you know we could do some damage;

Spencer was exhausted and that was putting it extremely lightly. He hadn’t been on overnight patrol and he hadn’t just come back from a run, he was just old fashioned tired from getting no sleep. It wasn’t uncommon for anyone in this day and age to not get any sleep, but he’d hardly been getting any at all. The most he’d gotten lately was a restless hour of rolling around in his makeshift cot trying to fall asleep, but all he’d managed to do was close his eyes which helped some. He’d given up on trying to get to sleep when the first rays of sunlight started filtering through the dirtied windows of the classroom his family had claimed as theirs. Annoyed and defeated, Spencer sat up and rubbed his eyes free from the sleep he didn’t get and pushed himself to stand.

Clarke had always been an early riser. He’d had to for sports or clubs, so even now, when the world was spiraling into chaos, he was up before the sun. It gave him time to get ready, waking from what little sleep he’d managed to get. He could even make his own food if he chose to. Sometimes. It all depended on what had been brought in lately. Today’s offerings hadn’t been much, but it was enough for him. He’d only been sitting for about an hour, picking at his food when someone approached him. Clarke hated people touching him but when he realized who it was, he immediately relaxed. “Morning,” he answered simply, watching Spencer sit down.

“Fragile my ass.” Spencer snorted, eyeing him with a shake of his head before turning towards the group that was gathering below them now, arms outstretched as if hoping the two of them would be stupid enough to heave them up too. Ignoring them for a moment, Spencer’s gaze roamed this side of the street and around the house they were currently seeking asylum. The houses weren’t close together at all which meant jumping from roof to roof wasn’t a possibility. Rich people and their space. The horde below them were already covering the front side of the house which meant climbing down was impossible. They were definitely in a pickle.

Clarke scrunched his nose at the guesstimate. “Under two dozen?” he asked in disbelief. They’d seen bigger herds than that, but it was still too much for the two of them to take on right now, especially with bags of food and supplies. Maybe if they weren’t weighed down and not tired. Sighing, he shook his head some. “The older ones are slower, but there’s so many of them, it’d be tough to get far enough past them to get a head start. Plus the bags...” Trailing off, he leaned against the window some, seeing if he could pry it open.

Of course simple supply runs that shouldn’t have taken them very long ended up being a run where everything that possibly could have gone wrong, did. At least everyone that had come out were all capable of keeping their shit together to stay alive, he couldn’t say the same for some of the people back at the school. He was grateful they hadn’t chosen this particular run to try and prove themselves.

Clarke let out a loud laugh that turned into a wheeze. “I’m fragile,” he joked, not moving as Spencer sat up. He had just sprinted across the neighborhood to make sure they got to safety and he was a little winded. But Spencer was right, they’d found some food. It wasn’t a bust, not entirely. They just had to figure out how to get off of the balcony and away from the walkers that were gathering below them. Maybe he could distract them? But Spencer would never let him take off one way to lure them away.

Ethan’s smile grew as he immediately trailed after his brother, “I hope so, they make going back to canned food and non-perishables a sickening thought.”

“Well then let’s hope we never have to go back to that,” Clarke laughed, throwing his arm around Ethan’s shoulders.

“Thank you, Clarke.” Ethan managed a weak smile. “I’ll try to get better at… all of this.” Ethan almost believed those words, but they were mostly just words for Clarke’s benefit. “Hm? Oh, nah not yet. I was helping out in the gardens earlier. Mind if I tag along? I’m starving.”

Clarke smiled back, though he could tell Ethan was struggling. Instead of pushing it further he just nudged his brother towards the kitchens. “Come on. I bet Seb or Meera have something cooked up,” he said, grinning. “We can eat together.”

Ethan wanted to argue, to say that none of it was true. He’d been there for him but he had never done anything about it. Maybe there was a time when he could stand up for his brother like he always did for him, but ever since the day they’d lost their family… Ethan was different. Clarke kept seeing the person Ethan was before that but he wasn’t even sure if that person still existed. It sure seemed like he didn’t. “I guess.” He frowned, though he didn’t believe any of it. Everyone knew the kind of person Ethan was and that he couldn’t be depended on. But he also knew that continuing to talk like that hurt Clarke and made him worry, so he kept his mouth shut. He’d been getting better at keeping things to himself anyway. “I’m glad I have you. You know that right?”

Stubborn, that’s what the Mitchell’s were. But even Clarke knew he couldn't argue this. His brother had grown distant and withdrawn. “I know,” he nodded. “You’re always going to have me. No matter what.” All he could do was reassure Ethan that he would carry him as far as he had to. “Have you eaten today? I was thinking about heading for the kitchens.”

Ethan managed a smile, knowing that Clarke meant it. And he was grateful, with everything they’d lost they still had each other. His smile dropped then, Clarke was always looking out for him but the same couldn’t be said the other way around. “I wish I was strong like you.” He frowned. “… and I want to be. I want to be able to have your back I’m just…” Ethan shook his head, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’m not like you. I’m a coward.”

“Ethan...” Clarke frowned at his brother and stood up, placing his hands on Ethan’s shoulders. “You are my brother. And you are strong. I know you have my back, you have since we were kids.” His frown deepened and he shook his head. “No, you’re not. No one here is brave or a coward. We’re all merely survivors.”

“Thanks Clarke.” He took the gun back from his brother and bit his lip, staring at the gun as he held it loosely in his hand, almost like he was afraid to even be holding it. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this. Or holding it. Let alone be able to fire one…”

Clarke watched him for a moment. “Hey,” he said gently. “Just stick with me and you won’t have to, okay?” He knew his brother wouldn't get used to this. “Nothing’s gonna get you while I’m here.”