A/N: I just bought the definitive collection of the Walking Dead games and got to replay season 1 for the first time in years. I still think Ben is one of the most tragic characters in the series, and the writers really did him dirty. He deserved better. So yeah, this idea popped in my head. I'd also like to clarify that the apocalypse started in the summer of 2003, and season 1 ends on November 1st, 2003, six days after Clem's ninth birthday. So this story begins in November of 2003. I hope you all enjoy!
Ben wandered the vast expanse of rural Georgia in a haze, lost in a fog of confusion, of depression. Each day passed without variation.
He had been separated from the group he was with, after that balcony had collapsed, just narrowly escaping the horde of walkers that overwhelmed Savannah. Even though Kenny hated his guts, he still came down to help him. Ben had only sustained minor injuries, but the noise had attracted the walkers, and they were surrounded in seconds. Kenny held them off while Ben escaped through a nearby sewer. He knew the system well, thanks to Vernon, but he barely made it out alive - he didn't know what happened to Kenny or the others.
Despite his hard exterior, Kenny was really a good man - Ben knew all too well what it was like to lose, and when Kenny came to realize that Ben was just a terrified teenager who had lost just as much as he had, all animosity was set aside.
Despite this, he still couldn't shake off the immense guilt that weighed him down every day.
With that group, Ben thought he actually stood a chance in this hellish world.
But he royally fucked up.
People died because of him. The whole group fell apart because of him. He had one last chance to redeem himself, and that was in saving Clementine, and he couldn't even do that. He let Lee, the man in the group he respected the most, down. The man who risked his life to save him in Crawford when all Ben wanted was for it all to end. And now he was dead or a walker or who knows, and Clementine was probably out there somewhere, just as lost as Ben was.
He was alone - starving, dehydrated, sleep deprived, and had no weapons, no means of defending himself. He just kept walking, doomed to live out such a ragged existence until he finally collapsed in on himself and succumbed to the pleasant numbness of death. As he wandered, he couldn't help but think, "What the fuck have I become? Is this it? This is how I'm gonna die, and I deserve every bit of it."
His family, his friends, everyone he ever knew was gone. He had lost everything that had been so futilely important to him, leaving him to be indescribably lonely and empty.
Ben kept wandering until his legs finally gave out and he collapsed to the ground. He was willing to accept this fate. Images of his parents and sister he never got to say goodbye to, of Lee, Clementine, Kenny, Katjaa, Duck, Travis, Mr. Parker... everything and everyone he ever knew briefly danced before his eyes as he found peace in a restless blackness, the autumn wind gently blowing the tall grass all around him being the last thing he heard.
~~
"Hey."
Ben faintly heard a voice call out to him as he felt himself being nudged awake.
"You alive?"
With some difficulty, he managed to open his eyes. "H-huh?" he managed out as his eyes focused on the blurry image of a human being standing over him.
"Oh, shit!" the voice shouted. From what he could hear, it was a young woman's voice. "Mom! Dad!He's alive!"
Ben didn't remember what happened after that. He began to lose consciousness once again as he felt himself being lifted off the ground, and he had no strength to resist. He muttered something incoherent before everything faded out again.
~~
The next thing Ben knew, he was waking up in a dimly lit tent. He awoke with a start, sitting up abruptly, looking down to find that he had been laying on top of a sleeping bag, a blanket draped over him. All was silent apart from his heavy breathing. He rubbed his eyes in an attempt to clear his blurred vision. He glanced around and took in his surroundings - nothing but another sleeping bag next to him and a lantern in the corner, along with some first aid supplies.
How long have I been here?
He closed his eyes trying to remember what exactly had happened. Then it all hit him with a bang. The memory of it all began to occupy his thoughts.
He was about to die in the middle of nowhere when some people found him and brought them back to their camp. He had been mumbling like a madman, begging for water. He didn't remember much after that.
Out of impulse, his hand traveled to his leg. There had been a huge gash on his leg from the fall from that balcony - he was pretty sure it had gotten infected. He found that his injured leg was patched up, the swelling had gone down. He still didn't know who these people were, where he was, or how long he'd been there, and he had no means of defending himself on top of it.
Ben's thoughts were interrupted when a lovely young lady entered the tent. She stared at him with wide, mesmerizing green eyes that seemed to glow in the dim light of the tent, her sand colored hair coiled up in a tight bun, freckles dotting along her nose and cheeks. This girl had to have been around his age.
"Mom!" the girl called out as she scurried out of the tent. "He's awake!"
She soon reemerged with an older woman at her side. The older woman was holding a steaming bowl in her hands. "Thank the Lord," she sighed with relief. "We were sure you were a goner."
The woman handed Ben the bowl, which he hesitantly accepted. "Here, hon, have something to eat," she said. "But eat it slowly. At this stage of starvation, we have to gradually get your body to know how to handle food again. Too much at once will kill you."
"She was a nurse before all this started," the young girl said. "She knows what she's talking about."
"Uh...thanks," Ben said, doing what he was told and slowly sipping at the brothy soup he was given. "Who are you?"
"We're survivors, just like you," the older woman said. "Don't worry, we ain't gonna hurt ya."
"Uh...g-good to know, I guess."
"We found you barely conscious when we were out hunting," the older woman continued. "Thought you were one of the creepers at first."
"Creepers?" Ben questioned.
"Yeah, creepers," the young girl said. "What do you call 'em?"
"Walkers."
"Anyway, you were delirious when we brought you back here," the woman said. "Could hardly understand a word you were saying."
"Your leg was fucked up, too," the teenage girl added. "But Mom patched you up real good, gave you antibiotics."
Ben stared down into his soup. "Thanks, but, uh, why did you help me?"
"Well, nobody with a good conscience would just leave a man to die." The older woman seemed a bit shocked by his question.
The teenager observed him for a moment. "I take it your name is Ben? I mean, unless you stole that jacket."
"Uh, yeah," Ben replied. I'm Ben. Ben Paul."
The girl smiled at him. "Well, I'm Amelia. Amelia Campbell." She then gestured to the woman next to her. "And this is my mom."
"My name is Marie," her mother said. "Try to get some rest, we can talk more in the morning."
"O-okay." Ben was still avoiding eye contact.
"And Ben?"
He finally looked at Marie properly. The woman stooped down and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Relax. If we were going to harm you, we would've done so already."
"Yeah, man," Amelia said. "You're in good hands."
"Do you need anything?" Marie asked him.
"Some more water would be good," Ben replied. "Th-thanks."
"My pleasure." Marie stood and exited the tent.
"Welcome to our little group, man," Amelia said, looking back at him with one last reassuring smile before following her mother outside.
Ben laid back down on his sleeping bag and sighed. For the first time in a long time, he felt that he was actually going to be okay.
But still, there was that nagging feeling in the back of his head that these people would eventually see him as a burden, too, and leave him behind.
I better not screw this up.