entrancelogs | + Guilt Runs Deep

He leans into the hug, taking comfort from it. As dark and horrible as things can get - Clementine is as much a beacon of happiness for him as he is for her. She takes the time to listen to see beyond all his bullshit to the person behind the act. And she still chooses to take him seriously. To stay with him. He's more grateful for that than he could ever put in words.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you with that."

The apology was sincere. He's stuck in his own hell, and that left Clementine alone to deal with hers. She's always so much tougher than he is, that's normal- knowing she can handle herself better than he can. But he still wishes he could have been there for her. He closes his eyes, leaning against her arm, wanting more than anything to just rest. Just for a little while.

"I know. But you...you do stuff to keep yourself alive. Keep AJ alive. That's- I know I don't know what it's like out there really, but I know you just...you do what you got to do, to survive."

It's easier, focusing on her. Focusing on this. Trying to block out his hands sending that email. Hearing his Mom. The whole thing repeating. It's so much easier to focus on her.

"There were worst things it could have put me through."

It didn't put her through those things. It didn't put her through the ranch, and so she was able to move forward... from this even if it was difficult and painful. She doesn't want him to be sorry about it. He had his own hell to deal with, and that was important. He is important. She just wishes she could have come sooner.

Her eyes close against him as he leans against her, and she wishes she could help him have rest, but this fucking world's not so kind. She shakes her head. Something sharp centering in her chest.

"No ...not every terrible thing I've done has been about survival," she says and that's it's own quiet admittance. She is not ready to talk about it, but she doesn't want him thinking she's only ever been terrible to survive. No. That's not true at all.

She clears her throat then, reaching for his hand even as- even as his mom speaks up again. Clementine swallows thickly. "I have forgiven myself for some stuff, and I just want you to know what that really means. It doesn't mean you're saying what you did was okay. It doesn't mean that you're excused for your actions. ...it just means you- you stop punishing yourself for what happened."

And he doesn't deserve to be punished anymore for this. He already went through hell and more. He was sent to Erickson's school, the world ended, and he never saw his parents again.

"That I can believe."

He'd hate to think of all the things it could put Clementine through. She probably has enough skeletons in her closet to have a good old skeleton party. They could drum on their ribcages and everything. A skeleton shindig.

"...I guess not."

He's already seen how tough she can be. When she's backed into a corner she'd fight her way out of it no matter what. It's something he deeply admires in her- but he's aware that it means she's probably had...some unfortunate results, sometimes. That she's sometimes fought the wrong people. Or the wrong people have fought her.

He listens to what she has to say, brow furrowed, lips a thin line. He squeezes her hand, his free one carrying on typing regardless- the memory forever marching forward. He understands what she's saying to him, but he can't take that step. A part of his still feels like he deserves this punishment. That he shouldn't be able to get up and walk out of this.

"I- I don't think I can do that," stop punishing himself. "I'm sorry, Clem. I just can't. Not yet."

Maybe not ever, if he were honest.

Clementine doesn't know how to say the words about the times when she didn't fight her way out of a corner, when no one fought her, when she did terrible things for no good reason. She just wanted to see someone hurt. She was just angry.

She's changed because of AJ, because she has AJ now, because she doesn't want to- to provide a terrible example to him. She's taught him how to do terrible things to survive. Even if that's not always why she's done terrible things, even if she didn't always teach him when it was necessary to do it and when it wasn't (when someone was a threat and when they weren't).

She shakes her head again as she keeps hold of him, tight, protective. Her throat locks a bit with emotion she doesn't quite let free.

"No," she says abruptly, firmly, pulling back from him enough to look him in the eyes. She wants to be clear about this much. "Don't be sorry. I said you don't have to, and you really don't. I know it's not easy. I know you might not ever be able to. I just- I wanted you to know what forgiving yourself means so- so you didn't think it was saying that what happened before was okay. It's not."

It's not an absolution. It's not making excuses.

"You were a kid, around Tenn's age, probably younger. Believe me, kids don't-- They can't think things through. They can't fully grasp it." AJ shot Marlon without grasping the reality of those consequences. "I'm not saying that as an excuse. Just-- I don't dislike who you were at all. I really like him. He's really important to e, because that's how you got to be who you are today."

There's a pause as her eyes burn.

"Without him, without this horrible decision that you live with every single day now, you wouldn't be who you are. And I can't... imagine that world without you in it. My life without... you in it."

Edited 2019-02-26 03:49 (UTC)

Louis might be very good at wallowing in his own self-loathing- but he cares about Clem enough to take stock when she talks. To listen, really listen to what she has to say. He knows what she says makes sense, he knows it. That forgiving isn't absolution. And yet-

"...I get it. I know. It's just-"

Difficult. Monumentally so. He's carried this weight for so long, it's settled into being a part of him. He's not sure if he could let it go. If he should. A part of him is worried that he'll backslide. Become that person again. He hates that person. A lot.

But then Clem says that and it gives him reason to pause. She's right- Clem usually is, in his experience- he wouldn't be the person he is today if he hadn't done that. He wouldn't have been sent to Ericson's. He wouldn't have been relatively safe when the world ended, he wouldn't have learned to be a better person. He wouldn't have been in Ericson's when Clem showed up. He wonders if anyone else would have stepped up to protect her from Marlon if he wasn't there. Violet, maybe? Yeah. Probably Violet.

"...You do make a very valid point, Clementine," he manages a smile- tired, frayed at the edges, but there. "I'm pretty sure my life without you in it would suck a whole lot. Actually, I know that for a solid fact thanks to Wonderland Shenanigans. So I guess I can thank Past Me for that much, at least."

Not enough to forgive himself. But enough to see the end results were much, much better.

Clementine does not expect him to be able to forgive himself now or ever even if she also understands the weight that can be lifted by doing so. Even if she sees how what happened to him shapes the way he views himself. Sometimes it breaks her heart the way that he views himself sometimes (that low sense of self worth that he has). It's just not easy to do- to let go of.

And sometimes it's better to feel guilty than to not feel guilty at all. It's just who Louis is. There's plenty Clementine should feel guilty about that she doesn't.

That she didn't blink an eye at.

She nods even as her eyes burn. She's grateful that she managed to get through to him at all. After all this time in his own personal hell, she didn't really expect to- wouldn't' blame him if he couldn't hear her, but she had to try to tell him how she feels. She likes the kid that he was. She cares about him regardless of how he views that kid, regardless of how he views himself.

"I know it's not easy. I know it's- it's difficult as fuck," Clementine says softly, hugging him tightly again. "And I'm not going anywhere."

He'd much rather carry that weight with him than go back to that again. He led them to this place- to this life- but he still wasn't a nice person. Hell, Past Louis would have tossed anyone in harms way to be safe himself- he's sure of that. But tragedy eclipsed selfishness and he learned to be better. He guesses he can be glad for that, at least. That he learned. Grew.

He returns the hug, resting his chin on his shoulder, eyes closed, breathing her in. Clementine might be a terrifying force to some- hell, he's well aware she's got some unflinching horror in her past - but she's always been a sense of comfort to him. Scary at times, yes, but comfort all the same. A rock. He knows he'd be lost without her.

"...Thanks, Clem. I'm-" he winces at the sound of his mother, tries to push it back. "I'm really glad you're here."

Clementine prefers to be a terrifying force to most people especially in the world that they're from. It keeps her alive, keeps AJ alive, but she would never want Louis to see her that way. She would want him to be able to find comfort in her.

"There's nowhere else I'd be, Louid," she whispers against him, but it's true. She can see him wince, and so she thinks through her head until she finds memories to share with him. "I once had a hamster, y'know? I mean before all the walkers and shit."

Yep, she's gonna try to distract him.

He smiles, he can see what she's doing, but he'll damn well take it. Anything is better than focusing on his mess. On having his guilt dragged to the surface every few minutes.

"You did? You know, you never struck me as a hamster sort, but I guess when the world was...not full of walkers things were a little different, huh?" he considers. "What was it called? The Hamster?"

Clementine keeps her voice quiet but constant-- as constant as she can to try to fill up the space in the aftermath so he doesn't have to hear this anymore. Or so he doesn't have to only hear that anymore.

"The Hamster was called Ms. Fluffykins. ...I was six so creativity wasn't really a thing," she says with a tiny smirk at the memory. "She was fluffy, and she was a girl, so that's all I needed to know to make that creative name."

Louis listens, trying his best to drown out everything else happening around him. To focus on her voice. To focus on her.

"I don't know. I think that's a pretty creative name. I do like she was a Ms, too. Sounds like a no-nonsense lady hamster trying to live her life in a guy hamster world. She could have a snappy theme song and everything."

It's not got the snappiness of his usual jokes, but he's trying.

Honestly, Clementine doesn't expect him to joke at all given the situation and his exhaustion, and so she smiles a tiny bit when he still tries despite the rest. It even manages to make her laugh in a quiet, soft kind of way.

"You have my permission to make that theme song later on at some point."

There's a slight pause especially with the two of them in the midst of this horrible memory that makes him feel so bad about himself, and she wants- She wants something else to be clear.

"You matter so much to me, y'know?"

"I will absolutely make a theme song. You can bet on it."

It's easier, to joke than deal with all of this. Violet was right- Louis is very good at burying his head in the sand. It's not out of neglect, but putting a happy sheen on everything is his survival strategy. It's got him this far, stands to reason it might get him further.

When Clem has to say is enough to give him pause. He's used to telling other people they mean the world to him. He does it unabashedly, every day if he feels the need to. People tend not to afford him the same, though. He doesn't need to hear it (he knows, of course, he knows) but it's nice to hear it. He smiles, small, tired, but there.

"I know," a reassurance because he understands Clem doesn't always feel her emotions come across as strong as she'd like. "You matter everything to me, too."

Clemetine smiles against him even as she slides a hand behind her neck, closing her eyes there as she hugs him very tightly. She nods against his shoulder, because she knows. Louis makes it very clear that she matters so much to him and that means the world to her.

And she just wants more than anything to protect that, protect him. Everyone she has ever loved has died, usually died because of her.

She wants him to stay safe, to stay in her life. No matter what.

She wants a lot of impossible things, but right now she just wants him to feel even a little bit as worthy and as meaningful as he is. Especially in the face of a memory like this one.

So she'll stay like that with him through the rest of the Event, reminding him whenever she can. That he matters, that this moment alone does not define him.

+ Guilt Runs Deep

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