First Shot

[dog_eat_dog]

[Everything changes with the bat of an eye.

While she registers the change immediately, it takes a moment to truly sink in. Tess finds herself in what could only be a dream –– she hasn't seen a bedroom so immaculate and new and utterly inviting outside of old magazines in decades, and she's certainly never slept in one. She's never even stayed in a hotel this nice, never had her own place with such crisp, perfect white linens. The very act of being in a well-kept bedroom is jarring and discomforting and panic-inducing.

The only thing that keeps her from outright panicking is the fact that she still has her handgun in her hands, her arms outstretched to point it at some invisible intruders, her finger laid against the side of the gun, ready to move to the trigger at a heartbeat's notice––

Seconds ago, there had been bullets, and Joel and Ellie's retreating footsteps––

There's an assortment of things on the dresser, a hairbrush that had likely never even approached anyone's scalp, a comb with all its teeth, a jewelry box that looks freshly polished––

There had been a throbbing in her chest and collarbone and neck, and––

No, no, the throbbing is still there, the collar of her shirt half-stuck to the mess that is her throat, and Tess could (and can) feel it almost thrumming under her skin, almost moving––

Tess backs up into a wall, her support hand leaving the base of the gun in favour of splaying against the immaculate paint. Purple. The walls are rich, warm purple, without so much as a hairline crack, and Tess is pressing the grime of her skin and clothes against it. She feels like she needs to apologize, even when there is no one around to apologize to.

She's alone here, almost. Alone as any host is.

She's not sure if she can "feel" the infection crawling under her skin because she knows it's working its way towards her brain so that it might kill her, or if there really are cordyceps tendrils spawning in her veins, winding through her muscle tissue and up her neck to her skull. Have they reached her brain yet? Will it hurt when they do?

Of course it's going to hurt, she tells herself, almost angrily. But Joel and Ellie are gone, and oh thank god, Joel is gone, Joel doesn't have to see this, and there are no soldiers to shoot her like a fucking rabid dog, and it's just her and the gun and this immaculate not-quite-afterlife hotel room.

It was easy to maintain her composure when she had work to do and Joel to protect –– she couldn't let him see her die or turn or suffer, she had her pride and her obligations to her goddamn partner –– but now she's alone and she is going to become a monster if she doesn't put herself out of her own misery.

Tess fits the barrel of the gun to her chin.

Don't be such a fucking coward, Tess.

She pulls it away, takes a hard breath, and closes her eyes for a beat.

It's only been a few hours. You've got hours. Maybe twelve hours, or twenty-four, or maybe even forty-eight––

When she opens her eyes, they settle immediately on the window across from "her" bedroom wall. More importantly, they settle on what appears to be a distant city basking under a summer sun, and for an instant she thinks of being a teenager again, when she dreamed of backpacking across Europe. There were lots of pictures of little French cities all over the Internet, back then, cities that could still feel like quaint little towns despite their sprawl.

For a moment, she just stares in silence, and then she says:]


Couldn't pick a nicer fucking place to die, huh...

Comments

[rightchoices]

[ Lee sees that hand drifting to the holster. People were just as dangerous as the goddamn walkers, and he's on his feet in a second, hand against the bar. ]

Calm the fuck down, and don't you dare draw a weapon in the middle of this place, you don't know who you might hit. You just woke up in the middle of a castle and met me through a magic talking book. You really think it's that much more far fetched that I might not know what the hell it is you're talking about?

[dog_eat_dog]

Look, asshole. All I know is that I've got thirty-six hours at most. Probably less. Until I get that sorted out, everything else can wait.

Now.

[Her hand is on the grip of her gun, ready to draw.]

What the fuck infected you with that bite, and how did you cure it?

[rightchoices]

We called 'em walkers. I haven't heard of anything called cordyceps, but it's not as if we've had a lot of open communication with anywhere else since the dead started walking.

[ His eyes cut pointedly to her hand. ]

I'll answer whatever you want, but I'm not gonna do that until your hand is off that.

[dog_eat_dog]

[Tess isn't sure if she hates this guy or appreciates how he can get to the damn point without a gun actually being pressed into his gut.

But after a moment, she removes her hand, though she stays standing.]

Fine.

Talk.

[rightchoices]

[ Both of his eyebrows go up, expression suddenly wary. ]

Woman named Martel healed me. I can't say I know exactly how she did it, but she did.

[dog_eat_dog]

And you trust that it's completely gone? You're not a carrier? What did she do?

[rightchoices]

We're all carriers. [ Quietly, a little harshly -- and Lee shakes his head once. ] The bite kills you quick, but everyone comes back.

[dog_eat_dog]

No. I've lived with this for twenty years. There is only one carrier I've ever met, and she's immune to it. The rest of us, it's either be clean or be infected and die. There is no middle ground.

[rightchoices]

Then it works differently for you than it does us. [ It's shot back quickly, a little tersely. ] Congratulations. Can we sit down and finish our damn drinks, please?

[dog_eat_dog]

[She stands her ground.]

Who is "us?" If I didn't make it perfectly crystal clear, I don't exactly have time to beat around the bush.

[rightchoices]

And if I didn't make it perfectly crystal clear: people don't die here. My boy Ben got here covered in blood right after landing on a goddamn metal rod. He's fine, and you will be, too.

[dog_eat_dog]

If you didn't fucking know, the infected aren't really dead. They're hosts to a goddamn fungus, one that takes over their brain. Does this place count that under dead? Fuck, and I thought the people in Boston were ill-informed about the infected.

[She can't help but feel worked up with all this shit, and she starts to pace. It's a whole lot of nervous energy wound up under her fight instinct, making her feel pressured, ready to burst.]

When I say dead, I mean I'm going to put a gun in my mouth so I don't become a fucking monster. Does this place give a shit about that, or does "fine" include a blown-out skull? Answer that, asshole.

[rightchoices]

Hey, I'm not gonna try to stop you. But this place will bring you fucking back. I don't really give a damn if you believe me or not, but if you're gonna eat a bullet? I'd appreciate if you'd do it with your journal shut. There are kids here that don't need to hear that sort of shit.

[ She's worked up, and her nervous energy is making his hackles rise, his lips drawn back into a defensive scowl. Their sheer existence here is too much to believe, sometimes, and he gets that -- but the last thing Clementine needs is another death in earshot. ]

[dog_eat_dog]

[She talks to him like he's an idiot.]

Do you seriously think I want to make my own death a public spectacle? Or crazier, that I'm gonna buy that death isn't the end of it?

Besides... any kid still upset about the choices people make about their own lives are far too sheltered to survive in this age anyway.

[rightchoices]

[ Haaaa that's the one way to get his hackles to really rise, and Lee takes a step forward, toward her. It's not intentionally aggressive, or overtly threatening, but he's attempting to make a point -- he's serious about this. ]

You'll figure it out yourself. [ Sharply. ] And do yourself a favor: don't make assumptions about people you know nothing about. That little girl's been through more than anyone ever should, and held it together better than-

[ He cuts himself off with an irritated sound. ]

Enjoy your drink. If you take a bullet to the head-- soundproof the door. And when you're awake again, and ready to listen, my name's Lee. I'm not hard to find.

[dog_eat_dog]

[She doesn't back down –– she barely even breathes away from him, lifting her chin resolutely in defiance. The angry red and white pustules of infection are barely visible above her collar when she does so, but over the coming hours, she is sure they will creep higher and higher. If she's still around then, that is.

The thought of putting a bullet in his brain floats up in her mind, and she's sure there would be few consequences. After all, she'll be checking out soon, and life isn't precious in a society facing extinction in the next few generations. What would be the point of valuing something so fragile?

But he has a little girl.

Fuck it.

She looks away for a moment, and then back to him.]

Tess. Thanks for the drink.

[rightchoices]

[ Thank you for not shooting him, Tess. :') He holds his ground for a split second, before backing up and shrugging, holding his hands up - palms out - toward her. Drink untouched, he's heading for the door. ]

I'll see you around.

[dog_eat_dog]

[She doesn't even give that an answer, instead turning to her own drink –– and his –– to polish them both off.

She needs courage for what she plans to do next, after all.]