Growing Pains

by GlowingDoves

She and Luke were all that was left, with every day a struggle to survive and reach a place of safety in the north that was too many miles away to count. So often Clementine had seen it happen, death claiming the lives of friends or complete and utter strangers, the lives she failed to save…and now, it was her turn.

3. Chapter 3: Sticks and Stones

A/N:This was once part of a longer chapter. After revision, what was once the third and final chapter has now been divided up and has become what are now Chapters 3 and 4. This was a personal choice because I had rushed the final chapter when I first wrote it, all for the reasons that I was about to leave on a trip and just wanted to get it out, something I regretted later. Back then I had wanted to cut it in half, so that's why I have done so now.

The changes and new scenes are listed on my profile page, so feel free to check them out.

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The Walking Dead
Growing Pains

Chapter 3: Sticks and Stones

---

Clementine wasn't that big of a fan of farms. She used to like them, having all her silly childhood dreams of living on one someday where she'd get to feed the chickens, and goats and have fun tractor rides and stuff. After what happened at Hershel's farm with his son and at the St. John's Dairy however, places like that had lost their innocent charm about them without throwing an apocalypse into it.

This farm had a few secrets of its own too, though nothing as sinister as cannibals. It once belonged to a middle-aged couple, Mr. and Mrs. Harding, who had had three sons and one younger daughter. Like the dairy and Hershel's place, it was a family-run business and from what Clementine could tell, both Mr. and Mrs. Harding and their children used to be really decent people. They were the old-fashioned sort, owning not much in computers or many techno gadgets aside from the old television set, radio and some corded phones too. The Harding's twins Jerry and Jacky had adapted well to this way of life, all too glad to work in that family business together with their parents, as too had their younger sister, Jill. Jason meanwhile, the oldest yet quietest of the Hardings was the one to seek his chances at life in the city and make something of himself, hence the spare room for when he would come to visit and share his stories of that concrete jungle to his parents and siblings over supper.

Clementine had never met any of them, but she knew all about that family thanks to the photo albums, cards, diaries and letters left lying about inside the farmhouse, all of which she had taken the time to look through while recovering. Clementine had done this mostly out of boredom, but in some ways as well, she was a little curious about those who had once lived here and felt it her obligation to learn more about them, since she might not still be breathing right now if not for this farm being here miles from anywhere else.

Apart from things being in disarray from a few scavengers hunting about, there were no signs of a struggle like there had been with Clementine's babysitter inside her old house, as if the Hardings had all simply up and left. Initially Luke put it down to the owners having abandoned the farm without packing for the trip or having been away in town when the dead started walking. Neither was the truth though on investigating further, because by the looks of things all the vehicles were still in the garage, all made unusable thanks to scavengers who'd drained every tank dry and had even taken some of the tires and parts from under the hoods too. But maybe the most obvious clue was that nothing had been packed inside the house, for the wardrobes were still full of clothes and no suitcases were missing.

There was only one car parked outside the farmhouse and it too had most of its parts removed. The driver door was left wide open with snow covering as much of the interior as the exterior that it resembled more of an igloo than a car. It'd been left there a long time, much longer than a few months. And as that snow began to melt away, it was obvious that even with all that rust it'd once been a fancy car, too fancy for a farm. Not only that, Luke had mentioned when first arriving here after the attack from those walkers, both the front and back doors were unlocked; unless there was a key hidden under a potted plant or the porch somewhere, scavengers would've just bust their way in.

So it narrowed down to one unpleasant outcome, in that the farmhouse had been left unlocked and cars still stationed where they were long before their parts were taken...because the owners hadn't gone anywhere. Unfortunately, they were eventually proven right as when more of that snow melted during a break in the harsh winter weather, five shallow graves were revealed near the barn, along with the decomposed corpse of a man by them, with a gun frozen-solid in his bony hand; suicide.

Clementine couldn't tell for sure, but by the clothes the corpse had on, he looked dressed like the Jason she'd seen in the photographs.

"Do you want me to help?"

It felt stupid of her asking that. She still wasn't well enough to be doing much physical work like burying the dead; staying on her own two feet was just enough for her to manage with at the moment. Yet the thing was, Luke had been quiet for much too long and his silence always worried Clementine, especially now.

Luke's family, Nick along with his mom and Uncle Pete—they had been good friends for decades. It was how they all knew each other before the dead came knocking and how they sought refuge within Carver's camp together; the camp that slowly became corrupted and was no longer the haven they'd seen it to be. He didn't like to talk about it much or of what had happened to his parents before he got to that camp, although Clementine already knew the story. To not speak of it much and to keep moving forward was just Luke's way of coping. Anything he did mention was just of the good times from before, from the fondest of memories to the downright reckless ones from his youth.

Discovering the graves of that family and the corpse before them, it'd triggered something in Luke—bad memories he didn't want brought out. That was why Clementine asked to help him after he went silent about burying the man out of decency, because she knew all too well what that pain was like in being the sole survivor of your family and feeling like your life would never be the same again; she still felt that way, even now.

The look Luke gave her was one Clementine had seen on others a thousand times before, the 'you're just a little kid' face that sprung up whenever she offered to help and was waved off like an unwanted pest. There were other things at play this time of course; the lack of blood reducing her activity as well as the fact that she was missing part of an arm, all coming to the single conclusion that her offer was just an empty one, an offer she couldn't really fulfil.

"Nah it's fine; I'll manage. Just go on back inside, alright?"

Clementine didn't like Luke's answer, but she didn't argue with it. He needed to be alone and that was fine, so long as he didn't do anything stupid. She'd been around enough depressed and suicidal people to have made her over-cautious from such things, not that she could see Luke going that far...

"Actually," Clementine heard Luke speak out as she'd been going to leave him, and yet on her turning back around Luke added nothing else, appearing indecisive about what it was he actually wanted to say. It was his eyes though, those damn brown eyes that always gave away too much on what going on inside; it was a human flaw of his that had him a sore loser at poker and the easiest to get the truth out from.

Somehow her friend got a hold of himself, enough to focus on her. "Why don't you…those cans, think you can bring 'em out here? Gonna be needin' 'em."

Clementine knew which cans he was referring to, the ones they had stacked on the kitchen counter, five of them. Luke had been talking about taking some along for when they'd finally decided to leave the farm, something about stringing them up to make some lurker detection system he'd been thinking up in the worst case scenario they had to sleep rough in the outdoors. Somehow though, Clementine got the hunch that wasn't what Luke wanted them for right now, not when they had so many fences and stone walls around this place.

"For what?"

Luke's attention was slipping again, that troublesome look drifting back. Yet he still gave a light pat of her shoulder as he passed her by, heading off to go find a shovel for the first time since having to bury Rebecca's baby.

"I'll tell ya later," he answered. "Just let me deal with this first."

---

When her parents left on vacation, Clementine had been upset with them, sort of.

They always went to Savannah every year together as a family for as long as Clementine could remember. But that year, it was Mom and Dad's tenth wedding anniversary, and with school still going on and them wanting a private trip away with just the two of them, they'd chosen to leave her at home with a babysitter for the whole week, which meant a lot of bad things…

No fun boat rides.

No tasty desserts.

Homework, homework and even more homework.

Clementine was grumpy all the week leading up to their trip. Every day she'd asked if she could come with them, even going about doing chores around the house to the extremes of standing on a foot stool to wash the dishes in the hopes Mom and Dad would see what a good girl she was being; it was really childish stuff. Nothing she was to do however made a single bit of difference, for her parents hadn't changed their minds. Only now when she was much older could Clementine see the way she'd acted didn't really have anything to do with boat rides or the desserts she would be missing out on which had her feeling so blue; Clementine just didn't want to be left behind.

It was the day before they went, after their last meal together, her Dad had given her that baseball cap from his collection as a sort of early birthday gift. It once belonged to a famous player of a baseball team, a man called Dave something who her Dad was a huge fan of growing up. It was why he held onto that collection in his study for so long, comprised of baseball cards, signed autographs, T-shirts and lots of other neat things too. That cap though, it'd been the prized possession of Dad's collection, something he cherished a lot. Clementine hadn't truly realized the importance of it then, but for her Dad to have entrusted that baseball cap to her, even just as a present, it was a huge deal. Yet even with what it was worth to him, he had still done it anyway, all to let her know in his own special way that even though Clementine wasn't going with them to Savannah and they would be apart, she still meant the world to her parents.

She used to wonder sometimes what would've happened if they'd let her go, if she might've turned into a walker too and been roaming those streets alongside with them, just like how, despite everything, Mom and Dad had still stayed together even in death.

Was a part of them in there somewhere? Did anything left of them recognize her outside the hotel that night?

Clementine never saw them again, not anywhere in the streets full of walkers. They disappeared when she was helping a half-conscious Lee over to that jewelry store, and not once did she catch a glimpse of them when leaving Savannah. Sometimes even now, when coming across the walkers and small herds out there, Clementine would scan the rotten faces of the dead, still half-expecting to see them again. If she ever did get that chance, if it ever happened, then she'd put them to rest if she could. Nobody deserved to carry on like that. Clementine just wished she could've done something for them back then.

Memories were special, but they were really delicate too. After two years, Clementine was already starting to forget; the clarity of the times spent with her parents fading away along with their voices. It was the same about everyone else too, for the friends she had grown up with in her neighborhood and at school, to the survivors she'd forged new friendships with after the old world ended. One day, they would just be vague memories that she would struggle to recall completely like those when she was little; warped and blurred out of focus from what they once used to be.

Memories, they were few things she had left. Just like her baseball cap, that was the last thing she owned of her Dad's. Clementine was being sentimental sure, but she didn't care. Little things like that, in a world like this? They were worth much more to her than gold or diamonds or any other kind of riches out there.

That's why…

"Now remember, just like before."

Clementine stared at that row of cans lined up along the fence by those stables, the ones they kept locked up because of all the dead cattle in there that had starved in their pens. It was the same story around most of that farm, the skeletons of chickens or horses that had just frozen or starved to death, whichever the two. Or maybe walkers got some of them, the walkers who used to be the family here.

There were no animal remains in that small field, just the snow and patches of grass poking through the whiteness. By that fence that would've kept cattle from wandering out, dozens of small blue plastic pellets littered the ground where hoof marks would've been instead, and with every pull of that trigger there would sound out a tiny ping, as another pellet hit its mark, and so another can would be knocked off.

There had been a BB gun in the attic, once belonging to one of the Harding sons, judging by all the boyish stuff that was in that box. The only gun they had on them was empty, and the gun on Jason's corpse was out of ammo too. Even with a real loaded gun, firing it for practice would've just drawn the dead on them and wasted bullets anyway. It didn't matter if it wasn't really an actual gun; the most important thing at that moment was Clementine just learning how to shoot again, and with one arm.

It definitely felt weird and took some getting used to, but Clementine had gotten the hang of it again easily after a few tries, soon shooting those cans off that fence with the same precision as before, as if she still had both hands. It was a real testament to how skilled a marksman Clementine was, that Lee would've been proud for sure.

Luke however had little enthusiasm from at her accomplishment, his praise a half empty one.

"Good job."

Slowly, Clementine lowered the BB gun, "But?"

"But what?" Luke repeated confused.

Clementine went to cross her arms, stopping when the action aggravated her stump and so she lowered them again; all the same, the pain did nothing to break her challenging gaze from her friend.

"There's something you're not saying. What is it?" she asked.

Luke had his thinking cap on and that was overstating things judging by how he kept looking between that BB gun and her. This meant only two things: either it was bad news, or it was bad news that she really didn't want to hear.

"It's nothin' major; it's good you can still shoot great and all, not taking that for granted," her friend was to say, rubbing the back of his neck before pointing down at that BB gun. "Just been thinkin', it ain't really all that heavy, not like the real thing."

"Oh," Clementine's confidence was tested at those words, raising that BB gun that suddenly didn't feel as comfortable as it did before. "Is that a problem?"

"Maybe, depends if…" Luke wasn't to finish. Instead with a glance over one shoulder in the direction of the farmhouse hidden out of sight behind the barn, he gently took the BB gun from her. "Lemme try something; I think I saw some stuff that can help. I'll just be a sec with this."

Back to the house and into the kitchen they were to go, where Clementine had sat at that table and observed Luke rather curiously while he got to work like some handyman on a mission.

So old-fashioned were the previous owners of that farmhouse, they had a cool looking antique pendulum scale instead of a modern one, with the old-fashioned styled weights and everything. It was these weights Luke was picking up, and with the use of some duct tape from a drawer, he started taping them to the sides of the BB gun in places where it wouldn't interfere with her sight down the notch or her grip, while every so often testing every now and again that the guns' weights levelled up more or less the same.

Five minutes and definitely not a sec later, they were out there in the cold again. With those cans soon put back in their place and the duo standing where they had been before ten long strides from the fence, Luke held out that funny looking BB gun to her, covered in duct tape and weights as if it was a kid's mischievous doing and not an adult's handiwork.

"Here, see if this makes any difference."

Clementine took it and as soon as Luke let go, that difference sure as hell was felt. The sudden weight from those scales nearly had Clementine drop the BB gun out of surprise, having been used to carrying much less during practice. Quickly she went to stabilize the weapon with her left hand, only to realize she couldn't, because it wasn't exactly there anymore.

Dang it.

"You alright?" Luke asked and quickly Clementine nodded. Although he didn't look like he believed her, his gaze hindering on her and the BB gun she hadn't raised any higher than her waist. "Think you can try takin' a shot?"

Clementine nodded again, squeezing that BB gun weakly. "I'll try."

It was no use. She realized it on raising her arm to take aim at those cans that she had lost it. No matter how much Clementine was to try steadying that BB gun, it didn't improve her aim. The gun just kept shaking in her hand, the additional weight simply too much of a strain on her one arm to fire an accurate enough shot.

Clementine always used both hands when shooting a gun in the past. If she didn't, then the weapon would sway all over the place and she couldn't get a perfect shot, and that was exactly what was happening now. Every one of those plastic pellets she fired missed, bouncing off the wooden fence or landing on the snowy ground. There was nothing Clementine could do, for the problem didn't lay in concentration, but in the cruel truth that she just wasn't strong enough to hold that gun steady anymore one-handed; Clementine just kept missing.

When that BB gun was finally empty, the end result for what she saw said everything. She hadn't hit a single can, not even by accident.

Clementine felt like she couldn't breathe. "I can't do it."

"It's okay, just try-"

Even the mere attempt from Luke to give some encouragement frayed down at her temper in an instant, destroying what patience Clementine had. With a pathetic swing of her right arm, she almost hit his foot with that BB gun as it was thrown to the ground in a burst of anger that was to stun even him.

"I said I can't do it, Luke! I CAN'T!" Clementine shouted with eyes stinging with tears and she took off in a run for the house, not listening or looking back at the friend she left behind as she ignored the tiredness in her limbs and the violent beating in her chest for as long as she could.

"Clem, wait!"

She hated it, so much she couldn't stand it! She'd practiced so hard all these years, only for what? For a stupid walker to bite her and ruin everything! Because of her ugly stump, Clementine was never going to be able shoot properly again, not ever good enough to hit a walker where it mattered most. She'd be a lousy shot for the rest of her life, a crippled lousy shot.

Why couldn't she have been more careful that day in the woods? Clementine should've been and this was the price she had to pay for it, losing the one survival skill that really mattered to her…

It wasn't fair.

That short run from outside those stables to the back of the farmhouse was enough to have Clementine keeling over from the dizziness and fatigue that took her right off her feet. Crouched there in the snow, with her heart threatening to give out on itself as did her conscious state of mind, Clementine tried to catch her breath. She waited for her pulse to slow and the light-headedness to go before even daring to move again, managing to crawl up the back steps of that porch and no further, where she sat resting with her face against her knees, feeling the heat of the sun on the back of her neck as it bled through those clouds growing vaster and darker with every day.

Crippled and weak, how on earth were they supposed to leave soon when she was still like this? Clementine needed weeks, maybe months of rest, not days. But they didn't have much food left; if they stayed here too long, they were at risk of not having enough for the trip. Their supplies were already scarce enough that both had to watch what they ate. Time wasn't on their side.

What the hell were they going to do?

Some minutes went by before Luke had gone to seek her out, the crunching of boots in the snow coming up from the stables alerting Clementine to his presence as she peered up from her knees. Fortunately by then she had stopped gasping for air and hadn't felt so faint anymore; Clementine was glad for that and that Luke hadn't seen her collapse, as she didn't want the attention or to have him be more concerned for her wel-being than he already was. Clementine just regretted not getting away far enough, maybe at least up to her room so Luke didn't have to see her sulk on those steps like some big baby.

Oh well, at least she wasn't crying this time.

Clementine kept her head low as her friend approached, hiding her eyes and much of her face beneath that baseball cap, too ashamed to meet his gaze. The moment Luke stopped some paces away, before anything could be said, a single word escaped from Clementine's parched lips.

"Sorry."

Luke stood there some seconds more before going to sit down next to her on that porch step, her friend sounding more apologetic than herself. "No need to be sayin' things like that, the fault's mine. Didn't mean to push you so hard. God knows it hasn't been easy, you don't have to be tell me that."

He wasn't referring to just practicing shooting with the BB gun, it was to do with everything else too. Losing part of her arm, it affected how Clementine dealt with everyday tasks now, from changing her clothes to simply carrying stuff; anything that usually required two hands to get the job done. Then there were the things she was just simply incapable of doing anymore, like tying her shoelaces up or doing up those hair ties in her hair properly; Clementine always had to ask for Luke's help now for those particular things, even for the stupidest of tasks like doing up the zip on her coat when it got stuck, as if she was some three-year-old who'd never learned to do it herself.

Being this handicapped, it was bad enough being in a world like this, but to have a disability that stopped her from shooting like she used to and from just being a normal kid, it sucked, it really did...

Slowly Clementine raised her head, where the frozen soil and grass almost seemed to sparkle in the soft rays of that sun. Staring at their footprints in the patches of snows, hers noticeably smaller than Luke's, it brought out a confession in her she hadn't really meant to say.

"It's all I have left of Lee."

"Huh?"

"Shooting a gun, he taught me how after a lot of our group died, said I had to protect myself," Clementine hugged her legs with that one arm of hers, exhaling a breath into that cold winter air. "He taught me lots of things, but that's the one that really stuck. I guess that's why it's so important..."

She didn't have to say anymore. Luke already knew what had happened in Savannah the day after and what had become of Lee. Even now looking back, Clementine couldn't believe how naïve she was then, in being so hopeful that she'd find her parents somewhere hiding in one of the buildings, that everything would work out okay once they were reunited. But maybe "naïve" wasn't the right word; maybe she'd just been in denial and hadn't realized it. Clementine never wanted to believe for a second that they might be gone, or that Lee, who had been a pillar of strength from the beginning and was everything a parent should be, could ever disappear from her life. He'd really reminded her of both of them, Mom and Dad. It was why after all these years Clementine still kept her hair short like she promised to and why she still used two hair ties instead of one like how Lee had told her to, because they were all the little things that kept him with her; it was the same for all the things Mom and Dad taught her too.

But now, now she wouldn't be able to cut or tie her hair up with her own two hands and the only photo she had of Lee was long lost in the fire back at Carver's camp. Shooting a gun, it had meant a lot to her, not for being able to pull a trigger and hit a target, but that it was the last thing Lee had ever taught her before their group was torn apart completely and she left Savannah alone…

"This Lee, he was like a father to you wasn't he?"

It was strange hearing it come from somebody else, especially when Clementine hadn't really spoken of it aloud to anyone. Yet, it was the truth if Clementine ever heard it, that she could only give a faint nod as she picked at the fabric of her jeans, working the threads loose from a small tear above her knee.

From where he sat on that step, Luke shifted uncomfortably from something on his mind that he was soon to share with her after that long pause. "Nick he uh, he used to say that sorta thing too, about Pete. He said so back when he got bit too and a bunch of other stuff…"

That news was hardly a surprise for Clementine, given how upset Nick had been at losing his uncle. But it gave her enough courage to face her friend once again. "He did?"

"Yup."

Curiosity took hold of Clementine . "What about the other stuff? What else did Nick say?"

"Oh...y'know Nick stuff, Nick things. But, he did say something you ought to be knowin' of," Luke confessed.

Clementine blinked. "What?"

"Can't remember the words exactly, but it was roughly along the lines of," Luke cleared his throat and pulling the worst Nick voice ever, he quoted in that deep husky voice: "Don't go letting that kid boss you around, Luke. She's a stubborn one, that girl is."

Clementine scowled silently at her friend, stifling what few chuckles came from him and his poor impersonation. "I'm not bossy!"

"Well uh…hey, I'm just tellin' you what he said alright? Don't mean I agree with it." Luke said with a forced cough and looking not the least bit convincing in disguising that previous smile of his.

Glaring ahead at the hollow shell of that farm trapped within that winter, Clem tucked her arm around her waist. "If this is supposed to be cheering me up, you're not doing a good job."

"Right, right I'm sorry," Luke scratched his chin, soon to speak his mind before that awkward silence could settle in again. "If it er, makes you feel any better about it, that son of a gun gave me a wedgie once."

Pulling a face, slowly Clementine turned towards her friend again, eyeing him strangely. "Nick did that? Really?"

"Mhmm."

"…When you were kids?"

An immediate 'yes' was what Clementine expected, after all the crazy times Luke told her of his and Nick's childhood and all the crazy things in it. Yet the face he was to pull there and then, with that uncomfortable and slightly amused 'I've said too much' expression, it revealed everything it had to.

"If by kids you mean stone drunk, then yeah, kids," Luke said almost fondly. "Was when our business went bust. The last night before we closed up for good, we thought 'to hell with it' and downed enough to give our livers one hell of a beatin'; gave ourselves a mighty hangover too, the worst….so anyway, on the walk back while we're singing like the couple of fools we were, there I go falling down on my drunken ass in the road and Nick, who can barely stand himself, goes to help me thinkin' he can just pull me up by the back of my belt. You can figure out the rest."

"Oh…oh!" Clementine shuffled her heels back to the touching point of those wooden steps, trying not to crack a smile as much as she already was. Wedgies, the school prank she did not miss. "It…that does sound like Nick, I guess."

"Yeah, only he'd have been genius enough to be that stupid right?" Luke said, as if he was giving his deceased friend a medal of honor for drunkenness. "You've should've seen him though, guy was laughing so hard he was weepin' tears; pissed his pants too."

"Gross," as much as that was true, it still somehow coaxed a tiny giggle from her. It wasn't to last long though, because it was painful to be talking about Nick again when he wasn't around anymore. Hearing those stories of how they used to live, it made Clementine sad at not having gotten the chance to really see more of that fun side of Nick. He was often so grouchy and down in the dumps about his mom and Pete, that there were few times that he ever was the Nick that Luke spoke to her of; the Nick from before.

They'd all changed; they'd needed to in order to survive. Even as impossible as the thought might've been, it would've been cool if they all could've somehow met each other under different circumstances, despite the reality being that if it weren't for the dead walking, Clementine would have never gotten to know any of the people she'd met these last couple years, especially Lee.

Clementine would have done anything for her parents to have come back home alive. She would have even cut off her other arm if it meant they could be here now beside her. As bleak as things were and had been, at least some good had come from this new way of life. She'd made friends, good friends. Even if they weren't all alive anymore, she was grateful to have been given that chance to know them, even little baby Nicky too. But what she wouldn't give for them all to still be breathing, what she wouldn't give…

A thread from her jeans pulled loose, Clementine rolled it around in her fingers slowly, pinching it between her fingernails.

"I miss him...I miss everyone."

Lightly Luke nodded, his expression morbid as hers. "Me too, kid."

Things went quiet between them for a while, the stillness of those empty farmlands beyond that house both peaceful, yet eerie. A world of silence, that's what it would become whenever there were no dead or living around for miles to disturb it. The sounds of modern life, they were just one of many things Clementine had taken for granted, like hearing an airplane flying thousands of feet in the sky overhead or just the sound of laughter from the other kids playing on the street…it felt so alien, thinking of it now.

But the sounds she probably missed the most, were of Mom and Dad just telling them they loved her.

Mournfully Clementine ran her fingers back and forth along her left arm near the stump, where the sleeve of that coat was neatly folded up and held in place with some safety pins to prevent the cold getting in. Her vision had been near to clouding over again, when Luke suddenly snapped his fingers and got up. "Shit, ain't I one goofball of a jackass."

"What, what's wrong?" Clementine asked completely out of the loop. She was surprised to see that her friend looked happy as he placed both hands on his hips like some comic book superhero.

"Thought of something is all, an idea."

"…"

"Don't give me that face; it's a good one this time."

"…"

"…Just come on."

Snow crunching under foot, Clementine reluctantly agreed to follow Luke after some insistence that this idea was indeed a good idea. To that little homemade target range they walked back to where those crummy cans awaited her, taunting her idly with their presence while she and Luke searched around on the ground for those blue plastic pellets since she had used up the last of what was in the box.

After collecting enough to reload that BB gun brushed clean of snow, Luke asked a question of her. "Now, how's the arm feelin'?"

Frowning, Clementine glanced down at her left arm, and with a shrug, answered with the only thing that came to mind.

"Stumped."

Luke tugged her baseball cap down over her eyes, that temporary act of blinding Clementine doing nothing to hide the amusement in his voice.

"Nice one smart aleck," Luke said, trying to keep it serious. "But I meant on the pain sides of things. It's still hurtin' you right? How much?"

Clementine straightened up her hat, staring at him suspiciously. "As much as you would expect?"

Her arm didn't hurt as much as it used to, but it still hurt, especially so if she accidentally knocked it on anything. The nights were the worst too, Clem finding it difficult to sleep or focus at times when it felt like somebody was poking at the end of that stump with knife 24/7. No surprises that she was grumpy most days from it, because the pain just never went away and those painkillers weren't doing much to give her reprieve from it. What Clementine needed was something muchstronger like morphine, although until they got on the move again that wouldn't be possible.

Luke gave a short nod, pondering over a thought or two that had him scratching his chin again. The BB gun still in his possession, Luke knelt by Clementine's left side, and pressed his hand with a light squeeze on the bend of her arm several inches above the stump, before letting go again. "What about there; feel anything? I mean it doesn't sting too much does it?"

Clementine shook her head, studying her friend, even more confused. "No, not really. Why?"

It was then Luke offered the BB gun to her, that familiar confident smile present as it was with every other plan hitched inside that brain of his. Yet strangely this time however, Clementine found herself having more faith in him than skepticism, before Luke even told her what it was.

"Cause I might've just figured out a way for you to shoot straight."

And Luke soon showed her how.

Walking around and holding her shoulders from the back, he made Clementine change her stance a little so she stood with her left side poised slightly more forward than the rest of her. Then, walking back around to her front and kneeling down, Luke raised her right arm by the hand with the BB gun held in it and positioned the limb so her right forearm rested in the bend of her stumpy left arm that Luke had been careful in raising up as well.

"There, give it a try now."

Clementine realized then what he'd done, without Luke even having to explain or for her to ask. She just felt it in the way the BB gun didn't sway in her hand anymore and how her right arm was able to take the weight of it now that it was stabilized with what remained of her left.

Concentrating, Clementine targeted the can in the very center row, lining it up with her sight. Then, taking in a deep breath and holding it, she squeezed the trigger…

There was a metallic ping as she hit the can the first try.

---

Moving on was always a difficult thing to do when finding someplace safe and secure like a home. Well, maybe not exactly like a home. The last place Clementine called "home" was still back in Georgia hundreds of miles away, and she doubted in her lifetime that she would ever be going back. Still, Clementine was able to find some peace there on that farm, even despite her bad experiences with farms and the tragedy that had befallen the family there. Maybe it wasn't peace it brought both Clem and Luke, but just being able to escape from the outside, if only for a while; it'd been nice.

Perhaps they could've done something, figured out a way to live there for a while since Luke knew so much about farms and growing stuff, yet with only the two of them, if anything bad was to happen to just one of them, then the other would be alone and that plan would fall apart. In a world like this, they needed a group, or history might end up repeating itself like when Clementine was alone with Christa. To be with others and to find a place to call "home," that was one of the many reasons they were going to Wellington, not just to be somewhere that had food and good defenses from the undead and bandits, but so they could find someplace safe to live and be with people they could trust. It was of no surprise then, that they weren't the only ones out here with the same dreams for a better life in mind, and not all of them made it as far as she and Luke had.

To benefit from somebody else's misfortune was something Clementine never took much joy in, and the misfortune of this particular person was a distressing one to find. There was blood all over the road, red handprints smeared along the side of an abandoned pickup truck with many more clawed into the snow where somebody had tried to escape and failed in their battle to survive. Either the driver they had stopped to go pee, or they had run out of gas, but what wasn't a mystery was how he or she met their gruesome end. And that was by walkers. The person's body lay some feet from the truck, so chewed up that there was nothing left recognizable as human other than the torn -up clothes hanging on their body like rags. This man or woman wouldn't be reanimating; there wasn't even much of a head left on the body for that to happen.

The corpse wasn't that old, if the smell of fresh blood didn't make that clear enough, that the person's death must've happened recently in the last day or so. The headlights on the pickup truck were still on too, despite it being broad daylight, so it must've stopped at night. There was a trail of bloody footprints too, a whole bunch of them leading off into the fields on their right, where Clementine could see a few undead shuffling about without a purpose in the distance like tiny ants; they were too far away to be of any concern.

No walkers were on the other side of the road either, with no trees or ditches concealing anything from sight, so nothing would be jumping out to scare them in this open an area, not without them seeing it a long way off first. The only walker within range of them was the one still feasting on the corpse; the walker was a woman in a torn filthy dress, her grey leathery skin rotten and peeling. Her hands were up to her face; she was hunched over like she might be crying, but of course that wasn't true, if those sickly gnawing sounds were anything to go by.

With a silent gesture for Clementine to remain back, Luke went sneaking up on the undead, taking it out with a quick machete strike to the back of the head before it could even react or stop eating the corpse. The female walker went down like a rock, a few twitches from the limbs and that was that, dead for good.

No, not good. Death was never good.

Sheathing the weapon after wrenching the blade free from that walker's skull, Luke made a sound of disgust in the back of his throat in eventually kneeling beside that corpse the female walker had been feasting on; so disfigured and mangled the victim was that it made even the Luke himself look unsettled by it.

"Poor bastard…"

Finding people like this who had suffered in their final moments, it never got any easier, and this person, they had suffered lots. Their bones were near stripped of everything that once made them human because of those mindless walkers, leaving that corpse resembling something like the leftover ribs her Dad once ordered at a restaurant years ago; "disgusting" just wasn't the word.

It was hard to think of walkers as human beings anymore, but that female walker had been somebody too, a daughter or a mother even maybe. Clementine tried not to think about it too much, because if the undead could do something as horrible as this to the living, then the person they were once before was long gone. Her parents, they probably would have done the same to her back in Savannah if it weren't for the walker guts smothered on her clothes back then.

A peaceful death, it seemed impossible. Didn't anybody just die of old age anymore?

"Looks like he didn't go down easy," Clementine said with pity for that guy, yet choosing not to get too close, not thinking she could stomach a step closer. She hadn't been feeling too good as it was, her pulse still drumming in her ears from that fast walk taken in those few dozen feet to reach here, that Clementine was really desperate just to sit down and take a minute's breather, and stinky half-eaten corpses really weren't helping her.

"Sure seems that way," Luke cringed, picking up a bloodied gun lying some inches next to the body and checked the clip. Empty as expected. Setting the weapon down, Luke scooched closer to the corpse, beginning to inspect the pockets of that tattered jacket stuck to that disfigured body like a gooey second skin that was unwilling to be peeled away...

He paused when he noticed Clementine still standing there and probably looking as bad as she was feeling. Perhaps sensing her dire need for a break, Luke spoke up indirectly on it.

"Clem, why don't you go on and take a look inside the truck while I search this guy? Didn't see no lurkers in there so it should be all right. Just y'know, be careful and don't wander off too far."

"Okay, sure," with a small nod she did as she was told, grateful just to get away from the gory corpse and that smell.

Clementine followed routine as always, checking under the vehicle and the back of that truck to be sure no dead lay hidden anywhere from sight. Brushing some of the melting snow away from the window on the driver's side, she balanced on her toes and peeked in, but it was like Luke had said, there was nothing dead-like inside.

Pulling the door open, a bleeping sound started up, like a warning sound. It wasn't loud, but it might draw walkers if it kept up the way it did. "W-What did I do?"

"It's the lights," Luke said as he glanced on over from where he was still inspecting the corpse, her friend appearing calm, unlike her. "Look for a uh, a turn dial, it should be right by the steerin' wheel; it's got a kinda bulb symbol on it."

Clementine climbed up onto the seat, checking around the steering wheel and soon found something to match that description. On turning the dial the correct way, the bleeping sound stopped.

Finally.

Checking the walkers hadn't been lured over by the alarm thing, Clementine slid her backpack off and set it down by the pedals by her feet, happy to be resting them at long last, almost having to resist the urge to close her eyes and take a nap right there and then in that comfy seat.

They had only set out that morning, and already she was done for the day; heaven knows what she would be like in another few days. Clementine still hadn't fully recovered, given blood loss wasn't something a person got over easy. Those couple of miles had already taken their toll, that just to be sitting there alone after all that activity still had Clementine feeling like she was on some slow-moving merry-go-round and would black out if it went much faster.

Clementine was struggling; she didn't want to admit it, but she really, really was struggling and doubted her own capabilities for it. Rest could wait a little longer though, along with all her troubled thoughts too. First things first...

Sitting upright, Clementine's eyes tracked the dashboard down to where the keys were in the ignition, the one she'd seen on the keychain with a bottle opener on it. She gave it a few turns, the dashboard switching off and relighting up with all different sorts of lights, but the truck wouldn't fire up, barely a splutter of noise coming from the engine.

"It's no good, it won't start."

She heard Luke let out a disgruntled sigh. "Figured as much...there uh, anythin' in there we can use?"

Looking out from the truck again, assured the weak sound of that engine hadn't attracted the attention of those distant walkers, Clementine moved on.

Except for some junk, there wasn't much on the side door compartments; the glove box was open, though again there was little to see, just some cigarettes, a lady's underwear magazine, and some white powdery stuff in a plastic bag…flour maybe? Clementine couldn't tell and really didn't want to taste it to check in case it was actually poison; just like those thin square-shaped packets; somehow Clementine didn't think those were candy, they didn't look right...

Staring shrewdly at that glove box a moment longer before reaching over to shut it, Clementine set her sights on that pile of dirty clothes on the passenger seat, peeling them away to reveal a dark shoulder bag hidden underneath. The bag was heavier than she expected, the strap slipping out from her hand after picking it up. It had to be a good thing though in it being heavy, because it meant something was inside, maybe guns or some other type of weapons.

"Any luck?" she heard Luke called from where he was outside going around to check the back of the pickup truck. Upon placing that heavy bag on her lap and opening it up to see its content, Clementine could gladly say it was indeed good news; they weren't weapons, but it was still good news.

She smiled. "I found some cans, food!"

A laugh sounded from her friend. "That's great. What's on the menu?"

Clementine picked out the first can from the top, turning it around to read the front label, and felt the smile on her face sink a little. "Brussel sprouts."

"Okay not bad, what else?" Luke asked, and Clementine checked another.

Her smile sunk even more. "More sprouts."

"Heh, variety in a can." She heard Luke say. The vehicle buckled unexpectedly giving Clementine a scare, until she saw her friend through the rear window, where he was checking through what little was dumped in the back of that pickup truck.

A full search of that shoulder bag contained three cans of food in total, an empty hip flask and two bottles of water that had frozen up a little from the cold. Better than what luck they'd had in the past, but it still was nowhere near as good as those chocolate bars Luke found back at the farmhouse.

Clementine really missed the chocolate.

"Um, Luke?"

"Yeah?"

She hesitated, staring at that open bag. "They're all sprouts."

"For real?"

"No," Clementine corrected herself with, upon noticing there was another can hidden beneath a stinky shirt inside the bag. The can was labelled differently from the others, yet she was soon left disappointed on discovering what it was. "There's a can of dog food too…"

The disappointment in Luke's voice was evident. "Damn. Well, better than nothin' I guess."

Putting the shoulder bag down on the passenger seat again, sleepily Clementine settled back from where she sat and sulked at the prospect of having to eat cans full of gross sprouts...and then doggy food too, ugh.

She pouted.

"I'd rather eat nothing."

"Trust me; you don't," Clementine heard Luke say and he was right. Food was food; that's the way they had to look at it. They couldn't really be picky; she'd gone through this scenario more than enough times to know that. Still it didn't change the fact Clementine was missing the good stuff, like the candy store she and her friends would go to, or the fancy cakes she and Mom would make; she really liked the chocolate ones too, especially those chocolate chip muffins...and…

Clementine grasped her clammy forehead, the temptation to sleep weighing on her eyelids that she willed herself to resist.

How much longer was it going to take until she started to feel like herself again?

"Shit," Luke quietly cursed out back, jumping down from the truck. He soon appeared by that open car door, leaning against the side of the truck where he was using some old cloth to clean the blood from that handgun he'd taken from the corpse. "There ain't nothin' worth takin' back there; the canisters are all bone dry. I did find a couple bullets on the guy, but there ain't much else," he paused, checking something near the steering wheel. "Yeah, looks like his truck burnt out; must've run down to its last mile and had some lurkers jump him thereafter. I don't reckon we'll be gettin' this old gal movin', not without more gas."

That was not the news Clementine wanted to hear. If they didn't need a car before, then they really needed one now. They still had a long way to go and with the cloudy skies above looking like they might unleash hell on them, Clementine didn't favor walking all the way in a snowstorm, not after before.

She leaned forward, mindful not to move too quickly as she unzipped the backpack by her feet to get some water. "This stinks."

"Heh, ditto to that," Luke said, while loading up that clip with the few bullets he'd found on the corpse, four in total. He halted briefly in loading the last one because of the strange look Clementine was giving him, and he elaborated. "It means 'the same.' "

"Oh," Clementine turned her head away to lift that half-drunk bottle out from her bag when she froze, noticing there was something sticking out from under the seat.

It was some folded paper. No wait, not paper. There were colored lines and writing printed on it, like those of a...

"What is it?" Luke asked, the answer given to him when Clementine pulled out that map, unfolding it carefully on her lap.

It was a map showing the whole of Ohio; a good thing for a person to have. They didn't need this map since they had their own. The man might've not had much useful stuff on him, but he still had the brains to be prepared with where he was going-

"Hey, hey look right there; you see that?" Luke pointed down at the map and Clementine noticed what her friend had first. Lines had been drawn in ink along the roads in felt-tip pen, where the stranger must've traveled. Some areas were crossed-out where he'd ended up taking different routes and going to different places. Where Luke had his finger pointed to however, was where they themselves were headed, and that was the really unnerving thing about it.

Wellington had been crossed out.

A horrible feeling of dread twisted in Clementine's gut. "He was going to Wellington too."

Handing over that gun to her in exchange for the map, Luke checked it over, not appearing all too thrilled.

"Yeah, looks like he got all the way there too; took a bunch of dead ends, but he got there," Luke lowered the map and looked over his shoulder, down the rest of the road they were yet to travel. "See Wellington's that way; unless he hit some ice and skidded the truck around, then he was goin' in the opposite direction, away from it..."

Clementine reached into her coat pocket for the small compass they used to keep track of where they were going. She held it in front of her, waiting for that needle to find its mark, yet just as when they'd checked it some ten or so minutes before it pointed to north in the same direction they were heading, the direction the pickup truck clearly had been driving away from on that long stretch of road.

This wasn't good; in fact this was the worst thing they could hear after coming all this way. Clementine hadn't staked her hopes dangerously high on Wellington being a wonderful place, but to uncover something like this was discouraging, like having the first sight of dry land swallowed up by the ocean after being lost at sea for what felt like a lifetime. It just didn't make any sense, why had this man turned around and left after going all that way? What had happened in Wellington that had him leave there? They just didn't know and wouldn't unless they went to Wellington themselves to find that out, though to do so, it might put them in even more danger if they weren't aware of what to expect.

Could it really be that everything they had heard was nothing but rumors after all? Was Wellington just a pipe dream?

A metal thud of something hitting the pickup truck had Clementine nearly jump out from her skin. Poking her head out from the open door, she saw it wasn't a walker, but Luke, leaned over the side of that truck with his head in his hands as he muttered out a curse or two under his breath. Clementine couldn't see his face; she didn't have to see it to know he wasn't taking this well.

If only they could've known all this when the others were still alive…

Staring down at that gun on her lap, reluctantly Clementine spoke. "What do we do now?"

"I dunno, I don't…I need to-" Luke never finished, he hadn't the chance to, as he was to hear something from far off the same time that Clementine did; it was a sound that had them both lifting their heads up and looking around confused.

An engine?

Turning around to kneel on that seat, Clementine peered through the rear window of that pickup truck. There she saw it some ways down the long road where the land dipped down into a small valley, a car. It was driving slow, maybe because of all the snow and ice that was still on many of the roads.

A minute at most and it would be here.

Before Clementine could say or do anything, Luke slammed the door of that truck shut with her still inside it, stepping away as he spoke out a direct order. "Get down low and stay hidden, and don't be comin' out until I say."

"Luke!?"

"Just do it, Clementine!"

The car no longer looked as small as it had just a second ago, the engine revving as the driver went to pick up some speed. They would have seen him by now, whoever it was behind the wheel, they would have spotted Luke by the truck; not her though, not from where she was, not just yet. Luke was trying to protect her, in case whoever it was wasn't friendly. But then, who was going to protect him if they weren't?

'Please, no more bad guys, not now.'

The clock was ticking away until that car would soon reach them, the growl of that engine getting louder as it drew closer, close enough she could see the chains on those tires and the faint outlines of people inside. Luke was already gone, walking away from the pickup truck to get enough distance from it so maybe the driver wouldn't think he was with anybody, like he was just some stranger all by himself. Yeah, as if anybody would buy that story for a second if they got him talking. Luke couldn't lie well enough to save his own life; as soon as the strangers were to ask if he was with anyone, the game would be up.

This plan would fail, just like it had with Christa and the men in those woods. They'd see right through him as easily as Clementine could.

'Cause I don't want to get in a fight, and you really think he'd shoot a little girl?'

Now hidden low out of sight as she heard that car approaching fast, Clementine looked down at the gun in her hand…and quickly tucked it into her coat pocket, before opening the truck door and hopping out.

Nobody else was dying for her, not today.

Legs like jello she hurried on, passing the half-devoured corpse and the female walker as she went to where Luke stood on the side of the road awaiting the car's arrival. The welcome he gave her upon realizing she'd disobeyed him wasn't a pleasant one.

"The hell you doin'!? Clem I said to stay in the truck!"

His anger did nothing to sway her decision, Clementine's feet remaining rooted where they were on the ground. "We stay together."

"Yeah, a real damn smart plan that is! Jesus Christ kid," Luke remarked, yet there was no more that could be argued on, because as of right now, they were no longer alone.

The car pulled up short of them, the driver inside killing the engine. Some seconds later, did those doors open and two people step out. One was a pale-faced woman, not young, but definitely not that old either; she was blonde-haired and blue-eyed, and really pretty too, that Clementine could've imagined lots of girls jealous of her looks back when the lady was young enough to be in school. The other person with her, the driver, was a man; he seemed be a little older than the woman and looked really tough too like he could've been a boxer, with one of those sharp masculine-type faces on him, his dark hair hidden beneath an old red baseball cap more worse for wear than Clementine's.

Both the man and the woman were dressed well for the winter, with no visible weapons on them that Clementine could see. As intimidating as that man appeared, something in his smile came off as friendly, enough for Clementine to notice he wasn't behaving the least bit hostilely nor overly suspiciously towards her or Luke as she might've expected someone of his build to; the pretty lady was the same. Still, Clementine had enough experience to not go trusting strangers straight away, no matter how nice or friendly they might appear.

It was the man who approached first, his grey eyes studying the pair watchfully from head to toe as if he too were checking them over for any weapons. He focused on Clementine and her stump the longest, much longer than she was comfortable with, so much so that she shot him a glare, not liking the attention; that soon got him to stop.

"Been a while since I've seen folks like yourselves," the man said finally, that soft-spoken voice not quite matching someone of his physique, as he'd diverted all attention onto Luke. "What brings you around these parts? Can't be for the weather, can it? Not with the young'un on your hands."

Luke remained cautious of the stranger, taking a step closer to Clementine, as if he were ready for anything. "Nowhere in particular really, just tryin' to find someplace decent to get by is all."

The man laughed, sharing a look with the blonde-haired woman who spared him a warm smile. "Ah, like we haven't heard that before. Yup, sounds about the same as every other traveler we've met on their way up to Wellington; that where you two are goin'? No secret to us if it is."

The thought of that corpse and that map with "Wellington" crossed-out on it flashed in Clementine's mind and revived her doubts on whether she and Luke would still go there now. Yet if one thing did spark a tiny ray of hope, then it was that mention from the man having met others going to Wellington too.

'What, what if they…'

Clementine spoke up before Luke could give an answer. "Have you been there?"

The man looked at her strangely, as if surprised that she'd spoken. "Well, sure have sweetheart; me and my gal went there a near month back. But they don't just let anybody in; a very selective community you could call them, or a bunch of purest fucks is more about right. Excuse the language."

"'Selective?' Whaddya mean by that?" Luke asked him warily.

"As in if you don't tick all the boxes, you don't get let in, that's what; just like what they went and did to us. Came all the way up from Houston and they threw us out on our asses; didn't care if we starved or what happened to us and all because we went killin' and stealin' from what weren't the biters, whether we had any choices in the matter or not," The man told them, as if still harboring a great grudge about it all, yet his expression was soon to soften and sympathize with them again. "Look, I apologize, I don't mean to be puttin' a wrench in your vacation plans with all this ranting. You're still welcome to try your luck there and everything. I mean who knows maybe it'll turn out good for you both; I hear they take pity on families, especially with young kids."

On cue, both Clementine and Luke were to look at each other a little confounded and not just over the news of Wellington. The two didn't look anything alike to resemble family; surely the man noticed that, right? And a community that kicked people out for killing or stealing in the past? The extremities sounded like the alter ego of Carver's camp, but who hadn't done something bad by this point? It was nearly impossible for somebody not to have stolen or killed others that weren't walkers when in an apocalypse; her old group stole from the station wagon and Lee had killed others beside walkers, and so had Luke done the same when he saved her from Carver who'd nearly broken her neck. When people were pushed and had no choice, they were capable of taking a life or stealing if it meant they could live for an extra day.

Even Clementine, she had killed, she had stolen...

"Dammit, me and my manners. The name's Joe by the way, Joe Brook; I was a truck driver back in the day. And this is Martha, my partner," the man, Joe, introduced themselves as, while the blonde-haired lady, Martha, took the opportunity to come closer with a shy wave, yet still hanging back from properly joining them. "I don't believe we got your names."

"Uh, it's Luke."

"…Clementine."

"Luke and Clementine, well nice to meet you both," Joe said, before looking past them to the dead walker and the fresh corpse near the pickup truck, "Hope that weren't no friend of yours. You two by yourselves?"

"He wasn't, and uh yeah, yeah; it's just us," Luke answered truthfully, yet not telling Joe any more than he needed to know, or how they came to be here on their own. Her friend still had his guard up about these strangers, just as much as Clementine did. It'd been so long since they'd met others that hadn't tried to kill them first, that she felt edgy being around friendly people again. Clementine understood now why Christa had been so unwilling to find another group after Omid and the baby died. That time alone cut off from others made anybody cautious, that's how she'd felt about Luke and the others the first time meeting them all.

Even so, with that cautiousness weighing in on their first impressions of these new people, there was still something bugging Clementine about what Joe had said. "Why did they turn you away?"

"Say what?"

Clementine studied the man's reaction through narrowed eyes. "You said they turned people away for killing; who did you kill?"

"Haha, listen to that, an astute one isn't she? Betcha don't let anything get by ya, do you little lady? And well, I can't say they were real people, not the best is what I'm tryin' to say," Joe went quiet as he scratched the side of his neck, looking grave. "Couple of guys from some gangs; one asshole that tried to hurt my gal; nobody special worth mentioning. We've…I guess, we've just done what we've had to in order to survive; nothin' we're all that proud of but there you go, they're things we can't undo."

There was honesty there, that Clementine picked up on. Joe could've just lied if he wanted to hide the truth, but he hadn't, she could tell. And he wasn't lying about Wellington either, at least, she thought he wasn't…

"So there's really people there then, huh? How many?" Luke asked forwardly, crossing his arms.

"Enough to fill a small town," the woman Martha spoke, the first words she'd said since meeting the pair. Clementine noticed she had a bit of an accent on her, was it French? "They've got electricity, running water, food, everything you might expect. A really good place to be raising a little girl from what we saw of it too."

Clementine caught Joe staring at her again, before those eyes quickly darted back to Luke. "Look, we're planning to head out of state and we're low on gas as it is, but if you want, we can drive you some of the way there or to some shelter? Maybe pitch in a good word for us when you get there? Gonna be havin' some bad weather comin' soon. You don't want to be gettin' yourself or the little lady caught in it."

"We have a bit of food we can spare you both too; having some company around for a while would be nice," Martha offered with a tender smile, taking a small step closer. "What do you say?"

A trip for some of the way to Wellington, now that was something Clementine could really do with, a real godsend. And free food too that wasn't sprouts or disgusting dog food? If she was still the eight-year-old girl she was when all this started, she would've looked up at Luke and begged him for them to go with the couple...yet, something just didn't feel quite right, and Clementine was sure it wasn't her just being paranoid. The couple seemed really nice, but all she could keep thinking of when she looked at their charming and over friendly faces, were of the St. Johns and how her old group had naively been persuaded into going to their dairy, to where terrible things had happened.

Luke might not have been there at that dairy, but he had gone through something similar with Carver's camp that'd slowly turned into nothing but a prison full of bad people. Clementine could see it there and then on her older friend's face, that Luke wasn't convinced by these two strangers, not in the slightest.

As such, when Luke spoke out, he made it pretty clear where he stood on the couple's offer.

"Thanks, but we'll be fine; ain't nothin' we can't deal with."

The rejection caused Joe to look over at his partner, whose smile had faded a little. "You sure about that? I mean we really don't mind goin' out of our way to-"

In the very instant the man took those steps forward, Luke immediately backed off, moving Clementine along with him as that protective arm went out in front of her. "I said we're fine!"

Luke's words cut sharp, giving warning for Joe not to come any closer; the man listened, stopping right in his tracks as his hands came up in defense of his actions. "Now whoa, no need to be jumpy; we don't mean any harm, we just want to help. Just thinkin' of your girl's best interests here."

Joe was lying, Clementine spotted it clearer now at the pressure the stranger was being put under, even Martha suddenly looked more nervous than she had a right to be. Liars, they were both liars!

Realizing this, Clementine's hand slowly inched towards her coat pocket, to where the gun remained safely hidden away…when she caught movement beyond the two strangers, in the car. One of the back door windows, it had been sneakily rolled down during the four's talking, and she could see somebody inside, another person, a man with dark skin.

He had a gun!

"Luke!"

Clementine didn't have time to even think, she just turned and pushed her friend as hard as she could with her arm to shove him out of the way. It didn't do much good, given Luke was much taller and heavier than she was, and as a result Clementine was only able to knock him off balance by a couple steps before a shot was fired.

Her friend was to slip on some snow from there, going down on his side as he hit the ground. Blood dripped onto the tarmac where Luke had fallen, the red liquid running down his jaw from the fresh wound on the side of his ear the bullet had clipped the very edge of, just missing his skull.

The armed man hadn't been shooting to disarm.

They were in trouble.

"Go! Clem RUN!" Luke had yelled upon realizing what'd happened, that he was bleeding. But Clementine knew what he asked was an impossible thing for her to do. There was nowhere to run or hide, and she wasn't well enough to go far. After what happened to Christa and the friend that fleeing cost her before...

No, not again!

Refusing to turn on her heels and run, Clementine frantically reached into her pocket, preparing to pull the gun on these strangers before another shot could be fired. The weapon though, it was caught on the insides of her small coat pocket and she couldn't get it free in time before those arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind, stopping Clementine as she was lifted unwillingly off her feet.

It was the woman, Martha.

"Get her in the car! I'll deal with this!" Joe yelled, after having violently kicked Luke in the face, knocking him back down as he'd been attempting to get up and go help her.

Luke didn't even get the chance to defend himself as he was struck again, this time with Joe's fist.

"Let me go! LET GO!" Clementine screamed while she struggled like crazy, kicking at the woman who was much stronger than she physically looked. Despite all her attempts to wrestle herself free, Martha was still succeeding little by little in carrying her towards that car. As they got closer to it, the lanky dark-skinned man who had taken a shot at Luke got out, leaving the door open as he strolled by them; in his hands he had that gun, a disturbing smile of satisfaction present on his face, yet it wasn't Clementine that he had any interest in harming.

Her blood ran ice-cold at seeing the gunman walking straight on over to where Luke was knocked of his senses on the ground, just as Joe was reaching for the machete strapped to her friend's back by his rucksack, pulling the blade out…

Clementine lost it completely, struggling with the woman even harder and with everything she had in her like some feral cat wanting out of its cage. She clawed at her coat pocket again, trying to reach inside for her gun, but Martha's tight bear hug had both Clementine's arms locked in at her sides. She couldn't get to it!

The more Clementine resisted however, the more the restraint the woman had on her began to loosen, moreso when trying to bundle Clementine into the back of that car; the girl's struggles intensifying even more to makes sure she didn't get pushed inside. But it wasn't enough! Clementine still wasn't able to break free.

"Luke! LUKE!"

Martha cursed something angrily in French, unable to force her into the vehicle, for Clementine had stuck both her legs out, one foot wedged on the side of the headrest for the front seat, with the other on the outside of the car, refusing to budge. Nobody was snatching her away again, Clementine wouldn't have it! Not ever! Not after what happened to Lee and being a prisoner to that madman; she'd rather die first than lose another friend and let that happen again!

She had to stop this!

"Davis get over here! This chienne is getting on my nerves!" Martha shouted having to fight to keep Clementine at bay, as it soon got the dark-skinned man's, Davis's, attention. Joe was swift to shoo him off, too busy toying with the barely conscious Luke he had at his mercy, striking another fist down on the back of her friend's skull. And yet, even when knocked back down, Clementine could see Luke slowly crawling onto his hands and knees again, refusing to give in.

But Joe, he just acted indifferent to it all.

"Still tryin' to get yourself up huh? Gotta hand it to ya, you got some balls that's for sure; now I see where she gets it from. But don't you go worryin' about the little lady anymore; we'll be takin' real good care of her. You understand don't you? Gotta do what we have to, to survive, sooo, we can't exactly have you runnin' around to go ruin our little setup, now can we?"

Clementine heard Luke take another beating as Davis' hands latched onto her ankles, wrenching her feet free and leaving nothing to stop Clementine from being thrown into the back of the car by the two adults. Clambering up onto one elbow, Clementine caught it then through that foggy windscreen, the sight of Joe pulling back Luke's head by his hair as he yanked her half-conscious friend up onto his knees, readying the machete with a cynical remark that made the anger bubble within Clementine's chest like hot acid.

"Sorry you have to go losin' your head over this, but better you be painted as the monster than me; no hard feelin's though, right my man?"

'Do I look like a monster to you?'

Do I look like a monster...Clementine heard the stranger ask that to Lee, when she'd been leaning her ear to the bathroom door of the motel room. The stranger had been planning to kill him and keep her as family, and it was then she'd known she had to do something, to find a way to break out and save Lee somehow before it happened. Monsters, just like the stranger, like the St. Johns, like Carver and Nate…

They were all the same, every last one of them!

Her erratic heart pounded fast, charged with so much adrenaline Clementine was physically shaking. The blonde-haired woman, Martha, was already climbing into the car, preparing to restrain Clementine once again, but by then the gun had been tugged free from her coat, the barrel being jammed into the advancing woman's shoulder, and she fired.

The recoil jolted Clementine's arm, but it was nothing compared to what it did to Martha; the impact of the bullet tore through the woman's body, knocking her back as she went tumbling out from the car, screaming and clutching her shoulder to pulse out blood from between her fingers.

"The fuck!?" shouted Davis, standing near his fallen friend as he jumped away in surprise. He quickly went to bring his own weapon up at seeing she was armed, to shoot Clementine dead before she could shoot him. Yet her arm was already raised, a stumpy limb used to stabilize the gun as she fired again, three more times. One bullet hit Davis' left elbow, the other two being fatal gut shots that had him going down and staying there as he dropped his handgun, groaning in agony.

Four bullets, that's all Clementine could remember Luke loading in; she was out of ammo!

The gun, she needed that gun!

With nothing else to lose but her life, Clementine threw herself forward and fled from the car, avoiding Martha on the ground who tried to swipe her legs with that no-longer-concealed knife of hers. Davis was lying not far from her, an injured arm cradled to his ruptured gut, but his other hand was reaching out, fingers inching closer towards the gun next to him.

'No!'

Clementine brought her foot down on his hand, the man crying out as she scooped up the weapon and got clear of the two strangers before either could do a thing about it. From there, trembling all over, Clementine rushed up to raise that handgun and pointed it straight at Joe who had been just seconds from hurting her with that machete; the blade frozen in mid-swing.

He backed off the moment that gun was on him, holding his hands up in immediate surrender, yet he didn't drop the machete.

"Okay, just take it easy now darlin'-"

"Shut up!" Clementine yelled, her breaths raspy from her struggles and her limbs feeling weak as if she might pass out at any second. But she wouldn't let exhaustion stop her lowering that gun, nothing would!

Luke was lying face down in the road. His ear had stopped bleeding, but he wasn't moving, not a single muscle. She couldn't see a drop of blood on the machete. Joe hadn't slit his throat or cut the head from his shoulders; he meant to though, he'd intended to kill Luke! They still might!

"Look, Clementine right? You win, alright you win!" Joe said flustered, almost seeming unnatural to his earlier tough guy attitude as he started to break out in a sweat. His eyes kept flicking over to his injured partner and friend, appearing more concerned about them than taking Clementine out; even to show it, Joe finally dropped the machete down at his feet, kicking it away in her direction. "See? You beat us! So you just, n-now you just be lettin' us go and we'll be on our way, okay!? There won't be no more trouble, we'll drive off and that'll be the end of it; we'll leave you both the hell alone, alright kid!?"

There was something Clementine remembered Carlos once saying, that aside from lurkers and people being guilty of cold-blooded murder and other immoral acts, nothing unnerved him more than a child holding a gun. 'Unpredictable and dangerous.' Clementine once took that as an insult from the doctor, not trusting her to use a weapon like the other grown-ups. Only now did Clementine understand that fear was not Carlos' alone.

Joe was afraid, afraid of the unpredictability Carlos was so judgmental of her for. And after having gunned down both his friends, Joe knew he could be one wrong move from getting his brains blown out like he deserved.

Clementine wanted to do it, to kill him for nearly taking away her friend, and her. It would be really easy too, so easy just to pull the trigger and shoot all three of them so they could never hurt anybody else again. With them gone, she and Luke could take their car and get to Wellington in no time. All she'd have to do was shoot and it would happen, she could make it happen! But her finger just remained wavering on the trigger of that gun, refusing to fire. Clementine really wanted to, so much she couldn't even say, but she couldn't bring it into action and carry out the deed. Because for the first time ever, she was the one in control, and for as long as she was, they couldn't do anything…

Clementine had the choice, not them.

She sighted movement on her left. It was Martha, crawling over to Davis who was lying on his back battling for breath, stuttering out words of mercy to his friend that he didn't want to die. He was in a bad way, Clementine could tell that long before the woman undid his coat, and she saw the man's shirts beneath drenched in a red stain that was quickly growing.

The desperation in Martha's face as she darted a look over at Joe held at gunpoint, it wasn't fake, nor was the pleading in her partner's eyes that he returned back to her.

"J-Joe!?"

'You've killed lots of things now; it didn't even matter.'

'Killing is bad, no matter what.'

'But you do it now to protect yourself, and to protect me.'

'It doesn't make it good.'

"Please kid," Joe asked of her, nearly begging with his hands still both raised…as one small step at a time, Clementine shakily watched him move, not to make a grab for the machete or to go for her or Luke, but to edge slowly over to where his two companions laid hurt and suffering. And as he did, Clementine ended up sidestepping slowly in the opposite direction to where Luke was still unconscious, not once looking away from Joe or lowering the gun.

Clementine kept the weapon trained on the man as he'd gone to go join Martha and Davis, and there she still stood on her guard as Joe had gotten Davis into the car, his blonde-haired partner seating herself next to him to maybe treat his injuries along with her own. But in that single moment of pause before Joe got behind the wheel to drive them to the safety, he turned his head and looked over at Clementine from where she was.

Joe never said a word again; all he did, was give her one long nasty look as if he wouldn't forget this, he wouldn't forget her…

They left as Joe had sworn to, driving off down the road and not once stopping. Only when they were far enough away, and didn't look as though they would be coming back to finish them off any time soon, did Clementine crumble down onto her knees and drop the handgun; shaken up and scared, but not dead, not taken.

Too close, way too close.

Catching her breath, Clementine pushed herself up again, gun once again in hand as she was quick to go to her older friend's side. She dropped to her knees, gently shaking him by his shoulder.

"Luke? Luke...?"

He wouldn't wake up, not even a flicker of the eyelids. But she could just see it, those faint vapor clouds appearing with each breath coming into contact with that cold air. Clementine even leaned down to have a listen with one ear to be sure she wasn't just imagining things, but she could hear it for sure, hear him breathing.

Luke was still alive; he'd make it, hopefully.

"You idiot," Clementine found herself saying, but just grateful that she could. If it wasn't for him already taking a beating and being out cold, she'd have hit him herself.

A distant groan from the fields got her attention, soon hearing many more of them to follow it. Walkers, the lost ones that weren't so lost anymore; they'd been brought over by the gunshots, the cold having them moving at a snail's pace towards the road, yet it wouldn't take them long to get here.

Clementine glanced back down at the still unresponsive Luke, not showing any signs of coming to any time soon, and then at the gun she'd taken off Davis. Quickly she removed the clip, dropping it on her lap to check the bullets.

Not enough, not for how many walkers were out there.

"Crap."

About to shake Luke's shoulder again, Clementine stopped herself in the midst of doing so at spotting the female walker her friend had downed earlier next to that corpse. Then, an idea sprung to mind, one to have saved Clementine's life before, thanks to Lee...

Standing up, Clementine went to retrieve Luke's machete from the ground, gingerly making her way to that female walker to get to work.

This was going to get messy.

---

If there was anything Clementine missed about Sarah, it was the games they used to play.

It'd been years having since hung out with someone her own age; Clementine hadn't, not after Duck had passed away. She had almost forgotten what it was really like to be a kid again, because childhood was something she'd tried to let go of, believing that growing up faster would help her become stronger at enduring the worst. Meeting Sarah however, it'd caused Clementine to realize how much of her old self she'd really left behind, but how dangerously sheltered that fifteen-year-old was, and no thanks to her overprotective dad who didn't want to lose Sarah like he had his wife.

To shield his daughter from every little harmful thing, Carlos had done so out of love, yet that doctor with all the brainy medical skills he'd possessed had failed to see that he was doing Sarah more harm than good, causing the girl to have many phobias as a result of all that protecting, lots. Sarah would get anxious over the slightest mishap or whenever her dad went too far away from her. She also had a strong dislike of bugs, having hated the things so much that Sarah would freak out if even a fly so much as buzzed near her, or she found an ant crawling on her clothes.

When the sun went down, Sarah became more of a nightmare, because as it'd turned out, she was also as afraid of the dark just as much as she'd been of walkers and other animals out there in the wilderness. Granted, Clementine never liked sleeping out in the woods and still hated spiders too, but Sarah was a timid rabbit in comparison to her; the poor girl had been too terrified to sleep a lot of the time those weeks after leaving the cabin from the threat of Carver and his men. It was probably because of this, that both Clementine and Sarah had rested with their sleeping bags next to each other on doctor's orders, and for what inevitably caused Clementine to be kept awake because of that teenager's fears, far more than her own.

"Did you hear that?"

"Clem, I think there's a bug in my hair."

"D-did something just move over there?"

"I really, really think there's a bug in my hair, Clem!"

"Are you sure you didn't see anything!?"

How Clementine envied Carlos for being such a heavy sleeper, leaving her to have to deal with Sarah's phobias for the most part. It'd driven Clementine nuts, and was perhaps why their friendship was a rocky road she just put up with walking on in the beginning. They wouldn't have even been calling each other "best friends" in the first place if she hadn't agreed to the pinky swear, something Clementine had only done out of fear that Sarah might've told on her for sneaking about the cabin to steal supplies right under everybody's noses.

There were a lot of sleepless nights that Clementine regretted making that oath; if it weren't for Carlos being there, she would've been straight-out honest with Sarah and told her to zip it, or have slept the furthest away from her so she could get some shuteye. Sadly Clementine couldn't and by the third night with shadows thickening under both girls' eyes, Clementine resorted to braiding Sarah's hair at night and even lending over her baseball cap so the teenager would stop complaining about the creepy crawlies.

Thankfully, it was those guessing games Clementine had Sarah join in which were the key to keeping her anxious mind distracted, and tiring her out so she'd drift off to sleep faster, a task that'd taken lots of time and effort. Yet unbeknownst to Clementine, it was the starting point of changing around what she thought of that sheltered teenager.

"I swim in the water, and I'm really smart; what am I?"

"Um…a…a fish?"

After having received so many other obvious answers prior to that, Clementine had struggled to keep the annoyance from her voice. "Not really; it's a...mammal."

The young teenager hummed while she thought away, her soft brown eyes squinting up at those twinkling stars without the aid of her red glasses as she held the sleeping bag up to her chin so no bugs could get in.

"I swim in the water, and I'm really smart," Sarah repeated slower, and then like fireworks those innocent eyes had lit up. "Wait, a dolphin!"

"Shh!"

A grumble stirred here and there from the sleeping forms gathered around the low flames of that small campfire, and a dozy Nick sitting on a log on guard duty had been promptly woken by that bubbly voice. The young man was quick to play it cool as he'd glanced around the camp, making sure nobody had seen him snoozing on the job, yet some minutes later he'd soon drifted off, again, and for what was not the first time that night, Clementine had reminded herself to find a big enough rock to wake him up after she was done trying to send Sarah off to sleep...

"Okay, my turn!" Sarah had whispered all giddy after they were done pretending to be sleeping for the no longer awake Nick, at least Sarah had anyway. "I'm fluffy and I purr, and I like milk too."

To even pretend that Clementine was pausing to figure it out was a hurdle too high for her thoughts to jump.

"A cat?"

"Yes! That's exactly it!" Sarah had praised, still not the least bit sleepy. "Your turn, Clem!"

"Um…" with a yawn Clementine had done her best to focus and give the next animal mystery to be solved, her eyes failing to stay open. "My legs and neck are the same length, and I stand really tall."

"My legs are…neck? Oh! A GIRAFFE!"

At that ecstatically spoken word, Nick's finger must've accidently squeezed on the rifle's trigger, because seconds after there'd been one hell of a BANG that startled the young man awake along with everybody else by the sound of that bullet being fired up into the night sky; even Clementine and Sarah had sat up in a flash because of it, hearts jumping in their chests in alarm.

As quickly as it took everybody to realize Nick hadn't been shooting at walkers, it wasn't a surprise that all the adults in the group were left none too happy about their rude awakening.

"Jesus Christ Nick!"

"Are you out of your fuckin' mind!?"

"Crazy motherfucker, you'll bring the lurkers right down on us!"

"I wasn't-I thought I saw something!"

"Oh sure you did. I swear if it weren't for this baby I'd give you a piece of my mind!"

"I ain't no liar! I'm telling you the truth! Luke, back me up here!"

It'd been Clementine's fault, more than Sarah's. She'd started the whole thing with the guessing games in the first place. Yet as the group argued at Nick's incompetence and agreed for Alvin to take over standing watch, Clementine couldn't speak up. The arguing, it all became background noise when she'd noticed Sarah beside her looking absolutely petrified, trembling like crazy as if she might die of fright at any given second.

Sarah, she had been just like that a near month later when Carver's camp was alit all around them, his followers fleeing from the buildings on fire, with many being eaten alive by the walkers the flames attracted. The sight of it all had glued Sarah to the spot, that if it weren't for her dad urging her to run and both he and Clementine pulling the teenager along, she might've been burned or been eaten alive along with them.

The insecurities of that girl had frightened Clementine, at how vulnerable she really was when push came to shove. She wasn't strong-willed, and couldn't handle any form of disappointment, and the tiniest bit of danger had her panicking. Sarah was all the innocence this world hadn't corrupted or destroyed yet, but it would, and it had. Yet back then, Clementine just couldn't tell the group the truth and get her in trouble. It was why rather than admit it was them to save Nick from an earful, Clementine had gently rested a hand on Sarah's shoulder and told her to get some rest; that time, the teen listened without much fuss, although before they'd drifted off, Clementine was sure she'd heard Sarah whisper out a tiny sorry to her.

They had still played their infamous guessing games after that incident, but with a lot less enthusiasm on Sarah's part. The subject changed to other categories over those weeks when they ran out of animals to guess, switching to things like film actors or singers and so on. The pair also got into playing I spy when there weren't just trees to look at, and some Truth or dare too; well, actually it wasn't really Truth or dare because Sarah didn't like the "dare" part very much, so it was more like "Truth or truth" or "Truth or lie" as it evolved into, where for the lie part, they'd exaggerate tales like "I was an astronaut," or "I slayed dragons in a past life" something that both had gotten really carried away with. Over time Clementine ended up not minding playing those games with Sarah, but enjoyed them, despite how sleep-deprived she was. Clementine never thought she'd feel this way, but she missed it...mostly because, it was from those games the two girls played that Clementine began to really care and like Sarah as a real friend, than out of courtesy of being nice to a girl who wasn't emotionally strong as her kind heart was.

One good thing about being at the ski lodge though, was that Clementine hadn't needed to worry about Sarah disturbing her too much once they were indoors and out of both a bug-free and walker-free environment. The only downside to the upside was that other much bigger problems were to put Clementine at unrest.

After the bridge incident and learning of Matthew's identity, she'd worried greatly for Nick and the mistakes he'd made that Walter wanted to plunge a knife in his chest for. The ex-school teacher might very well have gone through with it too, if she weren't there for her friend outside that ski lodge that night, ready to put herself between the two men and protect Nick from harm if she had to.

"I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Walter."

But Walter wasn't to do anything; he had just put Matthew's knife away, stubbed out that cigarette, and gone back inside without a word.

When Luke found out, they'd agreed not to bring the incident up with the others and that they would all leave first thing in the morning to avoid causing any further trouble. Yet after that talk, Clementine had been afraid to close her eyes, spending most of the night awake listening for any sound on those stairs, in case Walter came up to get revenge over his dead partner, a fear that plagued into what few dreams Clementine had that night—dreams of the grieving man standing over Nick's body with bloody knife in hand; Clementine was certain that for a while too, Nick and Luke couldn't sleep for the same reasons.

But there was something she had failed to mention before bed about their plans to leave the ski lodge, and that too, left Clementine more restless the longer her mind was to dwell on it that night. Because if they were to go, then it would've meant leaving behind her old friend that she'd been so glad to see again after all that time.

Kenny, he had been furious after learning of Matthew's death from Walter that morning to come; so angry Kenny was, he'd stormed straight up those stairs to where their group was still sleeping, soon waking them all up as he'd forced Nick up by his shirt and threatened to throw him over the banister, yelling and cursing every vile thing he could think of at Nick who'd begged for Kenny not to kill him. It was only thanks to Sarita and some brute force from Luke and Carlos separating the two in order to rescue their friend, that Kenny had finally laid off.

The old fisherman had ordered them out, told the group to get their butts out the door and leave the ski lodge. As confused and begrudged as most their group was at the revelations they hadn't known a thing of until that morning, they had all still reluctantly listened and gotten their things ready.

They might've separated then, and let that be that, but when they were at the door, the very moment that Kenny had seen Nick give Clementine her backpack, well…

"The hell you think you're doin'!?"

"Wha, uh…"

"Don't what me boy! You really think I'm lettin' you take that girl away with your lot after what you did to Matthew? Like hell if I have any fuckin' say in it!" Kenny yelled, stabbing a thumb over his shoulder at Sarita and at the very sullen-looking Walter, who'd stood at a distance from the group, not contributing a word. "She's stayin', with us!"

"Says who?" Luke had asked like an accusation. "She ain't nobody's property alright, she can make up her own mind!"

"Yeah and she'll tell ya she's stayin'; that right Clem? You don't want to go with these turd brain fugitives do you?"

It was a painful thing, having to hear Kenny talk about her new-found friends like that, and for it all to come from somebody she cared about too…

Clementine couldn't put into words how happy she was that Kenny was there with her again; nothing could express that after believing for so long that he'd died in Savannah like Christa and Omid said he had. But when Kenny had addressed her then, so full of confidence that she would say 'yes' and give him all the more valid reason to kick the group out, Clementine was left tongue-tied. Because even though she was reluctant to say goodbye to them, she'd realized that she didn't know what she wanted, if to stay or to go.

Her parents were dead, Lee was gone, and so were Christa and Omid too. She had been so used to following others, that to be put on the spot there and then over such an important decision on which group to stick with, she simply couldn't do it. Clementine hated goodbyes and in a world without phones or being able to send letters to people, and where the dead and living took away lives every single day, there was always the possibility that she might not see one or the other of her friends again.

If the past was anything to go on, that couldn't be more true.

"I…I don't know…"

The hurt on Kenny's face had been the worst. "What, Clem…"

Before the man was able to say anymore, Sarita had lightly touched his arm. "Kenny, please; don't pressurize her, she's just a child."

"Sarita-"

"I'm just as upset about Matthew as you are, but this isn't helping, not anyone," the woman had said with reason, her voice almost soothing. "Please honey, they have a pregnant woman with them. At least allow them some food first before sending them on their way; we can discuss after that on what to do then and what she wants. It should be her decision-"

"No, NO! There ain't nothin' to be discussin'! You hear me!?" Kenny retaliated having wrenched his arm free. "I'm tellin' ya they just got her all confused, just like the fucker on the radio did back in Savannah!"

Just at the mention of the stranger to have taken her hostage years before, Clementine's hands had tightened knuckle-white on the backpack held in her arms, her lungs holding onto the air trapped within them.

" 'The radio'? The hell's he talking about?" she'd distantly heard Alvin ask, not quite understanding what Kenny meant, for she hadn't told them everything with what'd happened to her old group. All they knew was that her parents were dead, and a little about Lee and the others who had died too. Only Luke was vaguely aware about it, and only he would ever learn the full story and all its details much later on, because he was the only one besides her in that room that would ever live long enough to hear it all.

"Oh don't play innocent with me. You're probably in cahoots with him too, the whole lot of ya!" Kenny shouted accusingly, having looked ready to get violent all over again like he had with Nick. "For all we know you're all just a bunch of fuckin' sickos that like to-"

"STOP IT! That's enough!"

Even before all this, years ago when Mom and Dad argued when they were alive, Clementine had hated fights and had never enjoyed hearing them. It'd felt like it then too, having to hear the grown-ups not getting along, and there being nothing she could say to make them stop. It'd reminded her too much of that run-down Motor Inn too, having to hear the fighting that went on between Kenny and Lilly, while Lee was always the one in the middle trying to keep the peace…and it never worked. It'd happened before, arguments that divided their group and the last time it did, somebody died for it.

Clementine didn't want that to happen again, for another life to be taken. So when silence fell in that ski lodge and all eyes were on her, Clementine knew she had to say more before anybody else got hurt.

"Nick…Nick's not a bad guy; he was just trying to help us, Kenny! He thought we were in trouble! He didn't mean it, and he's sorry, he really is!"

"Clemen-"

"Everybody makes mistakes! They do! But it doesn't make them a bad person for it. Bad stuff just happens, a-and you just…you just..." having gripped her backpack tighter and avoiding any eye contact with the ex-teacher and his saddening gaze, she'd continued. "So don't hate him, and don't take it out on my friends! If it were Katjaa and Duck on that bridge, you've would've done the same! You would've, Kenny!"

It'd been too much. Clementine had gone too far by mentioning their names. But it was too late to take any of it back, the damage already done as it'd cut through her friend's chest like a knife, and reopened the old wounds that'd never truly healed…

She had seen what had happened before with Ben, how Kenny had wanted to tear him limb from limb for the actions that had indirectly caused Katjaa's and Duck's deaths. Clementine overheard him argue with Lee too when they were back at the house after Crawford, ridiculing the man for not letting Ben fall. Kenny had been hurting then, and she could relate to that more than the next person, but to wish somebody dead who wasn't bad or mean at heart, where was the humanity in that?

Even now after all those to have died by her own hand, Clementine couldn't take any satisfaction from it. She hated death.

Kenny, he hadn't said a word in return to that, leaving the group feeling like they were treading on eggshells until Walter was to speak up at long last, saying that he would go and prepare some food for everybody; it was more of an excuse to break up the drama than to cook anything up, because all they ate were cold peaches for their breakfast that morning. Clementine was just glad the ex-teacher had squeezed in the suggestion quickly, before Kenny or anybody said something else they regretted.

The tension between the two groups didn't go away, even though few words were exchanged during that breakfast. Luke and the others made it clear that it was her decision on what she wanted to do, despite not appearing all too approving of leaving her with somebody like Kenny that they'd all known for little less than a day, and who had almost killed Nick.

Kenny was a different story; in a calmer frame of mind than before and the hurt on his face ever present that had left Clementine lacking the stomach for any more peaches, too wracked with guilt for bringing up his family on bad terms. He'd seemed to have forgiven her about it, yet had still been very against Clementine leaving with that group, all of whom he'd continued to watch just as suspiciously as they had him from their table.

"All I'm sayin' is you should be with people you can trust Clementine, and we don't know shit about these folks. They could be lying convicts that'll kill us all the first chance they get; hell they got this Carver guy after them, what more proof do you need? You understand, don't you Clem? Just say the word and they're gone; we'll kick'em out and be headin' on our way to Wellington by the week's end."

Those words were what Kenny had tried to persuade her with when Clementine had gone over to check on him, something that was difficult to listen to. The old fisherman so wanted her to say yes, he really did, but what Kenny was too blind to see was that Clementine didn't want to leave anybody; she wanted everyone to stay together. Maybe he thought he knew what was best for her, that keeping her safe and away from those that were being hunted by a dangerous man was for the best too, especially after what Nick had accidently gone and done to Matthew.

It was her decision, yet Clementine hadn't an answer she could give him. She couldn't figure out how to put it into words for Kenny to listen or understand...and, it was the same for everybody else too. It all got so stressful, having to decide and with so little time to make up her mind. So much so, that when breakfast was over and Sarita went to speak with Kenny alone in private, Clementine quietly slipped away into the girls' bathroom and locked herself in one of the cubicles, where she had just sat on the toilet seat, feeling like she wanted to burrow herself into the ground, and never come out.

A real surprise it was however, that when Clementine was at her lowest in that moment and worried for the worst to come, she was to find support in the last person she expected to come walking into that restroom and find her brooding alone with her thoughts.

"Clem?" A tiny knock at that cubicle door was so light it could have come from something as small as a mouse. Sarah's shy face had appeared in the crack of that door, almost cautious as if worried Clementine was using the toilet for its purpose, yet the teen had soon relaxed when she'd seen that she wasn't. "Are you okay?"

Clementine hadn't really wanted to say yes or no, as it was obvious what Sarah was talking about which had Clementine not her usual self. So, she had just shaken her head instead, staring at her shoes and those remarkably spotless tiles that were as clean as the rest of the ski lodge thanks to its current occupants.

With a sorrowful look, Sarah seemed like she wasn't sure where to go from there as both girls went quiet like two kids in a school play that'd forgotten their lines.

And then...

"Can I tell you a secret?"

Waiting for Clementine to give her approval, it was only then Sarah pulled something out from her cardigan pocket. Crouching down, she'd held her hand out under the cubicle door, where there in her palm, had been three gold coins. They weren't real gold or even actual coins for that matter, just chocolate wrapped in gold foil.

After having spent days with little to eat and nothing but peaches and beans since arriving at the ski lodge, those chocolate coins immediately had Clementine's mouth watering.

"I um, found them in with the decorations. Somebody must've forgotten about them, or they were tossed in by mistake," Sarah had said quietly, glancing over her shoulder as if worried someone would come in and she'd be caught red-handed. "I was going to ask Sarita if we could all share them, but then I forgot, and everybody got really mad so…I-I don't wanna get in trouble; you won't tell anyone will you? You can have them if you want, but just don't tell? Pinky promise? I don't want my dad knowing; he yelled at with me the last time for the bandages, and um…"

Sarah stopped talking when Clementine had stood up, the nervous teen removing her hand with the offered chocolate as that door was unbolted and opened. Clementine had stayed there almost hesitant, peeping partway out from the cubicle, refusing to let go of the frame of that flimsy door as something inside her started to chip away...

"Sarah?"

"Yeah, Clem?"

Scratching at the broken edge of the plastic door with its ugly flowery patterns, Clementine's voice became unsteady as she was to give out a small request that she never thought she'd ever ask someone for, and especially not Sarah.

"Can I…can I have a hug?"

The teen had looked taken aback for a moment, holding those coins close to her chest as if unsure Clementine was being serious, but she had been, dead serious.

Timidly, Sarah had shrugged. "Um, sure I guess, if, if you want."

No sooner was she given the okay, had Clementine opened that cubicle door all the way and took those few small steps forward, wrapping her arms around Sarah's waist as Clementine leaned her head on the older girl's shoulder.

It'd been an awkward hug, one Sarah hadn't really responded to, not until Clementine had started unintentionally shedding tears and sniffling like a baby, that in turn caused the fifteen-year-old to drop one of those chocolate coins on the floor as she'd shyly rested her hands on both Clementine's shoulders, sounding both surprised, but concerned too.

"Clem, are you okay? Don't cry, please don't. Clem…"

She hadn't meant to, but she just couldn't hold them in, the tears. Clementine played the tough girl all these years as to not let herself appear weak. Even when Christa and Omid were alive, she wasn't as overly affectionate to the couple as she had been with Lee. After a whole year alone with Christa where not even a smile was shared, happiness, real honest happiness seemed impossible to feel again, and that was the case, for a really long time. Clementine got used to bottling emotions up because of it, yet there she'd been with these new people she cared about, those who she'd formed friendships with and had been able to open up to again...and she was frightened of that all being taken away by having them split up.

That was why Clementine got upset, even if she couldn't come right out and say it. Sarah hadn't needed to listen either, she had just been there for her, and that was enough.

For the longest time afterwards they had sat against the wall of that restroom where the pair had shared those three chocolate coins between them, eating them in tiny bites, for they wanted to enjoy the taste of chocolate while it was still there. And while they had, they'd talked, just about silly things, like stuff they used to do when they were at school, to their favorite songs or food too...as if, as if the apocalypse never really happened.

In a way it was nice, just to talk without it being on the subject of survival or walkers. Clementine was grateful to have had that, to have felt normal again for just a little while.

"We'll always be friends, won't we?"

With that last chocolate coin unwrapped and broken in two to share, Clementine had stopped eating her half at the lonesome expression on Sarah's face, and all from the question the fifteen-year-old had asked.

Clementine didn't have it in her to say yes, because nothing was really forever, and the future wasn't something she could have faith in entirely. But she hadn't dared to say no either, as not to make Sarah more sad, especially after her having been so nice to be as supportive as she was that day.

Instead, Clementine said:

"Why do you ask?"

Sarah had nibbled at her piece of chocolate, not meeting Clementine's gaze. "It's nothing…I only, I had this friend once who I, w-who I really thought was my bestest friend in the whole wide world. But after these new girls came to our school, she didn't want to know me anymore, said I was boring."

"Oh," Clementine toyed with that golden foil with the imprint of the coin's engravings, creating a tear down the middle. "That, sounds mean."

"Yeah it was. It made me really sad too; I thought I knew her," Sarah had looked to her then, her eyes filled with a hopeful wish she wanted fulfilled like a kid wishing on a star. "If we all go to Wellington, it'll be safe there right? There might be lots of nice people there, with a school and everything. If there is, well…I just wanted to know if we'd still be friends."

Discussing going up north with Sarah had felt strange. They hadn't settled on going to Wellington, not officially with the two groups that were so divided at the time. Luke and the others had taken a keen interest on going there after learning of that rumored camp thanks to Kenny, more so since Rebecca was so close to her due date. For them, the trip seemed worth the risk if it meant finding somewhere safe for them all, and, somewhere safe to raise her newborn baby.

The plan was there, ready for them to set out on, but not with everybody together in that ski lodge.

Sarah was afraid of saying goodbye, but that wasn't all. Whether they would travel together or apart, eventually, if, they had both survived and got there to Wellington in their own time, the question was: would they still be friends, or would their lives split off in two different directions and carry on as if they'd never met each other?

That was why their friendship was left in doubt to Sarah, and what had that shy teenager so sad. Clementine was still a newbie to their group at the time, and didn't have to stay with them.

"Sarah…"

"I-It's okay if you don't want to; you don't have to!" Sarah rushed out, the disappointment playing into her body language as she fidgeted with the sleeve of her blue cardigan. "But it'd be fun if we did stay friends, wouldn't it? I know we won't see each other all the time, coz like, we'd be in different grades and schools and stuff, but we can hang out any time after that! We could go to the library if they have one, or ride our bikes in the park, a-and we can have sleepovers too! I always wanted to have one of those, but Dad was always strict about it. He'd probably be okay with you though because you're nice, and not a boy; Dad never likes me being friends with boys, he always scares them away. Like, this one time on Valentine's Day, this one boy named Todd…"

Clementine had only partly listened to Sarah chatter on incessantly about that boy who once had an innocent crush on her, never interrupting Sarah once through every unintentionally funny detail given that had revealed how protective Carlos and Sarah's mother had really been of their daughter back when Sarah had a mother. Hearing all that stuff about Sarah's life before and about her childhood, it'd made Clementine long to have her own childhood back too.

There was a time in Crawford, sitting in that classroom surrounded by all the school books and childish drawings, that Clementine had asked Lee if things would ever be the same again, and really hoped that they would be someday as he'd once said and believed in. Sarah's own dreams of that same hope sounded too good to be true, an impossible thing for their lives to be that perfect and carefree after every uphill struggle they had been through and were yet to face. Even as overly naive as they were, Clementine realized she still had those very same hopes and dreams herself, hidden behind all the walls she'd built up to protect herself and become stronger as a person. But they were broken down over time in the company of that new group, along with her forced friendship with a doctor's daughter who she'd eventually warmed up to.

The truth was, Clementine wanted to go to school again; she wanted to read books in the library and to learn how to ride a bike and have sleepovers too. She wanted a normal life, to be a kid again and to have friends...and already, Clementine had found that friendship with these strangers, and with Sarah as well. Even if it took a while and Sarah had been too innocent to ever figure that out, Clementine didn't want to lose what they had…

"We'll be friends."

Sarah's face had brightened up with a radiant smile of delight, minutes after she'd stopped telling her story and they sat together within that silence. "R-Really? We will!?"

Clementine, smiling too, had held out her little finger. "Yeah, we will."

And with an oath of that pinky swear made that time around without any form of deceit behind it, they'd gobbled up the last of the chocolate, rolling that golden foil into small nuggets, with Clementine's heart feeling that much less burdened.

"Thanks Clem. You know, when we get there, we should make sure we live in the same street so we can see each other whenever! Heeey, maybe you can live with me and dad! Wouldn't that be so cool!?"

"Um…"

Praise the peaches and beans that Rebecca had come into the restroom to check on them a little after that, and saved Clementine from having to answer. But it was thanks to that talk with Sarah, Clementine was able to make up her mind and tell Kenny the truth; she couldn't abandon her group.

It'd been just as difficult a thing to say as it was for the man to accept. But when he finally understood, Kenny had said something that surprised Clementine. He had decided that they would go with them to Wellington together as a whole group, both her friends and him, Sarita and Walter.

"Lee and I bumped heads more times than I dare to count, but that son of a bitch, he always thought he knew best and he helped me deal with tough times. We might not have always seen eye to eye, but he still looked out for Katjaa and Duck even when we didn't agree, and I damn well know he cared about you like his own flesh and blood, Clementine. If there's any way of makin' it up to him now, then it'll be makin' sure you're safe like he'd want you to be."

Clementine could've hugged the old fisherman again like she had outside the ski lodge; she nearly did. The others had seemed a little unsure on bringing Kenny and the others along, but after the adults talked it over on how they'd actually get to Wellington, that shaky agreement was set in place, and the two groups put their differences aside.

They had all left the ski lodge that morning and started the journey up north to Ohio where Wellington waited. There had been arguments, and times not everybody got along, but they were together and Clementine couldn't have asked for more. Tensions weren't as high as before at least, that even Walter was to later break his silence with Nick and try to make amends with the man, telling him that he at least understood that Nick hadn't killed Matthew out of spite and was just trying to protect her and Luke.

Sarah of course, still had her phobias; nevertheless things weren't as frustrating with the teenager after that. Clementine took more pleasure from playing their games and even reading pages out of Sarah's favorite 'The Guurgles' novel and acting out silly voices of the characters for fun.

Clementine did remember one thing in particular that stood out most of all. Before they left the ski lodge, Sarah had taken a decoration from that tree, one of the red Christmas balls, since the angel at the top of the tree was too big to fit in her already full backpack. Sarah said that when Christmas Day came, she would find a tree, just any old tree out there to hang the decoration on, as a way of celebrating the festive day. It'd sounded dumb at first, but it did always brighten up Clementine's mood whenever Sarah took out that decoration during the evenings and held it up to the light of the campfire, as if it was something to remind her that Christmas was another day closer to reaching them.

A Christmas with everybody together, it didn't have to be cheesy or fancy with presents or a tree, just everybody there alive and well would've been enough of a gift for Clementine. She thought, hoped, that would be enough and that they'd all pull through until then. Little did they know however, that just three days after leaving the ski lodge, Carver and his men would track them down, Walter would be killed, and the rest of them taken back to Carver's camp, where many of them wouldn't escape alive.

When Christmas Day finally rolled around, their group was gone and it was just her and Luke, spending the day without food and the night running from walkers...

They might've been only friends for nearly a month, but knowing Sarah and having that talk with her that time sitting on the floor of that restroom, it'd helped Clementine come to terms with something. That even though she had been forced to be brave like any adult to prove she was capable and keep going, inside it was another story, because Clementine was still very much afraid and insecure, maybe not to the extreme that Sarah was, but it was still there lurking under her skin.

And with every mile covered that brought her and Luke ever closer to their destination in the north, so was that fear, born from that very insecurity, festering more and more inside Clementine's brain like a tumor.