Andy's Apple Farm: Oneshots/short-stories

Orphan Black. (4/4.)

Disclaimer: I don't own Andy's Apple Farm (Video Game). I don't own the picture (cover). Or the song.

(qwertuno and SilentReadersMatter)

(Inspired by Clementine and Alvin Junior (AJ) dynamic from Telltale Walking Dead: The final season. Andy is a child in this, around the age of five or six. Peter is a teenager around fifteen years old.)

(Also, Melody is around ten and also a child in this AU.)

(Hope you enjoy.)

"You're a kid taking care of another kid."

Peter sat on a couch inside the mole woman's house. Patching up his precious injuries, she refused to let him out of her sight after the fight with Felix ended up him having a sprained wrist.

Fair really.

"I've been taking of him since he was around two or three years old." Peter mumbled absently, eyes averting to the window. "Can't help that I became a...big brother."

He couldn't bring himself to use the word parent. The term sent a shiver down his spine. Peter considered Andy as a little brother. Son sounded like he had a one night stand and managed full custody.

"Well, you been taking very good cared of him. He seems to like you a lot." A dark looking crossed Margret's face, eyes darkening like the shadows momentarily. "I wished we hadn't left behind our own little one. But we had to so we could save his life from the consumed."

In a way, Peter understood her reasoning. In another, he found it utterly bullshit. They abandoned the child. Left him to die at the side of the road and expected to all in his own.

If Peter hadn't found him, Andy would be dead.

"Abandoning him is okay?" He felt the beast stirring within. "He's your child. THE ONE WHO YOU ABANDONED?"

Margret stilled as she patched his arm. Eyes darkening once more, she simply wrapped the bandage and smiled to cover up the pain.

"We had to do what was best."

"Yeah." Peter stood off the couch. "For you. Andy nearly died because of you selfish assholes."

Peter suddenly began walking forward. Margret backed up until she hit the wall. He cornered her and swiftly placed each arm on the side of her head. Blocking and pinning her in place.

She couldn't move unless he decided otherwise.

"He isn't your child. Andy is mine." Peter hissed possessively, hand tightening and forming a fist just next to the head. "I never had parents teaching me or raisin' me knowing right from wrong. I'll be dammed if another kid's going through the same shit I did if I can help prevent it beforehand."

Margret couldn't deny his claims. They all left the boy to fend for himself at the side of the road and his current guardian clearly didn't trust anyone, even himself by what she could tell by his tense shoulders and hand reaching for his knife. Eyes fuelled with unnatural rage at the world for putting him and child in their struggles to live.

An orphan.

Someone willingly abandoned the child. Fending for himself all his life, he must've become used to only relying on other sources for food and comfort (mostly self-comfort). As the unspoken mother figure of the group, duties to take care of the others and help around the farm came before anything else. Sometimes even the health of the others.