The Bell Tower

Eight-Shot

Violet shifted the car into neutral and pulled up on the hand brake just like Clementine had taught her. She untwisted two of the wires that were popping out of the console Clementine had torn open, breaking the circuit, causing the engine to shut down. As the car stuttered to silence, a heavy quiet fell over the two. Violet looked over at her wife, she wasn't sure what she could say that could fill the weighty air around them. Were there even words for something like this? If there were Violet didn't know them, so she kept her mouth shut and pried Clementine's tight grip from her shirt. She intertwined their fingers and used her free hand to rub comfortingly up and down her arm, waiting for Clementine to speak up whenever she was ready.

An immeasurable amount of time passed, but Violet was in no hurry. Clementine had been patient with her when she had been teaching her to drive and this was something a lot harder to grasp than a manual transmission. To pass the time she let her gaze wander over the house. It was large, but in a homey way, not overly flashy. The kind of house Violet always dreamed about living in when she was young. All the families that lived in those kinds of houses, just down the street from her trailer park, always seemed so happy.

Now that Violet was older and close to Louis, someone who had grown up in a house way bigger than this one, she knew money didn't buy happiness...but still, she couldn't help but think that if her mom hadn't had to work all the time, things would of been better. If her dad wasn't so stressed out working his low paying factory job, maybe he would have drank less. Maybe having too little money strained her parents marriage and her relationship with them, but too much money strained Louis's? Had Clementine's parents earned just the right amount that equated to a happy life? Or did money have nothing to do with it? Maybe it was just because Clementine's parents were better people, that Clementine was a better person...

The stagnate air in the car moved slightly as Violet shifted in her seat. She tried to shift her thoughts too. Trying to imagine ways that she and Clementine could have possibly met had the world they once knew never come to an end. Maybe Clementine would have been sent to Ericson's as well, she had a rough side to her after all. Violet tried to picture her as a loud mouthed musician who didn't take crap from anybody.

No, Clementine wasn't troubled before the walkers, her troubles came after. Maybe the brunette would be sent to the same Summer camp Violet had attended as a kid, they could have a Summer love that blossomed into something more.

She sighed, it wasn't likely they would have met had the apocalypse never happened.

Violet looked over at the brunette, she could only imagine what was going on behind those brilliant eyes. They showed a depth that Violet hadn't seen before. They were wet with tears, but even though they had been sitting here for a while, she had yet to let them spill over her lids.

Finally Clementine moved, it was so sudden that it took Violet by surprise, she released Violet's hand and pulled open the car door, standing on the driveway for the first time in years. Violet hurried out of the driver's side door and jogged around the car so that she could grab her wife's hand again.

"This is surreal." Clementine spoke up, voice soft, almost reverent.

"I'm sure... are you-are you okay?" Violet asked hesitantly, releasing her hand, needing to be closer, opting to slink her arm around Clementine's waist, holding her tight.

"You know... I think I am?" Clementine laughed slightly, wiping at the unshed tears that distorted her vision.

Violet pulled Clementine into her chest and held her firmly, "It's weird, I feel like I should be crying?" Clementine rested her head on Violet's shoulder, speaking in the blonde's direction, "This house carries so many memories of the way things used to be, I was happy then and that life's over... Seeing the house in such disrepair is a rude awakening of all that."