Walking Dead Game Collection 2

"Reading Lessons"

Title: Reading Lessons
Characters: Clementine, Nick, Luke
Summary: Nick realizes Clem barely knows how to read, so he takes it upon himself to teach her.
Author's Note: enjoy this tay-birthday fic from me to you!!
Requested By: simply_psychopath on Wattpad
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Nick hated his insomnia, but especially these days.

Knowing that Carver was out there, was looking for them, and was angry was already enough to freak him out, but on top of having a new, strange, possibly-bitten kid in the house? It made it even harder to try to relax.

He'd shaken off the concerns from Luke and Alvin, saying he wanted to take every night watch shift because it 'made him feel safer'. Nobody ever argued, of course. It meant they got to sleep. But they were confused, even slightly concerned, but not Clementine. Clementine was intrigued.

The child, frankly, felt the safest knowing everyone's schedule in the house. For at least the time being, they were strangers. She wasn't sure if she fully trusted them yet. Further than that though, she also had sleep troubles. Knowing that she might not need to be alone during the loneliest hours of the night brought her a flicker of comfort.

As much comfort as she could have with a bitter stranger, of course.

So, that night, when she sneaked out of her room at 4:47am, she wasn't surprised to see Nick there, in the living room, gaze cast mindlessly out one of the partially-opened windows. He would go from glancing out the blinds, to staring at the dim candle on the coffee tale, and back again. Finally, Clementine's creeping down the stairs resulted in a squeaking staircase, and Nick turned her way.

"Clementine?" She said nothing at his call, trotting down the rest of the stairwell and eventually pausing beside his chair. He squinted, confused as to why the child was there. "Why are you up?"

"Can't sleep." She said plainly, shrugging, as though it wasn't a big deal that the child was still awake just before sunrise. "Why are you up?"

"Hey, it's more normal for someone like me to be at this hour than you."

Clementine glared, saying nothing, merely furrowing her brows so deeply into each other it was as though they were embedded there. In a moment's time, her gaze fluttered off around the living room, taking in how different everything looked when it wasn't packed with stressed, tired people.

"Well, what are you standing there for?" Nick asked, shrugged her way, scratching at his beard mindlessly. "Pull up a seat. Crack a book. Relax a little."

"There isn't a lot I can do here to relax."

Nick blinked, taking interest in how seemingly mature Clementine was for her age. Something about her felt so...stoic. Almost stone-cold. Nick shifted in his chair, chewing on her sentence. "What do you mean by that?"

Clem shrugged. "Normally if I can't sleep, I just sit around."

Nick raised a brow. "You don't go do something?"

Clem shook her head, taking a seat against the windowsill.

"Read? Go on a walk? Nothing?" He scoffed. "Then why did you come down here?"

"To talk to you, since now I know that you can't sleep either." Clementine stated, furrowing her brows as though insulted. "Besides," she looked away, "I can't do anything else."

Nick scoffed. He figured she wouldn't have been able to go on a walk, she was an unsupervised child after all but regardless, the statement felt silly. "You can't go on a walk or read?"

Clementine said nothing, folding her hands in front of her. She said nothing, merely looked ahead, silent and solemn. Immediately, Nick's lips recoiled.

Right. She had been taken out of school when all of this had started.

She didn't know how to read.

Suddenly, Nick felt a wave of guilt wash over him. There he was, essentially rubbing it in her face that reading could help her get to sleep, when she was unable to even do it.

God, he was an asshole.

"Hey," he said lowly, gesturing his hand to a nearby bookshelf. "Go pick one up off there."

Clementine cowered into herself even more. "Look, I don't--"

"Trust me." He said softly, his gaze gentle and tender; not the same bitter and irritated vibe Nick normally gave off, especially when it came to children. "Go find one that looks interesting."

When Clementine turned around, the old tattered book pressed to her chest, Nick was making his way toward the couch, adjusting his hat and sitting down, gesturing to the open spot beside him. "Come here," he said gently.

Clementine nervously slipped into the seat beside him, exposing the book she'd chosen. The moment the cover of To Kill A Mockingbird was cast toward him, Nick smiled. A classic. Of course.

Nick carefully cracked open the cover, flipping to find the beginning of the first chapter. "I'll read, and you can follow the words along with my finger, okay?"

Clementine nodded opposed to saying anything, amazed by how old the book looked and seemed.

Nick cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly, suddenly realizing just how awkward this encounter might become. But, as he began to read, it didn't feel that way. It felt warm and cozy; actually relaxing. When was the last time he felt genuinely relaxed? Too long ago.

"When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow. When it healed, and Jem's fears of never being able to play football were assuaged, he was seldom self-conscious about his injury..."

And when Luke was the first person up the next morning, spotting the two of them sleeping soundly, curled into one another against the couch, all he could do was smile and let them rest.

"He finally learned that reading was gonna help." He hushed to himself, his heart warm and full, as he made his way into the kitchen to make coffee for all of them.
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