Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.
A/N: Ha! I definitely had a bit of a boo-boo last chapter… When I had first started writing this story, Meg's companion was actually one of her brothers, not her friend Amanda. For the most part, only two chapters had been written with the brother before I backtracked and opted for Amanda instead. I had thought I'd gone through those chapters and fixed the names/actions/dialogue. I apparently missed some, though, and a reviewer was kind enough to point it out to me. So, thank you for that. I don't really like asking for reviews because I'm such a stingy reviewer myself, but what I do ask is that if people find a mistake of any kind to just shoot me a note and tell me. It's the self-loathing perfectionist in me.
In honor of the Walking Dead marathon this weekend, you'll get another chapter tomorrow – I promise!
Enjoy!
Daisy Duke, But Not Really
By: Ginny
The first thing Meg realized when she woke up was that there was light bothering both her eyes – as in, both eyes were capable of sight. Oh, yay! Her eye must have deflated after all this time! Depth perception! She had it again. Well, maybe that made up for her killer headache.
"Meg," Amanda groaned above her.
"Wha?" she mumbled. Rolling over, she squinted up at her friend and realized that she was standing over her and kicking her with her toes. What a bitch.
"Take a shower," she commanded. "I'm getting breakfast."
With a guttural yawn, Meg came to another realization: she was on the floor. How had she gotten on the floor?
And why the fuck did her head feel like someone had spilt it open with a pickaxe?
Oh Lord, she rolled over again tried to push herself up – just in time to hear the door close behind Amanda. Meg tried to remember if the girl had thought to change out of her clothes she had been wearing the day before… probably not. Crawling on hands and knees, she made her way to her back and pulled a fresh tank top and shorts. Then, she showered.
True to what she had told Daryl, there was a slight headache pounding between her eyes, but other than that she felt just fine. Rolling the pill bottle between her fingers, she decided that it wasn't worth taking any of the painkillers. With a great sigh, she slipped it into her jean's pocket.
Glancing into the bathroom mirror, she was a little frightened to discover that her face had gone from the harsh blue to a deep purple. Ick.
On feet that had an issue lifting off the ground, she made her way down the hallway and into the kitchen/dining area. She nearly bumped into Rick on her way in.
"Morning," he muttered, rubbing his face.
"I know the feeling," she yawned wide and proud.
"Are you hung-over?" Carl asked. Meg wasn't certain a kid his age knew what that meant. "Mom said you'd be." Ah, that was where he got the idea. Understandable.
"Mom is right," Rick admitted, taking a seat.
"Mom has that annoying habit," she joked, ripping up a piece of bacon.
Bacon? There was bacon?
Meg pulled up a chair next to Amanda, and saw that she had gotten her an extra plate. See? They took care of each other. The blonde gave the girl a nod, but other than that was quiet. Yeah, neither of them were very good morning people. Usually nonverbal communication was necessary prior to noon.
"Eggs," T-Dog announced. "Powdered, but – but I do 'em good."
Oh thank goodness, Meg was starving.
Just then, Glenn gave a great groan and Jacqui squeezed his shoulders in comfort.
"I bet you can't tell," T-Dog challenged the Korean. "Protein helps the hangover." The black man piled some yellow eggs onto Glenn's plate. All he did was continue to groan.
"Where'd all this come from?" Rick questioned, picking up his own piece of bacon.
"Jenner," Lori explained.
Meg stopped paying attention as T-Dog dropped some eggs onto her own plate. Without any hesitation, she scooped them up and shoved them into her mouth. She remembered, vaguely, hating eggs prior to the end of the world. Now they were little bits of heaven in her mouth. And the bacon. Lord, the bacon.
"Don't ever, ever, ever let me drink again," Glenn moaned once more. Meg reached over and poked him with her fork.
"I'm pretty sure I had at least five times as much as you did and I'm perfectly fine," Meg bragged. "Sucks to be Asian, right?" Meg joked.
"Shut. Up," he grit out.
Suddenly a voice interrupted her. "The hell happened to you?" T-Dog asked. Meg turned to see that Shane had a few moments before arrived. Nothing seemed amiss from her angle. It wasn't until T-Dog clarified, "Your neck," and Shane sat down that Meg was able to assess the damage.
"Those look like claw marks," she piped up. "Like someone just clawed at your neck."
Shane shrugged, "Must have done it in my sleep."
"Never see you do that before," Rick pressed. When had he ever seen Shane sleep, Meg wondered.
"Me neither," Shane took a sip of his coffee. "Not like me at all." When his eyes met Lori's across the table, Meg could feel her own narrow. Especially after Lori shifted her gaze away. What the hell had happened?
Jenner came strutting in, saying, "Morning."
"Hey, doc," Shane greeted first.
"Doctor," Dale spoke up. "I don't mean to slam you with questions first thing…"
"But you will anyway," Jenner finished as he poured his coffee. His tone was light enough that the group knew he didn't mind all that much. They were probably the first people he had been around for a long while. Last night he had been pretty overwhelmed, it seemed but now that he had gotten used to it – and was being much friendlier.
"We didn't come here for the eggs," Andrea finally finished.
Jenner turned to appraise the group and Meg was so intent on the doctor, she forgot that Daryl had been missing from breakfast until he walked right passed her line of sight. Immediately, she perked up and followed him with her eyes as he grabbed his own plate and sat down. Amanda coughed next to her to warn her that she was probably staring. Meg glanced down at her empty plate and then her friend, who regarded her with a raised eyebrow.
On their way into the main computer room, Amanda grabbed Meg's arm and looked her straight in the eye. "You left last night," she began.
"Left?" Meg furrowed her brows.
"You weren't in the room," she clarified.
"You were passed out," Meg grinned mischievously.
"I woke up to pee, you weren't in the room." Amanda glanced ahead of the group and then turned back to Meg. "Were you with Daryl?"
"Why would you think I was with Daryl?"
"Oh my God, Meg!" Amanda damn near threw her arms in the air in frustration. "I know you have a crush on him. God, you look at him like he's Jesus reincarnated."
"I do not," the other girl protested.
"You do." Then Amanda squeezed her arm tightly. "Meg, you can tell me."
"Nothing happened, honestly. Mostly I just embarrassed myself. He sent me to bed. But," Meg frowned. "He also said something pretty cryptic. I think he might like me, too."
Amanda gave her a nice long stare, before letting her go. "Well, you could do much worse. He's strong and noble, even if he is a bit of a hothead." Glancing off, Amanda finally decided, "He'll protect you."
"I can protect myself," Meg protested as Amanda began to catch up with the group.
"You keep thinking that," she threw over her shoulder.
They flooded into the computer room and situated themselves.
"Give me playback of TS-19," Jenner commanded.
"Playback of TS-19," VI announced.
The doctor turned to the group. "Few people ever got a chance to see this," he explained. "Very few."
The screen above them lit up and began blinking, before a human head and neck appeared. Meg was watching the pictures change when she felt the pressure of someone's eyes on her. Turning, she met Daryl's steady gaze. He gave her a little nod, but didn't move to come stand beside her. Then, she watched as his gaze traveled downward and a deep frown appeared on his face. Meg responded with a questioning frown of her own.
Carl's voice broke the tension. "Is that a brain?"
"An extraordinary one," Jenner added. "Not that it matters in the end. Take us in for EIV."
Meg watched Daryl cross the room.
"Enhanced internal view," VI broadcasted.
No one said much of anything as the screen zoomed into the brain. Beautiful lights danced in the person's extraordinary brain and Meg tried to remember what they were. Electrical impulses? Firing synapses? God, general education requirement biology did not prepare her for this shit.
"What are those lights?" Shane finally spoke up.
"A persons life," Jenner explained, resembling one of Meg's college professors giving a lecture. "Experiences, memories. It's everything. Somewhere in all that organic wiring, all those ripples of light, is you. The thing that makes you unique. And human."
"You don't make sense, ever," Daryl spoke up, arms crossed. Well, Jenner really hadn't explained it very well to begin with. Those were pretty words but had nothing to do with biology.
"Those are synapses," he finally said. "Electric impulses in the brain that carry all the messages. They determine everything a person says, does, or thinks from the moment of birth to the moment of death." Meg felt a shiver run through her body.
"Death?" Rick asked, walked forward. "Is that what this is, a vigil?"
"Yes," Jenner turned wide eyes up to the screen. His voice was soft and wonderstruck. "Or rather, the playback of the vigil."
"This person died?" Andrea asked. "Who?"
"Test subject 19. Someone who was bitten and infected and volunteered to have us record the process," Jenner explained. Then he turned his attention to his computer. "VI, scan forward to the first event." The computer repeated his instructions.
Suddenly, the beautiful glowing brain was plagued by a black invader.
"What is that?" Glenn asked.
"It invades the brain, like meningitis," the doctor explained.
But you can get a vaccine for meningitis, Meg thought.
"The adrenal glands hemorrhage," he continued. "The brain goes into shut down, then the major organs." The head on the screen stopped moving. "Then death." Jenner was silent for a moment. "Everything you ever were or ever will be… gone."
No one was willing to ask it, except for little Sophia. "Is that what happened to Jim?"
"Yes," Carol answered her daughter, reaching for her hand.
Andrea flinched and looked down. Lori caught Jenner staring at the grieving sister and explained, "She lost somebody two days ago. Her sister."
"I lost somebody too," Jenner approached Andrea. "I know how devastating it is."
She glanced up, but said nothing.
"Scan to the second event," he commanded. "The resurrection times vary wildly. We had reports of it happening in as little as three minutes. The longest we heard of was eight hours. In the case of this patient it was two hours, one minute… seven seconds."
Suddenly, bursts of red appeared near what Meg remembered to be the brain stem – the oldest part of the brain. Lori noticed the color too.
"It restarts the brain?" she asked.
"No, just the brain stem," he clarified. "Basically, it gets them up and moving."
"But they're not alive," Rick wanted to know.
Jenner pointed to the screen. "You tell me."
The cop just shook his head. "It's nothing like before." That was something everyone could agree with. "Most of that brain is dark."
"Dark. Lifeless. Dead," he agreed. "The frontal lobe, the neocortex – the human part. That doesn't come back. The you part. Just a shell. Driven by mindless instinct."
A bright line cut across the head and remained. Meg jumped and she could even feel Amanda startle.
"God!" Carol let out. "What was that?"
"He shot is patient in the head," Andrea realized. Then she looked to him and asked, "Didn't you?"
Instead of answering, he had his computer shut the screen off.
"You have no idea what it is, do you?" Andrea asked, the frustration clear in her voice.
Under the group's stare he finally said, "It could be microbial, viral, parasitic, fungal."
"Or the wrath of God?" Jacqui interrupted. Meg glanced down at her hands, frowning.
"There is that."
Andrea wasn't willing to let that go. "Somebody must know something. Somebody, somewhere."
"There are others right?" Carol spoke up – a hint of hysteria in her voice. "Other facilities?"
"There maybe some," Jenner admitted. "People like me…"
Meg wrapped her arms around herself and tried to will the sound of her own heart beating to be a little softer. Mostly because it was invading her ears and making it difficult for her to think or even hear Rick berate Jenner or to hear Jenner's response. There was no one. The world was gone. They had each other. Why did she feel so… helpless? Almost instinctively, her eyes shot up to find Daryl. He was the one calm place. The steady presence. The body on the log beside her as she listened to Merle's cackle and Amanda's giggle. He was the creased eyes and reluctant smile and breathless chuckle. When had that happened?
And as his eyes found her as well she realized when that had happened: when she had seen his narrowed blue eyes reflecting the blinding sun, poised over a crossbow aimed at her.
His jaw set and he nodded at her, a silence assurance that alone didn't really mean alone.
"Dr. Jenner, I know this has been taxing for you," Dale began, not sounding at all apologetic. "And I hate to ask one more question, but… that clock. It's counting down." Meg turned to look at it, trying to ignore the fact that in this moment Dale had adopted the same inflection her own father often used when dealing with stupid people. "What happens at zero?"
"The…" Jenner hesitated. "The basement generators, they run out of fuel."
"And then?" Rick frowned. Jenner just kept walking so Rick turned to the computer. "VI, what happens when the power runs out?"
Her automated voice rang out, "When the power runs out, facility-wide decontamination will occur."
"Well," Meg spoke up. "That is vague."
Some of the men ran off. Meg went back to her room with Amanda in tow.
"What do you think that was all about?" her friend asked.
"No clue," Meg replied honestly. "I don't want to think about it." She looped her fingers through her belt loops and bumped the pill bottle. "Oh," she pulled it out and waved it in front of Amanda. "I have to return this. Be back."
This time she had no trouble remembering who she needed to talk to. Vaguely, she remembered that Daryl hadn't gone running off with the other men in favor of returning to his own room.
"Hey," she said the second he opened the door. "I'm here to give these back."
"Ya have to use 'em?" he asked, simultaneously taking the bottle back and opening the door fully so that she could come in. Meg didn't even hesitate, just walked right in.
"No," she shrugged. "I told you – genetics. I have an abundance of this one enzyme that breaks down acetic acid – the shit that causes hangovers."
Daryl tossed the bottle into his backpack and grabbed an open bottle of whiskey. "I just had ta stand there, listenin' ta that doc talk up a fuckin' storm 'bout all this science shit. Don't need another lesson." He took a swig of his whiskey.
Giving a hearty grin, Meg sat herself down on the sofa. She suddenly remembered something that had happened earlier today. "Hey, are you okay?" she asked. "You seemed a little off."
"Hm?" he wiped his mouth and squinted at her. Then, his gaze travelled down and he frowned again. Shaking his head, he said, "I'm fine."
But that was enough to give it away. She glanced down. She almost missed them, they were so light – but still present. Bruises on her upper arms. And if she placed Daryl's hands over them, she would bet anything they would fit perfectly. Using the posture of crossing her arms over her chest and hugging herself to cover the marks she gave a huge shrug. "I'm fine, too."
Slowly, he turned to look at her. He searched her face and then finally nodded. Good! She was learning to speak Daryl-ese. One day she might be fluent!
"So what do you think?" she finally asked to change the subject. Also, she wanted his opinion on the events that had just transpired.
"'Bout what part a' that?"
"The fact that there is no central group trying to do anything … we're alone."
The hunter took another swig and situated himself on the couch. "Been alone most'a my life. Don't change much."
Meg nodded slowly, and brought her knees to her chest. "Question," she stated. "What did you say when I was leaving your room last night?"
He eyed her suspiciously. "Ya mean ya didn't hear it?"
"I was very drunk. I'm trying to figure out if I imagined it."
"Ah." He took another swig. "Ya did."
Her feet dropped to the floor as she stared at him, open-mouthed and confused. It wasn't until he stared back at her, a slight twitch near the corner of his mouth that made his lips jump upwards momentarily, that she realized he was pulling her chain. Smacking his arm, she scolded, "That's just cruel. I bare my soul to you and you tease me. That's really not very nice."
"Eh," he put the bottle on the coffee table. "One thing ya got to know 'bout me – I'm not a nice person. Don't ya ever forget that."
She searched his face for a moment and then nodded. "I have no intention of making you into something you're not. I like you just the way you are." It felt nice to be able to say it so openly. Whatever had caught her tongue and made her so shy prior was slowly fading away.
He snorted. "'Fore all this, I doubt ya woulda looked at me twice."
"You're right," she shrugged. "I probably wouldn't have looked at you – more like snuck glances at you. And I wouldn't have realized what I was missing. It's weird how the world ending can put so many other things you'd normally not care about into such a clearer perspective." She frowned. "So much shit doesn't even begin to matter anymore. It's scary. But it's liberating." She realized she was rambling and decided to stop.
After a long moment of him just staring at her, he finally scooted closer. Bringing a hand to her face, he gently cradled her bruised jaw.
"This still hurt?" he asked.
"Not unless I poke it very hard," she smiled. "It just still looks bad." Her grin had drawn his attention to her mouth.
Gingerly, he leaned down and Meg let her eyelids flutter closed… until the lights went out. Shit, that wasn't good.
Daryl immediately pulled back and grabbed his bottle. Downing one last swig, he jumped up and headed for the door. "That doc was holdin' shit back," he said over his shoulder. "I'm bettin' this was it."
After taking a brief moment to feel disappointed that their time had been interrupted, Meg also sprung up to follow him.
"Why's everythin' turned off?" Daryl asked, swinging outside the door. Over his shoulder, Meg realized that Jenner was walking down the hallway all decked out in his lab coat.
"Energy use is being prioritized," he explained.
"Air isn't a priority? And lights?" someone asked. Meg was too busy to pay attention, instead looking for Mandy – who was pulling up the rear. With a last glance at the back of Daryl's head, she turned back to fall in step with her friend.
"What's going on?" Amanda asked, equally as confused about the situation.
"Your guess is as good as mine," Meg shrugged, glancing around. Everything was dark. And how far down were they? "I feel like we'll be finding out soon. Rick isn't going to let Jenner continue to be this ominous."
"Hey, hey!" Meg's ears perked up at the sound of the redneck's voice. "What tha hell does that mean?" Though they were too far a head for Meg to get a clear look at the two men at the front of the line, she realized Jenner must be continuing to keep mum as Daryl added, "Hey, man, I'm talkin' ta ya! What do ya mean it's shutting itself down?" What was shutting itself down? What the hell was going on? "How can a building do anything?"
"You'd be surprised," Jenner threw over his shoulder.
The men who had gone off investigating finally returned. That didn't make Meg feel better at all.
"Jenner, what's happening?" Rick stomped up to the doctor.
"The system is dropping all nonessential uses of power," Jenner simply recited. "It's designed to keep the computers running to the last possible second. That started as we approached the half-hour mark. Right on schedule," he pointed to the clock. They only had little more than a half-hour. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.
Jenner took a huge gulp of the whiskey he had taken from Daryl.
Yeah, something was very wrong.
Everyone glanced at each other without speaking. The night before, Jenner had rejected the hard liquor, saying her preferred wine. The fact that he was sipping whiskey straight was frightening. And so very wrong. When he handed Daryl back the bottle, he snapped it back and glared at the doctor. Then, the hunter glanced back to where Meg was standing with Amanda. He squinted at her. His hunter-senses were probably tingling.
"It was the French," Jenner finally said. When that didn't make sense to the group, he explained, "They were the last ones to hold out, as far as I know. While our people were bolting out the doors and committing suicide in the hallways, they stayed in the labs until the end."
The end?
"They thought they were close to a solution," he finished.
"What happened?" Jacqui ventured.
"The same thing that is happening here," Jenner just couldn't quit being ominous, could he? "No power grid. Ran out of juice," he shrugged. "The world runs on fossil fuel. I mean, how stupid is that?"
"Let me tell you," Shane hopped up the stairs, trailing after Jenner angrily. Rick intercepted him.
"To hell with it, Shane," he tried to hold his friend back.
"I don't even care," Shane pulled out of his grasp.
"Lori," Rick turned back to the group. "Grab our things. Everybody get your stuff. We're getting out of here, now!"
The group shuffled towards the doors, but they didn't make it out of them, as the room began blinking with red and alarms pierced the air around them. Meg just looked around in wonder as someone asked, "What is that?"
VI came to the rescue, "30 minutes to decontamination."