Young and Young at Heart (The Rewrite of The Walking Dead Game: S2) [TWDG/TWD]

29. Mending Fences

"None of the people here are my friends," stated Carlos in a defiant tone. "But, just sit there, and I'll treat you." Clementine took a seat in front of a bunch of various sharp tools laid out on a silver tray.

"Oh really? Now you'll help her?" asked Christa. "Is that why you left this place? They made you occasionally help someone?" Clementine leaned in closer to the silver tray, noticing it was clean enough to see her reflection, even in the low light.

"I left here because I didn't want what's happened to her to happen to Sarah," explained Carlos as he moved to a pair of lockers sitting at the other end of the container. "I can't believe George struck her." Clementine pushed the tools aside and picked up the tray, angling it so she could see her face in it.

"How is it you can be so scared for your kid, and so completely unconcerned with another?" asked Christa. "Does it not bother you at all what these people did to Clementine? What you did to her?"

Finally seeing her own reflection clearly, Clem was horrified. Blood was dripping down her face from her severely swollen nose. There was a huge red mark between her eyes where the gun had struck her. She could see the outline of Consuelo's hand where she had been slapped, and there was a cut on her forehead from where she had hit the pavement.

"Sarah's such a sensitive girl that these kinds of horrors would devastate her. If hurt too deeply she... she'd never recover," explained Carlos. "She's not like your girl. She couldn't handle—" The sound of the metal tray and its tools hitting the table startled Carlos and Christa alike. Looking at Clementine, they saw the young girl shaking in her seat.

"What... what are they going to do to us?" stuttered a sniveling Clementine. Christa leaned in close and put her arm around the terrified young girl.

"Well?" Christa looked to Carlos, angry and worried all at once. "What are they going to do to us?"

"They'll probably put you to work," answered Carlos.

"Doing what?" asked Christa.

"Whatever they need done."

"She's only nine, and hurt, and I'm pregnant."

"That means nothing to Carver. Nothing," stated Carlos in a certain tone. "Unless you have something unique to offer him, you're just another laborer doing his bidding. Don't believe that man's lies."

"And I should believe you?" asked Christa. "Considering what you've done, how do I know—"

"They were trying to kill me," recounted a shocked Clementine.

"What?" asked Christa.

"At the lodge. That woman, Consuelo, she was trying to shoot me because I shot off her thumb," explained a trembling Clementine. "And that man chased me down, and beat me up, and stepped on my neck, and I couldn't breathe..." Christa moved in closer and noticed an unsightly bruise across Clem's neck.

"Oh my God," whispered a horrified Christa.

"I don't expect you to trust me. But listen to me when I tell you, don't believe anything William Carver says."

Christa rubbed her hand across Clem's shoulders, trying to calm her. "Okay," answered Christa in a quiet voice.

"You should lean your head back," Carlos said to Clem.

"So what should we expect from these people?" asked Christa as Carlos gently wiped away the blood under Clem's nose. "Are they going to do something like this to her again? Or me?"

"If you do what they tell you, they shouldn't." Carlos placed a few small pieces of cotton in Clem's nostrils to stop the bleeding.

"Shouldn't?" repeated Christa.