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littlesugarwords · 4 years

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Walking Dead Game FanFiction - “Joyous Pride”

Title: Joyous Pride Characters: Clementine, Lee, Violet Summary: In an AU, Lee sees Clementine come home from school one day in a blinding joy. When asked what happened, Clementine confesses to dating her classmate Violet. Author's Note: here’s a cute little one for you guys :) Requested By: Anonymous support me with ko-fi ♡ ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

It had been a year since Clementine had entered Lee’s life. It felt sudden, and almost irrational at the time, but to date, adopting Clementine was the best life decision he’d ever made.

Being in foster care had been a nightmare for Clem. After losing her parents in a car crash while they were on vacation, Clementine — like many children moving through tragedy — struggled with adjusting to her new life. It was made all the more difficult thanks to how different she was from the other kids in foster care.

But, when Lee came across Clem outside her home one day, crying after foster kids had routinely tugged at and upset her hair, he felt his heart ache for the child as he assisted her. As days turned into weeks, and as his visits to check on the young girl became more and more frequent, he took her under his wing and signed the adoption papers.

Then, with time, they became inseparable.

Lee cleaned up his small spare room for her, assuring her that she could decorate it however she wanted. He bought her art supplies to keep her busy, and would gently brush through her hair after washing it, treating it as he knew how.

It was the one moment he was thankful to have grown up with several sisters.

“How does it look?” Lee asked, holding a mirror out to her.

Her eyes lit up like stars. “It looks amazing.” She whispered. It hadn’t looked that soft and full in years. Then, Lee knew he had done something right. Something special. He knew she was something special.

He would sweetly make and package her lunches, popping them into paper bags and sweetly walking her — hand-in-hand — to the bus stop.

“Have a good day at school, sweet pea.”

And every day, Clem would smile and say the same thing: “I will.”

In a year's time, growing more into their family role, Clem would plant a single kiss to Lee’s cheek each morning, and Lee would plant one on her forehead. Their conversations never wavered, and her classmates — aware of her situation — never judged. Like her, they found it sweet.

Lee and Clementine were a family to be reckoned with, and had a bond like no-other.

Maybe that was why, when Clementine skittered through the front door of their apartment one day after school, Lee knew that when he asked what happened, she’d tell him.

He smiled, turning from where he was washing dishes, waiting for water to boil on the stove, to study her. “What’s up with you?”

“I had a great day today!” She beamed, tossing her backpack onto the floor and scurrying to her father’s side.

He smiled, passively drying his hands on a nearby dish towel, so he could properly focus on her. “Oh yeah?” He chuckled softly, briefly checking on his boiling water. “What happened today?”

“Something big.”

“And what's that?” Lee asked, his attention fluttering back to her. Without looking, he swiped another dirty dish off the top of the pile, ready to dunk it into the warm, soapy sink.

“I’m dating someone!”

Lee fumbled, dropping the plate in the water. Clem flinched at the sound. “Dating?” He asked, scrambling to try to play off his shock as though it was a simple slip rather than a shocked fumble.

Clementine studied him, confused as to his reaction, but shrugged it off and continued on. “Yes! It just started today.” She beamed, cheeks rosy and bright. Despite his shock, Lee couldn’t help but feel his heart warm up at the sight of the giddy girl. Her happiness gave him a spike of joy he couldn’t get anywhere else.

“Ah,” Lee said, absentmindedly dunking his hands into the sink, but not focusing on it. Instead, his attention was stuck on the girl in front of him. “So, it’s brand brand new.” Lee couldn't help but be on edge; feeling tense rather than excited. He didn’t want his little girl getting hurt. He didn’t know what he’d do if someone hurt her.

Well, he did know what he wanted to do. He just didn’t wanna beat up a kid.

Clementine smiled, nodding. “It was really sweet. She brought me a little flower after school today and asked me, and I said yes! Duh,” Clem giggled, pulling the tiny daisy out of her back pocket, twirling it between her fingers.

Lee paused, set down the soapy glass he was fiddling with, then snagged the drying towel off the counter. “She?” He finally asked.

Clem nodded. “Her name is Violet.”

Lee hesitated, then sighed, leaning into the counter. His eyes closed, his shoulders released, and his body eased. “Thank God.”

Clementine blinked, confused. She hadn’t been expecting this to be his reaction. What a strange roller coaster of emotions. “What?”

Lee took a breath, pushing himself upright. “You’re too young to understand.”

Clementine glared, arms crossed and glare growing. “What does that mean?”

Lee shook his head, focused on vigorously scrubbing the plate in-progress. “It means I’d feel bad telling you what that means.”

Clementine raised a brow, staring him down, as though hoping her ‘menacing stare’ would result in a confession.

Finally, Lee sighed. He held out his hands, as though he was sheepish to make the ‘obvious’ statement. “Men are pigs.”

After a brief, confused pause, she burst into a fit of giggles, her hands cupping her red cheeks, the daisy brushing against her ears and hair. “That's why I chose Violet.”

Lee smiled, turning to her with a soft smile. It complimented her mood perfectly. “I’m happy to hear that, sweet pea.” He leaned forward, tucking the flower behind one of her ears. “I can’t wait to meet her one day.”

Clementine’s eyes lit up, hands clasped together, her entire body emitting energy and light. “I can’t wait for that too.”

Lee chuckled to himself, finally turning back to the stove to work on dinner. “Go wash up for dinner, sweet pea. We can talk more then.”

Then, without a word of debate, Clem grabbed her backpack and darted for her room. Her excited little breaths and frantic footsteps bounced off the wall, giving their home the life it lacked for so many lonely years.

She was growing up so fast and, as Lee tossed pasta into the now-boiling water, he realized just how much had changed in the year he’d been able to call the little girl his. While she maybe wasn’t his little girl anymore, but she would always be his girl. That would never change.

The only thing that would change is that Violet could become one of his girls too. ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

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littlesugarwords · 4 years

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Walking Dead Game FanFiction - “Wrong Shot”

Title: Wrong Shot Characters: Clementine, Marlon, AJ Summary: AJ shoots Clem mistakenly believing she’s an intruder when she enters Ericson’s gates one night thinking she’s an intruder. Author's Note: Hi I had a dream about this and needed to write this shit before I forget omg omg so enjoy this little blurb support me with ko-fi ♡ ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

Clementine felt as though she had taught AJ well in terms of defending himself and his loved ones. She felt as though she’d well-equipped him to tell right from wrong, and she hoped that other members of Ericson were teaching him the same.

That was, except for Marlon.

“I’m concerned about what you’re teaching him about shooting.”

Marlon scoffed, setting down his clipboard and turning to the girl with crossed arms. “What do you mean? I’m not teaching him anything wrong.”

“You’re right, you’re teaching him something that’s risky. I think we should correct it.”

Marlon furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”

Marlon paused, considering it, then waved his hand. “We’re perfectly safe here. If any threat were to emerge, it would make sense to shoot first and think later.” He shrugged. “I think it should be fine.”

“But Marlon--”

Marlon held up a hand, ending the conversation. “I teach everyone at Ericson the same thing; the safety of each other is the priority. If that means we shoot before we ask questions, that’s what it takes.”

Clementine stood silent, anxiously studying him, arms falling to her sides in silence. Then, Marlon turned and started away, ending their conversation indefinitely.

And Clementine hated it.

She hated it even more when an actual emergency fell into their lap.

One night, as Clementine was taking her rounds around the school on watch duty, Marlon scrambled out of the school and darted for her. “Clem!” He called, voice tense and frantic. It made Clementine’s heart clench, and stop all together when he followed it with: “Our barriers are down!”

“What?”

“Our defences. Outside the front gate.”

Clementine felt her stomach twist. “You’re kidding.”

Marlon shook his head, the nervous panting heightening seeing Clem’s shared worry. With their defences down, especially at night, it meant anything — or anyone — could approach the gate and gain access to their camp.

That was their worst fear.

“We need to get out there.” Clementine said, immediately adjusting the axe strapped to her back, hoofing it toward the front of the building.

“I’ll blow out all the lights.” Marlon said, branching off momentarily. If there was going to be no security, they needed to make the building seem as hidden as possible. The moment the place was thrust into darkness, hidden from their world, isolated from any perceived danger, they were off.

“Got your bow?”

“You know it.”

“Good.”

They moved quickly and quietly, Clementine trotting up behind Marlon as he led the way. As they reached their traps, they reset them as urgently as possible. They worked side-by-side, watching over each other’s backs, breath held, tensions high.

“How many did you get?” Marlon whispered.

“5. You?”

“7.”

“Perfect.”

Then, their breaths wavering and nervous, they started back for Ericson.

Through the practically non-existent light, Clementine could feel something brush at her hand. Then, just before she flinched away in panic, it laced its fingers with her own and squeezed.

“Stay close,” Marlon’s voice said lowly, warm his breath brushing against her ear. Clementine stiffened but nodded, knowing he couldn’t see it regardless.

The moment they got back to the school, they both knew what they needed to do; turn on all the lights, fill in anyone that was awake, and resume business as normal. They didn’t want to generate any panic. Everything had been handled. Now, everyone was safe once more.

As they neared the gate, Marlon pulled out his key, detaching his hand from Clementine’s. Only then did she realize how much she liked the sensation; the feeling of silent intimacy between her and someone she trusted. It was then, watching him rustle with the gate for her, did she feel the most cared for than she’d felt in a long, long time.

Inside, students could hear the rustling. Glancing out their windows, they were horrified by the state of the darkness; confused and paranoid. Too anxious to leave their rooms, none of them budged; just whispered silent questions and prayers to one another.

But not AJ. AJ was the only one who had taken action.

He started outside, anxiously holding onto his gun, shyly moving closer to the gate. The world was dark. He couldn’t see a single thing. All he knew was that Clementine was gone, someone had purposely extinguished all the lot’s candles, and someone — or something — was rattling at Ericson’s front gates.

He couldn’t see what it was — their entire world was thrust into momentary darkness — all he knew was to raise his gun and aim, as best as he could, into the void.

Then, he heard a click. He heard the gate open, not a word exchanged between whoever was entering. There was no Clementine, no Louis, no anyone. So, he did the only thing he knew how.

He aimed, then shot. The sound of the gunshot rang through the air, slicing through the dead-silent forest’s midnight.

Then, a sharp inhale, and a gurgle.

“No.” Was all Marlon could muster, horrified in the midst of his confusion. Scrambling, he desperately lit one of the nearby torches, illuminating the scene.

Clementine was frozen, glancing down, a growing pool of blood emerging in the gunshot wound sliced through her stomach. She coughed, sputtered, then began to waver on her feet.

Desperately, Marlon reached forward, capturing the girl in his arms before she had a chance to collapse entirely. “No no no no no--” He guided her to the ground, wrapping her tightly in his arms. A hand reached up to her face, brushing at her pale, shocked cheek. “Clem? Clem, please hang in there.”

Hearing the noise, other Ericson kids funnelled out of the front door, sensing the panic from afar. Spotting the scene, they wailed and cried, stumbling down the front steps and darting across the grass, desperately running for the injured.

“Clementine!”

“Oh my God!”

“Clem,” Marlon whispered, eyes teary and glossing over. “Clem please, please Don’t leave me.”

AJ glanced over the scene, his stomach twisting and pulling, threatening to up heave. So, the midst of everyone’s grief, he turned away and sobbed into the grass.

He had done this. Inadvertently, he killed the only person who had stood by his side through everything.

For him, for all of Ericson, this was the end. ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

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littlesugarwords · 4 years

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Walking Dead Game FanFiction - “Deep Fault”

Title: Deep Fault Characters: Clementine, Omid, Christa Summary: Despite their efforts, eleven-year-old Clementine still believes the deaths of Ben, Kenny and Lee are caused by her, and Omid and Christa can clearly tell. After brushing off that she’s "fine" for months, the couple finally witness her break and are exposed to the physical harm she’s inflicted upon herself, and they are then left to comfort the child who has lost everything. Author's Note: tw; self harm, blood Requested By: Anonymous support me with ko-fi ♡ ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

“I’m fine.”

The two of them hated that phrase.

“Clementine,” Omid said, reaching out to the child. She was looking away, arms crossed, tense and hostile given their questions. “We know that something’s wrong, and if that’s the case, it’s you.”

He settled a hand on the child’s shoulder, but the moment it made contact, she flinched away. “I’m fine. I’m telling the truth.” Then, bristling at the sight of Christa’s worried gaze, she started for her make-shift ‘room’.

The trio had taken refuge in an abandoned highway gas station/restaurant pit stop. It wasn’t in the best shape — which was to be expected — but had walls, doors, and some food. It was more than they could’ve asked for, so they seized the opportunity and claimed it as their own.

But the longer they stayed, the longer they felt as though something was up with Clementine. Something worse than they initially thought.

It started with her eating less. Then, it turned into sleeping less; roaming the lot at odd hours of the night and asking for more supervising shifts. It developed into her taking more risks — unnecessary ones that resulted in more harm than gain — and communicating less. Way less.

That night was a prime example.

Omid turned to Christa, eyes weak and defeated. He lifted his arms and slapped them back to his sides, frustrated. “I don’t know what else to do.”

Christa sighed through her nose, arms crossed and resting atop her swollen belly. Feeling her feet grow tired, she set a hand on his shoulder and guided him toward their kitchen. “There isn't anything more we can do.”

Omid scoffed, as though offended, and stood in front of her as she eased herself into her seat. “So, what, we just do nothing?”

“We can’t do anything if she doesn’t let us.” Christa offered back, somewhat irritated by his forcefulness. “We can’t force her to talk.”

“So, we just give up?”

“No.” Christa said, brows furrowed and frustrated. “We ease off.”

Omid studied the woman, noting the bags under her eyes and the way she stuck her swollen feet out in front of her. She was tired, and sore, and her body was ready to give out thanks to the additional weight of their child.

She was exhausted — her body language practically screamed it — and Omid could do nothing for her either.

Feeling frustrated with himself, he turned and marched to the front of the store, glancing out one of their half-boarded windows, studying the barren highway.

How was he supposed to be a father to his biological child if he could barely father a child that had been under his care for what felt like years? If he couldn’t ask her the simplest of questions — how she was doing — and get an answer, how was he to be a good father? A good husband? A good anything?

He was sucking at everything, and needed to change it before it was too late.

He stared for the back of the lot. It was where their rooms were with a separate closed off space just for Clementine; allowing her some privacy. But today, right now, the last thing she needed was privacy. She needed support, someone to talk to, something. She needed more than what they were currently offering.

Omid knocked on the wall beside the flap of fabric that acted as her door. Then, without hesitation, he peeled it back. “Clementine, I really just--”

He froze.

She froze, mid stroke, a blade pressed to her wrist. Terrifyingly slow, she removed it and fumbled with it as it fell to the floor.

Omid stood, jaw agape, colour immediately draining from his face. “Clem.”

“I can explain,” her voice wavered as she stood, her opposing arm extended to him, pleading for him to not stir chaos and draw Christa closer.

Given his sudden stiffness, and the way he pulled the sheet closed behind him — despite it not making a difference — she assumed he agreed. Christa needed to stay out of it, for her sake and Clementine’s. “Clem, what are you doing,” he said as a statement rather than a question, hands panicked and extended before him.

She stood idle, eyes wide with panicked tears gathering on their rims. “Please don’t be mad.” She pleaded, a single tear spilling over and trailing down her face. She brushed it away. “Please, please.”

Omid frowned, feeling his heart clench and freeze. She was terrified. She wasn’t being rebellious, she wasn’t trying to scare him, she was hurting. She was bleeding.

Right before his eyes, he was losing her. He couldn’t be angry at her. That wasn’t going to get him anywhere. If anything, it was only going to make her disappear faster. “Clem,” he started gently, watching as her gaze snapped to the floor, too scared to meet his. “What’s hurting you so bad?”

Clementine turned around, eyeing the damaged drawings scattering her walls.

“Clementine.” Omid pushed, wanting an immediate answer.

“It’s them.” She finally said. Her voice sounded strained, as though it was wedging it’s way through withheld tears. She sniffled and jabbed her fingernails into her palm, hoping to stifle the emotional pain. “I miss them.”

Omid eyed the drawings scattering her walls; of Lee, of Kenny, Christa, and Duck, of Ben, all of them tear-stained, pinned up over and over again. He struggled to understand — to fully understand — and allowed his gaze to flitter back down to the back of her head. “You miss them?”

“Yeah,” she mumbled. She squeezed her arms nervously, too worried to turn around and face him head-on. “Because I caused them to die.”

Omid felt as though he’d been physically smacked by the words; so untrue, but spoken with such conviction he couldn’t help but stumble. “What?”

Clementine flinched, but didn’t turn around.

“Clem, that’s not true.”

“How do you know?” She said, finally turning, feeling as though she was starting to break through the tear-blockade. “You weren’t there when some of them died. You don’t know everything I did that got them killed.”

There was such anger; such pain and such determination. Omid felt as though his heart was wringing itself of any emotions, desperate to appeal to her. “Clem, it doesn’t matter what you did and didn’t do. You didn’t ask for them to be killed. You can’t blame that on yourself.”

“But I do.” Her voice cracked on the last word. Finally, she let her hands settle against her chest, feeling her heartbeat, feeling as though it didn’t deserve to be there. “And it’ll never stop hurting me.” Omid blinked back his own tears and, seeing that she had generated them, she turned around again. “See? I’m even making you upset just by being me.”

“I’m not upset, Clementine.” Omid offered, feeling his chest ache. How tragic that she couldn’t see compassion for what it was. How damaged was she that every time someone cried for her, she saw it as an act of violence rather than of care? “I care about you. I’m worried about you.”

Clementine didn’t budge, her stare still facing the back wall of drawings. Tears began to swell above and beyond their boundary, distorting her view.

“I want to be able to help you.” Omid furthered, taking a slow step closer.

Clementine closed her eyes, allowing tears to fall freely. She turned, her eyes still sealed, but to allow herself to hear him better.

“I’m not crying because you’ve hurt me,” he assured, a hand extended in pleading. Only at that phrase did Clementine open her eyes. “I’m crying because I love you.”

‘I love you.’

That was it. That’s what got her.

Suddenly, just as her emotions reached a boiling point, she bubbled over. Unable to control herself, she collapsed to the floor, a desperate wail rippling from her throat, her knees crashing into the ground. “I’m sorry!”

Omid instinctively flinched back before reaching out, praying he could catch the child before she crashed. He wasn’t so lucky. “Clem--”

“I’m trying! I swear!” She screamed. Her throat was so hoarse from crying, and her body so weak from her pain, that it came out strangled and muffled.

“We know, Clem, we know.” Omid assured, fumbling to pull the wailing child into his jittery arms. He couldn’t lose her. He needed to hold her. He needed to ensure she was safe, and held, and reassured as much as he could offer.

There was an urgent slapping of footsteps, resonating off the walls as nothing more than blurred background noise. Suddenly, Christa fumbled into the room, a hand clutched to her stomach, throwing the thin sheet to the side to see what was unfolding. All she could spot was Clementine on the ground, Omid frantically wrapping his arms around her. She saw blood on the floor, a used blade tossed to the side, and Omid’s frantic gaze settling on her.

Christa’s stomach curled, rolling into her throat, threatening to make her sick with worry. She had never seen Clementine in such a paralyzing, traumatized state, and she had never seen Omid so pale, so terrified, so desperate. He flickered his gaze toward one of her walls, hoping to provide Christa with a clue. Christa obeyed.

As her eyes landed, she spotted the drawings scattering her walls. Then, it all made sense, even though it made her feel even sicker to think of the trauma such a young child had faced.

She dropped everything, collapsing to her knees and wrapping the duo in her arms. “Clementine,” she whispered, already feeling tears clogging her throat. “Clem, it’s okay.” She breathed into the child’s hair, feeling as the sobs shook her body.

And she was okay. She was going to be. With the two of them at her side, even if nothing else was going to be, they were. ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

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littlesugarwords · 4 years

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Walking Dead Game FanFiction - “Missing More”

Title: Missing More Characters: Ericson Kids Summary: When Clementine and the Ericson crew drive to Clementine’s childhood home, they get to relive her last few moments with Lee again from a found video recording. Takes place after episode 1. Author's Note: Okay so the premise of this is going to be a little wonky to give this plot an opportunity to happen so let’s pretend that the Stranger wasn’t killed and continued to stalk Clementine after she left with Lee okay bye enjoy. Sequel to this fic Requested By: Anonymous support me with ko-fi ♡ ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

For years, every time her birthday rolled around, Clementine asked for the same thing: “Just once, I want to go back to my childhood home and get some closure.”

Little did she know that, since she first started making that wish, the crew had been working on exactly that.

In one of the back garages, Marlon had found a busted old van. It only had a sliver of gas in it, and was in rough shape, and the following years were spent scavenging for gas, and attempting to get the van working again.

As Clementine’s 19th birthday lingered on the horizon, they’d done it: Mitch had replaced the final busted part of the van, and the crew had managed to fill and find a total of 8 gasoline tanks.

“How many do you think we’d need for a road trip?” Violet had asked.

Marlon had only shrugged. “We might as well be safe and take all 8.” They had no idea how cars worked — hell, only a few of them even knew how to drive — but they were going to try their best regardless. For Clementine.

The first half of the drive was filled with excited chatter and blissful conversation. To keep watch over the school, Omar, Aasim, Brody, and Ruby decided to stay back at the school. Marlon, Louis, Violet, Clementine, AJ, Mitch, Willy, and Tenn were the group that hit up the van.

“We’ll be back in a few days.” Marlon said, already having worked out himself how long the drive would be. “Keep hold of the fort until then.”

Everyone nodded, hugging and wishing each other well, before venturing off.

Then, the fun began.

“Pass me the crackers.”

“You’ve already eaten like half the bag.”

Willy scoffed, snagging the bag out of Mitch’s hands and shoving another scoop into his mouth. “How long until we get there?”

Marlon adjusted the rear-view window, casting a harsh glare the child’s way. “Still a few more hours.”

“Ugh. We’ve been driving all day.”

“That’s why it’s called a roadtrip, Willy.” Louis said, smirking into the back. “We need to travel a distance to get there.”

“What Louis means,” Violet said through a sigh, “is shut up, Willy.” Her head leaned against the back of her seat, eyes closed, body tense.

Clementine, sitting in the passenger seat, smirked into the open, empty highway. It was familiar to her in the strangest way. She’s never driven the highway before today, but it felt warm somehow. Familiar. As though it was a shadow of the life that used to dwell there; along the sides of the road and off into the distance.

By the time they actually hit the city, the feeling of warm nostalgia took a dark, quick turn. The abandoned homes, eerie streets, and haunting a sense of life made Clementine’s skin crawl.

“Left here,” she whispered, voice haunted and scared. Still, despite the heartache she felt seeing her old hometown in ruin, she still knew her way home. Her parents had taught her to memorize the ‘important streets’ so she always knew how to get home if she ever became lost. If there was ever an emergency.

She gave direction the entire drive home, her code wavering and her hands forced into her lap, wound tightly together. She had braced herself for the worst — for her home being unrecognizable — but this somehow she hadn’t prepared for.

She hadn’t been prepared for the extent of how different everything would look.

By the time the car rolled to a stop, everyone bouncing with the weight of the breaks, Clementine was hesitant to lift her gaze from her lap.

“Clem? Is this the place?” Marlon asked. Realizing she didn’t have a choice, she gulped and looked up.

Her eyes immediately grew teary, studying the cracked windows and worn wooden panels. “Yep.” Was all she could muster, cracking her door open and stepping outside. The grass was dead, the building tattered and beaten by the elements, and the door was cracked and splintered. Apparently, someone had once jimmies a knife into the lock to get inside the house, clearly unaware that the back door had been left unlocked.

But, what brought Clementine the biggest moment of pause was the full mailbox.

She frowned, drawing closer to the door, running her fingers over the tattered and tarnished wood. Inside, she found a package, wrapped and labelled, her name scrawled on the front in messy black ink. Her heart leapt into her throat, freezing there.

“Clementine?” Louis asked. Clementine said nothing, only tore open the end of the package and slipped out a flash drive with a slip of paper taped to it. Louis, peeking in over the girl’s shoulder, held his breath. “Oh my God.”

Suddenly, all the Ericson kids turned, brows raised, drawing closer to the duo. The note was short, and simple, but haunting.

‘Something I think you’d like to see. - your friend’

Clementine closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then pushed open her front door. She slipped through her house, ignoring the overturned and tattered furniture, the haunting, dried pool of blood in the kitchen, and the dead body of her babysitter, abandoned by the back door.

She ignored it all and made her way toward the computer tucked into the back corner. All she could do was pray, that somehow, it still worked. She opened the laptop, her fingers crossed and strained, then hit the power button. Luckily for her, it came to life, thanks to being plugged in until the last moment electricity was active in the world.

By the time that nostalgic glow smacked her in the face, she realized the battery was at a dwindling 10%. Urgently, she slapped in her father’s password and jammed in the flash drive.

“What are you doing?” Marlon asked, arms crossed in horror. “You can’t just check to see what’s on it.”

“Why not?” Violet challenged. “Are you not curious about what’s on it?”

Clementine huffed, as though frustrated at how long it was taking the old laptop to register the flash drive. “I haven’t lived in this house in years, and yet, somehow, someone sent a package here addressed to me.” She turned, flashing Marlon a harsh glare. “I’m watching it.”

When she turned back to the screen, after silencing the room with her statement, she noticed there was only one file on the drive. It was fairly small, a single video file titled ‘the end’. With a deep breath, and with a shaking hand on the track pad, she moved towards it and clicked.

A security camera video popped to life, hauntingly similar. Clementine squinted, adjusting the brightness on the computer, aware it was going to drain the battery even further. Then, as two figures fumbled into the frame, Clementine’s breath caught in her throat. “No.” Was all she could muster.

It was her and Lee, entering the jewellery store, Lee’s lower arm missing, Clementine shaking and sobbing from spotting her dead parents roaming the streets.

“What’s going on?”

“Clem?”

Clementine stumbled away, ignoring Louis and Marlon’s panicked questions. She turned away, studying the corpse of her babysitter on the floor, decayed and unrecognizable.

It had been the Stranger. She knew it. She could feel her gut twisting at the mere thought.

After Lee had rushed her out of there after beating the man senseless, he’d come to and hadn’t stopped. He’d followed them to the jewellery store, watching as Clem was forced to kill Lee, and then stole a copy of the security tape, hoping and praying to prove to Clementine that... what? She had someone ‘watching out for her’?

“Clementine, what is this?” Violet asked, refusing to take her gaze off of the haunting image before her. AJ, creeping forward to get a better glimpse, felt his heart race at the sight of the child and older man.

“That’s me and Lee.” The room went dead-silent, as much also that everyone could hear a pin drop. “And I’m about to kill him.”

The group grew silent. Mitch, Louis, and AJ were the only ones who could look away, glancing nervously at the girl rather than studying the clip. Inevitably, all except Louis turned back to watch. Louis couldn’t stomach the sight.

There was muffled speaking — so quiet that the mics couldn’t quite pick it up — and shuffling around the room. The group watched as Clementine secured Lee to the radiator, as she lifted the gun to his head, as they made their teary goodbyes.

Then, the gun shot.

The room was silent and still, watching as the battery continued to drain from the small device before them. Clementine said nothing. She didn’t react, she didn’t flinch, she just stared dead-ahead at the bloody puddle in the kitchen, longing to be anywhere else but there.

Her eyes glossed over, feeling closer to Lee than she had felt in a long time in her home, before flicking away a single ear and starting for the door. “I think I’m ready to go home now.” She whispered.

“Home?” Willy hushed. Mitch set a hand on the child's shoulder, hoping to pause him from asking further questions.

“Real home.” Clementine clarified, refusing to look their way. She didn’t want to sneak an accidental glance at the computer scene. “Not here.”

Louis stepped forward, his heart heavy and weary, throwing his arm over her shoulders and guiding her toward the exit. “We can do that.” He cast a glance back at everyone else — daring and challenging — before exiting the room and starting for the van.

The group stood silent, heart weary and heavy, stomachs fragile and depressed. Without a word, all of them retreated to the van, silently getting in, remaining silent for the first chunk of the drive home.

Then, when Clementine grew teary-eyed in the passenger seat, Louis began loudly screaming ‘Take Me Home, Country Roads’.

Then, Clementine knew she was home.

Then, Clementine knew what home actually felt like. It wasn’t a place. It was a group of people, a tiny, busted van, and throwback songs from a better life. ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

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littlesugarwords · 4 years

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Walking Dead Game FanFiction - “We Know Her”

Title: We Know Her Characters: Clementine, Luke, Nick, Carlos, Sarah, Alvin, Rebecca, Omid, Christa Summary: Upon arriving at the ski lodge, Clementine is stunned to find Omid and Christa instead of Kenny. Author's Note: okay ima write this under the context that the whole “Nick shooting thing” doesn’t happen so that we can focus more on the cuteness of the rekindling lmao Requested By: ebimanami support me with ko-fi ♡ ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

It felt as though they’d been walking forever. To Rebecca, very pregnant and very sore, they had been.

“Can we take a minute?”

Everyone paused as Alvin eased her onto a rock. Rebecca had one hand pressed to her back and the other on her swollen belly. The entire time, Clementine was glancing ahead, squinting, seeing if she could spot anything through the hordes of trees. Luckily for all of them, she did.

Luke tore his attention from Rebecca to follow Clem’s gaze. He squinted, spotting a glimmer of red through the hordes of green and brown. Immediately, a grin broke out onto his face. “I think you’re right.”

“A bridge?” Sarah asked, hands clasped together, taking a step closer. It was her shy way of including herself in on the conversation. Luke and Clementine always obliged.

“It means we’re getting somewhere.” Luke said, smiling warmly her way. He wanted to squelch any anxiety she felt as quickly as possible. “We’ve never seen a bridge before. That means we’re making good progress at getting away from the lodge.”

The statement made Sarah frown, eventually turning back to her father. She liked the lodge. Deep down, a part of her had been hoping that they would eventually surrender and return to it. Hearing just how far away they were dashed that dream — her dream of returning to their little piece of home — and she turned away to sulk in private.

“I’m gonna scope it out.” Luke said, already starting forward.

Clementine smiled, ignoring the bitter sigh Rebecca offered behind them. “I’ll come.” She said, trotting to catch up to him as he paused, waiting for her.

They’d barely approached the bridge before Luke held his breath, pointing toward a building in the distance. “Do you see that?”

Clementine scrambled to find what he was looking at, especially seeing how his breath caught on his words. But following his gaze, squinting into the distance just out of reach, she spotted it. She, too, sucked in her breath. “A house.”

“A lodge.” Luke gawked, a hand running through his hair in amazement. “I can’t believe it.”

This was a major break for them. Since they’d left their cabin, they’d been wandering with no destination. No place to lay down their things and actually rest. Not only had they found that place, they’d found practically a mansion compared to the place they’d been living in prior.

It was a luxury. It was a dream come true and, if everything went according to plan, it would be theirs.

They darted back to the others, seemingly wasting away with boredom and impatience. When the duo excitedly scrambled in and offered the news — Clem grinning and watching as Luke fumbled his way through an explanation — the group was up and off.

“We’ll take the back.” Alvin said, offering a hand to help Rebecca to her feet.

Luke, Clementine, and Nick spearheaded the group with Carlos and Sarah in the middle, and Alvin and Rebecca following behind.

“Holy shit.” Nick breathed as they finally hit the bridge. “Is that a lodge or a mansion?”

“It’s perfect, that’s what it is.” Luke said, grinning, jostling his best friend excitedly. Nick offered a goofy grin, fixing his hat once he was done. “If there’s a God out there, he’s really cut us some slack with this one.”

“Let’s get there before we start throwing thank yous around.” Carlos said, body stiff and gaze trained ahead. Sarah could tell, as she turned to study him, that his eyes were latched onto the building. Even though she knew her father wouldn’t say it, he was impressed. She wanted to say he was thrilled, but her father was also a skeptic. He was probably holding his breath until he was sure the area was safe.

After all, he would always tell her ‘if it sounds too good to be true, it is.’ While he was often correct, it filled her with all types of anxiety constantly. How was she supposed to believe that anything good could come in a world that was constantly filled with dread? When her own father wouldn’t let her hold onto a glimmer of hope?

Regardless, Clementine’s hope allowed her to keep a flicker of it herself. If Clementine was hopeful — the girl that had seen so much — she believed that she could be hopeful too, even if it was only a bit to appease her father.

They continued across the bridge, drawing closer and closer to the lodge nestled on the hill before them. They still had a way to go — so far that Luke had a pit of worry in his stomach if Rebecca would be able to make it that far.

But he didn’t have time to worry about that now. They’d tackle that when they got there. For now, they needed to do exactly that; get there.

Luke and Clementine were the first to reach the base of the hill, Nick trotting up behind them. The mere thought of climbing the thing was already causing him to lag. Luckily for him, he wasn’t the only one.

“We need to be careful.” Carlos said, wandering up beside the trio. They were waiting for everyone else to draw closer before formulating a plan. “We don’t know if it’s inhabited.”

Luke nodded, his stance determined and ready. “Right. We need to be slow and quiet.”

“I can do that.” Rebecca said, setting her hands on her back and stretching under the weight of her swollen belly.

Luke nodded, scanning her up and down. Did he have his doubts? Definitely, but he wasn’t one to argue with Rebecca. No one was. Not even Alvin.

So, slowly, cautiously, glancing back to ensure that everyone was gradually following, they made their way up. The entire walk, Clementine remained practically glued to Luke’s side. Was she excited at the prospect of such a home? Of course. But did she want to risk it in the case that it was inhabited? Or dangerous? Or overrun with walkers? No way.

She trusted Luke. She knew she could wander beside him, and he would have her back. It brought her comfort during uncertainty. Ever since they’d left the cabin, their lives had been nothing but uncertainty. But not Luke. Luke had always been certain. Luke always had her back.

The closer they drew to the lodge, the more on edge the child felt. Suddenly, overwhelmingly, Clem had a bad feeling about this. As though the lodge was secluded and hard to get to for a reason; as though they were trespassing on someone’s property.

Little did they know, the were.

Clementine fell behind, offering to help Alvin with Rebecca, when she heard quarrelling up ahead. It wasn't the bickering she had grown used to back at the cabin, it was new. New voices. New people.

Her heart slammed into her stomach.

No.

She darted up the hill, sneaking her way behind the group and peeling her way through them. Carlos was frantically keeping Sarah behind him, not wanting her to even catch a glimpse of the strangers let alone be in their line of fire. Nick and Luke had their hands up and Alvin and Rebecca, slowly making their way up behind them, looked so meek and mild they were ignored.

“Get back.”

“We don’t mean any harm.”

“I don’t give a shit.”

Clementine frowned, pausing between Carlos and Nick, feeling as though she recognized the phrase. No, it wasn’t that. She recognized the voice. Feeling a swell of panic, she continued pushing her way forward.

“Clem--”

She weaseled her way out of Carlos’ attempt to grab her and keep her back. She wasn’t like Sarah. She didn’t need shielding. She was more than capable of holding out on her own.

“If you don’t back off, I will shoot.”

“Please, we’re just--”

Clementine peeled her way through the rest of her group, squeezing between Luke and Nick. She could feel Luke’s breath hitch as she pushed past him, no doubt terrified for whatever she was doing.

But she knew exactly what she was doing, because the moment she emerged through her group, her eyes widened into stars. “Christa?” The figure standing beside her lowered their weapon, and the face she saw prompted her throat to swell. “Omid?” She squeaked out.

Hearing the familiar voice, Christa lowered her gun, her eyes hesitantly settling on the child figure before her. After a beat, as though registering if her eyes were being truthful, she relaxed. “Clementine?”

“Clem,” Omid’s reaction was far more emotional than his partner’s. He dropped his gun and lunged forward on his knees. “Holy shit, Clem.” He settled his hands on her shoulders, drinking her in, allowing his hands to brush at her cheeks, her hat, and her arms.

Clementine smiled, the tears already swelling in the corners of her eyes. “Swear.” She said softly.

Omid smile, his cheeks pushing his tears forward and down his cheeks. He scoffed, wrapping his arms around her. “Get in here.” Clementine laughed, forcing her joy through the sobs as she settled against his jacket, feeling the familiar warmth Omid radiated.

Christa slowly lowered her weapon, her heart overwhelmed with emotion, so much so that she could barely move. By the time she was able to start forward, abandoning her weapon on the ground behind her, she was fiercely blinking back tears as she knelt down, wrapping the members of her mini-family in a warm embrace.

The cabin crew was stunned.

Luke turned around, his gaze landing on Nick momentarily before Carlos. Behind him, he watched as Alvin shrugged, adjusting his hold on his wife.

Out of all of them, the only one who had a softer reaction was Sarah. As she watched them, Sarah couldn’t help but give a faint smile. The way Clementine clung to them, the way joyous tears streamed down her cheeks that she scrambled to wipe away, made her heart warm.

Clem sniffled, peeling her face off of Omid’s jacket. She scrambled to clean her cheeks, staring at the two with misty, amazed eyes. Clem turned to her group, offering a gentle laugh. “Guys, meet Omid and Christa.” She turned, smiling, feeling one of Christa’s hands settle on her shoulder and one of Omid’s slip into one of hers. “They raised me for a while.”

Immediately, the tone on the deck softened, and the expressions of everyone grew warm and gentle.

Luke smiled warmly, extending a hand, hoping it was an accurate demonstration of peace. “I’m Luke.” he said. He smiled wider feeling Christa’s hand slip kindly into his own. “It’s an honour.” He said softly.

While Sarah may have lost her little piece of home, it meant Clementine was able to find hers. To Sarah, that was a fair trade. ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

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littlesugarwords · 4 years

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Walking Dead Game FanFiction - “The Journey Again”

Title: The Journey Again Characters: Clementine, Javier, Kate, Gabe, David Summary: Clementine, now accustomed to her season 3 team, is asked to share the story of her journey that put her there. Sequel to this fic. Author's Note: I’m so HAPPYYYY with this one :) Requested By: mag18622 support me with ko-fi ♡ ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

Nobody in Richmond knew anything about Clementine’s past, mainly because she refused to talk about it. Anytime anything came up regarding her past life, she grew silent — solemn and still — before excusing herself without reason.

She was hesitant when it came to participating in family events with the rest of the Garcias — seeing as she was an honorary member of the family — and seemed to be awkward and out of place through nothing but her own behaviour.

The only person who had ever heard a glimpse of what Clementine had been through was Javi, hearing her discuss her relationship with Lee in passing. Even then, there weren’t a lot of details disclosed. “He was like a father to me.” was all she’d offered.

“Clementine.”

“Hi Javi,” she said. Her voice was passive, her attention more so focused on doing inventory than on listening to what he had to say.

He hesitated, waiting to see if she paid him any mind. As usual, work was her priority. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Is that not what we’re doing right now?”

Javi hesitated, then closed his eyes. Clementine was quick, he always gave her that. “It’s kind of serious.” With that, slowly, she turned. She didn’t abandon the clipboard, merely held it closer to her chest with a brow raised. “I want you to know that you can talk to me.”

Clementine blinked, then furrowed her brows further. “What?”

“You never want to talk about yourself.” Javi pushed, brows knit in concern. “I see the way you act around us, and I can see the way you hate being asked about your past.” He frowned, especially seeing the way Clementine’s shoulders tensed. “I guess I’m just worried. And I’m not forcing you to talk, but--”

“Funny, it seems like that’s exactly what you’re trying to do.” Clementine said, tossing her clipboard down on a table, arms flopping and distraught.

“Clem--”

“Save it, Javi.” She scoffed, turning away and starting for the storage room’s door. “I don’t want to talk. Why can’t you just respect that?” Then, with her retort tossed over one of her shoulders, she swung the door closed behind her, shaking the room.

Javi closed his eyes, defeated, and decided to finish up her inventory work before heading home for the night. Then, when he did, he slid the door silently closed and slumped down at their make-shifty “table” — really a crate with a few plastic chairs surrounding it. At the table sat Kate and Gabe, chatting mindlessly, their chatter seizing as he slumped down beside them.

“Rough day?” Kate asked, riffling in something down by her feet and removing an unopened glass bottle of beer.

Javi eyed it, then her, then cracked it open and took a big swig. “You could say that,” he said, groaning as he felt it hit his stomach.

Just as his bottle was pressed to his lips again, David slipped into their room. While there was still constant underlying tension in the family, they were still that: family. All they had was each other, so they made do with awkward encounters as a means of survival. They needed to. There was no alternative.

Without a word, David reached into the same box by Kate’s feet, pulling out his own beer and popping it open. “Bottom up,” he scoffed, downing half of it in a single swoop. Clearly he too had a long day.

Who could blame it. Running a place as chaotic as Richmond — especially after the Garcias wild entrance — had to warrant him an award all in his own right.

“What happened with you?” Javi asked, leaning back in his flimsy seat.

David sighed, setting his bottle down on their ‘table’. “Another day, more needless squabbles with Eleanor.”

Everyone silently, and understandably, nodded.

Before Kate had a chance to ask for further details — living for any opportunity she had to rip into Eleanor — the front door swung open again and the room fell silent.

Clementine stormed inside, slamming the door shut behind her. Everyone in the room jolted at the sound. They turned to her, spotting the way her fists were clenched, her eyes were averted, and her body was tense. All they could do was wait, and blink, and stay silent. Javi had already upset her earlier in the day, he didn’t want to push his luck and upset her more now.

“Fine.” She finally said. It was all she said, at first. After a moment, finally gathering the courage to look up, she stared Javi dead in the eyes. “I’ll tell you everything.”

There was another moment of pause as Javi reached out, gesturing to the vacant chair off to the side of their small table for four. Gabe anxiously scooched over, pulling the chair up beside him. Clem fidgeted, as though debating her impulse decision, before taking a deep breath and starting forward, popping herself into her seat. She crossed her arms, closed her eyes, and hesitated.

“You don’t--”

“I’m thinking.” She shot back at Gabe, refusing to open her eyes. She took a deep breath — in through her nose, out through her nose — then parted her eyes. “You know only a little about Lee,” she began, staring Javi down across the table. “But you didn’t know that he helped me find my parents. That’s how I learned they were dead. That’s when Lee became like a Dad to me.” She looked away again. “But then he died too.”

The room felt heavy, the air thick and dark. Kate cleared her throat, glancing nervously around the table. “Clementine, you--”

“I fumbled from person to person for a long time.” Clementine said, arms crossing. She leaned back in her seat, attempting to get more comfortable. “Bouncing from person, who died, to the next person, who would die shortly after.” Her eyes were glued to the table, bitterly shaking her head. She was made at the world rather than mad at any particular person.

Javi and Kate eyed each other nervously. Just given the tone of her voice, Javier regretted ever asking her to express further details.

“But then, I found a group.” She said softly, eyes closing in nostalgic remembrance. “They were...so kind. So smart and good. Genuinely good. And they saved me.” She gave a sad smile. “Many times.”

Gabe shifted in his chair. The suddenly movement caused Clementine to turn, her eyes locked to the table, but toward his corner. “What happened to them?” He asked softly.

Clem hesitated, her gaze not wavering, before finally shifting it to the centre of the table. “One of them gave birth to a kid. A boy.” She frowned. “AJ.”

Everyone at the table stiffened. Silent eyes flickering to one another, wavering and hesitant. They really were telling her everything. Every one had always wondered what their connection was.

“But,” she gulped, “his birth caused a lot of problems.” She sat quietly for a moment, contemplating, before releasing a shaky breath. “His mother died, his father was killed, his birth generated attention, his crying generated even more.”

Javier glanced David’s way. Despite feeling his stare, David didn’t budge. He knew what his brother was thinking; he was livid that David dared try to take AJ from her given their history. He didn’t know about it then. He felt a pang of guilt in his chest. He didn’t want to remember it now.

Clem hugged her arms tightly. “Then, one by one, they all died.” She sighed through her nose, opening her eyes and staring ahead, dead into Javier’s eyes. “And that’s it. That’s my story.”

The room stayed silent for a moment, struggling with exactly what it was that they could say.

Finally, Javier cleared his throat and cracked his knuckles. He reached down beside him, sliding a glass beer bottle out of the box, cracking it open, and holding it out to the teen.

She eyed it, frowning, feeling an anxious weight settle on her shoulders. Kenny had always been weird about her drinking. She couldn’t help but feel a little apprehensive.

“Thanks for sharing.” Javi said, passing her a sad smile. “You’ve earned it.”

Then, feeling her shoulders relax, she reached out to take it, her fingers lingering against the glass for a moment before Javi let go. “Thanks.” She said softly.

Reaching down to grab his own, Javi lifted it up, weakly hovering it over the centre of the table. “To family.” He said softly, tipping the bottle of his bottle out, waiting for the rest of his family to engage.

Kate was the first to jump in. Then Gabe, then David, and then, after a teary moment of studying the group, Clementine swallowed her sorrow and did the same.

“To family.” Javi said.

“To family.” Everyone said softly, the sound of glasses clinking filling the air.

He chose not to comment as he watched a single test creep out of Clementine’s eye as she took her first sip. He knew that was worth speeches in itself. ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

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littlesugarwords · 4 years

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Walking Dead Game FanFiction - “Put Up”

Title: Put Up Characters: Clementine, Kenny, Kate Summary: In Richmond, Kenny notices that a boy is being rather persistent when it comes to bullying Clementine. So, Kenny takes on the responsibility of teaching her how to fight. Author's Note: I’m so happy with how with one turned out AHHHH YAY Requested By: simply_psychopathic on Wattpad support me with ko-fi ♡ ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

Clementine seldom ever cried. She had seen so much in her short, fragile life that not a lot phased her. So, when she did cry, that’s when Kenny knew something terrible had happened. So, it explained why he felt his blood run cold as Clem entered their building in Richmond, sniffling and rubbing at her cheeks.

“Clementine?”

“Hi Kenny.” She said, muffled through her coat.

He swivelled from the opposite direction he’d been facing, hoping that turning toward her could give him a better glimpse of what was going on, but she refused to face him. She was extremely focused on unbuttoning her coat and sliding her shoes off; too much so to face him.

Kenny frowned, squinting, trying his best to read her despite only seeing her back. “Clem, are you okay?”

She hesitated. He could practically hear her nervous gulp. “I’m fine.”

He squinted. “You don’t look fine.”

Clementine groaned, starting for an unused chair. She set down her bag, popped it open, and began rifling through it. “I’m just having a disagreement with another kid, that’s all.”

Kenny frowned. “Disagreement? As in how?”

“We just don’t get along.” Clementine responded, her tone wearing thin. “It’s fine. It’s not a big deal.”

For a beat, Kenny was silent, staring at the stick he was whittling as his current project. He hesitated, turning it over in his fingers, before speaking again. “So, what? He fights with you for chores? Turns kids against you?”

“Kenny, can you please just drop it?” She begged, turning around, shoulders sagging. He could tell her eyes were puffy; clearly dishevelled and sore.

“Fine, fine. I’ll drop it.” He turned back to what he was working on, running his knife over his stick once more. “It’s that fuckin prick Seth, isn’t it?”

“Kenny.”

He slapped his stick down, fed-up with the task. “I can’t just drop this, Clementine. This isn’t something I can just let go of.”

“It isn’t that big of a deal.”

“Some little shit is bothering you to the point of tears. That’s a fucking big deal.”

Clementine scowled as she turned half-way to face him, giving up on trying to organize her bag as a distraction. There was no use now. They were down the rabbit hole. The conversation was happening whether she liked it or not. “There’s nothing that can be done to stop it, so I might as well just accept it.”

Before he had a chance to offer any other change of debate — before he could carry the conversation any further — she stormed to her room, sealing the door behind her. He knew, just based on her tone and frustration, that that was the last he’d see her that day.

Dishevelled, he tossed his stick onto one of the nearby counters, pocketed his knife, and sunk his head into his hands. It was moments like these where he missed Sarita and Katjaa the most; moments where Clementine needed a mother.

By the time they two of them awoke the next morning, Kenny was already out the door, making his way to the mess hall as he’d volunteered to assist with breakfast for the week.

He hadn’t been working for long when he emerged, ready to start knocking on Richmond doors, notifying people that the mess hall was ready. As he neared their small home, he spotted the door creeping open.

There emerged Clementine, peeking her head out the door and glancing both ways before sliding out. Then, as she shut the door behind her, Kenny saw the litters of bruises coating her arms; the ones that she then hid by sliding her jacket over her shoulders.

Horrified, jaw agape, Kenny darted toward the door. “Clementine?”

Hearing the panic in his voice, Clem paused. Kenny could see her shoulders tense — as though she knew exactly what he was going to say — before turning around slowly. The moment their eyes locked, they both knew.

They knew that the other knew.

“Clem, where did you get all those?”

Sheepishly, she adjusted her sleeves, making sure they were pulled down as much as possible. “They were accidents.”

“Clementine.”

She flinched at his voice. He was serious. He was angry. She knew it wasn’t directed at her — it was directed at whoever had inflicted the bruises- but she still refused to meet his gaze.

“Clementine, who did that to you?”

She gulped, shoulders hunched and body cowering until, finally: “It was Seth.”

“I fucking knew it.”

Clementine glanced up, eyes wide and frantic, terrified of what this meant Kenny was going to do. “Please don’t do anything.” She said, reaching out to clutch his arms, pleading with him. “I’m just ignoring him. He’ll stop. It’s fine.”

“He’s coating your arms in bruises, Clem.” He said, brows furrowed and confused. “What the hell has he been doing to you?”

Clementine released her grip, shifting uncomfortably. “He punches my arms whenever I do or say something he doesn’t like.” She immediately shrugged, as though attempting to play it off. “I think he’s just trying to be playful. It’s easy to fix.”

“So, why hasn’t it been fixed then?”

Clementine hesitated, staring at the ground once again, knowing he was right. It wasn’t fixed, and it wasn’t going to be fixed because nothing was going to stop Seth. There was no reason she should waste her breath.

Kenny scoffed, cracking his knuckles and glancing around. Clementine opened her mouth, ready to start protesting and begging that he leave it alone and let her handle it, God, let anyone else handle it. “I’m teaching you how to fight.” He said before she had the chance.

Clem blinked, wondering if she had heard him correctly. “What?”

“Come with me,” he finally said, placing a hand on her back and guiding her away. The entire time, he kept his eye out. He knew the chances of encountering Seth was slim, but he couldn’t help but be aware. If he saw the kid, he knew he’d deck him.

“Kenny--”

He stopped her, pausing in a chunk of empty land. It was several feet away from one of Richmond’s parks where two moms were sitting, chatting peacefully, killing time while their kids played. “Hit me.” He said.

Clementine practically choked. “What?”

“Hit me.” He shrugged. “Don’t act like I can’t take it.”

“That’s not why I’m shocked.”

“Good. Then you can hit me.”

“Kenny--”

“Clem.” Kenny said. His gaze was stern and fierce. “Hit me.”

Clem held her hands together, nervously squeezing and twisted them. Finally, she took a deep breath — in through her nose and out through her mouth — and swung, smacking Kenny on the arm.

He didn’t flinch. Instead, he raised a brow as she recoiled. “That’s it?”

“I never fight with my fists!” Clem protested. “I always use a weapon.”

“You could use that on Seth.” Clem glared, so Kenny dropped the only-partially-joking suggestion. “Let me help you with your stance.” He said, reaching out and grabbing her shoulders. “You need to position yourself properly to give some power to your swing.”

Clementine let Kenny get her into the proper position, adjusting her arms, legs, and head.

“Now,” he began again, “focus on me. Look me dead in the eyes, then swing.”

Clem, despite being terrified, did it.

For the remainder of the morning, Kenny worked with her, then they split up during the afternoon to focus on their usual chores. As much as Kenny wanted the remainder of the day to be him guiding Clementine to kick Seth’s ass, he knew he couldn’t do that for a number of reasons. No matter how badly he wanted that.

But, by the time dinner rolled around, Kenny knew something was building. Clementine confessed that she wasn’t hungry, and after a terrifying day of unloading what was happening to her, Kenny didn’t blame her. Instead, he insisted she get something to drink, then go relax.

Clementine obeyed, albeit hesitantly. She felt tired, heavy, and emotionally exhausted. Her day had been a lot for her to handle. Maybe even too much.

Kenny took a seat at his usual table in the mess hall, cracking open a celebratory can of beer and taking a swig. It was a day well spent — successful and productive — and he deserved it. Clementine did too, and that was why she accepted that as her drink of choice to sit and relax with in the far corner of the room.

“Why is Clem sitting all the way over there?” Kate asked, easing herself into a seat beside Kenny. She didn’t touch her food, too distracted about Clem’s well-being to feel hungry.

Kenny shrugged. “Long day for her. She just wanted some alone time.”

Kate didn’t shift her glance from the child, nervously easing deeper into her seat, then using her fork to mix her food aimlessly.

But then, Kenny saw him; Seth, and he was making a beeline straight for Clem. Kenny held his breath. Noticing this, Kate turned to him with a raised brow before following his gaze.

Seth drew closer, smirking as his shadow came into Clem’s view, and she turned to see who it was. “Hey there ya dork.” he said, slapping at her shoulder. “Why are you sitting here all alone?”

Clem could feel herself cringe. Her arms were already entirely bruised, and feeling him smack her again only made everything that much more. “Seth, stop.”

Kate gawked, horrified. “Who’s that?” Kenny was too focused on watching the scene to bother answering. Besides, if he did, she might try to go over there and stop it. He definitely didn't want that.

Seth scoffed. “Why? You don’t know how to have any fun.”

Clementine glared, rubbing her arm irritably. Immediately, she regretted it. Seth eyed it, noticing that her arm was sore, and smacked it again. “Stop being so dramatic.” he said, and she couldn’t tell if he was trying to be playful or not.

“Seth, knock it off.”

“God Clem, you’re being so lam--”

Without a second thought, Clementine swung and socked him right in the nose, sending him spiralling to the ground, blood from his now-broken nose splatting on the floor.

Kate’s jaw dropped, especially when Clementine turned away, cracking her knuckles proudly, then taking a swing from her beer.

Kenny smirked, taking a sip of his own. “That’s my girl.” ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

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littlesugarwords · 4 years

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Walking Dead Game FanFiction - “A New Home”

Title: A New Home Characters: Clementine, AJ, Marlon, Louis Summary: An AU where Clementine and AJ are orphans, and Marlon decides to take them in. Author's Note: I’m SO happy with how this turned out oh my god oh my god I hope you guys like it :))) Requested By: littlewolfartist104 support me with ko-fi ♡ ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

There were new kids at school. Already it was strange — their school hadn’t had new students in what felt like forever — but these two were especially different.

They were siblings, an older girl and a younger boy, and they wandered into the building hand in hand on their first day. That alone set off alarm bells in the school’s social circles. After all, what kind of siblings did that? What kind of siblings got along that well?

“I’m Marlon, student body president. For today though, I’m your tour guide.” He flashed his classic, plastic smile. It was the same one he plastered on whenever he was giving a student body address. “What are your names?”

The girl shifted. “I’m Clementine. This is my brother, AJ.” She gestured to the child clinging to her hand. “But I don’t think we need a tour.” Her voice sounded calm, collected, cool. Marlon had to admit that given the death grip they had on each other, he hadn’t expected such confidence.

Marlon blinked. “Uh, it’s common practice for us to offer that to all new students.”

Clementine’s expression didn’t change. She shifted more weight onto her right foot, planting her free hand on her hip. “I doubt we’ll be here that long. It won't be necessary.” She glanced around, disinterested. “Point me in the direction of our first classes, and we’re good.”

Marlon blinked. “Are you not going to accept any other option?”

Clementine blinked in response. AJ was too busy studying the state of the halls to bat an eye in Marlon’s direction. Marlon took those as his answer.

Marlon pointed to his right, gesturing down a hallway humming with life. “Well, if you need anything, let me know what I can do.” The sentence was hardly past his lips before Clementine was starting away, tugging AJ behind her.

Was Marlon confused? Yeah, seeing as no student had ever spoken to him in such a way before. Worried? No. Curious? Definitely. All he knew for certain was that he wanted to know more, and that was enough of a drive.

All throughout the day, other members of the student council had been sending Marlon updates — and questions — about the two as per his request. It was common for him to ask his team to keep an eye on the new members of their community, seeing as they were student leaders. But this time around, just as suspected, everyone was just as confused by their behaviour as he was.

The two ate lunch alone on the back steps of the building — around where the smokers hung out. Clementine walked with AJ to everything if she wasn’t in class herself. She didn’t engage with anyone, she wasn’t interested in carrying a conversation if someone else attempted to initiate it; nothing.

But why?

After their first week, as per student council rules, Marlon caught them before class. They were making a beeline for their respective rooms despite there still being 20 minutes before classes started, when Marlon swept in front of them.

“Hi again.” He said, forcing a tender smile.

Clementine blinked. AJ looked away. Neither of them said anything.

Marlon cleared his throat, wavering from foot to foot, a habit whenever he grew nervous. “How was your first week?”

“Good.” Clementine stated plainly. She leaned her weight on one foot. “Easy.”

“I’m happy to hear that.”

Before he had a chance to say anything further, Clementine brushed past him. “Yeah,” she mumbled, not saying another word as she carried on, hand still locked in AJ’s. Marlon watched them as they walked, noting how Clementine never turned back.

AJ did, glancing curiously over his shoulder before hesitantly turning away.

Marlon’s confusion and frustration were growing more apparent to the other members of the student council team. Part of their job was to ensure new students felt included and represented, something that Clementine and AJ were actively not allowing them to do.

“Why do you think they’re so closed off?” Louis asked; the student council representative for the school’s drama society.

Marlon shrugged, stressful wringing his hands through his hair. This looked poorly on their entire team, but more specifically, him. Above everything though, something was intriguing to him about the two. Something was different. They carried something he’d never seen before.

He was curious. He wanted to know what it was about them that was so different. So secretive.

“I have no idea.” Marlon sighed, allowing his hands to slap down against their boardroom table. “What she said to me on the first day was that they ‘doubted they’d be here for very long’.”

Suddenly, after the words escaped him, his head perked up. That had to be it. Was that why they were being so distant? So closed off from the rest of the school?

Before anyone else in the room had a chance to comment on anything, he stood and gathered his things. “I need a brain break. We’ll pick up this up tomorrow.” Then, without another word, he left.

He couldn’t pinpoint why it was bugging him as much as it was. Did he care about the student body finding his efforts in student welcoming effective? Of course. Did he want to be reelected? Duh. But why was it that these two students, out of everyone, had him so mesmerized?

The next day at school, he decided to figure out why. He was determined.

As the duo wandered up to the school’s front steps — hand in hand, as they always did — they found Marlon in their way. His arms were crossed as he stood on one of the school’s front steps, staring them down.

Clem frowned. “Can we help you?”

“What did you mean when you said you didn’t think you were going to be here long?”

Clementine’s eyes widened, shoulders stiffening. The confrontation seemed to bristle her. “I don’t see why that’s relevant.”

“Well, it is.” His answers were quick and short; deliberate and pointed.

Clementine hesitated, squinting at him to study his demeanour. “Go inside, AJ.” She said, releasing his hand and patting his back. He glanced up at her, terrified at the statement before her gaze settled on his. Seeing her sweet smile — one of reassurance — he nodded and started inside. The moment the door closed behind him, Clem crossed her arms. “What is with you?”

“I just want to understand what’s going on.”

“Why? Our lives don’t affect you.”

“Yeah, but your well-being matters to me.”

Clem snorted, crossing her arms. “Why?”

“Because it’s my job.”

Clementine squinted more intently this time, as though staring him down. “We have a tendency to bounce from school to school.”

“Why?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“It is if I want to know how much effort to put into you.”

Clementine glared harsher. “None.”

“Not an option.”

Clementine groaned, slapping her arms down. “What is with you? I don’t get why you’re so hell-bent on learning more about the two of us. Stop stuffing your nose in where it doesn’t belong.”

Marlon frowned, scrunching said nose in disdain. “I’m only worried about the two of you.” He said. “No student has ever acted the way you two do. It has us all worried about what’s going on.”

“Well then I bet none of your students have ever been in foster care, huh?”

Marlon paused, eyes widening, his hardened stance relaxing. Did he hear her right? Had he imagined that?

As she expected would happen, Clem relaxed given his deflation. When she did, Marlon knew he had heard right. “Happy now?” She scoffed.

Marlon said nothing. He felt too heavy to. Because of that, Clementine scoffed, shook her head, and brushed past him. “Whatever.” After a moment, waiting until Clementine was well off behind him, he started inside as well; hands in his pockets and head hung low.

Clementine had been hoping her blowup was the last encounter she would have with Marlon until they inevitably switched schools once more. But, much to her surprise, come lunch hour, the back door to the school opened beside them. Clem turned, expecting to see one of the usual smokers that lingered there, but paused as she spotted Marlon.

Clementine furrowed her brow. “What are you--”

Marlon didn’t answer her. Instead, he sat down and pulled out his lunch from his bag.

“Marlon, I--”

“I just came out here to eat lunch.” He said softly.

Clementine stared at him. “You still want to associate with us?”

Marlon paused mid-bite, releasing his sandwich from his jaw and studying the grass. “I said you guys seemed different. I didn’t say different was bad.”

Clementine said nothing, only turned to study the field before them, smiling faintly to herself before continuing to munch on her granola bar.

As they made their way back inside, they reached the normal point where Clementine and AJ split off; each heading to their respective classes. Every time they did so, AJ bristled.

“I’ll walk you.” Marlon said, adjusting his book bag against his shoulder. Clementine turned his way, astonished at his sudden kindness. Spotting such, Marlon shrugged toward her. “My class is that way anyway.” He smiled, turning to AJ and guiding him as they made their way down the hall.

Clementine started after him, mesmerized, clinging to her backpack strap in awe.

Maybe she had him all wrong. Maybe he hadn’t been interrogating her as a means of getting dirt on her, maybe he actually had been worried. He was being so kind to them. So genuine; a kindness they hadn’t felt ever. It was sweetness without perks; kindness for the sake of being so.

The next day, as Clementine and AJ got their single granola bars and made their way outside for lunch, they could hear Marlon trot after them.

“Joining us again?” She asked softly.

It was sweet, not bitter of questioning; a heartwarming change for Marlon. “If you guys don’t mind.”

Clementine said nothing. She hoped he took that as a yes.

As the group sat down, with both Clementine and AJ pulling out their single granola bars, they froze when Marlon passed two plastic containers their way.

Clementine blinked, as did AJ, but Clem was the only one who turned to him. “What’s this?”

“Lunches.” Marlon said.

Clementine didn’t move. “For us?”

“Yeah,”

She blinked, stunned. “But why?”

“I noticed you didn’t have a lot to eat yesterday.” He shrugged. “I asked my mom to pack extra.”

Stunned, Clementine didn’t budge. Instead, Marlon set a single container in each of their laps. AJ immediately dug in, heartily eating the sandwich and veggies scattering the interior.

Clementine sat, eating every bite carefully and thoughtfully, reflecting on exactly how sweet and gentle each bite tasted.

Then, same as the day before, Marlon escorted AJ to class, waved a sweet goodbye to Clementine, and carried on his way. To Clem, she was blown away was an understatement. He was a blessing, and he’d come out of nowhere.

So, it was no surprise to her that a few days later, with their routine becoming even more solidified in all of their lives, Marlon left a note in her locker asking for her to swing by the student council room over lunch hour. As said hour arrived, and as her and AJ deviated from their normal routine, Clementine had faith it would be worth it. Marlon hadn’t let her down yet. She had faith he wouldn’t let her down now.

As they entered the room, they spotted Marlon, scrambling with a notebook and some papers, babbling into his phone. He glanced up mid-sentence, suddenly clamping his mouth shut. “I gotta go. Talk soon.” Then, hung up.

Clementine raised a brow. “What’s up?”

Marlon stood, drawing closer to the two, his grin palpable. She could practically feel the nervousness radiating off of him. “Hey!” He said, nervously pressing his palms to his pants.

Clem slowly crossed her arms, suddenly feeling a wave of anxiety. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes! Yes, uh,” he paused to clear his throat, “I have good news. I just wanted to share it with you privately.”

Clementine shifted. “Really?”

Marlon smiled faintly — answer enough for Clem — before he nervously rubbed his hands together. “Well, uh,” he gave a sheepish laugh, then held his hands out. “My parents have agreed to take you guys in.”

Clementine’s has dropped, AJ’s eyes widened, but the two of them remained silent.

“It would be at the very least until a better offer until adoption comes along but, I don’t know, they also said that maybe that can change. Not that they’d give you up, but that they’d actually adopt you. But that’s all--”

“Are you serious?” Clem asked, voice strained and weak, as if catching on something.

“Yeah, of course.” Marlon gave a sad smile. “I wouldn’t joke about something like that. That would just be--”

He didn’t get a chance to finish. Before he could, Clementine was sliding toward him, arms open, capturing him in the tightest hug he’d ever had. He blinked, taken aback, before letting his arms settle on her back, letting his head slide into her neck, letting the feeling of her rapid heartbeat mesh with his.

“Thank you.” She whispered. That’s when he realized she was crying, faintly but truly, into his shoulder.

All he could do was smile, making eye contact with AJ who was beaming a few paces behind them. “Of course.” He whispered back. ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

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littlesugarwords · 4 years

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Walking Dead Game FanFiction - “A Little Busted Up”

Title: A Little Busted Up Characters: Clementine, AJ, Javier, Eleanor Summary: Javi tries to teach AJ baseball but the poor kid ends up batting a ball into Clem's face, giving her a broken nose and a nasally voice. Author's Note: I hope this one is okay agh it’s my first time writing in a little while :( Requested By: Anonymous support me with ko-fi ♡ ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

Javier’s eyes widened, sparkling as though he was a child on Christmas. “Really?”

AJ blinked, confused by his reaction, but nodded nonetheless.

“Really really?”

AJ blinked again, turning to Clementine to silently ask for an explanation. The teen rolled her eyes, dropping her crossed arms and shooting Javi one of her signature looks. “Yes, Javi. He’s serious. He wants to learn.”

AJ looked between the two of them: the trail Javier shredded into the dirt to Clementine wearing her hesitant gaze. “Clem?” He asked.

“I think you just made his year.” Was all she said in return.

Based on the excitement Javier showed as he darted down the sidewalk, eyes bright and hopeful like nothing she’d ever seen before, she knew she was right.

“Okay, let’s get started!” He sang, juggling all the supplies in his arms.

He failed. They scattered on the ground, but he seemed too eager to care. As strange as it was to Clementine — after all, she’d never seen him this excited about anything — it was charming. Especially thanks to how sweet he was toward AJ.

“Where do we start?”

“With finding you a proper bat.”

Given the nature of the apocalypse, they didn’t have a lot of sports supplies to work with. Clem was lucky that when she was a kid, when they were staying in that ratty Motor Inn, they were early enough into the End Times that the abandoned soccer and basketballs there still had some air in them.

Unfortunately for AJ, those days were long gone. Ways of leisure had long since deflated, and sporting equipment was now used as means of defence against ‘the enemies’; whoever that might be that week.

So, the best they had to work with were a couple of heavy-duty tree limbs Javier had set aside. “Not ideal,” he said, “but good enough for now.”

For now. That implied there would be more in the future.

Who was Clementine kidding. Of course there would be more in the future. That was Javier Garcia; the king of showing off. He was bored as sin whenever there wasn’t a raid or an attack, so of course he’d leap at the chance to show a protégé what made him famous in his past life.

“Stand like this.” Carefully, Javier positioned AJ’s hands against the club, then holding his ankles while adjusting how far apart his feet should be. Javi stood upright to demonstrate, then knelt down to adjust his student.

AJ fumbled as he was adjusted, his eyes trained on Javier the entire time. From afar, Clementine crossed her arms and smiled, watching how gentle Javier was whenever he laid his hands on AJ.

She’d only ever told him portions of what happened to AJ — to both of them — at the ranch. She didn’t like going into detail. Yet, that was all he needed for him to treat both of them so kindly, but certainly AJ.

Frankly, that meant more to Clementine than him being gentle to her.

“This is how you swing,” Javi began. To demonstrate, he took the bat from AJ’s hands, swinging it as an example. “See?” He repeated the action — slower this time — to break everything down step by step. “Bend your knee, tuck it inward, and swing your arms up and over your shoulder.”

AJ furrowed his brows, wavering from foot to foot. Clem could tell he was antsy now that he saw just how much went into it. It wasn’t just hitting a ball with a stick out of vengeance. “Okay.”

Noticing this, Javier gave a small smile and knelt again, holding the make-shift bat out to him. “We’ll practice together before I actually throw a ball, okay?”

AJ’s tense shoulders immediately deflated. “That would be good.”

Clementine, silently from the background, agreed.

Once more, she watched as AJ practised, and watched as Javi made him freeze in place, correcting his position. “Bend your knee a little more.” He’d say, adjusting his stance for him. Then, he accepted the child’s wrists into his hands. “And put your arms about here,” he said, rolling out the ‘o.’

“Okay,” AJ said, nodding. He did another practice swing.

To that, Javier smiled. It was still sloppy, but for a beginner, Javier had high hopes. “You’re almost a pro.” He pat AJ on the right shoulder as he spoke.

The gleam in AJ’s eyes as his stance relaxed said everything the child didn’t know how to. “Really?”

“Definitely.” Javi chuckled, patting his shoulder once more before starting away “Ready to try this for real?”

“Yes!”

Clementine smiled warmly, relaxed and confident. Javi knew what he was doing; it had been his job, after all. He wouldn’t be sending AJ a ball if he didn’t think he was equipped to hit it.

So, Javier stood paces away, watching the boy and asking if he was ready. At the child’s confirmation, watching him get into the proper stance, Javier threw and AJ swung.

And oh was Clementine right. He did hit it. He nailed it, and he sent it flying straight for her.

AJ’s eyes widened. Clementine backed away. Javier froze.

But none of it was worth it. None of it changed anything.

There was a smack, a scream that cut straight to bone, and suddenly Clementine was laying in a heap on Richmond’s dirt floor.

“Clem!” AJ wailed, dropping his bat and starting closer to her.

*Javier’s body was stiff, numbly taking steps closer to the girl on the ground. When he spotted the blood spurting to the ground below her, his pace quickened. “Clementine!” He called, darting as fast as he could.

Before he even reached her, she was holding a hand out toward him, waving him away, scoffing and sighing through the blood pouring out from her fingers. “I’m fine!” She called. It was muffled due to where her hand was, shielding her nose and mouth.

“Clem, move your hand.” She didn’t, but Javier was too worried to get mad. “AJ? AJ, go get Eleanor.”

“We don’t need to—“ “Go!” Javier said again, silencing the girl more forcefully than intended as he turned to the child. AJ’s eyes were glossy and dewy, but he nodded, obeying Javier rather than Clem, and fumbling away.

Clementine shook her head, more spurts of blood splattering onto the dirt. “We don’t need Eleanor.”

“You’re bleeding, Clem. We do.”

“I’ve bled before.”

“Not like this. Move your hand.” Javier had a hand on one of her shoulders, the other sweetly brushing at the side of her face, trying to get her to face him.

She was hesitant, despite his reassuring touches. By the time she caved, moving her hand and giving Javier a better look, his fear had only grown. His stomach churned. His hope faded. “Clem, it doesn’t look good.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think it’s broken.”

Clementine groaned which, frankly, wasn’t the reaction Javier was expecting. He knew Clementine was a tough cookie, but he expected tears or whimpers, not a dissatisfied groan. She acted as though it was more of an inconvenience rather than something actively causing blood to gush from her face.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” She groaned.

By the time AJ had scurried back, Eleanor was at his side. She had a small medical kit in her arms — only the essentials seeing as she hated to waste — and knelt in front of the girl.

“Okay,” Eleanor said through a sigh, also seemingly more irritated than genuinely concerned. “Just sit still. We’re gonna clean this away and see what we’re working with.”

Unfortunately for everyone, after cleaning away the blood pouring from Clem’s face, and after stuffing her nose with clumps of tissues, it didn’t mask the obvious tilt her nose now had.

“Oh no.” Eleanor stated, pulling the bloody cloth she’d been using to clean the girl’s face away in shock. “It’s definitely broken.”

Clementine groaned even louder this time than she had before. “You’re kidding.”

Javier furrowed his brows, staring at Clementine, trying to see if what he heard was correct.

Eleanor shook her head, stuffing the bloody cloth back into her medical kit and snapping it closed. “Unfortunately, I can’t do anything about that.”

“Nothing?” Clementine scoffed, tugging the tissues out of her nose. They only had faint splotches of blood on them, meaning the bleeding was finally beginning to slow. “So what? Am I just supposed to live with my nose like this?”

Javier’s brows relaxed as he bit down on his lower lip, chewing on it anxiously, trying to stop the laugh that was bubbling in his stomach. Stomach laughs were always the loud ones. He needed to force it back.

Eleanor stood, shoving her medical kit under her arm. “For now? Yes.” Catching Clementine’s very obvious glare past her horribly askew nose, Eleanor stiffened and looked away. “I’ll see what I can do.” Then, nose upturned, body stiff and stressed, she walked away.

And Javier, failing on holding his demeanour, let a small squeal escape. Clementine’s gaze snapped to him, and he slapped a hand over his mouth. AJ beside him, brows knit and terrified, didn’t react.

“What.” Clem snapped, a bitter statement rather than a question.

Javi didn’t move his hand, contemplating how he was going to go about handling this without coming off as insensitive. He cleared his throat, removing his hand, sucking his lips in before daring to speak. “You just sound different.”

She blinked. Javi’s shoulders tensed. “Sound different?” She asked, daring him to continue.

Javier sucked in his lips again, closing his eyes to compose himself.

Clementine didn’t give him the luxury. “Javi, stop being a jerk!” She snapped, standing up and glaring his way. Her crooked nose and nasally speech was too much for him to handle.

“I can’t help it!” He squealed, hands waving, his lungs heaving at how ridiculous she sounded. Beside him, AJ still didn’t fully understand what was happening. He raised a brow and looked around, trying to understand what the joke was.

“Javi!”

Javier fell to his knees, unable to get over how ridiculous her voice sounded as she angrily yelled his name. “Oh my God, Clem.”

“Stop laughing! This is your fault!”

He wheezed even harder. “I know! I know and I feel terrible.” The last word barely came out; it was almost all air. “But at least you’re okay!” He wheezed, trying desperately to redeem himself.

Clementine glared, attempting to scrunch her nose but flinching due to the pain. Wanting to avoid kicking Javier while he was down — literally — she turned and stormed away, making her way toward Eleanor’s tent to see if she’d come up with anything.

Just when Javier thought he was regaining his composure, and just as he was wiping the tears from his eyes, he heard Clementine yell something from over her shoulder.

“Fuck you, Javi.”

He lost it all over again.

AJ, still at his side, frowned. “Maybe baseball was the wrong sport to learn.” ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

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littlesugarwords · 4 years

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Walking Dead Game FanFiction - “Sweet Memories”

Title: Sweet Memories Characters: Clementine, AJ, Louis, Marlon Summary: Without knowing AJ and Clem’s history with Kenny, Louis challenges AJ to a shadow puppet making competition one night to help AJ sleep. Clem finds them laughing hysterically together and, without them noticing, looks at both of them lovingly - the same way she did when she found AJ watching Louis play the piano. After AJ falls asleep and Louis tucks him in, he gets up from the floor and spots Clementine. All she can do is blink back happy tears. Author's Note: I’m so happy with this one yay!!! Requested By: Anonymous support me with ko-fi ♡ ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

When Clementine heard happy, giddy laughter from the base of the watchtower, she felt an odd wave of calm pass over her.

Clementine was on look out duty that night and, like most of the times when Clem was on the graveyard shift, AJ didn’t want to sleep. “If you get to stay up, I want to stay up too.” He’d always say, even though Clementine hated that excuse.

Clem had raised a brow. She didn’t exactly know how well Louis would be as a babysitter, but really, she didn’t have a lot of other options. So, eventually, she gave in.

After half an hour of her shift had passed with nothing warranting any need for panic, she heard the familiar sweet, gentle giggle flutter up to her position from the ground below. Peering over the ledge, Clementine’s eyes widened. While initially she’d been worried about what exactly ‘babysitter Louis’ would mean, an aerial shot of their camp had her fairly impressed.

Louis had set up a white sheet on a cluster of boxes, draping it over them and creating a make-shift wall. He’d set it up in front of one of Ericson’s picnic benches, followed by snapping on one of their few flashlights and shining it at the sheet.

“Now this is gonna be fun.” Clem heard him say.

AJ was giggling excitedly, folding his hands into each other, beaming at the soon-to-be screen before him. “How do you do it? How does it work?”

“Like this,” Louis said. Gracefully, Clem watched as Louis contorted his fingers in front of the flashlight. First, he held up a peace sign, showing the level of magnification. Then, he made a simple talking mouth.

AJ burst into another fit of giggles, and another wave of calm and joy fell over Clem’s shoulders. He was having fun, even if he was getting no sleep. To that, Clem didn’t care much. How long had it been since she’d heard a genuine laugh from the boy? A laugh of unadulterated joy? It was so rare those days to have such gleeful fun. He could take losing sleep to live through the moment.

And she could risk not watching the quiet forest for a few more minutes to bask in his joy.

“Here, you can make animals too.”

AJ’s eyes lit up like stars. “What? How?”

Cheekily, grinning from ear to ear at how well he was entertaining the child, Louis took a moment to get his fingers into the proper position, then slipped his hand in front of the flashlight. There before them was a somewhat distorted, and only slightly sloppy, shadow of a rooster.

AJ giggled, amazed at how Louis could contort his hands in such a way.

From up above, Clementine rested her cheek in one of her palms, smiling, feeling a warmth settle in her cheeks.

AJ took a moment to glance down at his own fingers, studying them before studying the way Louis had his shaped. Finally, he slapped them down into his lap.“Can you make any others?”

Louis smirked. “Oh, I’m a master. I definitely can.”

Clementine chuckled. Luckily she was too high up for her laughter to be noted. She couldn’t wait until her shift was over. Then she’d be able to sit down and join them if they were still going that late. The thought that she might miss out promoted a frown, the warmth in her cheeks beginning to fade.

Louis contorted his fingers again, smiling as he placed them in front of the flashlight.

This time, AJ didn’t react. He stared with a blank expression at the sheet before them. Finally, he glanced over, eyeing Louis’ hopeful and cheeky grin. “What is it?”

His grin fell. “It’s a rabbit.”

AJ snorted. “That’s a rabbit?”

Louis’ jaw dropped playfully. Sitting off to the side, Clementine smirked, biting her lower lip to hold back a laugh. “Okay tough stuff, show me what you got.” Louis said, crossing her arms and puffing out his lower lip. “Show me your rabbit. Let’s see how much better you are.”

AJ smirked, hovering his hand over the propped up flashlight. He took his time contorting his fingers, using his free hand to mould them into the proper shape. Sure enough, in no time at all there was a picture perfect shadow puppet of a rabbit. Clementine hadn’t seen one that perfect since Kenny had done shadow puppets with them.

She felt a jab in her chest; a wave of nostalgia that hit her with such force she felt taken aback by it.

There was no way that AJ remembered it, he had only been a baby when they’d been entertaining him with it, but she remembered it. She remembered it well. It was one of the last fond memories she remembered having with Kenny.

She watched them for a while longer, finding it blissfully how much fun the two of them were having with things as simple as a flashlight and a bed sheet. But it was wholesome, and sweet, and reminded her of the life the two of them had prior to Ericson.

It reminded her of their previous family.

As the night waned on, and as the night drew colder, Clementine watched as Louis grabbed a blanket to wrap AJ up in. Their giddiness with making shadow puppets had since passed, and instead Louis had settled on telling him a story.

“Can you make it a scary story?” AJ asked.

“You gotta sleep at some point tonight, AJ.”

AJ puffed out his lower lip. “Scary stories don’t scare me.”

Louis raised an eyebrow to challenge him, but AJ didn’t budge. Louis settled on telling him on what he labelled as a ‘scary story’ but was really just a tall tale he remembered his own parents telling him whenever they went camping; about Bigfoot and his family.

Clementine glanced further over the edge, watching AJ lie down in the grass, rolled up in his blanket with Louis at his side, rattling off his story as AJ curled into the ground.

A few minutes passed, Clementine unable to hear what exactly was occurring in the story down below, when she felt a shift on the platform. She jumped, the sweet mist gathering in her eyes vanishing. Sure enough, approaching the top of the platform from the ladder was Marlon, his hands in his pockets the moment he hit the top.

“Marlon,” she breathed.

“Wanna go down there?”

Clem blinked, confused at first of what he was asking. As he nodded toward the edge of the platform, and as Clementine followed his gaze, she understood. Once her stare met his again, she meekly nodded. “I’d like that.”

He smirked as he planted his hands on his hips. Despite how strict Marlon could be, his heart was often in the right place. Besides, he knew how much AJ meant to Clementine. He’d never stand in the way of her spending valuable time with him.

“I’ll cover the rest of your shift.” He said, wandering up beside her and leaning against the railing. “Get down there.”

She blinked. “Really?”

All he did was nod.

She hesitated, then smiled, then slowly felt the mist in her eyes seep back in. She nodded thankfully, not saying another word as she made her way down the ladder, scurrying as quickly as possible.

As she hit the ground, she spotted a sight that left her lost in awe. Louis sat beside AJ, smiling down at him and adjusting the blanket holding the child. AJ was out cold, nuzzled deep into the blanket, eyelashes fluttering as he dreamed.

But when Louis knelt down, ready to sweep the child into his arms and carry him to bed, that’s when Clementine could feel the breath catch in her throat.

Louis was so sweet to him. To all of them, but to AJ in specific. Clementine had expected the exact opposite from a group of teenagers. She’d assumed all of them would write AJ off as nothing more than a liability, but not only did they enjoy having AJ there, they actively spent time with him. They were kind to him, and gentle toward him, and treated him with love and care unlike anyone else.

Clementine hadn’t seen anyone that kind and patient with him since Kenny.

She could feel tears lodge in her throat and warm her vision at the thought of his name.

“Oh hey Clem.” Louis said softly, not wanting his words to disrupt the peace in the air. He moved his arms away from AJ, temporarily giving up on moving him inside. Instead, he drew closer to the girl. “I thought your shift didn’t end until 3?”

Clementine gulped, the overwhelming tears gathering in her eyes blocking her view.

Louis hesitated, watching the way her hands were clenching, the way she was blinking, the way she shifted from foot to foot. “Clem?” He asked, gaze tender and soft. His brows knitted together. “What’s wrong?” The closer he drew, the deeper he could see her tears went. He reached out, clasping his hands firmly on her shoulders, his head dipping in. “What’s got you sad?”

She completely shattered. Through a sad smile, a strangled sob escaped her lips. She buried her face into his chest, locking her arms around his back and taking a deep breath of the familiar, homey smell. “Thank you.” She whispered.

Louis froze at first, confused and hurt seeing Clementine distressed. He wrapped his arms around her, settling his lips on the top of her head. “For what?” He whispered, his fingers tracing circles into her jacket.

“For being so good to him.”

Louis froze again, the hands that were rubbing at her back and hair pausing. He only hesitated for a moment, registering what she meant before his motions slowly resumed. To that, all he could do was smile, resting a cheek against the top of her hat. “Always.”

And she knew he was telling the truth.

She knew because now, and always, this was their real, true home. Not because of location: because of the people.

And Marlon, watching their sweet exchange from the watchtower, thought the exact same thing. ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

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littlesugarwords · 4 years

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Walking Dead Game FanFiction - “Fear Immunity”

Title: Fear Immunity Characters: Clementine, Omid, Christa Summary: Clementine, Omid and Christa all panic when eleven-year-old Clem is bitten, but as time passes and there are no changes, they learn that the child is immune to walker bites. Author's Note: omg nanowrimo is kicking my ASS but I still had time to throw this together lol enjoyyyy Requested By: Anonymous support me with ko-fi ♡ ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

“Shit shit shit!”

“Omid!” Christa hissed, pulling the gas station door shut behind them, albeit struggling due to her belly. “Set her down and come help me.”

Omid flipped around, hugging the child tightly to his chest, momentarily glancing down to study her. Her eyes were droopy and her skin was pale. She was definitely shaking, he knew that for sure, but he didn’t know what state she was in. He didn’t know how far in she was.

Clementine had been bitten two hours prior. Since then, Omid and Christa had been on a constant move, despite Christa’s pain and Omid’s panic. They knew they needed to keep moving. They couldn’t afford the luxury of not. Clementine, more than both of them, couldn’t afford it.

As time passed, she’d grown pale. Her crying had slowed and her tears left dried trails on her cheeks, and the wound — located on her right ankle — continued to bruise on its cruel purple, green tones. She seemed groggy — sleepy and out of it — while also jumpy and hyper alert. It was a horrible, and terrifying, combination.

That was why they knew they needed to barricade the doors shut while they figured out what they were to do; for her sake and theirs. Everyone was safer if they just sealed themselves away.

Omid groaned, pushing a vending machine in front of the double glass doors. Christa, on the other end of the room, pulled Clementine between the gas stations shelves, sitting on the ground with her and studying her vacant face.

“Okay,” Omid wheezed, darting to where the two were sitting. “As long as we stay down, we’re fine. Nobody will pass by and bother us.” He didn’t know if that was entirely true, but hoped saying it would calm Christa down.

It didn’t. She knew the world that they lived in; she knew how cruel and unforgiving it was. She knew that if someone passed by, the chance of them staying safe was slim to none. After all, look at Clementine. The world hadn’t shown any mercy to her, and she’d done nothing wrong. Who was to say it would show them any mercy?

“What are we going to do?” Christa asked, whispering her wheeze Omid’s way.

Omid sank into one of the shelves, a hand wiping over his face, through his hand and pulling against the back of his neck. His gaze fell to the girl on the ground, rolled up in her sweater and half-asleep, pale as a ghost. “I don’t know.” He whispered.

Christa stared, one hand on her pregnant belly and the other propped up behind her, holding her up. “I can’t believe this.”

Clementine groaned, extended her wounded leg out as she curled deeper into her sweater. Omid could feel his heart crack at the sight. He pressed a hand to his lips, thinking, his eyes quivering as they sat against her body.

He didn’t know how much time they had until she turned, until she left, until they were in danger. If it was soon, with the door barricaded with Christa pregnant, they would be on the clock to get out of there. That was asking for time Omid knew they wouldn’t have.

“We need to do something.” Christa said, turning to him desperately. “We can’t just sit here.”

“I know,” Omid said, muffled through his hand. He dropped it. “I just don't know what.”

Christa closed her eyes. “We both know what.”

“Don’t.”

“What?” Christa scoffed, her brows knitting as she glared down her partner. “We both know what this means. We both know what’s going to happen.”

“We can’t think about that right now.”

“Then when, Omid?” She snapped, trying her best to keep her voice down. If Clementine was conscious, she didn’t want her overhearing their conversation. She didn’t want Clem to hear them debating her fate. “The longer we wait, the bigger a problem this is going to become.”

Omid stared at the child, unable to tear his gaze away. Slowly, he began shaking his head. “We can’t do this. Not here and not now.”

“So then what are we going to do?”

“Wait.”

“Wait?” Christa scoffed, leaning forward in horror. “Seriously?”

“What do you /want/ me to say?” Omid snapped, finally letting his gaze lay on his partner's. Seeing tears welling in his corners, Christa’s aggression eased. Her expression relaxed, but her pose did not. “‘Let’s shoot her now?’ ‘Let’s get it over with’? No, Christa.” Omid snapped, his gaze wavering, unable to articulate just how pained he was. “I can’t.”

Christa blinked, hesitating before leaning back into the shelf. “Why?”

Omid shook his head, glancing down, horrified that she was even asking such a question.

“Why can’t you do it for me? For us?” She asked, both hands sitting atop her swollen belly. “What’s your priority, Omid?”

Omid scoffed, shaking his head. He leaned back into the shelf and glanced up to the ceiling, praying for an answer. Praying for guidance. “That’s not fair.” He said softly. Then, after closing his eyes and composing himself, he turned to her again. “Because she is someone's baby too.”

They were pregnant, and yet they were sitting on the floor of a grungy gas station debating taking the life of a literal child; a child who had done nothing but bring them joy and patience in an otherwise cruel, brutal world.

What happened if their child was ever placed in this situation? Wouldn't the two of them want someone to show patience toward their baby? Care? Consideration rather than selfish desperation preserving themselves rather than another human life?

Omid didn’t need to say it for Christa to know he was thinking, and for Christa to start thinking the exact same thing. She glanced away, down at her belly, then at the child curled up at her side, then at the floor.

Omid had a point, and she hated that. Because they meant they were left in dangerous, uncertain territory; territory she didn’t ever want to be in, but certainly not while pregnant.

Clementine groaned, her eyes opening. She whimpered as she attempted to move her leg. “Ow.”

Omid turned to her, immediately drawing closer. He could feel Christa tense behind him given his proximity, but he ignored it. “Clem? Are you awake?”

“Yeah,”

“What’s wrong?”

Clem groaned again, pushing her arms into the ground and helping herself upright. “I’m cold.” She said. “My leg hurts, and I’m sleepy.”

Christa watched her move, watched the child’s movements as Omid slipped off his coat and wrapped it around her. She watched as Clementine nuzzled into it, burying the lower half of her face and only leaving her eyes exposed. Christa couldn't look away. She couldn’t help herself.

Something wasn’t right there.

The way she was acting and moving, talking and behaving wasn’t making sense. At this point, they were beyond the three-hour mark after she’d been bitten and yet, other than the state of the bite itself, she seemed completely normal. Alarmingly normal.

Even as Omid rolled up her pant leg to get a better look at the wound, there was fresh blood drying around it; not the same coloured scarring that happened with Lee’s bite, and not the same green-tinted skin that started there and spread like every other bite victim Christa had seen.

“Woah,” Omid said softly.

“Is it bad?” Clementine asked, her words muffled through the warmth of the coat. Christa could hear the panic in the child’s voice, but bit her lip. She needed to wait. She needed to see how Omid was going to approach this before she dared to.

Omid glanced up to the child’s terrified gaze before snapping to look down again. “No no,” he quickly fumbled out, his fingers numbly holding her rolled up jean fabric out of the way. “That’s why I’m surprised.”

Clementine blinked but said nothing. Instead, she silently watched as the two adults glanced at each other, eyes wide and confused, before turning back to her.

“Clementine, do you feel sick at all?” Christa finally asked, adjusting how she was seated.

Clementine hesitated, confused, then shook her head. “No, I’m just cold.” She said softly. “And hurting.”

That one was a knife to the heart. Christa recoiled, leaning back into her shelf and frowning, her gaze drifting to Clem’s wounded ankle.

Omid was stuck staring at the wound; squinting at it and trying to better study it. “Hm.” he said softly, gently releasing his grip. “Give me a second.” He said, vanishing into a different aisle. By the time he came back with a handful of medical supplies, Christa felt her heart leap into her throat.

This was risky. There was no guarantee that Clementine was going to survive, and if they actively treated her wounds only for her to die, it would be a waste of supplies they could be saving for themselves, their own child, or Christa’s labour.

Yet, despite knowing such, as she watched Omid unpack everything desperately and quickly, she didn’t stop him. She didn’t snag the supplies back or ask him to stop. She didn’t want to. She wanted him to treat her.

She wanted Clementine to make it, and this might guarantee that. Who was she to stand in the way of that? After all, what would she want if it was her child? Truthfully, Clementine was that. Maybe not by blood, but Clementine was theirs. Who would she be if she pushed her away? If she denied Clementine of that chance?

A bad Mom, that’s what.

“This might hurt,” Omid said, popping open the lid of a disinfectant. Clementine closed her eyes, whimpering, already feeling the anxiety clawing up her throat before the treatment even began.

Christa leaned forward, swallowing her fear and offering the child one of her hands. “Here,” she whispered. “Focus on me. It’ll be okay.”

Clementine looked at her, her eyes saying everything Christa needed to hear. Clementine knew Christa was scared of her, and Clementine seemed like she was even scared of herself, but Christa reaching out was a sign of hope. It was all she needed to believe she would be okay.

So, she took it, and the moment the disinfectant hit her wound, she bit down on Omid’s coat and wailed.

Time passed, and after Clementine’s wound was cleaned out and wrapped, she curled up into the ground, drowning in pained tears before drifting to sleep. Christa and Omid sat aside, watching her from a distance, monitoring her.

But nothing changed.

Her skin colour didn’t change, her breathing didn’t slow, and her shaking gradually calmed given the added layer. She was managing. She was surviving. She was okay.

As nothing changed, Omid drew closer, setting a hand on her head as he surveyed her. She groaned slightly, waking momentarily given the touch. “Keep sleeping, Clem.” He whispered. “I'm just checking in.” Clem immediately obeyed.

Then, Omid took a seat beside her with one hand on her head brushing at her hair. Christa moved beside him, leaning her back into the shelf. She felt the warmth of his hand settle against her swollen belly the moment she relaxed. After a few moments passed — after she was certain the child was asleep — she spoke. “Do you think she’d going to be okay?”

Omid turned to her, rubbing her stomach in circles, feeling faint movement beneath her skin. He smiled, tears glistening in the corners of his eyes as he looked his future; the woman he loved, his soon-to-be child, and the little girl they’d accepted as their own. He watched as Clem’s head nuzzled closer to him, her breathing faint, and soft, and peaceful.

“I do.” He whispered. “Because she needs to be.” ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

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littlesugarwords · 4 years

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Waking Dead Game FanFiction - “Calling It Quits”

Title: Calling It Quits Characters: Clementine, Javier, David, Kate, Eleanor Summary: After AJ’s death, Clementine turns to drinking and smoking, amongst other malicious habits. David and Javi, upon seeing this, need to find a way to turn the child around. Author's Note: I’m so happy with how this turned out awe I feel so sappy Requested By: ebimanami support me with ko-fi ♡ ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

It had been two months since AJ died, and the cloud that had been hanging over Richmond had no signs of vanishing.

The town felt thick and heavy, as though a weight none of them could help was suffocating them. While not everyone in the town knew AJ — many never even having met Clementine — the leaders of Richmond had. David, Javi, and Kate’s mourning carried over everyone.

“Clementine?”

“Busy.”

David lowered his hand from where it had been knocking on her door. The interaction was a common one, but it didn’t mean he didn’t hate it. It didn't mean it didn’t absolutely terrify him. But, knowing there was nothing he could do, he sighed audibly and left.

He started down Richmond’s streets, frustrated and irritated by their lack of progress with the teen. As he wandered, he slipped past the medical clinic, staring at the small grave beside it. It was a makeshift memorial for the child; the one Clementine placed knick-knacks at every day.

He paused, feeling a wave of pain wash over his chest. He stared at it, watching as the dandelions quivered in the wind, ignoring the sound of approaching footsteps behind him.

“Doing alright?”

He closed his eyes, feeling the guilt in his chest ease at the sound of his brother’s voice. “Frustrated.”

Javi settled a hand on the male’s shoulder, and David felt his muscles relax. The movement caused him to frown, realizing just how upset he actually was. “About?”

David turned, sweeping a hand over his face. Javi’s hand didn’t budge. “Clementine.” He hesitated. “AJ.”

Javi frowned, his grip growing slightly tighter against the male’s shoulder. He knew all about David’s guilt with AJ. Seeing the extent of Clementine’s grief after his death only reassured to David how wrong he’d been in taking the child from her.

How many years of sibling affection had he robbed from them? He had single-handedly caused her so much grief. Who knew if she could ever recover from that.

Javi parted his lips, attempting to offer some type of reassurance, but was cut off by a voice.

“Uh, can you guys lend a hand?”

The two turned around, spotting one of Richmond’s civilians behind them. While David frequently struggled with names, especially with members he deemed as being “unimportant,” Javi remembered everyone. “What’s up, Seth?” He asked, sliding his hand off his brother’s shoulder.

The male shifted uncomfortably. “It’s Clementine again. We need some help with wrangling her.”

Clementine throwing a fit was common at this point. After AJ’s sudden death, the teen had grown erratic — easily angered and bursting into tears at the drop of a hat — and often times other Richmond members didn’t know how to handle her. It wasn’t uncommon for Javi or David to walk her back to her room to rest, carrying on as though it never happened the next day.

But her needing to be restrained was new, and it was a new addition to her problematic state that sent a flurry of panic through the brothers.

“Wrangling her?” Javi asked.

Seth frowned. “She’s drunk and throwing a fit. None of us have ever seen her like this before.”

Javi looked down, jaw agape, horrified.

“That doesn’t make sense.” David furthered. “I was just at her room. She was there. She said she was,” his voice trailed off; realization washing over him.

In her room when she was ‘busy’ that’s when all of this had happened. She was getting drunk. She was self-medicating.

The brothers turned to each other, a mutual shared panic fluttering over them before frantically turning back. “Where is she?”

“The park.” Seth said. “She’s--”

But the two were already off, silencing Seth before he could finish explaining the situation their community found themselves in.

“Is this what she’s been doing all this time?” David heaved, running as fast as he could.

Javi, keeping up beside him, huffed before spitting out his answer. “That would be my guess.”

They didn’t speak further as they ran, too focused on reaching their girl before she did something drastic. By the time they’d rounded the corner to Richmond’s park, they realized they’d made it just in time.

Clementine was in an angry standoff with Eleanor and Kate, waving a drained whisky bottle in their direction.

“Get away from me!” She slurred out, squinting, her body stiff and harshly fixated on the blurry figures before her.

“Clem, we just want you to calm down.”

“I’m never going to calm down!” She snapped, hands flailing angrily. She almost lost her grip on the bottle, but was able to capture it. “Would you ever calm down if the person that killed your loved one was standing right there?” She snapped, jetting a finger in Eleanor’s direction.

The woman glared, crossing her arms defensively. “It’s not my fault AJ died, Clementine.”

“You chose to let him die.”

“There was nothing more I could have done.”

“You could have given him the medication he needed instead of preserving it.”

Eleanor glowered. “Clementine, he was a goner. There was nothing that could’ve helped him. Giving him that medication would’ve been a waste.”

“You--”

David darted forward, capturing Clementine’s arms before she had a chance to drunkenly swing in Eleanor’s direction. The almost-victim took a step back, staring at the teen blankly, watching as Javi and David worked to calm her down.

“Clem,” Javi reached over, removing the bottle from her hand and setting it on the ground. “What are you doing?”

“Getting angry!”

“Trust us, we know.” David snapped, his grip on the girl growing tighter. She squirmed until David eventually gave up, releasing his grip, watching her drunkenly fumble to the ground.

Eleanor turned, starting away before Clem had a chance to get back up. She did what she believed was right at the time and, no matter how angry Clementine was with her, she stood by her decision.

Kate wandered beside her, ensuring that Clementine didn’t try to scurry after them.

“Clementine, stop.”

She jumped up, albeit bitterly, watching as the two women wandered farther and farther away, completely ignoring David’s command. As she did so, Javi watched her with squinted, focused eyes. She seemed too alert to be entirely drunk; too hyper, despite her slurred speech. “Clem, have you had anything other than alcohol?”

“No.” She was using her lying voice. They both knew it, but the worst part was they didn’t want to know what it was that she had taken.

But they had a good guess.

“Clem--”

“Leave me alone.” She snapped, eyes wide and defensive, body stiff but wavering. Javi clamped his hands on her shoulders, pulling her closer, feeling a jab of pain in his chest as her gaze angrily slapped to his own. “Javi, let me go.”

“I need you to listen to me, Clem.”

“No!”

His grip tightened. “We love you!” He yelled, voice strained and squeezing in on itself.

After the outcry, the teen’s squirming and fighting eased. Her stare — now confused rather than angry — reached out to his.

“You’re killing yourself by doing this.” He said again, softer this time. Clementine would say it was more pained than before. “We can’t lose you, Clem. I can’t lose you. We need you.”

Her eyes continue to settle deeper into his. They were wide and watering, growing more and more heavy the longer they rested against his own. Soon, her gaze was hardly able to hold steady.

“Clem,” he began again, “we’re here to help you.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head, avoiding his gaze all she could. He cared, he was being so sweet and understanding, and she couldn't stand it. It was going to cause her to break down. She needed to avoid his stare.

But he was there, and his palms felt so reassuring on her shoulders, and he was speaking so softly — so sweetly — she couldn’t help but open her eyes.

“I got you, Clem.” He said softly, and she could swear she saw tears gathering on his waterline. “Let me help.”

She struggled, biting on the inside of her cheek to hold herself back, but couldn't. She was too fragile and hurt — too inebriated and lost — that a strangled sob slipped from her lips and entered the air. “I’m in so much pain, Javi.”

Immediately, Javi pulled her into his chest, pressing his lips to the top of her hat and sighing into the fabric. “I know.” He whispered.

David stood off to the side, watching the two with a deep ache in his chest. He stared at his brother, longing to meet his gaze. When Javi settled his cheek against the top of her head, they did.

Javi’s stare said it all; the warmth and the hurt bubbling up from underneath. They were going to help her, but not by shaming her. They were going to help her with warmth and understanding.

The girl pulled away, wiping at her face, sniffling and trying her best to compose herself. She turned, spotting David watching from a few paces away, and all three of them froze. The hand Javi had settled on her shoulder slowly slipped away.

David knelt down, cautiously moving one leg at a time as to not alarm her, and opened his arms. The moment that Clementine felt as though she had composed herself, she succumbed again. She darted forward, throwing herself into his arms, sobbing the entire way there. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight to his chest as she sobbed into him, stroking the back of her head.

“You’re okay, Clem.” He said gently. “You’re gonna be okay.” ---------♥️♥️♥️----------

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