Carl remembered Clementine's outburst from the previous day, grateful that she'd killed the walker without anyone having to intervene. It wasn't just that he didn't want to deal with another outburst, but he also didn't want to see the emotional hell she was in to become public knowledge. Clementine had made it perfectly clear from day one that she did not enjoy being pitied. They'd all understood; none of them liked it much either, and Carl knew that people's attempts at helping her would just backfire completely.

Even then, how could she go through all that alone? Even when the prison had fallen and the group had been split, he hadn't been alone. But Clementine had been alone for God knew how long before she'd found Alexandria, and had isolated herself for days. The only person who came close to truly understanding her (as far as Carl knew) was Enid. But if Enid couldn't help her through whatever problems she had, then what hope was there?

The hopelessness of the entire situation seemed to sap Carl's energy completely, and he wanted nothing more than scream out and break a window in frustration. Had common sense escaped him, he probably would do just that.

They raided the rest of the stores, picking up only a few worthwhile items. Mitch found the entire affair dispiriting; they'd have to start going out farther to find anything worthwhile, which meant venturing into territory that was relatively unknown. He was a foreigner and knew nothing of the U.S, and while he was too proud to actually admit it, he was scared of the world around Alexandria.

He closed the trunk of the car, scoffing the unremarkable amount of supplies they'd scavenged, when a snarl came to him. The first time he'd heard one of the biters, he'd been terrified, but now they were just mundane. He turned around, his knife ready, and spotted the snarling corpse. What made his heart sink was that, in life, this one couldn't be older than four years or so.

His drew in a deep breath, then relaxed when he saw that Clementine was closest. Then his relief turned to confusion; she was just standing there trembling and gasping as if struggling to breath. When Mitch leaned forward to see her face, he noticed that she was holding back tears.

Clementine drew her knife as the child biter advanced on her, but her hand was shaking so furiously that she was certain to miss. The biter snarled and grabbed at her, but she made no effort to kill, only holding it back as it snapped at her.

Mitch stepped forward to kill it, only for Carl to rush past him and do the deed himself. When the biter fell to the ground, Clementine simply stared for a moment before walking quickly back to the car.

The drive back to Alexandria was the tense affair Mitch had hoped to avoid. While nobody said anything, they could all hear the occasion quiet sob that she let out, despite her best efforts. Mitch didn't dare say anything. Nobody did.

That was probably for the best.

Clementine didn't even stop to help unpack the worthless pickings they'd found. Had there been a bigger load to carry, Carl would have been irritated, but today he gave her a free pass. He watched as she trudged back to the house, her head down. He tried his best not to speculate, but her behavior out there and her words yesterday were painting a picture that Carl couldn't tear his eyes from.

She couldn't have been a mother (or at least Carl hoped not), but perhaps the child had been a brother or cousin or other relative. She'd never let slip a single detail about her family, or her old life, so it was possible.

Carl shook his head and tried to banish the topic from his mind; that was Clementine's business, not his.

"Carl," Glenn said as the three of them carried the supplies into town, "what's going on with Clementine? She just froze up out there."

Carl hesitated. "I…don't know," he said truthfully. "She hardly talks to anyone else. A few of the other kids think she's going to leave any day now."

Glenn frowned. It was a conflicted look, one that appeared on his face when neither option was all that appealing.

"Hasn't Rick or Michonne at least tried to talk to her?"

"They've tried, but Enid's the only one she ever opens up to."

Warning bells were going off in Carl's head. I shouldn't be telling him this, he thought. But for some reason he kept going as he remembered something.

"She always goes really quiet when Judith's around. Anything to do with children seems makes her tense," he told Glenn, then immediately wished he hadn't said it.

"Carl," Glenn said in a low voice, letting Mitch go ahead of them, "you don't think she…"

"Had a kid?" Carl finished. "I don't think so, or at least I hope not. Did she have a younger brother or a cousin or anything?"

"Not that I know of," Glenn said. "When I was with her group in Macon, she was just with this guy…I don't think he was her dad. They didn't look alike or anything. But she never mentioned a brother or anything.

"Anyway," he said, "we shouldn't pry. She'll share when she's ready."

If she's ever ready, Carl thought silently.

Clementine didn't go back to the house; right now, not even Enid could comfort her. She hid in the bushes by the gate until Glenn, Mitch and Carl had disappeared, then climbed onto the platform where she'd almost fallen the previous day. She looked down over the other edge of the wall. It was a long drop, but Clementine was certain she could land safely, although she wouldn't be particularly bothered if she got hurt.

The force of the impact would leave a couple of bruises, but she was otherwise fine. Wasting no time, she sprinted into the woods, no longer caring if she was running right into a herd of walkers.

Eventually she became too tired to run, and sat down against a tree trunk, panting hard and unable to keep the tears back. Every time she had hit a low point and broke down, she'd eventually get back up and keep going. She'd always held on to hope that she could eventually learn to live with all the people she had let down.

But she was tired of it. It was all just a repeating cycle of burying her feelings and then breaking down when they resurfaced. She couldn't keep going like this, living in this endless cycle of being broken and putting herself back together.

She'd dared to hope again when she came to Alexandria, but she now realized that it would all be the same as Wellington. Her turmoil would get in the way, and everyone would suffer for it.

She couldn't let that happen again. She was done hurting people.

"Go on, then," someone said. "You have the gun. End it, you wimp."

She recognized the voice, and nodded in understanding. She knew what she had to do. It was the only way to stop hurting people.

She brought the gun out of her pocket, feeling numb as she stared down the barrel. Her hands shook violently, and she felt sick to her stomach.

Go on then!" the voice urged her. "Do what you should have done years ago!"

"I c-can't!" she said aloud as she tried in vain to steady the gun.

"You're a coward. So many people have died for you, and all you do is get people killed. You selfish-"

The gun went off, but all Clementine could register was a ringing sensation in her ears. She might have screamed, but she couldn't be sure. All she knew was that she wasn't dead.

She felt hands on her, and began to kick and struggle; she wouldn't let it end this way, being slowly devoured by a walker.

A sound managed to come through the ringing, but it wasn't a walker's snarl. It was a voice, an accented voice.

"Clem, stop! It's me!"

"Mitch?" she gasped, sitting up against the tree trunk and shaking. Her shirt clung to her with sweat, and her hat had tumbled off at some point.

"What are you doing here?!" she snapped at him, making him recoil. "Just…just go back to the Safe-Zone and tell them I'm not coming back!"

"Where will you go?" Mitch asked.

"Nowhere," she snapped, reaching around for the gun. "Where's the…"

Then she spotted it, in Mitch's hand.

"Mitch," she said, her voice a low growl, "give me the gun, now."

She stepped forward, and Mitch stepped back. "Come back to the Safe-Zone. We'll help you."

"You can't help!" she ranted at him. "Don't you get it? You don't know what I have to live with! You don't have to think about all the people you've hurt! You've got a brother and sister to go home to, and what do I have? Nothing!"

She picked up a nearby stick and threw it at him in frustration. "Go back to Alexandria and leave me-"
A shot rang out, the bullet impacting just above Clementine's head. The both ducked and scrambled into a nearby ditch for cover.

"Where'd it come from?" she asked Mitch.

"Couldn't see," Mitch whispered. "It was from the other side of that clearing, I think."

Clementine peered out at the clearing from where the shot seemed to have come from. Whoever had fired must have been hiding in the trees, because she saw nobody. Looking around, she saw that the other end of the ditch was hidden by the trees.

"We can sneak back through the trees there," she said, pointing.

"Stay there!" A female voice barked from behind them. Clementine frowned; that voice sounded very familiar…

Just as it hit her, the woman behind her gasped and said, "Clementine? Is that you?"
Clementine turned around slowly, feeling sick inside, and uttered the woman's name.

"Lilly."