Walking Dead Game Collection

"Things Came To Be"

Title: Things Came To Be
Characters: Kenny, Sarita, Clementine
Summary: The story of how Kenny and Sarita came to be.
Author's Note: I know this is late but I hope you still like it!
Requested By: jaydie-things
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How many days in? Nobody knew. Nobody was counting anymore. Nobody was keeping track so the news could report on it later. There wouldn't be anymore news. Or TV. Or coverage. All that was left now, was survival.
He had been holed up in an old diner for what felt like weeks. Once everyday he would get up, grab some packaged food and water from the stock in the back, would crouch down in the kitchen, and would remain there until sleep. He didn't move, he didn't make an effort to better himself or his condition, he just sat around. He had been for what felt like ages. Kenny had grown into being a man of routine.
Until, of course, he was greeted by a guest.
The door cracked itself open with a groan, whining floorboards echoing through the mainly empty building. Footsteps tapped against the ground and grew louder and louder with each passing moment.
Kenny finally looked up from the ground, tired and shattered eyes staring towards the kitchen door. He grabbed his knife that rested at his side and aimed it towards the door, daring anyone who lurked outside to come closer.
"Hello?"
His aim faltered.
The voice was soft; feminine. He wanted to say a tad anxious, but still firm. Really, who wasn't a little nervous these days?
A slim hand pushed against the beaten and chopped door, cracking it open slowly and hesitantly, as if creeping into a sleeping babies room.
His hand remained up and armed.
A female head slipped through the door, raven hair down to her shoulders and with brilliantly sparkling dark eyes which grew upon noticing the weapon. Lifting her empty hands up she side-stepped into the room cautiously, finally exposing the tattered but functional backpack resting against her shoulders. "Hey, I mean no harm."
His hand remained up.
He could see her expression crack as a hint of terror sweep over her. Knowing that at any moment a knife could be acutely aimed through her forehead was a daunting thought, one that haunted her every moment she stood in the vicinity. Moving slowly so he was able to watch each gesture she made, the woman lowered her backpack, setting in on the ground and kicking it to the side. "I didn't come to attack you."
His arm remained up.
Her hands counties to be lifted on either side of her head, her eyes glancing around the room. Not darting, only studying the surroundings she had been thrust into. The creaky fridge. The dirty dishes and cans. The absolute mess. "I have food if you need some."
His arm remained up.
"I got food."
"You won't have food for forever." She retorted. "Judging on the hum of that fridge it sounds almost empty."
Kenny raised an eyebrow. How she knew that, he had no idea.
She shrugged. "The emptier it is the louder the hum. Less food to muffle the noise."
There wasn't a lot of food left for him in storage. Right when he arrived he had transferred a lot of it to the fridge to make his daily walk less tiresome. So, he had to give her that, she was observant.
His arm lowered.
Her arms lowered.
She gave a rub to her clearly irritated shoulder and kicked her backpack towards him. "Food is in the bigger pocket. You can get it yourself." Clearly, he didn't trust her. She didn't blame him, but she refused to acknowledge it aloud. Meanwhile she started towards the fridge, cracking it open to see what she was dealing with.
Kenny unzipped the bag and rummaged through the cans. Beans, beets, canned veggies. You name it, she had at least one can of it. No wonder her shoulders were sore.
"Where did you come from?" He grumbled, tugging out a can of vegetables and setting it beside him refusing to loosen his grip on the back.
"South. I'm wanting to head up North where it's colder." Kenny froze, ears acute to what she was to say next. "It slows the walkers down, you know."
He remained silent for a moment, studying the woman before him as she wandered through his kitchen, studying supplies and the overall structure of the building. "Yeah, I know it." He commented in awe. In a world of bad-luck and misfortune, how had he stumbled into someone with the same plan as him? Or rather, how did they stumble into him?
She laughed. "Good. At least someone knows what's up." Her accent was sweet like honey with every word that she spoke. It was relaxing, soothing to stressed and depressed ears. She finally spun around to face him, a damp cloth in hand from where she had dipped it into the water bucket in the sink. Kenny used it the day he arrived to wash his face and hadn't touched it since. Carefully, the raven-haired woman began to wash her hands and forced the male a small smile. His appearance at the moment wasn't too great, after all.
"What's your name?" Kenny asked, rather abruptly. He needed to know after all. She was starting to interest him.
"Sarita." She hummed, wandering closer toward him and kneeling down, holding the tattered cloth out to him. Kenny looked at it, then back at her, and raised a brow. "To clean your face and hands." She said with a shrug. "Hate to admit it, but neither look too great right now."
Hesitantly, he took it, eyes studying her facial features the entire time. "The name's Kenny." He softly commented, slightly bitter knowing she was right. He had to admit, she was a sight for sore eyes. Composed and collected, planned and organized, stocked and packed. Not to mention that she wasn't exactly in bad shape.
"What's your plan?"
Her voice caught him off guard. He had finally tore his eyes away to wash his face and instead was greeted with a sweet voice to meet his ears.
He grunted. "Head North eventually."
"What's holding you back?"
"I like taking my time." Even though he wasn't looking at her he could tell she was furrowing her brow at him. She probably didn't buy it.
He would be correct. "Do you have a group?"
"Nope."
She hesitated. "We're both heading the same way. We might as well stick together."
He turns to her side, eyeing her up and down once. "Why should we?"
"Because two is better than one. And anyways, it looks like you could get some fresh air. Going alone isn't exactly an option anymore."
He shot a glare.
She resumed despite it. "We're going the same direction anyways. It would help the both of us out if we stick together."
Kenny paused, watching her gestures carefully as she cracked open the can he had selected and handed it to him. Then, popping out a spoon from her bag.
She was prepared. He liked that in a group member. Not to mention they had the same plan. Another positive.
"So, what do you say?" She asked, orbs locked onto his hesitant and curious ones.
He wouldn't admit it, but maybe talking to someone as prepared and on the same page as he was could help him break out of this rut he felt like he was trapped in. He took a scoop of vegetables, popping them into his mouth. "What the hell. Why not."
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"Woah, Kenny. That's crazy." Clementine breathed, turning towards him in her seat.
Kenny glanced towards the fire that sat before them, watching the flames dance in front of his eyes. "You know what's crazier?"
Clementine shook her head, eyes widening in interest.
"How much I still absolutely adore her."
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Original Link: http://thatglitterygeek.tumblr.com/post/139585963897/walking-dead-game-fanfiction-things-came-to-be