Good Night, Good Luck: TWDG/Dying Light Crossover AU

Part Five: A Welcome Change Of Pace

Clementine's morning routine had changed somewhat in the last two weeks.
Before, she had been waking up in a camp filled to the brim with people, but despite that, she was always alone.
Now she woke up in a comfortable bed - her bed.
She lived in a full house, but even after just two weeks, it was already beginning to feel like home.
No more digging through trash, or risking her life in quarantine zones for a few dollars worth of tradable goods.
For the first time since Crane, she had friends, people she cared for.
The morning's routine was like any other: Clem rolled out of bed at first light, got dressed and prepared her gear, went downstairs to the kitchen and sat at the table.
Aasim was already up, standing at the kitchen counter scribbling into a book while something fried in a pan behind him on the stove.

"Morning." She greeted.

Aasim looked up and closed his book.

"Hey, up early again?"

"This is normal for me." She chuckled, "What's cooking?"

Aasim glanced back at the sizzling pan.

"Nothing special, just spam. I'm gonna toast that bread we traded for in the pan too, so it'll be almost like having a decent meal." He joked.

"Spam on toast, huh? I've definitely had worse."

There was a brief silence between the two.
In the time she had been living in the house, Clem hadn't really spoken to Aasim much. She felt bad, he was always the one up early so the rest of the group could eat.
Her eyes fell on the leather book that sat on the small dining table.

"What were you writing before?" She asked, pointing to the book.

Aasim regarded it for a second, leaning back against the kitchen counter.

"That's a project I've been working on for a few years now."

"Oh?" Clem replied, intrigued.

"Every day for the last five or so years, I've been keeping a chronicle of what happens every day."

"Like a journal?"

"I prefer to think of it as a history book. Even if something happens to me, my experiences are still in here. Hopefully one day, when all this shit is over, people can read it and understand what we all went through." Aasim explained.

"'When all this is over', I wish I had your optimism." Clem chuckled a little.

"You don't think it'll end someday?" Aasim asked.

"I don't know..." Clem sighed, "But it's been almost eight years and things aren't getting any better out there."

"No offense, but that's a pretty pessimistic outlook."

"I'm not a pessimist, I'm a realist." She retorted, "I doubt people are going to suddenly decide to work together to fix things."

Aasim shrugged.

"Maybe not, but things can't stay bad forever."

"I guess not, here's hoping, huh?" Clem replied.

The floorboards in the hall creaked and Violet turned the corner, stretching and yawning.
Her hair was a mess and the dark circles under her eyes were more pronounced.

"Hey." She mumbled, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Sleep well?"

Violet shambled to the kitchen and plopped herself into the armchair.

"Ha- no, I think there's rats in the walls or something, because they wouldn't stop making noise all fucking night."

"I didn't hear anything." Clem replied, shrugging.