Thread by @LordDynamite__

"Sweet Like Peaches" - #twdgnsfw | Clementine x Nick

CW // Noncon, Underage, Manipulation, Breeding, Lolicon, Noncon -> Dubcon, Oral

Nick takes it upon himself, while locked in a shed to drink and drink until he can't drink anymore. (+)

Clementine tries to convince him to stop and to come back to the cabin with her, but he instead offers her a drink, and sees it as a chance to take advantage of the little girls nerves. Little do either of them know, she may end up liking it.

___

Running was the only option. Pete lost his life, and all Nick could feel was numb. The low thrum of his heart beating with the adrenaline propelled him forward, but it was Clementine who saw the shed. Small, petite hand latching onto his sleeve, she led him towards it,

towards safety. Somewhere in his mind, he knew he’d be grateful, but after losing another person he loved, he cared about, he felt empty. His stomach was a pit, leaving the contents of his dinner last night wishing to escape the confines of his stomach.

Once making it into the shed, they both fought to keep the doors closed, walkers groaned and cried, like the souls still trapped within them were begging to be freed.

The shed had enough light cascading through the broken and cracked window that Nick could see well enough around to notice boxes. Without warning, he backed away from the door and grabbed one of the boxes. “What are you doing?!” Clementine cried,

shifting her weight so she could push on both doors to hold them closed. It was evident she was terrified, tears filling her eyes at the idea of dying in a shed like this.

Nick stumbles forward, and drops the box in front of the door, pressing it as close as he can to secure that the door will stay closed. He stands in front of the door momentarily, eyes devoid of emotion. Clem’s hands dropped to her knees as she heaved for air,

the adrenaline starting to wear off left her tired. Shuffling backwards, debris from the floor tripped Nick backwards, and he haplessly falls into a chair. Clem lifts her head, hat shielding her eyes. “I’m… I’m sorry about Pete…”

Voice small, wary of what he may do out of anger. One too many times, she’s witnessed people react out of rage, so she stood still, hoping that he wouldn’t attack her. “Whatever.” Nick’s one word reply left a pang of guilt rotting away at her chest.

Cringing at the pain in his voice, she pulls her hands close to her chest, fiddling with her fingers. “…What… What do we do now?” She’s looking to distract him, worried he’s lost in his mind, too stricken with grief to do anymore. “Ain’t shit we can do…”

Mumbling, he leans forward in the chair, putting his head in his hands. “Fucking sucks…” Clementine winced, shuffling about to search through things. There were blisters lining the backs of her ankles and the heels of her feet were cracked and bloody,

but she didn’t have time to worry about that.

Rummaging through the shelves and other boxes, she found some rotten food that couldn’t be eaten, and then a few mason jars full of a strange brown liquid.

She hums in confusion, eyebrows knit together as she picks up one of the jars. “What’s that?” Nick’s attention was pulled towards her, dull blue eyes dimly lit by the moon peaking up over the tree line outside, shining through the window. “Uhm… I dunno…”

She shuffles towards him, extending her hand towards him. Nick snatches up the jar, roughly enough that it makes Clementine’s stomach tense, nerves forming a new pit in her stomach. ‘Run, just leave him behind, he’s not gonna be any help like this’ her brain screamed at her,

but she shook those thoughts out of her head. She couldn’t just leave him here to die. Nick unscrews the cap, and takes a whiff of the strange liquid. “Whiskey…” He grunts, before taking a quick swig, cringing at the bitter, sharp taste that burns his tongue and throat.

“…That’s the good shit.” He leans back in the chair, and continues to nurse the jar, his shoulders falling slack as he relaxes. Clem slides herself down onto the floor, leaning against the box that’s holding the doors shut.

If Nick’s going to drink himself to death, then she can get some shut eye. Letting herself doze off, she exhales and slips into dreamland.

Nick eventually got up from his chair, shuffling over towards the rest of the Whiskey, sliding down the wall.

Jar after jar, he opened each one and drank them down until there were only a few drops left. Three jars sat by his hip as he went to grab a fourth, hesitating for a moment. Pale eyes trailing back towards the sleeping form huddled up on the ground.

Scoffing, he throws the jar at the wall across from him. Glass shattering, and sending liquor raining against the ground. A soft gasp of fright leaves the girl, as she flinches awake from the crash. Nick ignores her, and throws one of the jars from beside him at the wall,

listening to it shatter. Hardened eyes trained on the damp wall; the smell of whiskey strong as it hovers through the room. Clementine climbs to her feet, and warily steps closer, staying a few steps away, so he doesn’t attack her. “Nick! Stop—They’re gonna hear you—”

Desperation pleads with Nick’s senses, but he just hefts a third jar at the wall, catching Clementine flinching at the sound. He reaches for another jar, and goes to throw it—“Nick! Please…” She pleads, tears welling in her eyes.

Dropping his arm slowly, he grunts and pulls the lid off the jar, taking a sip. “What is the point? …What is the point, if we’re all gonna die in the end.” Nick looks down into the liquid that fills the jar, the liquid honey that swirls and beckons him to dive deeper.

“I killed my mom. Shot her in the head… like it was nothing.” He sighs, shaky and hesitant, taking another swig. “So, what the fuck is the point of leaving here?” His eyes finally raise to meet Clementine’s.

“…You have family out there… People—People who care about you, you can’t just leave them! …What would they say if they saw you sitting here drink…drinking yourself to death?” Clementine tried to reason, lip quivering.

Nick lets out a humorless laugh, and looks down at the jar again; before holding it up. “Share a drink with me? Could be your last.” He watches Clementine hesitate, as she reaches forward. “C’mon, sit with me… We can leave soon, just… have one drink with me.”

She holds the jar in both her hands, feeling too small to be holding such a thing, but she obeys, slipping down to the ground, crossing her legs. “Alright…” She looks down at the liquid, eyes hesitantly trailing back up towards Nick, who was already grabbing another jar.

She waits for him to have it in hand, before taking a big gulp of the burning liquid. Her tongue and throat burn with the liquor, shivering heavily. Warmth pools in her stomach and she groans. “… That’s awful… Do you really like this stuff?”

Her mind is already fuzzy, looking at Nick who’s slowed down sipping. “Eh… It gets better the more you drink, go ahead, try drinking it faster.” He edges her on, something dark lingering in his eyes as he watches her.

Clementine brings the jar back up to her lips, taking another big gulp from it, cringing. “Blegh…” She groans, and furrows her eyebrows. “…Does it really get better?” Nick nods, “Yeah, just gotta drink some more and it’ll start tasting like candy.”

He takes a big sip from his jar, and grins. “How ya feeling?” She shakes her head, “…Funny… I feel funny.” She sets the jar down on the ground in front of her, and rubs her stomach. “Yeah… That’s normal.” He leans back, eyes still watching her.

Clementine eventually starts sipping on the whiskey again, and finds herself getting used to the strong burn. “I’m warm…” she whines softly, mind foggy. She finds that her vision is blurry, and unfocused.

“Really? It’s pretty cold out… Maybe you should take your long sleeve shirt off?” Nick had stopped sipping, finding this situation to be sobering. Clementine’s eyes are partially closed, and she nods. “Okay…”

Tugging her arms into the sleeves, she fumbles to take the undershirt off without taking off her t-shirt as well, whining when she struggles too much. “Ah kid… Lemme help.” Nick shuffles closer, hooking his hands under the hem of her shirt and tugs at it.

Without thought, she lifts her arms above her head, letting the shirt be pulled from her body. Her brain feels full of cotton, and she’s struggling to comprehend the situation she’s been placed in. Partially undressed in front of this grown man.

Her head lulls to the side, eyes peacefully closed. “Huh…” Nick’s eyes trail over her body. Her ribs are poking out from under her skin, clearly from being underfed, and she has small but perky breasts starting to bud. He leans back on his knees, and picks up the jar.

He pretends to fumble with it, spilling the last of the contents onto Clementine’s lap. “Oh fuck—Kid, I’m sorry, let’s get those pants off so you don’t get sick!” Nick makes no effort to hide his intention to strip her, not giving her a chance to think about it,

looping his fingers in the waistband of her jeans. “Oh… Gross…” She mumbles, eyes opening to see the liquid drenching her pants.

Nick helps slip the wet jeans from her legs, the liquid leaving trails down her legs. “Should get you all cleaned up, huh…”

His eyes narrow at her panties that are a few sizes too small, hugging her hips. They’re not that damp, the waistband has a few stains on it from the spilt liquid. “I don’t have any rags or anything to wipe up the mess…” Nick looks at her,

watching her struggle to keep her eyes open. “…Mmmn…” She groans softly, “’m sleepy…” Nick nods, and pushes her back. “I’ll take care of you, kid… Heh… Don’t worry…” Clementine’s body had some bruises and scrapes lining her flesh, yet her body was hairless.

She whined at the cold air brushing over her body, the shed didn’t have any heat in it, leaving her shivering. “Don’t worry… Ugh—We’ll get you warmed up soon…” Nick’s hands found their placement on her waist, squeezing her soft flesh.

Her bones were prodding at his fingers, but he slipped his pinkies under the waistband of her panties and slid his hands down slowly. Her eyes shot open and she tried to sit up, gasping, “Nick? Wha—What’re you doing?” Her voice is slurred, stumbling over words.

Eyelids drooping and trying to close, she still grasped at his wrists with her small hands. “Shh…” He mumbled, pulling one of his hands from her panties and placing it on her chest to push her back down. “Just lemme have this, kid… don’t fight.”

He was clearly still drunk, not really controlling his pressure, a bruising press into her chest to hold her down. His other hand slips to the center of her panties, fingers brushing along her stomach as he tugs the fabric down her hips.

The cloth rolls into itself and drags harshly over her skin as she squirms. “Stop… Stop!” She does her best to fight, body refusing to listen to her as she tries to struggle back into control. Her muscles fight her brain, refusing to cooperate with her mental demands to fight.

‘Please, move, move’ her mind screams, yet she can only weakly push on his wrists to try to free her chest as his hand slips between her lithe thighs to cup at her mound.

“Just hold still!” Nick grumbled, slamming Clem back down into the concrete flooring, alcohol still firmly holding his mind. Her skin was pliant and plush under his cold fingers, ghosting over lightly freckled flesh. “…My God…” He mumbles to nobody but himself.

He hadn’t seen a body like this since he was closer to her age, his unnatural attraction always led him away from having a normal relationship, but with the world in such major disarray, he felt no need to shy away anymore, especially with his mind so fogged with alcohol.

Weakly pushing at his hands, tears slip down her cheeks, “Stop… ‘m cold and dizzy… You’re scaring me!” She tries to reason with him, but he’s driven and stubborn. “Shut up…” He grumbles, slipping his finger between her virgin slit, rubbing over unexplored territory.

Thighs twitching softly in surprise, she whines; the subtle pressure in her stomach twists and turns, forcing her core to grow wet. A deep pulsing within her stomach spreads tingles throughout her nerves, the alcohol benefiting the situation more than it should.

Nick groans and leans down, pressing his lips to her neck. “God… You smell just like her…” Peach and vanilla bundled together, grass and leaves and the Sunshine that encases the world on a beautiful sunny day. Just like his mom, so much like her.

The curled hair that was always hidden under the curve of a straw hat. Soft skin littered with freckles that almost glowed with the sun shining on them. Teeth that were so perfectly imperfect, because they reminded him of her.

Clementine was far enough away from who his mother was, that he could distance the mommy issues he had stirring the blood within his groin, but she had all the perfect things he’d loved about his momma.

His finger presses against her hole, prodding at the warmth within.

“Relax…” he mumbles, leaving soft kisses over her neck and chest, her soft cries echoing off the walls. “You want it to feel good, right? Just relax…” Through the fog, she understands that he can make it feel good with those words,

so she releases her hands from his wrist that pins her, and falls limp, arms loosely collapsing to the side. Her bottom lip quivers without hesitation as warmth floods through her body from the finger that nudges the button full of nerves that keep her mind full of need.

He huffs the soft scent from her body, sweet cascading over her skin as the alcohol makes the room spin. His finger pushes through the opening, slipping into her tight, wet hole. The velvety walls throb under his prodding inspection, and he considers just slipping his cock in,

but she’s being so good; he didn’t want to hurt her too badly. Curling his finger to prod at her g-spot, she whines and cries. Her lips quiver and tears slip down her temples into her hairline. Her hat had long since been knocked off, lost somewhere beyond Clementine’s reach.

Nick grunted, a second finger added to the wet hole, his other hand finally releasing Clementine’s chest and fumbling with his jeans. There was an unspoken humiliation with Clementine being nude and Nick being fully dressed, yet her brain couldn’t comprehend the difference.

She was still being touched without her permission, Christa had long since taught her about men who did these things. She’d explained it was a power dynamic, a need to be bigger and stronger than someone else.

Clementine had never liked those thoughts, those fears that someone would hurt her just to feel stronger. She could never quite wrap her head around it.

The sound of pants unzipping brought her from her mind, the panic settling back in.

A small sob escapes her lips, but without the hand holding her down, she found herself with a newfound need to escape. Her hand caught the edge of a jar that was sitting nearby, and knowing that from Christa’s teachings that hesitance will kill her,

she reaches for it and smashes it over Nick’s head. A few smaller shards of glass stick in his hair, and leave a fine line cut on his cheek, but otherwise he’s only deterred. During his moment of shock, Clementine scrambles backwards,

her naked form knowing she doesn’t have anywhere to go outside the shed, so she searches for a weapon to defend herself. Her arms and legs fight in a frenzied attempt to secure her safety away from the man previously defiling her virgin body, but with a hand on his head,

he grasps her ankle, pulling her back towards him. The concrete scrapes at her back and ass, leaving bloodied scrapes along her flesh. Blood drips from his cheek, the droplet splashing onto the hard floor, as he struggles with her fighting body.

Her limbs flail wildly as she cries loudly, the banging on the door starting back up. Walkers were just another threat, but they were easier to kill than a real human. Her mind was racing, but a bloodied hand cups over her mouth.

Hushed words that grace her ears yet aren’t fully heard leave Nick’s mouth, but all she can hear is her heart throbbing in her chest. “Shut up! Clementine, stop!” He whisper-shouts, trying to quiet her down. Her cries were muffled as her throat strained with the cries of help.

His hand grasped her face and slammed her head back into the concrete, disorienting her. Soft cries fill the empty air, the pain resonating through her skull.

Nick grunts, as he fiddles with his pants and boxers to free his cock, mumbling swears.

“Fuckin’ kid…” He frees his semi-hard cock from it’s confines, the freehand stroking it slowly. Just the thought of filling out a virgin girls sweet pussy with his cock makes it throb in his palm.

He was average in size, only 7 inches in length, the girth was nothing to write home about, but it was enough to fill out her insides. Her virgin cunt was wet from the alcohol and stimulation it had before, unable to control her body’s reaction to anything, shame fills her chest.

The urge to throw up crashes into her body in waves of nausea, unable to think about anything further with the urge to lose what little food she has, yet nothing comes from it. The food remains in her stomach, but her chest burns uncomfortably;

acidic aftertastes left in her mouth like the alcohol is touching her tongue once more. Nick doesn’t see the internal struggle she’s suffering with, as she fights the urge to puke, stroking his cock along her slick folds in a lame attempt to lube up his length.

“You’re gonna feel good if you’d just fucking relax…” Nick tries to argue, speaking through grit teeth, all while he’s humping at her naked crotch with his cock.

Clementine lets out small groans and whines, still heavily muffled by the strong hand that holds her mouth.

Nick grunts, pulling his hips back and directing the tip of his cock against her opening. Her lips spread open around the head. She cried, and flailed her legs, but was quickly slammed back into the floor again, not hard enough to knock her unconscious but an obvious threat,

telling her to be quiet and still. Her legs were forced to spread further around his waist, to accommodate for his body between them, as he laid his weight down into her. Burying his face in her thick, unruly curls, he took this chance to breathe in the soap she used.

They had running water back at the cabin and offered her the chance to get cleaned up, so she smelt heavenly.

Pain sends vibrations and zaps through Clementine’s nerves; her whole body feels like it’s lit ablaze. Nick takes no chances, slipping in as much as he can as he huffs.

“So tight… God, you smell like peaches… what a sweet—” he groans as his cock kisses her cervix, “fucking hole, you’ve got…” His words felt dirty on her ears, like thousands of fire ants were crawling over her skin and stinging her every chance they got.

There was a pain in her belly, deep and throbbing with each movement. His hands found the backs of her thighs, hiking them up so her body was almost folded as he used the hold he had as leverage.

He pulled her into him with each thrust, his cock head leaving brutal kisses on her cervix. She was so small, you could see each thrust in her belly, but Nick wasn’t looking, too enamored in the curls he was buried within.

Every thrust was met with a sob from her, unable to stop her body from clenching and throbbing around him.

He leaned back, staring down at her disheveled body beneath him. Her usual neat hair now framed around her head and face, sweat plastered to her face and hair.

Her arms were splayed next to her head, too weak to move them to fight anymore. Her tummy was folded, giving the illusion that she had some meat on her bones, small rolls formed where she was bent.

Her eyes were shut, screwed tight refusing to see what was happening to her, lip still quivering with each cry and whine. Nick released one of her thighs, letting it rest against his hip loosely, before reaching down between her folds to find her clit.

Using his thumb, he rubbed it in fast side-to-side motions, taking in the view of her body arching underneath him. “My God… Aren’t you a sight…” He breathed, sweat dripping down his face. Releasing her other leg, he groped at her chest.

Rough, calloused fingers tweak her nipples; pinching and pulling at the supple mounds without regard for her feelings. Rolling her soft nipple between his thumb and forefinger, he grunted. “You’d look so sweet with these swollen and full of milk…” He grunted,

“You get your monthlies yet?” He stills his hips, cock buried deep within her sore cunt. When he got no reply, he tapped her face with his hand. “Hey—Answer me when I’m talkin’ to you.” He spoke softly, yet there was still a threat in his tone.

Slowly, her eyes fluttered open, hesitant to take in the view before her. “Wh--…What?” Her voice was so quiet, lips wet from her crying. “You get your monthlies yet?” He repeats his question, expecting her to just understand those words.

She shook her head softly, tears slipping down her temples again. “No…”

“A shame…” eyes staring down at her, he gave her a lopsided grin, “Maybe we could do this again…” He locked his fingers around her throat, holding her in place; not quite choking her.

“You’d make a good momma, a bit young but I think you got it in you.” He rolls his hips into her. Exhaustion has taken hold of her body, entire being limp, pliant to his abuse. Nick rolls his thumb over her clit over and over again,

shivering in pleasure with her throb from the depths of her cunt. She continues to clench around him, whimpering with each slow and deep thrust. Lazily, he rolls his hips into her in an off-beat motion, kissing into her cervix with each movement.

His balls lightly tapping against her bare ass cheeks could make her cringe with the lewd and embarrassing sounds that follow. “C’mon… let out those noises, don’t be shy.” Nick breathed, leaning closer to her ear.

He didn’t have a naturally charming or soothing voice, but his low tone left a shiver running down her spine. All she could do was whimper, her vocal cords vibrating helplessly under the hand that was starting to crush her windpipe;

only to be relieved seconds later when he pulls the hand away to slam it into the floor by her head. She cries, gasping for air after her brief lack of oxygen left darkness starting to cloud around the edges of her eyes.

Nick grunted, the tightness of her cunt felt like heaven, the pooling slick dripping down her ass cheeks and coating his cock left a wet “slap” noise sounding through the room.

Clementine felt good. Her body was burning with the alcohol and pleasure, shamefully whining into Nick’s shoulder, arms remaining loosely strewn to the sides of her head. Nick found one of her hands, interlocking their fingers, her hand was so small in his,

his thick fingers encasing her small hand. The banging on the doors has mostly ceased, leaving them alone for the mean time. His thrusts are slow and deep, a bit off rhythm; the alcohol in his system only helping him with the confidence, not the pace.

Her body reacted with his, clenching and throbbing around his length, leaving her breathless and needy for more. The shame that fills her stomach is twisted into a need for more, the alcohol that’s poisoning her brain telling her it’s alright to feel good.

Her mind has never been fuller yet felt so empty, stars dancing behind her eyelids from the pleasure. Her legs find their footing, wrapped around his waist, encouraging him to continue, the thrusts getting rougher. Her body is rocked into the floor with each thrust,

but as the two become more comfortable, it starts to feel like it was consensual from the start. Nick glides his hand under her body, caressing the small of her back to help arch her body into him, his cock is able to hit a rather favorable spot deep within her.

A loud whine leaves her lips, unable to from a coherent moan. With each thrust hitting that newfound spot, her arms find themselves wrapped around Nick’s neck, clinging to him. Head buried within the crook in his neck, her little sounds vibrating against his skin.

She isn’t sure quite when she let her guard down and gave into the intense feelings that send shivers down her spine, but at this point she can’t be bothered. Nick groans, his cock throbbing deep inside her, and aided by the alcohol he can feel his end nearing.

Her hole caresses his cock just right, it feels like she’s trying to hold him deep inside her, her legs helplessly squeezing around his waist and tugging him back inside. His hand presses into the small of her back, pressing her up into him again, fingers digging into her skin.

“You smell so sweet…” he grunts, his hand slipping from behind her to her hip, as he picks up the pace. Their bodies meet over and over again in a off beat cacophony of lewd noises. Off beat thrusts become more unsteady as his ending neared,

balls clenching with the load of cum that pumps into her newly not-virgin hole. Hot seed painting her unfertile walls white, yet she’s yet to finish, body aching for that final climax. Her stomach’s sore, begging for something more to push her over the edge.

Nick stills, buried inside her and letting her cunt milk him of his seed for a short while. Slowly, his softening cock slips from her wet and properly bred hole. Unhooking her arms from his neck, he leans back to inspect the damage he’s inflicted onto her hole.

Clementine’s clit is hard and twitching angrily with need, peaking from under it’s hood and her hole is clenching around nothing as seed helplessly spills onto the concrete floor.

Nick taps her legs so she releases his waist, tired but needy, her cunt throbbing at the prospect of more attention like before. He slips lower to come face to face with her moist cunt, deciding it was the least he could do for her.

Laying his tongue flat against her abused hole, he laps at the seed-soaked cunt before him, swallowing the slick that’s missed with his own juices. It’s bearable enough that he doesn’t stop himself, lapping at her clit in long, even strokes.

Each flick of his tongue sends another shiver through her body, soft moans escaping her throat. Her hands blindly search for his hair, wanting to grasp onto something for some form of grounding, knocking his hat off she locks her fingers in his hair.

“Nick… Nick!” She cries, her orgasm quickly growing inside her stomach once again. The budding tension forms knot after knot inside her belly, only to be intensified by his fingers that slip into her hole. He latches his mouth onto her clit,

suckling at it as he curls his fingers inside her. The whites of her eyes become visible as she orgasms, a strangled moan comes screaming out of her mouth, almost sounding pained with how intensely her body quivers.

Nick slows down, but he doesn’t stop entirely, still gently prodding at her clit with his tongue. He slips his tongue down into her hole again, to collect more of her slick, her body trembling still. Her chest heaves with each breath, and her voice is tired,

“…my clothes…” she mumbles, half-open eyes searching for her outfit from before. There’s nothing to fully clean her up with, but she knew, even in her, now sobering, yet tipsy state that they needed to get out.

Nick leaned back, wiping his face with the back of his hand, drool and their mixed juiced dripping down his face and now smeared on the back of his hand evidence of what had just happened. He’d just raped this little girl, who he’d gotten drunk.

He leaned back onto his knees, reeling from his experience. Silence filled the shed, only broken by the sound of his zipper being pulled back up. She was still laid spread out before him,

a pathetic attempt at getting up that was long given up on when her legs refused to move when she demanded them to. Exhaustion had long since settled into her bones, leaving her weightlessly laying there.

Nick was all but sober at this point, but he was coherent enough to know he needed to clean her up.

Rummaging through the pile of her clothes, he pulls her panties from the pile and gets to work, wiping down her still soaked cunt.

He knew, logically, no one would ever check this shed without knowledge of something being inside nor would they recognize this little girls’ panties, but he still found himself stashing them behind a shelf. Either way, cum soaked little girls’ underwear wasn’t a great look.

He went on with shuffling to get her legs into her pants, struggling to fully dress her, but after many failed attempts, he had her mostly sorted out. He knew if he’d run,

he would get them far enough away from any of the dead to get them safely back to the cabin and all he could hope was that no one would notice the disarray of her clothes.

He wasn’t the best liar, but he could convince them it was because they’d been chased down by so many walkers.

Nick tugged Clementine up into his arms, holding her body close. He should have been worried about why she was so light, but his mind wasn’t exactly working on full power.

Using his foot, he slid the box away from the door, and once the door was open and he could get out, he sprinted. Nick didn’t so much as glance back, eyes focused dead ahead to get them back to the cabin safely.

There was nothing stopping him. Even when the nausea hit and he felt like he was going to collapse, he kept going.

His running paid off. It only took maybe 32 minutes to get back to the cabin while running. He was well past exhausted, but they’d made it back home.

Upon entering the house, he groaned, letting himself fall to the ground. Carlos and Rebecca were the only two sitting in the dining room, quickly throwing questions his way yet all he heard was ringing in his ears.

It took a few minutes for him to catch his breath and finally hear their worried shouts. “Where is my husband?!” the woman screamed, and Nick groaned. “How the hell would I know, Rebecca? I ain’t in charge of him!” Carlos sighed,

“Luke and Alvin went out looking for you two! You’ve been gone for hours—” “I told them not to go, it wasn’t worth the risk” Rebecca crossed her arms, worry creasing her eyebrows. “What happened to her?”

Carlos asked, calmly referring to Clementine who was long since passed out in Nick’s arms.

“We… Got locked up in a shed… Pete’s dead… We… We… there was alcohol and I got drunk and then I offered her some, and then we ended up getting’ wasted. I think she was scared that I’d get violent if she told me no…”

He mumbled that last bit, disappointed in himself, but Carlos just sighed. “You got a little girl drunk? What the hell is the matter with you?” Rebecca took her chance to belittle him, but he was already rolling his eyes.

“I wasn’t really thinking about her, I was thinking about how my uncle got ate alive in front of me and I couldn’t do jack shit to stop it.” Nick clambered to his feet, still drunk, “I’m gonna put her… somewhere, and then we’ll go and find Alvin and Luke.”

And with that, he set off to find a safe place to put Clementine, willing to leave her alone with Sarah. Sarah always wanted to be helpful, so he was sure she wouldn’t mind this task. Dropping Clem off successfully, the trio of adults set out with Carlos setting the rules as

“1. Don’t open the door to anyone and 2. Don’t announce that you’re here.” Simple enough, and Sarah was a smart girl.

He was sure they’d be fine. He was sure.

__ END __

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