared the ranch, she was appalled by the cloud of ash looming above, overtaking the night's sky. By how the building choked on the smoke as it poured out from many of the windows and doors. By how the oranges and reds of fire illuminated her eyes, the golden yellow in them igniting.

Her steed heaved from beneath her. Clementine charged forward, only to hear a gunshot. A jolt. The horse bucked and reared, screaming in pain. She fell onto the hard stone, and with her, the horse plummeted to the ground. She gasped through the burn of her palms. The horse whinnied as the life in his eyes drained away. She crawled towards the belly of the horse, and all Clementine heard were the distant screams of the night.

She then found the culprit who shot at her and fired into his shoulder without thought. The white noise had completely engulfed her body—it didn't faze her to find a chunk of his neck had been blown off. Clementine charged towards the man as he gagged, his hand pressed deep against the hole. Pistol raised, she snapped, "I'm looking for a boy! About three-years old, where is he?!" He shook his head, and blood gurgled from between his teeth. She scowled. Her anger was charged, and Clementine unloaded a bullet into his cranium. It was so simple. So easy. The white noise shielded her from the way his face splattered, and it covered the way his body slumped in irregular shapes. She swiveled towards the double doors, allowing the white noise and alcoholic buzz direct her every move.

Yet she was held back. It was as if a string had been tied to her spine, and just from one light pull, Clementine was forced to a halt. Her heart lurched. Her head spiked in pain. Clementine blitzed around. "A.J?!"

A child stood at the end of the stone bridge she'd crossed, behind the horse. But not A.J. The little girl wore a yellow dress with dark leggings, and striped sleeves. She couldn't have been younger than eight.

Wait. The girl in the yellow dress. Clementine blinked.

The little girl vanished. Clementine lingered, momentarily possessed by the urge to follow her. Track the fucking girl down. Ask her why she'd been following Clementine the past nights. In her dreams. In her waking moments. All of it.

She sneered and twisted towards the barn. She didn't give a damn about the girl—whoever she was. Whatever the girl wanted from her, it didn't matter. A.J was inside, and he was who mattered. The fire was messing with her head. And—

The smell. Oh, how the smell would haunt her... Their flesh. Their shrieks. The cracks and screams of the wood.

And their fearful eyes.

Oh, how their fearful eyes would stain her...

[. . .]

A guard ripped him from his ritualistic watch of the landscape with fists hammering at the apartment door: "Javier! Clementine's at the gate! She's waiting to see you!"

Clementine didn't have to wait for much longer. The gate hadn't even closed yet, and she was parked along the side of the road. Javier jogged his last bolting steps to meet her, earnest. The one thing he didn't expect was for Clementine to return with a set of wheels—especially one that he wanted to drive himself before the apocalypse.

And Clementine... She looked ill. Not sickly, or nauseous. Ill of mind. Her stare was hollow, and her skin was pale. It looked as if she had seen a ghost.

No.

Javier slowed his last few paces. He had seen that look in her eyes before. When she shot David's shoulder, promptly ending their last fight.

It was the beast again. Except now, it was tired. Worn.

Clementine sat on the trunk, her arms wrapped around herself with a little boy by her side. As Javier approached, the boy (who he knew had to be A.J) watched him nervously. "It's okay," Clementine whispered, "he's not going to hurt you." A.J watched her as she nodded, then looked to Javier. He was still nervous.

Javier smiled gently and offered his hand. "I'm Javi, little guy," he greeted kindly. A.J grabbed a finger, unsure, before pulling away. Javier furrowed his brows. "I, uh...heard about the fire at the ranch. I was worried about you and him, if you'd be able to make it."

"I got there after it broke out," Clementine murmured hoarsely. The life in her voice was gone. The fire of alcohol. All of it. Just gone. Javier watched Clementine for a moment as she swayed in her seat. Perhaps…she did look a bit nauseous, but it was that Clementine was holding it back with everything she had. "They kept him in a locker...to keep him safe from the fire." She swallowed and clenched her jaw. Most definitely holding everything back.

Javier leaned forward and kept a hand on her shoulder, if only to keep Clementine steady. "Do you know if others got out?"

Clementine shrugged. "If...they came across me...n-no." Her eyes burned, and she wiped away the tears before they fell. "There was...a man," her voice shook. "He asked me to... I don't know how he was still alive. Most of his body was already charred." Javier hugged her, to which she held him back. "And...a woman... She..."

"I'm sorry..."

She nodded against his shoulder. "I... I came back, to say goodbye." He pulled away. "I— You don't need to do your end of the deal...you know. E-Even if I didn't get this car. I just...I can't stay here. I don't—" Clementine cut herself off as A.J clung to her side.

"I... I understand," he said sadly, his face growing more solemn. "Where would you go?"

"I don't know. North? South? West? ...east? It doesn't matter, just...away. Away from this warzone."

Javier nodded. "Well...could you stay for a day? We can supply you with gas when you leave."

"I think...I'd like that." She wrapped her arm around A.J and looked at him. "For him, before we leave."

"You'd do anything for him, wouldn't you?" Clementine nodded and reached to her hip. She pulled out her square flask and forced it into Javier's hands. "What—?"

"Take it. I— I'd do anything for him, and I can't... I can't bring myself to do that anymore, live off of that thing. Just take it before I need it again." She shuddered, a tear falling. "And...thank-you. For everything."

"No, thank-you. Clementine," Javier began as he slipped the flask into his back pocket; even then, he knew he'd keep the flask, never to pour out the last of whiskey she could have drained away. "You are worth more than you believe. You are the only one I know who can raise A.J." Clementine's smile was watery. She didn't believe him. "Come on, rest now. You need it." He helped her off of the car, then jerked his chin, motioning to the guards to keep watch over the vehicle. And as the three of them walked away towards the center of Richmond, he hoped to God that she wouldn't suffer at her own hands again.

Javier knew he was kidding himself, but it felt better hoping.

He wanted to believe that her addiction—her demanding thirst—had been derailed with her flask in his possession. He wanted, with every fiber in his being, to believe that it had. The question was, however, would her hunger need rails to consume her? Had it already fueled something inside Clementine that desperately wanted to break free?

Javier watched her as she led A.J. There was something there...in her eyes. Just like Eleanor had once said. A dangerous beast in the midst of wildfire which her increasing sobriety revealed. It wasn't a dragon, no. He now understood that was the flask's doing. But this? This was something unnerving. Something worse. Clementine looked certainly ill, and drained. Javier kept himself quiet, though he saw the way her eyes dragged along the street; it was as if only a fraction of herself was present. The rest? Gone. Somewhere off to a lifetime ago. Every so often, she'd rub her shoulder from underneath her leather jacket with a firm brow.

With her, in her eyes, in the fraction that was there with Javier, Clementine carried the living dead of those she killed. And while they never rose with white eyes and rattled breaths, they still roamed within. And it did worry Javier, the things that Clementine was capable of. What she would be capable of.

What was worse? The dragon of that flask, or the nightmares that tormented her?

Hope you enjoyed!