AN: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Your feedback is always appreciated :D
Also, I won't be able to post a link because they don't seem to work on this site, but there's this petition thing going around that I saw on the Walking Dead Game forums for bringing back Lilly for season 3. It might not happen, but it seems to be getting a little bit of attention at least. If you're interested, PM me and hopefully I'll be able to direct you to it.
"He's been standing there for over an hour now," Carley mentions, causing Katjaa to look over in curiosity. The giant, as some of the group have taken to calling him, has been frowning on the second level of the motor-inn ever since Lilly had left, but he hasn't said one word the entire time. "What do you think he's doing up there?"
Shrugging her shoulders, the veterinarian watches as Duck runs like a maniac around the parking lot; chanting out nonsense as his eyes run wild and energized. Perhaps handing him two packets of Skittles and expecting him to just eat them in moderation wasn't the best idea. The boy's practically bouncing off the walls on a normal day, but to see this?
Needless to say, her little boy doesn't really know the meaning of the word ration.
"NUNA NUNA NUNA NUNA NUNA NUNA NUNA NUNA BATMAAAAAAANNNN!" he belts out, punching and kicking the thin air as Katjaa sighs to herself softly.
"Who knows what goes through that man's head, really?" Katjaa responds, referring back to Carley's original question as she watches Clementine timidly head up the stairs. "Oh dear… that might not be such a good idea…"
Glancing over to see what she's on about, Carley widens her eyes in alarm as she sees Clementine making her way upwards.
"Umm, Clem?" she calls out, jogging up behind the child as she turns around. "Where, uhh… where are you going, kiddo? Don't you want to go play with Duck?"
Looking out to the RV, Clementine watches as Duck spins in circles so many times that he crashes into the vehicle and falls to the pavement; laughing uproariously as Katjaa rushes over to the fallen child.
"Do you have any more snacks, Mom? I'm starving!" the boy chirps deliriously, causing Clementine to look at Carley and shake her head.
"I think I'm good," she giggles, holding up one of her masterpieces and waving it around like a flag. "I think that Larry's sad, so I made him a picture! I'm gonna go show it to him!"
Biting her lip, Carley looks nervously up at the man who's really paying the rest of them no mind, and if the reporter's being honest with herself, that's the way that she'd like to keep it. The man's a fucking dick 24/7, and she's had her fair share of verbal squabbles with the guy before.
The last thing that she wants to see is the kid get hurt. Maybe he won't be as vicious to the eight year old as he is to pretty much everyone else (even Lilly at times), but maybe it'd be best not to take that chance.
"Well, here's the thing… didn't you think he was big and scary before?" Carley questions, trying to use smaller words even though Clem's fully positive that she's just as mature and capable as the rest of the adults here. The reality isn't quite what she thinks. "You wouldn't want to bug him knowing that, would you?"
Sticking her finger in her mouth cutely for a moment, Clementine considers her options. Hmm… Carley might have a point there. Larry's not exactly a nice person all the time, but maybe… maybe she can fix that! Maybe all he needs is someone to talk to!
Putting on a big smile, Clementine continues to climb the stairs.
"I want to make him feel good!" she chirps; a spring in her step as she climbs up despite Carley's encouragements not to.
Seeing that nothing's gonna change the kid's mind, Carley rubs her eyes in exhaustion as she walks back over to Katjaa in defeat.
Assuming he doesn't bash in your head first, Clem, Carley thinks to herself, her nerves shot as she watches the young girl climb to the second deck.
….
When you get right down to it, there are only three things that Larry Caul really cares about – his daughter, his own health, and whether or not the dumbasses he and Lilly travel with are capable of pulling their own weight. Pretty simple, right? There's no bullshitting in Larry's vocabulary – if he doesn't like you, he'll let you know right to your face.
Honestly, he couldn't give a donkey's ass what you think about him. Do you want to hate his guts and curse his name? Fine, go right the fuck ahead! As far as he's concerned, Larry will let you do and say what you like.
Just be prepared for a good old-fashioned fist to the face when you least expect it.
He's fully aware that he can be a hard-ass, and that's just the way he likes it. Going up through the military ranks as a young adult taught him a whole lot about respect and when to dish it out, and so far nobody in this sorry excuse of a group has earned that from him. Larry's almost 100% certain that if it were just he and Lilly out by themselves, then they wouldn't be stumbling around this place with little to no food.
But (and don't let him know that you know this), the big guy's getting slightly worried, despite his indifferent attitude. Kenny and Lee are reckless morons, and Larry knows that with enough time, the two buffoons are gonna get somebody killed.
Lilly just happened to have gone with them today.
Fucking fantastic.
"…umm… hi…"
Turning his head about an inch to the right, Larry sees the little pipsqueak meekly tugging on his shirt, trying to get his attention. As much as he absolutely loathes the person she's usually with, Larry can't really say that he hates little Clementine.
Really, he just doesn't like what Lee's been doing with her; dragging the kid around and babying her to the world.
"Hmph…" Larry grunts, not in the mood to play any of her childish games.
When the tugging keeps on going, and it seems that the kid's too stubborn to stop anytime soon, Larry sighs deeply before turning to her in complete annoyance.
"What the hell do you want?" he demands, staring her down as the girl practically cranks her neck trying to look up at him.
For anyone watching the two of them, it'd be like glancing over at David and fucking Goliath.
Turning the other cheek and choosing to ignore the very foul language spewing out of his mouth, Clementine shyly twirls her foot in a circle as she holds the paper behind her back.
"Umm… well…" she stutters, pulling the drawing out as she studies it in her hands. "You seemed sad when we let Ben into the camp and after Lilly left, so… I made you… a picture?"
She finishes the sentence off like a question, as if she's not even sure if she could call it that. It's a bit of a mess, and not anywhere near her finest work, but Clem was in a bit of a rush to get it finished. The sun's gonna go down soon, and she wanted to draw it out before dinnertime… whenever that was gonna be.
Scowling at the young girl, Larry crosses his arms together stubbornly. "Why would you waste your time on something like this?" he asks, wanting the kid to toughen up just for once. "You and Quacks McGee over there should be doing something productive instead of goofing off like this! Did you know that when I was your age, I was already flinging newspapers at houses just to help my family pay the bills? Kids these days, I swear…"
Tilting her head to the side in confusion, and not swayed by the fact that he basically just dissed her artwork, Clementine tries to hold her ground against the six foot, 300 pound man standing in front of her.
"But… there isn't anybody around to throw newspapers for," she points out the obvious, causing Larry to rub his face in frustration.
Point one goes to Clementine.
"Well then… I don't know!" Larry snaps, causing the girl to flinch a little bit. "Build a wooden fort or something! Or better yet, go help out fortifying the wall! You were born with hands for a reason, you know!"
"But I don't have any – "
"Then FIND some," Larry interrupts, knowing fully well that the kid's gonna come up with another excuse about not being able to perform any of these tasks.
Point two – Larry.
Pouting her lip and giving the man some big, convincing doe eyes, Clementine holds out the picture in a pleading manner.
"Please?" she tries, rubbing her arm in discomfort. "I… I don't like it when people feel bad… It makes me feel bad, too! Could you… maybe just… look at it? I made it for you and Lilly when… when we see her next time…"
That catches Larry's attention a little bit, and this revelation catches him off guard a little bit. Lilly's typically more fond of keeping an eye out for the kid than Larry is, but the fact that she even bothered… that says something. Huh… Clem was only trying to help out after all.
The guy's angry demeanor softens by the tiniest of fractions, but it's enough to get him to accept the drawing from the little girl. He'll indulge him for the time being.
"I had to be quick," she explains sheepishly, awaiting the cranky, old man's response. "You see? It's so that no matter what, you guys are together all the time!"
Scanning the picture as he scrutinizes over the details, Larry feels… well, he really doesn't know what to feel. Ten seconds ago he was giving the kid a lecture on pulling her own weight around here (which in retrospect was a really dumb idea), and now… this.
It's a crudely-drawn picture of him and Lilly holding hands; both smiling at the top of a hill while surrounded by flowers and standing under a bright, yellow sun.
What is this feeling? Could it maybe… be happiness?
…FUCK NO! HAPPINESS IS FOR THE WEAK!
But for her sake, Larry manages to stifle this conflict within himself and give the lady a curt nod of appreciation. "I, uh… umm… thanks, I suppose…"
Smirking brightly, Clementine happily sits down and lets her legs dangle over the ledge. "You're welcome," she beams, before her gaze turns slightly neutral and saddened once again. That's been happening a lot lately – having her short amount of happiness washed away in an instant. "They've been gone for a long time. I hope they're all okay…"
Cracking his neck and leaning against the railing once again, Larry sighs before nodding his head in agreement.
"Me too, kid," he affirms, glaring out into the distance. "Me too."
Third point goes to… drumroll… Clementine! Winner, winner, chicken dinner!
After another minute or so of just staring off into space in comfortable silence, the two of them look down to the couches to see Katjaa and Carley with big looks of shock and surprise. Hell, even Duck can't stop staring, and a little while ago he was on a massive sugar high.
Larry, confused as to what's going on, snaps at them angrily – as he is apt to do. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU ASSHOLES STARING AT?!"
"Nothing, nothing! It's just that…" Katjaa trails off, unfazed by the man's rage, "well, it's odd seeing you two so… calm! It's a nice change of pace!"
"Clementine tamed the lion!" Duck chips in his two cents, causing a vein to start popping on the side of Larry's neck.
"I didn't think it was possible for anyone to connect with you like that – and yet, here it is," Carley comments, giving Clementine a big thumbs up as she giggles shyly. "You go, girl! Good for you!"
Grinding his teeth together, Larry grips the railing so hard that his knuckles turn a dull shade of white. He's shaking the railing so much that Clementine practically swears that he's gonna snap the metal in half with his bare hands – she wouldn't put it past him if that happened.
Larry's about to come back with a nasty threat for their tongue and cheek remarks, but he's interrupted by a physically exhausted Ben banging his fist on the dumpster at the gate. Sweat beads down his forehead as he pants and places his hands on his knees.
"Ben? What happened? Are you alright?" Katjaa asks, sliding the dumpster to the side with Carley's help. "Where's everyone else? Is Ken alright?"
"Huff… puff… he's… ugh, fine," Ben wheezes, trying his best to catch his breath without passing out. "But Mark… we saw some bandits in the woods… They were talking about all this crazy stuff, but Mark shot the one guy! So his buddy shot Mark in the chest, and we rushed him over to this farmhouse…"
Larry and Clem arrive as he explains his story as the group glance towards each other worriedly.
"Mommy? What's going on?" Duck asks innocently, yanking on Kat's sweater incessantly. "Is Mark hurt? Is he gonna be okay?"
"…I'm sure he'll be alright, honey. Don't worry about it," Katjaa soothes, trying to reassure her boy even though she's not entirely sure of that herself. Turning towards Carley, she nods before glancing towards Ben once again.
"Do you know where this place is?" Carley asks, determined to be there for her friend. "Can you show us the way?"
Biting his lip, Ben nods timidly as he shrugs his shoulder. "I, uhh… I think so… I'm not always that good with directions, but – "
"Great, they sent the idiot back to show us the way," Larry sarcastically remarks, causing Carley to roll her eyes in annoyance. "Should we just follow the yellow brick road? Or maybe you left a trail of bread crumbs for us to find our way there?"
"Ignore him," Carley encourages, readying her pistol as she prepares to lead the charge. She's pretty much their only source of protection out here with her having the only pistol out of the six of them. "Come on, everyone. We'll seal the place up behind us, but we've gotta get moving! Ben, get your ass off the fence – we need you up front."
"Can't I have just a five minute break? I've been running for miles!"
"NO!" comes the reply from everyone, as Carley grabs him by the ear like a scolding mother.
As Larry pushes the dumpsters back into place with an ear-shattering screech, Clementine looks back at the motor-inn with hopeful spirits. She wonders if they'll ever come back here, or if this new place that they're going to will have lots of fun things to do? Since it's a farm, will there be horses and cows and all other sorts of animals like she's imagined in her head? The girl's never actually been to a farm before, having lived in the suburbs of Atlanta with her Mom and Dad for her entire life.
Making sure that her walkie-talkie is securely fastened, Clementine sighs before glancing upon the ground. She wonders if Lee will be mad if he finds out that she's been talking to –
"Come on, Clem!" Duck encourages, poking her in the side as she squirms a little bit. "We're gonna go eat something! I'm starving!"
"But… he just ate something," Clem comments in confusion as he dashes ahead with his mother, leaving the girl in the dust as Larry briskly walks past her. Deciding that the big guy is really an old softie deep down, the little girl hatches a sneaky plan as she jogs to walk alongside him.
After about five minutes or so of walking, Clem sneakily slips her hand into his much larger one… but he almost immediately shakes it away.
"Buzz off," he snaps, glaring straight ahead as Clementine frowns in determination. This guy is gonna be her friend even if it kills him, she knows it!
So, about a minute after the first attempt, Clementine casually slips her hand into Larry's once again. The big man sighs deeply before conceding defeat, shaking his head and wondering how the hell this kid could be so persistent.
And more importantly, why the hell she'd want to even try this in the first place.
"Fine, you little munchkin," he relents, purposely not looking at the young girl. "You win this round."
Inside, Clementine is absolutely beaming. Larry, the meanest, angriest person that the kid has ever met, is becoming her friend!
Mission accomplished!
Glancing back, Duck chuckles quietly to himself before pointing and turning everyone else's attention to little Jack and the giant beanstalk back there.
As soon as Larry notices all of their smug looks, he gets incredibly pissed off and glares intently at the group members.
"KEEP YOUR EYES UP FRONT, YOU FUCKERS!"
"Swear!"
This is definitely gonna be a long trip for Larry Caul, indeed.
….
One hour earlier…
"CLEAR THE TABLE! NOW!" Lilly shouts as the door to the Victorian-style home is held open by Danny. Andy rushes inside to the kitchen as he and Danny's mother starts freaking out, demanding to know what in the blazes is going on.
"My sweet heavens! What happened to you, sweetheart?!" she questions, wondering why a pack of random strangers have rushed into their home carrying a wounded man; his blood slowly dripping onto the hardwood floor.
"It was those bastards in the woods, Mama!" Andy hollers, clearing a path to the kitchen as he dumps a whole bunch of knickknacks from the table onto the floor. Lee and Kenny rush Mark inside as they roughly place him on the wooden, makeshift operating table.
Stopping for a moment to catch their breaths, Lee and Kenny watch as the red-headed woman looks over the injured Mark. The blood has turned a very dark shade of red as it collected on his chest, and the man's having difficulty breathing as his breaths come out in short, successive bursts.
Knowing fully well that they'll have to fully examine the damage done to him, Kenny ungraciously rips Mark's shirt as everyone hisses at the sight. One shotgun blast to the chest, and now there are several entry wounds in his body.
"If that had been any closer, he probably wouldn't have even come close to making it," Kenny remarks, biting his fingernails as he looks over at the St. John family. "What should we do first? The more time we stand here dicking around, the less time he's got!"
"Uhh… right you are. Danny? Be a dear and grab the tweezers, gauze and disinfectant from the closet upstairs, would ya please?" she requests before introducing herself to the three newcomers. "The name's Brenda St. John, honeys. I'd welcome y'all and give you the grand tour, but this ain't exactly the time for pleasantries."
"Unnnnggghhhhh…." Mark grunts as his body convulses on the table, which just causes Danny to move faster.
The guy's lost a shit-load of blood already, but thankfully the group managed to keep him elevated enough so that it didn't clot anywhere.
"Now, I ain't no surgeon – just let me make that perfectly clear," Brenda points out, not really helping anyone's spirits. "But I've… well, let's just say that I've worked with patients beforehand when I needed to. We'll try our best to get him all fixed up."
Something about the way she's saying that… it kind of rubs off on Lilly, Kenny and Lee the wrong way. If she's worked with people before, then where are they all now? Why did they end up leaving?
Kenny's feeling especially nervous, as he glances around the room filled with old photographs, dim lighting and creaky floorboards. He can hear Danny rummaging around upstairs for medical supplies, and he can see Andy oddly hanging around the bottom of the stairs; occasionally looking over at them in the kitchen. Does he not want them to see what's happening? Is there something that they don't want them to see?
"Do you think he'll make it?" Lee questions in a hopeful tone of voice. Mark was (and is) still his friend, and to see him go in such a horrific display… There's just no justice in the world anymore.
"We'll do our best, darlin'," Brenda replies, motioning for him to hold down one of Mark's arms. There aren't any restraints around for them to use, so in order to keep Mark from moving around too much, it'll take a team effort to keep him on the table.
If he moves too much… the consequences could potentially be severe. Taking out things that they weren't supposed to, disrupting and damaging his internal organs… bleh. None of them want to think about that.
Danny returns with the requested materials a little while later as Brenda gets set to work. She slaps on a pair of dish washing gloves, takes a deep breath and makes sure that everyone's holding the man down.
"Now, hold still, honey. This might sting a little… or a lot…" Brenda warns, though Mark is barely with the rest of them at this point as he groggily looks around the ceiling.
With as much care as she can muster, Brenda places one hand on the man's chest as she takes the tweezers, reaches downwards… and snatches a tiny piece of shrapnel from the man's chest. It's all bloody, sticky and gross, and Lilly practically feels like she's going to vomit by just looking at it.
Mark, however, doubles over in sheer agony.
"AAAAAAGAGGGAHHJGDGD!" he roars out incoherently, crying out in absolute torture as his friends struggle to keep him on the operating table. It takes him a solid five minutes before the pain finally nullifies and he settles back down again.
Brenda looks over at the three of them and shakes her head.
"There's a whole bunch more where that came from – the damages are pretty deep, I reckon," she explains sadly before looking nervously over at Andy. "Andrew, we might need to – "
"No," he shakes his head firmly, clearly not on board with whatever she has to say.
"We don't have a choice here, Andy! And don't use that tone of voice with me, young man!" she scolds, causing the man to sigh apologetically. "This feller's gonna go through a whole whack of pain at this rate, and… he might not be able to take it without the drugs."
Clenching a fist angrily, Andy swears under his breath before looking over at Lee and telling him to come meet with him out in the hallway in private. Kenny and Lilly glance over with suspicion, but reluctantly nod for the go-ahead.
Stepping out, Lee folds his arms over his chest as he meets with the older brother face to face.
"What seems to be the problem here?" Lee questions, concerned as to why Andy seemed so reluctant earlier.
Running a hand over his tired face, Andy growls out a sigh as he leans against the wall. "Your friend there ain't gonna make it without medicine," he cuts to the chase, glancing over at Mark's legs which are still visible from the hallway. "All that sufferin's gonna catch up to the guy, and at this rate his body will probably shut down before we even get close to fixin' him up."
Seeing no other option, Lee then shrugs his shoulders in confusion.
"Well if that's the case, then what's the issue? Do you not have anything for this?"
"Well… sigh, there's some morphine up in the closet upstairs, but… he's gonna need a shit-load. Two bags at least," Andy explains as Lee widens his eyes. To Lee's own knowledge from his parents, typically morphine is only handed out to the hospitals and not in nearly that big of dosages.
"Christ…" Lee breathes, concerned as to what this could mean.
"Morphine's addictive, so you see," Andy continues as Lee starts to put the pieces together. "That'd be the last of our supply that we'd be able to use, and that much stuff might cause Mark to feel a little… loopy. You may save his skin, but are you willin' to take that risk? Maybe it'd be nicer just to… I don't even know…"
Sighing deeply, Lee closes his eyes and tries to weigh both options. What the hell should he do? This is all on him – the decision falls to him, and him alone. Try to save Mark with a heavy dose of morphine, or just put him out of his misery?
Looking back to Andy, Lee opens his mouth and says…
What should he choose? Should he save Mark, or put him down? Cast your vote in the reviews, and thanks for reading!