AN; Well, I was looking around my story files, and I found this buried under some amateurish drafts. :) I thought, 'Why the hell not?' so I cleaned it up somewhat - not by much - (XD) and smacked it onto here. Anyway, while playing Episode two, (SPOILER; Ha-ha, Larry died) I got this little plot bunny from that scene where Lee has to hand out food. I noted that this was the one of the few parts where we see Duck and Clem actually interact, and naturally, I found it rather endearing. This is my first time writing TWD fanfiction, and I deeply fear that I might've written Duck slightly OOC, but enjoy it, I guess. Light Cluck, I guess, for all you romantics out there – Although all I see this as is merely development for a tragic friendship, and a little heart-to-heart for the children to cope with the hellhole they live in.
How the hell could I own the Walking Dead? This is Fanfiction. Net!
With haste, the eight-year old wiped the snot away as she crouched before her pencil-crayon drawings, the cool autumn wind forcing her wiry, black hair to brush the skin of her nose and cheeks, much to both the child's annoyance and her meager comfort. She wondered briefly if she was getting a cold, since back home this would be cold and flu season, but shrugged it off in the knowledge that it was a little chilly out. Currents of air carrying dead leaves threatened to swipe her numerous drawings from the last two hours away, but it still remained as a little breeze, and nothing more. The cold air seeped into her thin clothes somewhat, but it wasn't too bad, nor was the bumpy concrete of the Motor-Inn under her legs, though slightly uncomfortable. She brushed her bangs away, lamenting the loss of her hat as a cough rung from her dry lips. The young survivor felt her stomach growl again. She was feeling rather weak, but that was probably due to the fact it had been roughly sixteen hours since she'd eaten anything. All she could taste was in interior of her dry mouth was the autumn air. The entire world tasted of autumn, in all its decaying, cold harshness and fleeting food.
Oh well. If Duck was even marginally depressed by the bleak morning, he certainly didn't show it.
"-and then Robin! It was awesome, Robin just, like, SWOOPS in- Oh, bless you, Clem," he noted, choosing to acknowledge something besides his constant chatter for once.
"Thank you," whispered Clementine, lacing her fingers around her stubby, orange pencil crayon as she continued her drawing.
"Cool," replied the boy, pulling up his loose jeans somewhat. Duck had become slightly too thin for them as of late. Made sense, since he was malnourished. Ever since they'd ran out of food, everyone had gotten below their fair share of food. And while it may not have been quite so obvious for some, like Lee or Kenny, Duck was definitely suffering from this. Duck had already been a skinny boy, but now he was near skeletal in appearance, hollow cheeks and pale skin making him look almost like the Walkers up and about outside, his chipper grin and sparkling eyes being the only thing making it capable of telling him apart. His limbs were practically light, flesh-coated sticks, and his hair remained utterly unwashed in greasy locks. Still, somehow his eyes shined under his malnourishment, and he still somehow stood tall in his slightly oversized reddish T-shirt and growing hunger.
"S'ok. Well, anyway, so Robin comes in? Robin actually jumps through and kicks the Joker in the FACE! All before he can dunk Batman in the chemical-stuff, too! The FACE!" continued Duck, brown eyes shining past his freckled cheeks' clammy shade, "It was so cool! Then he starts fighting Killer Croc, and doing somersaults and stuff... Aw, me and Dad loved that comic... It's pretty cool, huh?"
"It does sound cool," murmured Clementine, half-listening to Duck's rambling about his comic books and paying the other half to her drawing. Truth be told, Clementine wasn't really an avid comic reader. She preferred playing with toys, or sketching, even though she wasn't very good at it.
"I think Batman's the best comic-book series ever," grinned Duck, ignorant of Clem's apathy and crossing his lean arms, "But then there's also the Flash... And Teen Titans... And the Avengers... ...And Spiderman... And X-Men... ...And Green Lantern... And Iron Man... Oh, and also Supes, since-"
Duck looked at her like she'd grown a second head. "You don't know Supes?!" he cried, "No way! You really don't know who Superman is, Clem?!"
"Oh! Superman!" realized Clementine, "I'm pretty sure I know who he is. Sorry, Duck. I just haven't heard anyone call him, 'Supes,' before."
"Well, my Dad calls him Supes," sneered Duck, crossing his arms in his slight pouty fit, "And fuck yeah you know who th' man of steel is!"
"Hey, no swearing!" called Carley from her tired position on the dust-infected couch from ten feet away, hazel eyes dripping with sleepiness and a lack of amusement, "Duck, do you want me to repeat what you just said in front of your mom?"
The boy turned beet-red. "NO! I don't like soap!"
"Then don't do it again," frowned the groggy reporter as she got back to her nap, submerging her weary eyes in sleep. Raising his shoulders to the tips of his ears in embarrassment, Duck turned back to Clementine, prior ashen cheeks now being a spectacular shade of rose.
"Almost got busted," he muttered to himself.
Clementine shrugged. "That's what happens when you swear. You have to be an adult to swear."
"Reasons like that are why I wanna grow up," grimaced Duck.
"Why? So... That you can swear?" asked Clementine, mouth in a upside-down U, "Lee said that being little is one of the best parts of a person's life."
"But Lee didn't have Walkers walkin' around when he was little," pouted Duck, "I wanna take some of those jerks down... They tried to eat me, twice! And Dad keeps saying I can't use guns until I'm older, either, which sucks!"
Clementine frowned. "Well, being little does sorta... Suck, when you put it that way..."
"'Course it does. So, what're you drawing, Clem?" asked Duck, changing the subject and crouching down to look at her sketch, "I can't see it good upside-down... Is it an alien carrot?"
Clementine's eyes momentarily sparked in anger. "No!" she pouted, "It's... It's an orange doing ballet..."
Duck's eyes widened briefly. Not out of fear, out of acknowledgement. That was a good sign, as Clementine had come to know over the last few months, that usually meant something clicked in his head.
"An orange?" he enquired, sliding himself over to beside the younger girl, "Oh, I see it now. ...Aren't you gonna give it a friend?"
"Hmm?" asked Clementine, turning to face her fellow child survivor. Duck remained fairly serious.
"Y'know, doesn't it get something to be friends with? Like a biscuit, or a frog, or something? At least... So it has someone to talk to?"
There was still room on the page. Clementine brushed one of her bangs away again and focused her grass-shaded eyes.
"I can draw birds ok," murmured Clementine as she doodled in a rushed, yellow bird near the walking orange.
Duck smiled, tips of his signature expression lifting the freckles on his ashen cheeks.
"Man, I really could go for an orange right now..." he sadly murmured, "Ugh, Clem, I'm so hungry... I could eat a person if I had to."
Clementine looked over her shoulder to see Larry working on the fence about twenty feet away from them, crinkly face in its typical scowl as he nailed the boards together, swearing occasionally. A small smile covered Clementine's face.
"I think Larry would, too," she joked. Within the time it took to blink, Duck was already laughing. If there was one thing to like about the boy, it was that he was quite easy to entertain. Slowly Duck's laughter broke down to soft chuckles.
"What's he doing, anyway?" he asked, looking towards the chubby senior, "HEY, LARRY!" he called out as loud as he could, much to the dismay of Clementine's ears, "WHAT'RE YOU DOIN' OVER THERE?"
Larry cursed as he accidently hit his finger with a hammer, and turned his portly frame to face the little boy. "BUILDING A FENCE TO PROTECT US FROM THE WALKERS, YOU LITTLE SHIT!" he barked back, wiping the sweat off his forehead.
"O-K!" responded Duck, before quieting his voice down somewhat to continue conversing with Clementine, much to her relief, "Gee, he swears a lot. I wonder why he's always so mean, Clem?"
Clementine shrugged. "He's not that mean to me... I'm not sure why. Lee told me that he's does that 'cuz he's seen a lot of bad things. He acts that way so no one hurts him."
Duck frowned in confusion. "But... I wouldn't hurt Larry," he defended, "Mom wouldn't hurt Larry. Or Dad. Or you. Or Lee. ...Or anybody! I wouldn't hurt Larry, ever. Not unless he hurt me, or Mom."
Clementine brushed away a bit of hair. "Um... Well, grown-ups are weird... And he is pretty scary sometimes..."
"I wouldn't let him hurt ya, Clem," confidently chimed the scrawny lad, "Won't let the Walkers getcha, either."
Something warm entered Clementine at these soft words of friendship. She smiled delicately as she set down the pencil crayon. "Thank you, Duck, that's really nice," she beamed. Duck scratched the back of his head as he sprawled out belly-up on the pavement, aloof, unaware grin smacked on his pale face.
"Yup, I'm always nice to my friends," he beamed. Clementine smiled at this and got back to her drawings, happy that Duck was officially a friend. She pictured them with Lee, Carley, Katjaa, Kenny, Mark and Lilly... Maybe even Larry all living happy in a little haven free from bandits and walkers, simply being cheery with full bellies and the sun shining every day.
Maybe they'd escape all this together.
A/N; Am I the only one who thinks these Clem and Duck would've made an awesome team if they had been given the chance to grow up together? Seriously, picture it; Teenaged Duck with a shotgun, and teenaged Clem with a pistol or two, both of them having an authentic and fairly warm friendship as they work to keep the other alive; Duck acting on impulse to keep them going, and Clem the acting on bits of logic to prevent their deaths. Not necessarily romantic, just an epic bond and a need to keep the other going, as they're all they've got. C'mon, how badass would it have been, really? But noooooo, Duck gets bitten, and Clem gets to be all by her miserable, traumatised self until the possible release of Season two. I just wish you had the option to save Duck and leave someone else for dead, just to spice up the story a little, y'know? Like, maybe I let Katjaa get bit, and help Kenny with Duck while he's depressed for episodes 4 to 5? Gah... I just hate the illusion of choice in games, it pisses me off. WHY GIVE CHOICES WHEN THEY DON'T MATTER, GAME?! I LOVED DUCK! XC
Ah well, whatever. Maybe I'll write more of these two in the future, I dunno. Thanks for the time you took reading this, I guess.