Chapter Text
The day he found his daughter was the day his life changed completely. He hadn’t gone into that day with the plan to find a little slip of a thing curled up at the river’s bank, covered in mud, scratches, and with a hell of fever but that was what happened, and his life would never be the same for it.
“Lass, what is it?” He called, seeing one of the herding dogs duck away from the pack and trot down to the river edge. And given that their whole purpose in life was to herd animals, and they had been specifically trained for that, it was a strange occurrence. “Lassie!”
Lassie responded by barking several times, sounding panicked and he moved towards her in an instant, hand resting on his gun. It was probably nothing, an escaped or hurt animal, but just in case…
He crested the ridge, staring down at the wayward herding dog, and froze when he saw what she was nosing at.
That… that was a child. No, not a child. A baby.
Within a moment, he slid down the hill, rushing over and gently scooping up the small thing. Their face was flushed with quiet tears trickling down their cheeks, like they had no energy left to cry loudly. Soft smudges of blood stained their dirty romper, and mud coated their little hands.
He, quite frankly, freaked out.
Turning on his heel, he raced back up the way, already moving to return to the house. He heard one of his brother’s confused voices rise from behind him, calling out his name, but he ignored him for a moment.
“Graey!” He called, entering the house in a fluster. “Nick!” His adoptive parents both turned to look at him from the kitchen.
“Ain’t you supposed to be herding?” Graey asked him and he shook his head rapidly.
“There was a child by the river,” he sputtered out, holding the bundle tightly to his chest, and everything exploded from there.
~
In the end, he supposed it wasn’t really a surprise that he ended up adopting her.
He had refused to leave Graey’s side the whole time that they were cleaning her up and finding her medicine and he was the first to call her Clementine after the fruits on her clothes, and while his siblings would make fun of him until the world ended of him managing to find his own child much like Nick and Graey had found him, he didn’t regret it. Not in the slightest.
Of course, he held off getting attached, that was a bold-faced lie, until several of his siblings went to the surrounding houses and to town, searching for families that might have recently lost a baby. He held the thing close, soothing her softly as she fought through the fever that had taken her, and as they treated the few wounds on her arms and legs.
Their best guess was that she had somehow ended up in the river and been washed down it before getting stuck on the bank near their home. And lucky thing that was, because, according to Graey, she wouldn’t have made it much longer. It only made him more attached to her.
But a week went by, then two, and no one came forward. There were no distraught parents running up to the porch, scooping up the child in their arms. There were no siblings running down the road, yelling for their sister. There was nothing.
So, by the time a month went by, and they were sure the young girl was going to make it, he took her into his arms, named her Clementine, and offered a prayer to whoever her family had been. Because more and more it seemed like something bad had happened to them, a baby doesn’t end up in a river easily, and he wanted to let them know that their child would be well taken care of. She would live, even if they hadn’t.
So, he tucked her into his lap, pressed a kiss on her head, and called her his.
~
It wasn’t easy raising a child, especially alone, and while his siblings were all enthusiastic to be uncles and aunts and his parents made a joke about not expecting to be grandparents so soon, it was still an uphill battle. He learned almost everything the hard way, but he didn’t mind it, not really.
Every morning that he woke up to his little girl’s laughter and voice was a good day for him, even if he was tired from something else she had pulled.
He took her with him every time he returned to the fields with his family, her tucked gently into a baby sling Graey had given him, bright eyes watching the cattle or the sheep or just the sky. He talked to her constantly, holding her little hands in his as they sat together as day turned into night. He balanced his hat on her and watched her laugh, a small smile creeping up on his face.
And even when he left the family home, needing space for him and Clementine, his family never stopped spoiling her either, not helped by the fact that they saw each other every day. And things weren’t perfect, no the IPC was still making a mess of their world, and there was still struggles to make ends meet sometimes, but every day with her was good, and he held her close when she started talking (“Pa!” had been her first and he would deny that he had started crying) and walking (she had picked up her father’s habit of bumping into things) and he looked forward to the rest of his life he would be able to spend with her.
He never thought he would miss ten years of her life.
~
He had allowed himself to celebrate, albeit internally, when he learned that the IPC was finally leaving their home. The IPC may have first come to them, introducing their planet to the worlds beyond the stars, with good intentions and good plans, but over the years, it had twisted and changed its mission, sucking them dry and leaving nothing good behind. The unrest against them was growing and growing and he could tell that the IPC was starting to feel the heat too.
So, when the announcement was made that they would be leaving the system, completely and utterly, and would never return, he hadn’t been the only one who had raised a toast to their departure.
He never thought that they would take him with them.
~
He had been eating dinner with Clementine, allowing himself to just enjoy the evening, the beautiful sunset outside, when a harsh knock had hit the door.
He instantly knew it wasn’t anyone he’d want to see. None of them knocked like that.
Clementine jumped off her seat, heading for the door, and he reached out to gently stop her. “Grammy says it’s rude to make people wait at the door, Pa,” she told him, looking up at her, and he smiled at her, trying not to alarm her in any way. He let himself have a small moment of pride for how well his daughter was shaping up and then focused back on the problem at hand.
“Yes, darling, that’s right,” he replied, picking her up and moving deeper into the kitchen. He didn’t like this, not at all, and the last thing he wanted was for his daughter to get caught in whatever was about to happen. “But the thing is, I’m not expectin’ anyone.”
So, who was at the door? The IPC was supposed to be gone by now, it should have been several hours ago that their ships up and left. But that was the only option it could be… right?
They banged on the door again and he felt his heartrate spike up ever so slightly.
He placed her down gently next to the pantry, reaching back and grabbing his gun from the counter. Just in case.
“You’re not s’pose to use that in the house,” Clementine said, sounding just like one of her aunts, and he smiled at her, pressing one of his fingers to his lips. Proud of her, yes, but she needed to be quiet right then.
“Can you be quiet for me, Clem?” He asked her, trying to keep his voice some form of light, and his daughter blinked at him.
“Like hide and seek?” She asked innocently and he latched onto that excuse quickly. Whatever to make this as easy and less traumatizing for his daughter as possible.
Why was he worried? Nothing was going to happen. Nothing was going to happen.
“Yeah, just like hide ‘n seek.” And thankfully, his daughter got the message, tucking herself into the pantry with her hands over her mouth, and he gave her another smile. “There’s a good girl.”
Quickly leaving the kitchen, he clutched his gun tighter as he headed down the hallway. If it’s the IPC, first what are they doing at his house? And second, why are they still here?
They started banging on the door for a third time and he wrenched it open, holding his gun tightly at his side.
It was the IPC.
Something in his mind screamed at him that this was wrong.
“Can I help ya folks?” He asked, letting his ‘polite’ tone as Clem called it seep into his voice. For a second, neither group moved. He realized just how many of them there were.
And then the first armored man raised his gun and shot him through the side with a BANG and he went sliding backwards. He heard his daughter scream.
“Muddlefudgers!” He spat out, lifting his own gun and shooting back, hitting two of them in their faces as they invaded his home. What on stars’ green earth was happening?
He shot again as they threw open the door, sending the vase by the side crashing to its side, and his shot went wide, smashing through the window. He shoved himself back to his feet, moving to punch one of them, and threw the other over his shoulder, managing to shoot a third in the shoulder. He retreated again, pressing a hand to his side, and started doing calculations in his head. He had two more bullets left in the gun but a refill on his back and it wasn’t like he was sloppy in hand to hand. But there were a great many of IPC lackeys and he still didn’t know what they were here for.
Were they there to execute him? But why? He made his dislike of them clear, sure, but didn’t think that was grounds for murdering him in his own home.
And, again, weren’t they supposed to be gone?
“Pa!” His head snapped to the side as he heard his daughter yell, freezing when he saw her standing in the hallway. Why wasn’t she still in the pantry? Why had she come all the way out here?
One of the IPC lackeys raised his gun in Clementine’s direction and he snapped back into action. “NO!” He roared, throwing himself between her and the gun, grabbing it by its neck and pointing it down to the ground when it fired. He then decked the person in the face, throwing him back into his fellows, before turning on his heel and grabbing his daughter, holding her tightly as he raced through their house.
They had tried to… they were going to… they were gonna shoot his daughter.
He didn’t know his hatred for them could go any higher, but he found himself mistaken in that area.
“Clem, Clem, go to Grandma’s house, okay?” He told her, bursting through their back door and placing her down quickly, trying not to hurt her but also keenly aware of the soldiers racing after them. “Clem, go to Grandma’s!” The family house wasn’t too far away in the grand scheme of things, he had wanted to stay close even after he decided that Clem and he needed their own space, and he needed his daughter away from the people who weren’t opposed to killing her like they were probably trying to kill him.
“Pa-!” Clementine started but he cut her off. He didn’t have time to explain it to her.
“Clementine, you will listen to me!” He winced at the harshness of his voice, but he would forgive himself. A shot went over both their heads, and he heard the soldiers get closer. “Go! NOW!” With that, he shoved her down the hill, knowing that while it would hurt, it wouldn’t kill her, and spun on his heel, shooting the next soldier to come out of the house. He ducked their next blow, reaching up for his refill, and emptied his last shot into another, sending him crumpling to the ground.
There was some perverse pleasure in finally being able to shoot the muddlefudgers instead of just having to tolerate their presence.
But then one of them managed to get another shot off on him and he went down, pressing a hand to the wound, and he glared at the IPC lackeys that came towards him. His refill slipped through numb fingers.
“PA!” No, why didn’t Clemetine keep running? He snapped his head around, seeing her standing at the bottom of the hill, and he sucked in a breath to yell to her again, but the sound of a gun cocking cut him off. He looked at the main lackey, who was raising his gun again, and he felt all prior thoughts fly from his head.
He surged to his feet, ready to tackle the man, but then there were hands on his shoulders, on his back, and shoving him back to the ground, and he realized the man was still aiming for his daughter. “No! NO!” He screamed, thrashing in the IPC lackey’s holds, kicking out desperately and trying pull himself from their grip. “CLEMENTINE! DON’T HURT HER!”
He tried to shove himself up again but there were hands pressing down on his shoulder blades, on his wrists and neck, and he could only watch as the man shot his daughter.
Everything went quiet.
All he could see was the blood arching across the sky as his daughter flew back, landing on the ground with a thud and not moving. Not getting up. Not breathing.
His daughter was…
The lackey lowered the gun, as calm as you please, and everything kicked back into gear.
“You BASTARD!” He shrieked, snarling and fighting against the hands again. “YOU FUCKER, HOW COULD YOU?!” The IPC lackey didn’t respond to him, turning away like this was just another day for him, and he felt the hands on him shift, holding him tightly.
He thrashed, trying to reach for his gun, trying to claw at them, trying to do anything, but the armored men seemed unbothered. The hands held onto his limbs like iron, dragging him backwards as he fought back. One hand wrapped around his neck, pulling him back to his feet. He growled, fighting desperately, feeling tears start to trail down his cheeks.
“Clementine!!” He craned his head, trying to get another glimpse of his daughter, and when the lackeys started yanking him backwards, he realized they weren’t going to kill him like they had his daughter.
They were… they were taking him.
“What are you doing, you fucker?!” He snarled at the head lackey, feeling hands grab his hair and wrench his head back as he lunged forward, gnashing his teeth at the man. The hand on his neck tightened, nearly cutting off his airflow.
The lackey turned to him. “You’ve been selected by the IPC for recruitment,” he said after a moment, voice sounding mechanical and inhuman, and he froze, unfortunately allowing the IPC lackeys to drag him further back.
“…What?” He hissed out after a second and the lackey seemed disinclined to tell him anything else, turning away and reaching a hand up to the side of his head, and he lunged forward again. The hands dragged him back and it wasn’t long before it wasn’t hands around his wrists, but something cold and metal, and he snarled, trying to free himself.
But as good of a fighter he was, he couldn’t do much against all of them, restrained as he was, and all he could do was fight and thrash as they dragged him from his home, pinning him on his knees after they had left the premise.
But they didn’t drag him far enough that he wasn’t able to see the inferno that their home turned into, and more tears dripped down his cheeks as he thought of his daughter’s body, going cold in the grass. Their memories went up in smoke as the fire caught on dry wood and roared into the sky.
Near him, he could hear the lackey talking to someone through a communicator. “Mission complete.” He felt a sourness on his tongue at that. That was all he was to them, a mission to be completed and he hadn’t been able to stop them. Hadn’t been able to stop them from killing his daughter. She was only four. “No problems.”
He closed his eyes at that, slumping against the hands that held his shoulders, feeling more tears slide down his face. He didn’t want to cry in front of them, didn’t want to show them what they had done to him, but he couldn’t help it. His daughter, his Clementine was dead. They had killed her. The only comfort he could find was that he hadn’t been at the family home that night. What would have happened then?
“The others have been apprehended as well.” He raised his head at that, staring at the lackey through wet eyes. Others? There were others being taken like him? “We’re one of the last.” The lackey stared down at him and he glared back. “Make transportation easier.” The command was directed to someone behind him and he only had a minute to guess what that meant before there was a needle in his neck, and he felt the darkness come up and claim him.
Clementine…
~
The ground was cold beneath his cheek as his eyes slid open and for a moment all he could see was silver. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. He wasn’t on his bed, nor in the fields, or even on the floor of their house, so where…?
Everything hit him like a kicking horse and his head snapped up in a moment.
A headache ripped across his head, and he immediately folded back over but he had seen enough to realize that he wasn’t home anymore.
He was in a box, metal walls so close to him he was nearly claustrophobic. A single light shone down on him from the ceiling, though there also seemed to be light from behind him, so he would check that in a second. When he raised a hand to press it to his head, the rattle of chains greeted him.
It took him a few more moments, pressing his eyes closed, waiting for the throbbing in his head to subside before he managed to finally look around.
Cracking his eyes open, the first thing he saw was the manacle around his wrist, attached to the ground with a short chain. It was tight, uncomfortable, and it wasn’t too long before he saw the second around his other. And when he shifted, he was able to see the same on his ankles.
He folded over again, pressing a hand to his mouth. The IPC had been serious then. They had actually… actually taken him.
He felt the burn of tears in his eyes again.
What was his family going to think? Were they going to show up at his home, unaware and full of optimism for the day only to find it burned to the ground, his daughter’s body in the grass and him missing? Would they ever know what happened to him? Or would the IPC manage to cover up his kidnapping as well as how many others they took?
Would they mourn for him as they mourned his daughter?
The ground shook beneath him and he jumped slightly, feeling it start to vibrate. He raised his head, looking around the three walls he could see, but they gave him nothing. Ignoring the pain in his sides from the shots and the splitting headache, he forced himself around, freezing when he noticed the final wall wasn’t metal. No, it was glass.
Past the window, he could see the town in the distance. He was… he was on the IPC ship.
And the vibrations…
He dragged himself closer, pressing his hand to the glass, unable to bring the other one to it as the chain bit into his wrist. It was too short to get that far. He stared out, seeing the stars twinkling above the town, seeing the gentle lights from the hanging lanterns that decorated the square.
Did any of them realize? Did they know that several of their friends, several of their families were being stolen while they slept?
The ship shuddered again, and he realized with a drop in his chest that the ground was suddenly farther away than it had been before.
They were… they were leaving.
He couldn’t breathe.
The ship made a final vibration before settling into a steady pace and he could only watch as his home grew smaller and smaller, lights becoming nothing, grassland being coming swathes of color.
He felt… not numb, but…
Would he ever get home again? Would he ever see his family again?
He stared until his planet was a speck in the distance, unable to glance away, unable to move, unable to do anything but look.
And then he curled over himself and screamed.
Tears burned in his eyes, sobs wracked his chest, and yet he let none of them out. He let all his anger, fear, sadness, grief turn into a scream, and then, when he was done, it was quiet and cold, and the world was still gently vibrating around him.
His hands turned into a fist on the glass. The IPC… they were the ones doing this. They were the ones stole him, who killed his daughter, who tormented his planet so.
In the glass, he could see his expression fall into one of utter hatred and contempt.
“You’ve been selected by the IPC for recruitment.”
He would make them regret it.
He would make them regret ever taking advantage of his planet. He would make them regret stealing him and killing his daughter. He would make them regret everything.
In his daughter’s name and in his own.
This he swore.