CLEM'S AGE: TWENTY

Jane's POV

"Ladies and gents, we will be touching down in Missouri within a few short moments. Please fasten your seatbelts as we prepare to make our descent."

"You do realize that there are only three of us in here, right?" Alden chimes from the back, poking his head in from between the seats. "Unless of course your vision suddenly got impaired, which is something that you should probably tell us, Katie. No need for all the dramatic entrances."

To get the boy (or man more specifically, as the past five years have resulted in a bit of a growth spurt for him) to sit down and shut his yapper, Katie purposely tips the helicopter to the right a little bit, something that neither of us appreciate.

Smacking her upside the head, Katie chuckles before fixing our altitude. Before long, we touch down onto the yellowish grass of Ranger's Grove. Hopping out the side without a word to either of them, I slide open the back door and refuse Alden's help to carry some of my load.

"A little fun never hurt no one," Katie sings lightly, taking off her headset before patting Alden on the knee. "C'mon, squirt. Off your ass – it's about time that you stretch your legs, anyways."

Smirking at that, Alden undoes his seatbelt and tries to help me again, but I brush him off as I turn away from the duo and head out past the suburbs; a box of goods in my hands as I notice the farmland set up to the left of me. These folks sure have been busy since I was last here.

I can't say that I blame them for their abnormally cheery attitude lately – this system we've developed has really started to grow over the past five years. What started off as a simple back and forth exchange has grown into a survival setup unlike anything I have ever seen since before this all went down. The Houston Space Centre has grown into more than just a place to live, with everyone within the walls having a part to play in order to keep the community running smoothly. My job usually involves going out on supply runs to the surrounding towns to scavenge what I can, but yesterday I was basically assigned to come with these two nutjobs since Scott's come down with a minor case of the flu.

I didn't really have much choice in the matter, with Clementine basically mentioning it to me before taking off to do other things, but I guess it really doesn't faze me all that much. It's not as if I haven't done this before, and I know the people here who are in charge of the drop-offs, so at least it's not totally awkward.

But the man responsible for that, Jordan, is a bit of a douchebag at times. I think he takes the pride in his work a little too seriously.

"You're a week late," he accuses as I approach, dropping my crate at his feet as he marks something off on his checklist. "Care to explain? We've had the corn ready since Monday, Jane – Monday. You folks will be lucky if it doesn't spoil by the time it reaches your plates."

Rolling my eyes, I snatch the pen from his hand and sign my name beside his to indicate that the package was successfully delivered. This kind of shit is just a formality, as there's really nothing else written on the blank sheet of paper, but it lets their group know that they aren't being short-shafted in terms of the trading.

After putting down my John Hancock, I give him back the pen and tap my foot; waiting admittedly impatiently for some of his boys to bring over some of the corn bushels. "Dates don't exist anymore, dumbass," I point out, always finding it amusing whenever he goes red in the face. Seconds later, however, he simply grunts and calms down. "And anyways, we were having problems with getting gas to take the chopper over. Jet fuel isn't exactly easy to come by, you know."

"So what'd you bring me, then?" he interrupts, obviously not in the mood to hear my excuses.

"What? Suddenly you don't trust me now?"

"I need to do inventory, genius! Can't just toss the box on a shelf somewhere and forget that it even existed," Jordan points out as I sigh before sliding the flaps of the box open; revealing a small pack of antibiotics, some fresh bandages, gauze and a handful of unused needles. Resting on top of that are some old books that I scrounged up from a local library, but those really were more trouble than they were worth. Nearly cost me an arm when a walker got the jump on me in between some of the shelves.

Still, a little reading material would probably be good for some of the people around this place. It's a hell of a lot better than their alternative – taking turns with beating the living crap out of each other for fun. UFC my ass… I don't think that those fighters ever resorted to beating each other over the head with wooden planks.

"There's a few more boxes where those came from," I elaborate, looking over my shoulder as, sure enough, Katie and Alden aren't too far behind with some of their packages. "All of them are medical supplies – should be more than enough for your crew to last a few weeks if not more, easily."

Nodding in approval, and looking as though he's pretty satisfied with the exchange, I watch as two other members of their community holding two bushels of corn each make their way towards us. Carrying one of them within my arms, I grunt as it weighs a lot more than I presumed it would, but nevertheless I carry on with getting these back to the helicopter.

"Aren't you gonna say something about the fields?" Jordan remarks, showing off their handiwork as I briefly pause and glance over at their pride and joy. "Greg finally managed to get that old tractor moving again, so now we can start plowing some of the dirt. Most of it's bone dry right now, but pretty soon we'll be able to grow almost double… no, triple the amount we've got now. There's something to be said about that."

I've got to give these guys some credit: as uninteresting and dull as a farm might be on the surface, those are just the kinds of things that can keep people alive. Fresh vegetables were something that I had definitely missed, and I can't even begin to describe what it was like taking my first bite of that delicious corn on the cob after going so long without it. It made me think of late-night barbecues with Jaime and my parents back before I had gotten kicked out of the house.

"Any casualties lately?" Alden inquires, with me only slightly paying attention as I look out into the fields. I drop my basket of corn and shield my eyes from the sun as I squint in the person's general direction.

Shrugging his shoulders, Jordan sighs deeply as he nods his head. "A couple of teens thought they were being smart one evening – drank all the booze they could find before dicking around off in the fields," he explains with a hint of sadness in his voice. "Couldn't have been seventeen yet… We found their bodies all chewed up and torn to pieces, and the walkers weren't far away. Because of that, we've got patrols set up with guns all around this place to protect the workers – that mistake won't happen again. Not under my watch."

Heading out towards the newly dug-up patch of dirt, I ignore their complaints to come back as I jog over to one particular person struggling to use a garden hoe. The person's bright yellow sunhat is a stark contrast to what I normally would've thought they'd be wearing, as are the green overalls and sandals, but the bandages wrapped around the person's eyes are a dead giveaway.

"Didn't expect to find you out here, Tracy," I quip, watching as she slowly stops what she's doing and turns to my voice. Being blinded by her own group member was a pretty gruesome end for the once former leader, but seeing her like this is a little strange. It's almost as if she's happy about being out in the sun like this.

Reaching out her hand, I tap one of her fingers as she tries to place a name to my face. "…Jane, isn't it?" she acknowledges, nodding her head as she weakly picks her garden hoe back up. The last that I had heard, she was refusing to talk to anyone after having gotten her eyes gouged in, but I didn't even think she was alive, let alone working here. By how scrawny of a build she's put on, however, I get the feeling that she hasn't been eating properly at all. "Oh don't act so surprised that I know who you are… Your pal Ellie's been filling me in on what's been going on at your camp. Seems that you've built up quite the little following over there, what with all of your new people coming in."

"Ellie? She's been talking to you this whole time?" I question, believing for so long that she had only ever accompanied Scott, Alden and Katie on these trips because she wanted to get out of Texas for a little while.

But apparently, she's been a bit of an informant to our former enemy. Tracy's obviously no longer a threat in her current state, but it kind of makes me wonder who else Ellie's been talking to.

Chuckling at my expense, Tracy continues to dig a little bit as she talks to me. I'm a little amazed at how she can actually kind of keep in a straight line with the garden hoe. "She's really the only one who's offered – can't say that I blame the rest of you for ignoring me, but I suppose that's just how it goes. Kid's got a fiery spirit in her, that one," she says a little ominously, telling me this as if it's new information. I've been around long enough to know about Ellie's antics back home, though. "Fiona's occasionally around too, but I haven't heard much from her, either. Usually she's off hunting whatever game she can come across, so I usually tend to the fields alone."

"…why?" I ask, placing a hand on my hip as the summer heat drenches her in sweat. I've never been more grateful than to not have to constantly where that brown jacket of mine – the thing was getting a little weathered out. "Clementine told me that you wanted to die in that office, and let me tell you – there was a lineup of folks banging outside your door for people to volunteer for holding a gun to your head. So… what changed your mind?"

Keeping her mouth shut for a moment, I almost go to repeat myself when she suddenly tries to switch rows; with me having to help her as I take her arm like a frail, old woman.

Swiping the dirt off with one of her gloved hands, Tracy turns to face her next section of dirt before finally answering me. "I've had a mighty long time to reflect on things – there were quite a few lonely nights spent with me curled up into a ball on the kitchen floor," she recalls, actually making me feel slightly bad for her even after all the atrocities she's helped commit. "I hated myself for everything I ever tried to do, and… that first year after… after Joshua… that was a pretty dark time. Suicide was on my mind almost twenty-four seven, and after a while it just became a natural thought process. What was dear, old Tracy good for other than to fuck things up for everyone else? Of course, I could never really find anything to kill myself with, so that was a bit of an issue…"

Feeling a little uncomfortable hearing the inner thoughts of this woman, I close my eyes for a brief moment and picture my sister saying very similar words. Like Tracy, it seems, she had it drilled into her head that nothing was going to change, and that the world was better off without her.

"But you know what changed my mind?" she asks me rhetorically, continuing on as I look at her again. "I started getting out some more; wandering the grounds with Fiona to guide me along. Usually it'd just be a quick walk around the block or something, but the length wasn't important. I realized that despite my handicap, and despite all of the spiteful shit that people were saying about me… I was still here. I made it out the other side when so many others had died. I figured that if I was still going, then I ought to actually try and do something. Moping in the corner wasn't really helping anyone," she reveals, for once having a slightly happier ending instead of concluding with death and regret. "All life is precious, Jane – best you remember that. I don't regret having to come out here and working the fields, and I sure as hell don't regret not taking my own life. This is enough to satisfy me, so instead of hurting anyone else, I've decided to do the best with what I've been given. Can anyone ask for more than that?"

Despite sounding a little too preachy for my tastes, I can kind of understand what she's trying to get across. Tracy must've had quite the epiphany – going from wanting to kill yourself every day, to wanting to live each day to the fullest.

I won't lie and say that the thought of suicide hasn't crossed my side once or twice. Honestly, I'm almost one hundred percent certain that every person on the planet has thought about what would happen were they to try it, and all the heartbreak that it would bring to the people whose lives they've touched in one way or another. That was what it was like for me, anyways.

It was a few months after getting kicked out of the house. That night, Jaime had called me from the house sounding really upset and shit, saying how I wasn't picking up her calls or answering her texts. I remember biting back with the claim that neither her nor our parents gave a rat's ass about me, and that I was severing all ties just to prove that point. There were a few rounds of beer kicking within my system at the time, I'll admit, but I think that I actually meant what I was saying back then. I hated myself for getting kicked out, and I hated my family for doing it. I was all alone in a shitty apartment with an awful job, just barely making it by from day to day.

You know, the cliché movie lifestyle that nearly all the dramas had in them. Except this time, the Hollywood payoff of what would happen afterwards – big house in the suburbs with a happy ending – failed to reach me. Almost as soon as I had moved in, I was to be evicted within the next three or four days. Even though I wasn't paying the bills, somehow I had even gotten it into my head that the landlord was a douchebag, too. So yes, I was a pretty miserable teenager back then.

For me, there was no escape from this never-ending nightmare – I was going to be homeless, and my life was going to shit. So after angrily telling Jaime to leave me alone and shutting off my phone, I laid up against the ratty, disgusting couch just sitting there with my face buried in my hands. What could I do? There was no way that I was getting out of this mess the way that I was going, and now I had just screamed at one of the few people who ever took the time to try and talk to me.

That unopened bottle of aspirin was just sitting on the kitchen table, and in my emotional wreckage, I had actually reached out to grab the damn thing. I even opened the fucking bottle and took one of the pills. Then two more, and another just to start off. After this point, seven pills of aspirin were still in my hand, and I was shaking like hell.

It wasn't until Jaime had called me back just seconds later that I finally stopped. We talked for about half an hour, with me trying to apologize while still acting as if I was the stable sister in the family, and not the other way around.

Jaime, the sister who I tried so hard to save years later, had actually saved me.

"Yo, Jane! Yoo-hoo? We're on a tight schedule here!" Alden chants whilst waving his arms around, either not noticing who it is I'm talking to or just pretending not to. I'm surprised that he wouldn't react somehow considering that Tracy's still loitering around.

"Better catch up with your crew there," she comments wistfully. "Go on then, I've got things to do around here, anyways. Oh, and… sorry about that whole thing with Lilly. Thought for sure you two would go the distance."

Something inside me tenses up at the mere mention of her name, let alone the reminder that we're no longer together, but another part feels… relief? Is that what it is? I can't say that it's been the smoothest of rides living under the same roof as her since we broke up, but it hasn't been nearly as brutal as I would've thought. It took a bit of getting used to, and I ended up moving out of the room to the bottom floor shortly thereafter, but now I'm pretty sure that things between us have gone back to the way it was before, back when it was just the three of us at Houston Hills.

So yeah, that means we try to stay out of each other's way when we can.

Muttering a quick goodbye as I traipse back to the helicopter, I can't help but allow my thoughts to trace back to Ms. Caul. If my hunch is correct, then right now she should be out on a simple scavenging run with Marcus and Racheal. Something about retrieving a bag of guns that one of them had left back at the city library, I dunno.

Nothing they can't handle, I'm sure of it.

Lilly's POV

"FUCK!" I swear, slamming the door shut with Racheal as we both try to hold it steady for dear life. Dust from the hinges kick off into the air as the walkers snap their hungry jaws and try to ram through, but I refuse to let them get into this place – not without putting up one hell of a fight, at least.

My nerves are shot, however, when some of them manage to get a good shove and lightly knock us off the door, but we quickly bounce back as Racheal slashes one walker in the head and shuts it closed again.

"Grr… we can't keep this up forever!" she grunts, telling me what I already know as I try to dig my heels into the rug. "Where the fuck did he go?! He's the one who lost the damn thing, so that bag shouldn't be this hard to find!"

"Don't you dare let go of this thing to check!" I tell her, actually chuckling a little bit at how ridiculous this is. What a mess we've gotten ourselves into! What should've been a quick snatch and grab operation has turned into a massive clusterfuck with very little hope of escaping. There have to be around ten walkers on the other side of this door, none of which are very happy that we've muscled in on their turf.

…or maybe they're happy to have seen three potential meals come along, I don't know. It's not as if I can turn around and ask them.

Not finding this nearly as amusing as I do, Racheal swears again as we both find our strength starting to wane a little bit. That's what we get I suppose for skipping the gym session that Clementine's organized for the group each week, but I honestly didn't think that I needed it.

Clearly, as is the case here, I was wrong about that.

"MARCUS, YOU IDIOT! GET DOWN HERE!" she screeches as we finally see him on the second level; a sheepish grin on his lips and a bagful of weapons in his hands. The guy looks like a little boy who got caught sticking his hand in the cookie jar.

"Well…" he shrugs, "I got 'em."

"Yeah, no shit! Hurry up and help us with this! We can't hold on for much longer…" Racheal states, looking like I've lost my mind as I tell him to stay. "The fuck? Are you serious?! What are you – "

Pointing forwards on the second level, Marcus and Racheal follow my gaze as it lands upon a dusty glass window. Assuming that it's not locked, in which case we might have to shoot our way through, we should be able to make our emergency exit through there.

"There's a dumpster down below – that should be enough to break our fall," I explain, not instilling any confidence in them as I get ready to sprint up the stairs. "On three, ready?"

"No!"

"One… two…" I count down, ignoring Racheal's insistence on how stupid of a plan this is, simply because it's the only one we've got. It's certainly better than wasting bullets trying to force our way through, not to mention all the noise that that would create. "Three!"

Making sure that she's following along, the two of us release our hold on the door as the first couple of walkers fall down like a stack of dominoes. They basically get trampled on by their fellow undead monsters, but none of them seem to feel any pain as their arms are crushed underneath the oncoming stampede.

Running as fast as our legs can carry us, we hop the steps two at a time, with me grabbing onto Racheal's hand as she trips up a little bit. Just in time, too, seeing's how the walkers are nearly upon us. Thank goodness they're so stupid.

"Marcus…" I say lowly, not bothering to hide my anxiety as the dead start to make their way up the stairs. "Get the window open – preferably right now!"

"Almost… got it!" he exclaims, finally managing to open the window as the metal screeches loudly. Poking his head out, the man gulps as he looks downwards. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me, Lilly…"

"You won't break your legs, don't worry! Just go!" I usher, trying (and failing miserably) to erase any doubts in the survivors as Racheal bashes a walker straight over the railing; watching briefly as it lands with a splat on the ground below.

With him being so hesitant, for reasons that I'm faintly aware of, I roll my eyes and push his back forwards. Yelling in fright, Marcus falls right towards the dumpster as he drops straight through the plastic lid and groans as he hits the garbage bags inside. Those have likely been sitting inside of that bin for years.

"Blech! There are fucking raccoons in here!" he squeals, moving over slightly as I pick up the bag he had dropped and hop out the window myself.

Racheal, thankfully not trying to take them all on by herself, jumps last; making her descent as she nearly hits the side of the dumpster.

"See?" I remark, tossing the bag onto the pavement and climbing out. "Told you it wouldn't be a problem. But, uhh… you guys might wanna move…"

Confused, the two of them look back up to the window only to see that the walkers are trying to follow in our footsteps. The first one practically does a belly flop as it smashes its face on the side of the dumpster, killing it instantly as two more start to come after us.

"Run! Go, go, go!" Racheal hurries along, with neither of us attempting to argue as we race away from the main library and try to trace our steps back to the space centre.

This better not have been all for nothing – these guns nearly cost three lives today.

Clem's POV

"…so you see it too, then? These bolts are coming loose on the garage door. If we can't get it to close properly, then we might be in some serious trouble," one of the new guys, Trevor, tells me as I go to inspect the damage for myself. This is what we get for neglecting the repairs around here for so long. Tommy used to be all on this kind of thing, but we haven't had a proper mechanic around here for a very long time up until now.

At least he had pointed it out to me this morning – I think the people will feel a lot safer around here knowing that our defenses are more intact. It'll let them rest a little bit easier at night, for sure.

Getting some grease on my finger as I trace across the broken and dented garage, I nod my head as I write the parts down that he tells me. Looks like it's another trip out to that hardware store… The place may have been totally inhabitable, but at least we can make some visits to it occasionally. If we keep up what we've been doing around here however, what with breaking down our machines and having to replace parts all the time, then sooner or later we're going to run out. And then what'll happen?

If only there was a way that we could make this shit ourselves.

"I'll get Emily on it when I see her this afternoon. Thanks for bringing this up," I tell him, watching him grin wearily as I place my pen back into my coat pocket. "Was there anything else? Or do you have things under control down here?"

Thinking it over for a moment, Trevor shakes his head as he pops open his toolbox to do whatever other repairs there are to keep him occupied. "I think that's the only major issue for now, ma'am. Thanks," he says in appreciation; heading back to his work as I make a hasty exit. I've got about a million and a half things to do today, including checking to make sure that our pantry is decently stocked, inspecting the outer walls for walkers, along with looking to see how our gun room is –

Damn… Lilly and them should be back by now. What could be the holdup?

Deciding to put my worries at the back of my mind, knowing just how capable those three can be, I wave hello to some of our more elderly community members as I hear them whisper about me, thinking that I'm too busy to listen.

"There she goes again – off to try and solve everyone's problems. Don't you think she should slow down a little? She's too young to wear herself out so much."

"I'd say so, yes. One of these days, she's going to work herself into the ground. Mark my words."

Frowning a little at that, I try not to let that message sink into my skin as I pull out my keys and unlock the door to our training room; cutting across as I briefly wave to Kazuki. They don't really think I'm overexerting myself, do they? I mean, sure, I may have to go around the base all the time to make sure that things are in proper working order, but that's just a part of the position. Somebody's gotta do it, and it's not as if James and Bo are around anymore to help me do it.

Not that Bo would likely want to even if he could… That whole conversation back then really changed our stance with one another, and I can't help but admit that it's been pretty devastating.

As it turns out, however, St. Mary's hospital actually was a lot more useful than any of us had figured it would be. So… good for him, I suppose. It's still a little hard to believe that James can actually give him some treatment for the lung cancer.

"Clem, they came back just a little while ago. Lilly's waiting for you upstairs," Kaz mentions, doing a few sets of push ups as I nod in confirmation.

Rubbing my eyes in utter exhaustion, I groggily cross the gym and head for the staircase to the main floor. I can already feel a migraine coming on in force…

Dropping the bag in front of me, Lilly waits for me to unzip it as I examine the contents inside. Machine guns… perfect. These bad boys were worth the risk, I'm sure of it. Definitely worth going back for – who would be able to touch us with some of these?

Also seeing a couple of shotguns and a handful of combat pistols, I nod in acceptance as I check the merchandise off on my checklist. Just another thing finished for today.

"Try not to lose them again, hmm?" I remark pointedly to Marcus, smirking and rolling my eyes as he pats me lightly on the back. "Alright, you clowns – dinner's waiting in the mess hall. Go on ahead, Emily's cooked up some oatmeal."

"Ugh… I'd rather eat dog food…" Marcus whines, winking at Racheal as she just walks ahead by herself; keeping her head down and her hands in her pockets. Shrugging his shoulders, Marcus heads off as I zip the bag back up and attempt to carry it by myself.

Struggling to barely lift the damn thing off the ground, let alone toss it over my shoulder, Lilly grabs onto one of the straps as I clutch onto the other. Reluctantly, seeing as how I prefer to be more independent than this, I allow her to help as we walk towards the armory in a comfortable silence.

Lilly had changed a lot since the separation, I've got to say. I've noticed her sometimes reverting back to her old ways of tearing off by herself, but at the same time, she and I have actually gotten a lot closer to each other; possibly even on the same level that Jane and I were once on. I've been able to openly talk to her all about my schizophrenia (and yes, I can finally pronounce that word) along with all of the voices that I keep hearing in my head, and she's actually been great to just sit back and listen to what I have to say. Lilly actually gives out pretty decent advice, too – she's tried introducing me to these brand new breathing exercises that she used to go through, and I've gotta say that they've been working wonders. My stress levels have gone down immensely.

But this closeness with Lilly… it all happened a little suddenly. It was almost as if after she split with Jane, she kind of replaced her with me – someone else to care about, I mean. Maybe I was the crutch that held her upright after that time, because for a while the two women could hardly stand to be in the same room as each other. But whatever the case may have been, those invisible walls that were held in place between Lilly and I before had been practically broken down.

What was really odd, however, was how much she wanted to find out about me at the time. Lilly kept on bringing up Zayne and how much some of the other members missed him, and naturally, I had just frowned and nodded; not revealing anything about that night. I was starting to suspect that Lilly was onto something, but after a while those talks just… stopped. As if they had never happened at all, in fact. It was as if Lilly had just adopted an entirely different personality.

I've got to say, though – I think I like this new Lilly a lot more than the cold one.

"Run into any problems out there?" I ask her, watching as she gives me a knowing look as I sigh. "Shit… I thought that area was clear…"

"They must've come in from the north somewhere, or the outskirts of the city. There weren't any walkers over there before," she confirms, lifting her end of the bag up a little bit as I try to keep up with her pace. "Well, we got out, didn't we? It's all about strategy, Clem – we know how to deal with walkers."

"Better just to stay out of their way and evade them," I agree, having gone over different tactics with the Fireflies dozens of times now. We had set up different scenarios for them to go through downstairs, mainly on how to hide, how to go through herds without even firing a bullet, and most importantly – how to take them down if you need to. Trying to kill every single walker around is almost pointless. We're far outnumbered by them, and attracting too much attention to yourself isn't going to win you any favours.

Hell, we even ended up creating a book on the subject for people to read if they wanted to – The Firefly Guide to Survival. It was actually pretty fun to do, especially since I got to draw some of the pictures inside. Usually they were just crummy, little sketches, but now I can proudly say that I've been a part of writing a novel. Not too shabby of a thing to add to the resume, huh?

"You seem a little overwhelmed," Lilly mentions as I groan in annoyance. "Clementine, I'm serious. You don't have to do all of this shit by yourself – lighten the load a little bit. Let me cover some of your routes tomorrow, and take a day off to relax."

"Hmph… why don't you just ask Jane to tag along while you're at it?" I remark icily, knowing that that's a little mean of me to say, but I'm getting pissed at how many people lately have been questioning whether or not I can handle this myself. I haven't crapped out yet now, have I?

No, and I don't need anyone to pity me over this kind of thing. I can handle this kind of thing on my own – Lilly already does enough around here as it is. Being one of our guards up on the roof, along with scouting duties and weapon counting, she's got a lot on her plate herself.

"Clem…"

"I get it," I brush off, placing the bag down carefully as we start to line up the guns along the wall in order from smallest to biggest. "But… I can handle this myself, okay? The last thing that I want is for you to get dragged into doing my responsibilities, too. Trust me, if I need your help, I'll ask. But please… just let me try?"

Shaking her head slightly and chuckling in disbelief, Lilly stares at me for a while as I finish lining up the guns. "Sometimes I look at you and still can't believe you're real," she compliments, making me laugh slightly as we head back out of the room. "Alright, kiddo, you win this round. Just remember my offer, alright?"

Giving her a salute, I smile before watching her walk a little bit ahead of me; taking one last look in the armory and shutting the door. This community… these Fireflies… we're gonna make it. This time, our group won't fall to pieces.

I'm going to make certain of that.

Ellie's POV

I've been doing the same thing for the past hour or so now – flipping open my switchblade and then closing it back shut, all with the flick of a wrist. It's gotten pretty easy for me to do, considering how much practice I've had now with the weapon. If I wanted to, I could shank any one of these guys with them not even realizing what happened. No daylight, no noise, no screams.

But would I ever do that kind of thing? No, not likely, as much as I'd probably enjoy doing it to one of these obnoxious kids who keep sprinting back and forth down the hallway. Racing past me and giggling the entire time, I find it incredibly hard to believe that anybody can be so carefree like this anymore.

I mean, why don't they take a look around? The world is unfair! It's total bullshit, and it's taken way too much from me when I haven't even offered it that much in return. So why are they so fucking happy?

Feeling irritated by their relaxed nature, I can't help but feel a little envious of these kids – their parents are still alive, and they're actually acting as though life is completely normal.

For fuck sakes, wake up already!

"You're it!" one of the kids shriek, tapping me on the arm as I continue to sit on the bench. "Umm… do you not know how to play tag? We can teach you, if you want."

"Take a hike, I'm busy…"

"But we just wanna – "

"I don't care what you want! Go play your stupid fucking game somewhere else and quit dicking around all the time!" I blow up, feeling unusually bitter today considering that I'm usually a lot more cheerful than this. "One of these days you're gonna end up playing tag with a motherfucking walker and you're gonna get your head ripped open!"

"Wh-what?!" the kid scrambles his words around. Great, I'm making him cry… "You… you can't talk to us like that! I'm telling my Mom!"

"Then you might want to get her to show you how stupid you're being while you're at it…" I grumble, taking a long walk down the hallway as I blow a few strands of red hair out of my face.

There, that ought to teach them… even if I feel like shit for doing it.

Briskly walking past Clementine's open office, not paying it any mind at all and just wanting to be alone for a while, I groan as she verbally stops me before I can get anywhere.

"Ellie…" Clem remarks, not even taking her gaze off of some files that she's looking over. "Why are you picking on kids out there? That's not like you – usually I can't tear you away from wanting to play with the rest of them."

Feigning innocence, I shrug my shoulders as I linger outside of her door.

"Well, maybe I'm not like them, Clementine," I sarcastically retort, putting emphasis on her name as she sighs and tells me to come sit in her office. With her pointing to the chair in front of her desk, and knowing fully well that my ass is grass if I try to blow her off like a stranger, I fold my arms and step into the office.

Pushing the folder to the side for a moment, Clementine folds her hands together as she offers me a sad smile. "Come on, El," she says sweetly, only using that tone when it's her and I talking. "What's this about?"

I hate when our conversations start off like this, because it always ends up with me looking like a blubbering idiot who spills their guts while Clementine always stays like a closed book. But you know what? I'm not gonna do that this time.

Nope, I'm going to be totally cool and collected. No inner thoughts coming out this time, no sir.

"…they don't know how good they have it…" I reveal, lasting for about five seconds of silence before already breaking my vow. So much for not spilling your guts, Ellie! "They've never had to go outside this place! Those dumbasses haven't had to shoot walkers, or try to live on their own, or try to scavenge for food… What's gonna happen if this place suddenly falls and they have to go out into the world on their own? They'll all be screwed!"

Looking a little down that I would even suggest the possibility of the space centre getting lost after all this time of building it back up into a home, Clementine crosses her legs as she lightly twirls a pen back and forth on the desk. "So… that's why you're angry? Because they're not ready?" she asks, trying to understand my thought process as I slowly shake my head.

"It's not just that… it's… god, I don't know! Seeing them so happy just… I don't understand it! How can they be so happy when I'm so miserable?!"

"Ellie… maybe you just need to learn to enjoy yourself. There's no reason why you can't have a little fun around here."

"You don't understand!" I exclaim, standing up and pacing back and forth before looming over her and placing my hands on her desk. "They've got so much more to be fucking thankful for! I mean, they still have people who care about them! They still have parents, Clementine! Do you have any idea what it's like to… to lose…"

Giving me a blank expression as she sits calmly in the chair, Clementine waits for my breathing to settle as I truly take in what I've just said. I'm so fucking stupid… of course she'd know about losing your parents. We were nearly at the same age when it happened to the both of us, although she had known hers for a little while longer. Still though, the effects were similar, and I can't help but feel like an ass as she stands up and walks around the desk.

"Clementine…"

"Shh… it's okay, it's okay," she whispers lovingly, coming over to me as I lean up against her and cry against her chest. I need this – I need this so, so badly…

This is one of the few (if not the only) people who can actually make me feel safe and loved, and I don't want to lose her. What would I do then? Go over to Jane and Lilly for support? Sure, I really like them, too, but… it just wouldn't be the same. No, this is the one that I need – Clementine is the only family that I've got left.

I didn't understand that before, but now more than ever, I think I've finally started to figure it out. I need Clementine just as much as she needs me. We're a team, and teams look out for one another.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can't help but notice my rolled-up sleeve; showing the mark of my bite as I sob harder against her. Why did this have to happen to me?

And more importantly, what does it mean?