She awoke to raindrops softly brushing her face. She reluctantly climbed from the sweet grasp of sleep, where she was safe and warm in her husband's arms and was immediately jolted into the reality of the situation. Lori Grimes knew she had to get back to the security of the Alexandria Safe Zone.
She needed her children, Carl and Judith. She slowly stood up, the pain from her left arm brought a scream to her lips.
HER.
She had to get back. She couldn't risk the harm coming to her children. SHE was their mother, not the woman who demolished her marriage, shattered the lives of her children and left her for dead. Searching through her pockets she found a small flashlight, which helped just a little to guide her back home.
Whatever home was nowadays.
She knew what she had to save her own life. There was nobody around to help her in the dark, and as she stood stoically there was no stench of rotting bodies from the dead. She was safe, for now. Her right fingers searched her back or the clasp of her bra. She unhooked it, shimmied out of the garment, and wrapped it around her bicep, tightening it with her teeth. With her flashlight back in her pocket she reached into her right boot, retrieving the pistol she always carried.
She remembered Merle Dixon. He was alone and had to cauterize the wound.
Pausing to regain her composure and knowing from her training as a nurse that she had a limited amount of time to get medical attention, she moved faster towards the neighborhood. The light drizzle turned into a steady downpour.
I need to stay awake. She said to herself.
She looked to the sky, opening her mouth to the cool water, almost as if God was finally giving her a break for once. With a renewed, fierce determination, she inhaled sharply, focused on the familiar path in front of her, and started a small jog.
Each step felt heavier than the one before it. Dizzy from the blood loss, exhaustion and hunger, she forced herself to focus on the rugged trail that laid in front of her. She found the large hanging branch from an oak tree, the branches sticking out like fingers from a horror movie.
Walking past the tree and seeing the boulder with part of the top missing, the abandoned Chevy and finally the hollowed-out tree stump, she knew she was close. The familiar wall came into focus, and a tuft of red hair turned his head to the noise. She quickly grabbed her flashlight and flipped it on, focusing the beam onto Abraham's face.
"Get the gate!" She heard him bellow.
She heard the commotion and the door opening slowly, just in time for Tyreese to catch her as she collapsed in his arms.
Lori felt the cool compress of the wet towel on her forehead. Waking up now was different from the last time she awoke, whenever that was.
She slowly opened her eyes and focused on the face she loved from the moment she saw him.
"Carl." She said weakly.
"Hey mom. You're okay now." He dipped the cloth into a bowl of ice water, wrung it out, and replaced it on his mother's face. The sun started to pour through the windows, flooding the clinic with warm, natural light.
"Judy?"
"She's safe. Carol has her. Just rest." Lori wanted to go back to sleep, but she knew she had a job to do. Doctor Pete Anderson had taken care of what was left of her hand, and the soft whiff of burnt flesh hanging in the air let her know the stump at her wrist was taken care of. Thank God I was asleep for that.
"Do you want to talk about what happened?" When did her boy become so grown up? She thought. I guess I did a good job on my own.
As she opened her mouth to respond, the clinic door flew open, crashing into the wall.
"Oh my God. You're okay."
Rick.
Her skin went cold and her stomach turned. She had to get away from him.
He slowly walked up to her, holding his hand in a way a police officer would tell a suspicious person to do. He was slightly trembling, and his eyes were red-rimmed and overflowing with tears.
"Lori, you're okay." He whispered. She noticed a fresh bruise on his cheek and a fresh cut above his eye, then turned to her side, away from him, and pulled the worn flowered sheet up to her chin.
"What do you want now, Rick?" Carl snapped.
"Just…she's alive. I can't believe it."
"Yes, she is. You can go now, Rick. We don't need you anymore."
"Carl." He reprimanded sternly.
"What? You don't get to say a word to me. She's never going to be your wife again, but she's still my mother. Just go." He pointed to the door.
Pete made his way downstairs with a fresh bag of IV fluids and a syringe to alleviate the pain Lori was in.
"Rick, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave." He whispered.
Pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, he pled, "Can I just stay here? I thought she was dead."
"Well, she's not. You're no longer needed here, so do what you always do and leave, Rick." Carl seethed.
Pete slipped on a pair of purple gloves to examine the cut on his forehead. "You're gonna need stitches."
Paying little attention to the good doctor, Rick walked to the opposite side of Lori's bed, getting close to her own tear streaked face. "Lori, please."
She cleared her throat and slightly winced as she tried to sit up. "Just go."
"Can you at least tell me what happened?"
Not even looking at her former husband, she muttered, through gritted teeth, "go ask your whore."