AN: Originally I was going to make this a one-shot, since I didn't want to milk this thing for any longer than I needed to. But due to popular demand, I've decided to do one more chapter. Hope you like it!

"Clem, hon, why are you up? You should be resting," I say to her, placing my palm against her cheek. She's burning up, and the coldness of my hand causes her to jump a little bit. I really hope it's not what I think it is – an infection right now would be devastating.

Somehow she manages to roll her good eye and reply, "You know me better than that, Kenny."

It's true. I remember when I'd be on the night shift at the motor inn, and every single time I climbed up to the roof of the RV, I'd spot Clementine just sitting along the wall outside of her and Lee's room. The first time it happened, I just told her to go back to bed and count sheep or something stupid like that, hoping that maybe it would put her at ease. After the fifth time though, I just stopped trying. It wouldn't happen every night, but on those occasions where it didn't I was really surprised. I never asked her why she couldn't sleep, but frankly I think I knew what the answer was the whole time.

Losing your parents at eight years old would make any kid restless.

"Why are you standing here anyway?" she asks, breaking me out of my thoughts.

"Just got a lot on my mind," I reply, looking into the fire pit and watching as the flames dance in vivid colours. When you focus and look at something long enough, you start to notice the little details that you may have missed. Maybe I should do that more often.

"Like what?"

"Just… stuff."

Clementine falls silent, while I fall into a daze – a hazy, shrouded cloud of memories that continue to haunt me in my dreams and in my reality. It's always the same one, too. Duck's sitting against the tree, with his face as pale as snow and his breathing shallow and forced. Katjaa's sitting on the ground in a pool of her own blood.

And all the while I keep thinking: I couldn't do it then either.

Lee and Clem were so much alike that it actually scares me. I can't say they were never afraid, as that would be a lie since fear is a part of what keeps us alive nowadays, but they did a good job of always keeping a level head. As I glance back over at her, it seems that she's already started dozing off. How long was I in a trance for? I suppose it doesn't matter anyway. It's a good thing she's resting up a bit. We're going to need it tonight.

I see so much of Lee in this young child – no, she's no longer a child anymore. She's been through way too much to consider her that. And as I said before, it scares the shit outta me. Not because she can shoot a gun and survive just as Lee had taught her. No, it wasn't that.

It's the fact that once again they've both proved how much stronger they are than me.

How else would she have survived this long? Sure, Lee is dead but he's living through Clementine. How many eleven year olds would have been able to take a beating like she had and still had the strength to go on?

I carry her back to her bed (if you could even call it that) and set her down as gently as I can. Planting a kiss on her forehead, I promise her that I won't let her down ever again. Hopefully, I can actually live up to that promise.

Right now, however, there's something else I need to do.

Later…

The first bullet goes right through his kneecap and out the other side. He grunts in a heap of pain and collapses to the ground clutching the wound, and before anyone says a word the other bullet goes through his other knee. Perhaps he can handle this kind of pain, but it won't be for long. Not after I'm done with him.

"Go on, and wait outside…" I hiss, walking towards a work bench and grasping the closest thing to a weapon I could find. This crowbar will do the trick.

"Y'all are just gonna let him do this?" I hear Luke say, and I have to restrain myself from yelling at him. "There ain't one part of that son of a bitch that I don't hate but that does not make this right."

"It has to be done…" I murmur, so softly that I think the only one who can hear me is Carver. Seriously, how can they not agree with me this time?!

"We need to get going guys. Luke's right, this won't do anything – that horde's gonna be hear any moment!" Nick says.

Fuck all y'all then… There's no way this bastard's coming out alive…

After more of their whining and some conflict of interests among the "group", people slowly start to walk outside.

"Heh, yeah! Go ahead and run! Let the sheep out of the pen! You people don't know how good you had it – a wall, food, protection… and all you bastards did was toss it aside! You people don't have the guts to survive out there… not like Clementine over here."

My grip on the crowbar tightens and I turn around with rage clearly painted on my face. I see Sarita eyeing me warily, and though I can't say I blame her right now with what I was going to do, it's not something I have time to argue about right now.

"Shut your fucking mouth…" I snarl venomously, standing right in front so that he can't see anyone but me. "You're a sick bastard. You practically beat her to death, and now you just brush it off like it was nothing?!"

"She seems fine to me," he replies coldly, glancing around me to see her standing there with her arms folded over her chest and her eyes staring at the ground. "That little girl's seen more than you could possibly imagine."

"Shut your mouth, Bill!" is what I'm sure Luke says, but I don't really care. This is between me and him. I haven't felt this angry since that stupid dairy farm. When somebody fucks with my family… No, this has to be done. He needs to die. This is personal.

"And this fucker right here," Carver casts a pointed glance in my direction, "has the stomach to come and act all tough even though he let Clem take the fall. You're a fucking coward, you know that? I should've put you out of your misery right at that ski lodge. Would've been a nicer punishment."

"I'm not letting you see this," Sarita tries to escort Clementine out of the room. Before she can answer though, to my surprise as well as theirs, I put a hand on Sarita's arm.

"No," I say lowly, "she has to."

"But-"

"I only need a minute," I cut her off, and reluctantly she walks off, disappointment written on her face. Normally, I would've agreed wholeheartedly, but I'm not thinking very clearly at this point.

"That a girl, Clem," I hear the bastard say, and I resist the urge to bash his brains in right at that moment. Not because I'm not going to, but because it has to be right. It has to have meaning. "You're not afraid to look it in the eye, to see it for what it really is. Sorry about your eye, but it had to be done… you know exactly what I'm talking about."

Something inside of me snaps, and instead of just bashing his face in, I hit both of the weak points on his knees as he yells in pain. I'll admit, the man can take a lot. But I've got different plans for him. I pick him up by the collar of his jacket and drag him across the floor over to one of the emergency exits. If I remember correctly, it's the biggest drop I can find without having to take him upstairs.

"Kenny? What are you doing?" Clementine asks, but I don't answer. Instead I forcibly kick the door open and shove him against the railing – one hand on his collar and the other clutching the crowbar.

"Heh…. Is that all you got, you little bitch?" he hisses, spitting blood into my face. "Clem here should give you some lessons on how to be tough. She'd kick your ass all day long."

"Probably would. But that won't be your problem after I'm through with you."

It doesn't take very long for me to get the first swing in. His head convulses back and I can already see a dent on his forehead. Then the second swing comes, the third, fourth, fifth… I don't stop until Clementine grabs my arm pleadingly. That's when I toss him over the railing for the walkers to chow down on, toss the crowbar as far as I can throw and collapse onto my knees. My body is shaking so much that I can't even control what I'm doing.

There are some tears, I'm sure of it. And as the sob escapes my throat, I feel Clem wrap her arms around me tightly and bury her face into my back.

"Oh god, Clem. I'm so sorry…" I manage to choke out, my eyes glossy and my throat parched. She mumbles something into my jacket that's incomprehensible, but I take it as if she accepted my apology.

I sure as hell don't accept my apology.