Disclaimer: Bla, bla, I don't own anything, bla, bla.
A/N: As always, thank you so much to everyone who takes the time to read my story. Also, I keep forgetting to mention it, but on my profile I have some links to pictures and stuff of my characters and the music I listened to while writing. Feel free to check that out. If you have questions, concerns, etc. please feel free to pm me.
Also this chapter has a bit of 'colorful' language, so if you don't like that kind of thing…well don't read it…
Please enjoy. Even better, review!
Lena woke to angry voices. They surrounded her, rankling her senses and demanded her attention. She tried to open her eyes but the lids, heavy with exhaustion, refused to cooperate. Through the cage of her long lashes she could vaguely make out shadows, outlines of the people standing around her.
Now conscious, her memories came rushing back with a vengeance. Her head pounded with the force of them, whatever pain meds she was on making her instantly nauseous.
She remembered the leaves, red and yellow. The dogs running toward her. The redneck with his sleeveless shirt, bloody and torn.
And the boy.
The one who shot her.
She could feel the pain in her shoulder now, feel it wrapped up tight. Someone had bandaged her wound. Perhaps she'd misjudged these people.
Well, not the boy.
The stupid boy with the gun and the too big hat, he could go fuck himself.
But besides him maybe they weren't so bad.
Why would they stitch her up if they meant her harm?
She could see the gaping holes in this logic but knew she didn't have any other options, so she decided to just roll with it.
Still unable to open her eyes fully, she tried instead to listen in on their conversation. They seemed completely unaware that she was awake, the voices only intensifying in volume and anger.
"You saw what she did to Glenn! She's dangerous!" A young woman's voice declared in outrage.
"She's just a scared kid. Times like this, you can't blame her. She doesn't know us. She didn't know if we were friendly or not. Now I'm sure she wasn't looking for a fight, just trying to survive." A man's voice rebuffed. He sounded tired, like he held the weight of the world on his shoulders.
"If she wasn't looking for a fight then why did she come back?" Another woman asked expectantly. Lena vaguely recognized this voice but couldn't place it in her drug-induced stupor.
"Ain't it obvious? She came back for the mutts." She immediately knew the deep rasp, the southern twang. It was the redneck. His shadow was closest, as if guarding her.
"We don't know that for sure." The familiar woman countered irritably.
"Well what are we going to do with her?" Another woman, soft-spoken, asked.
"We're not going to do anything, aside from help her get better and apologize. Then we let her decide what she wants to do." The tired man replied, resolute.
"Maybe she could help us." A young voice, a boy, piped up. The room went silent at the thought.
"She talks a lot in her sleep, in Spanish or something. She keeps saying names. Maybe they're her friends. I think she has a camp, somewhere safe with other people. Maybe she would let us come with her." The young voice continued, the hope in his voice palpable.
Lena mentally scoffed. Spanish? Really? She was almost offended.
"She's not going to be interested in helping us. She stole Daryl's weapons and hurt Glenn. What's stopping her from killing us in our sleep and taking our supplies?" The familiar woman said expectantly.
How about a bullet wound. Lena thought sarcastically.
"We can't trust her. The fact remains: she is dangerous. What are we going to do about it?" The familiar woman asked.
Jeez! Lena thought. She couldn't believe these people saw her as such a threat. It kind of made her feel like a bad ass.
Like Angelina Jolie in Tomb Raider or some shit. She mused, losing interest in the conversation momentarily.
If they had any idea what a spaz she truly was they wouldn't be so worried.
"We could just leave her here. Keep her handcuffed so she can't follow us. By the time she gets free she won't know which way we went." The soft-spoken woman suggested.
"What and make her cut her own hand off just like my brother? That what you want?" The redneck shouted angrily. His shadow moved closer, forming a barrier between her and the group.
He obviously wasn't a big fan of the idea.
Strange he would defend her after the outcome of their first meeting, but Lena wasn't complaining. At least someone was on her side, as far as not cutting off her own hand or some crazy shit like that.
Wait, what! As that thought sunk in she decided she wasn't liking these people so much anymore.
"We are not leaving another person handcuffed and defenseless. It's not right!" The tired man declared, his gruff voice firm and unyielding.
"Rick, we can't afford to worry about—" The woman interjected.
"This isn't a discussion! I'm not leaving a defenseless kid to get picked off by walkers or worse. That's the end of it." Rick said, cutting her off.
"She's not our problem!" The woman yelled back.
"From what Daryl's told us, the only reason she went after Glenn in the first place is because he stood between her and getting away from Daryl." An older male's voice drawled from further down the hall in a clear attempt to diffuse the argument.
So the redneck's name was Daryl? Lena scoffed at that.
Total redneck name.
She chuckled weakly at her own internal musings and realized only a beat too late that she'd given herself away. The bickering immediately ceased at the rusty sound of her laugh.
The jig was up.
She cracked an eye, finally in control of her basic faculties and found herself looking right at this Daryl. He stood over her with an amused look on his face, like he'd known she was awake the whole time.
"Can you blame me? I mean look at him, he's a scary looking mother fucker." Lena spoke up finally. Her voice sounded gravelly and rough to her own ears. The redneck shook his head but she saw the telltale sign of a smirk on his lips and it calmed her considerably.
Taking a quick survey of her surroundings she found that they were in a hallway. It had no windows save for the one at the entrance far down the hall.
Recognizing the awful cartoon zoo animals gracing the wallpaper she observed that they were back in the doctor's office.
Back where this whole mess started. Great.
She counted eight people within her sight, a mix of men and women. She certainly had misjudged them.
She looked back up at Daryl and found him watching her with careful understanding. He knew exactly what she was doing: sizing them up, planning her escape.
In that moment Lena knew, they were very much the same, the two of them.
She tried to lift a hand to scratch her forehead only to realize that her reach was inhibited. The cold clink of metal on metal met her ears. She looked down to see both of her wrists were handcuffed to the metal bed frame.
Trying not to panic she gave herself a quick once over and discovered, much to her absolute horror, that her shirt was gone. In fact the only thing protecting her modesty was a flimsy blue hospital gown and a yellowed old bed sheet.
For what felt like forever, no one said anything. They all watched Lena quietly, waiting to see how she would react.
"Well don't let me interrupt. I'd leave and give you guys some privacy but I seem to be… incapacitated." She bit sarcastically, inclining her chin at her wrists, bracing them against the cuffs angrily.
The screamy-mean woman opened and closed her mouth a few times, having the decency to look somewhat ashamed. She looked down at the ground, unable to look Lena in the eye.
"I'm sorry about the handcuffs. They were just a precaution…" The man, Rick said, stepping forward. He looked apologetic, but his police officer getup struck Lena as strange and slightly untrustworthy; a morbid joke juxtaposed against the background of the post-apocalyptic hell they now found themselves living in everyday. She sneered in reply.
"A precaution for what? So I don't fight back while you're raping me?" She accused, straining against her bonds.
"No! You don't understand—"
"I'd say I understand perfectly. I'm naked, handcuffed to a bed and I just woke up to you people plotting my demise. Sounds fairly straightforward to me. But please, continue, don't mind me…"
"If you can promise to stay calm and have a nice civilized conversation then maybe I can get those handcuffs off for you."
"Uh, how about you go fuck yourself? I don't have to promise you shit. Just because you walk around in that fucking uniform doesn't mean you get to tell me what to do. What're you gonna do? Write me a ticket? Make me spend the night in the tank? Have you taken a look around lately? Cut the shit. If you're going to kill me then get it over with." She ranted, struggling against the cuffs ineffectually. Her wrists were already chafed and red from her movements and she had only been awake for a few minutes. The outburst cost her a great deal of energy and she could feel the nausea creeping back up on her fast as the effects of the painkillers waned.
"It isn't like that. Honest. We're trying to make you better. You got shot." The young voice from earlier insisted.
Lena turned her icy glare toward the chair beside her bed and came face to face with the little freckled boy and his cowboy hat. He stared back at her expectantly.
Carl. Fucking Carl.
In his lap was a Nancy Drew novel and at his feet sat the two dumb mutts that had gotten her into this whole mess. They were completely content as the little boy petted their mangy heads.
Traitors.
She wanted to barf.
"No shit Dennis the menace. You should know. You're the one who pulled the trigger." She snarled.
"Don't you dare talk to my son that way!" The familiar woman snapped, coming to stand next to her son. Now Lena knew who she was. This was the lady she had seen screaming in the parking lot for Carl. The mother.
"Jesus lady, why don't you suck my big metaphorical—" Lena started but was cut off by the redneck clearing his throat and giving her a warning look. She glared back caustically but otherwise saw the wisdom in stopping while she was ahead.
"Whatever." She mumbled petulantly, continuing to glare at the dirty man that stood between her and the vultures.
Silence reigned once more as every one took a moment to assess the situation. But Lena quickly became irritated with this and let out what could only equate to a growl.
"Alright, I have to pee," She stated grumpily, "so are you guys gonna un-cuff me or is someone ready to clean piss stains out of these sheets?"
((o))
Once she'd finally calmed down enough Rick decided it was safe for them to take the handcuffs off and let Lena go to the bathroom. Lack of power, water, and flushing toilets in the building meant that she would have to do this outside. And of course the role of babysitter was relegated to Daryl because he seemed to be the only one who wanted to help her.
A want that was he fast rethinking.
Daryl pushed through the front door of the doctor's office, thankful at least to escape the terrible zoo-themed wallpaper, if only for a little while. With each day they remained here the terribly drawn cartoons felt more and more like some fucked up parallel for their screwed up lives. The smiling giraffe still drove him insane every time he walked by it. More than once he'd considered taking a knife to it but knew the group would treat him like a loon if they found out. Carol would be the worst, asking him about his feelings and worrying about his well-being. He couldn't take much more of Carol's incessant mothering.
Impatient, he held the door wide open as Lena and her two goofy mutts followed after him. The dogs, who's names he'd found out were Sputnik and Stalin (Lena swore up and down that her crazy grandfather named them), saw a squirrel across the parking lot and bolted towards it. Daryl led the way in the same general direction, following their barking. Not missing a beat, Lena started in on him again.
"Are you seriously going to stand there and watch me pee?" Lena demanded, mortified at the prospect. She had never been one to be shy about her body, but she didn't know this guy. The idea of peeing in front of him didn't make her feel empowered or sexy in the slightest.
"'Fraid so." Daryl replied. He didn't exactly fancy the idea either but he still didn't trust this kid enough to turn his back on her. They'd argued about this over and over again for the past twenty minutes and Daryl's temper was fast getting the best of him.
"Why? It's not like I'm gonna pull a shiv out of my vag. It's not Mary Poppin's carpet bag down there." She insisted haughtily.
He pointedly ignored her.
Daryl didn't think it possible a woman as annoying as Lori or Maggie even existed. But this girl was certainly giving them a run for their money. She hadn't stopped pestering him since the moment she'd opened her eyes.
Reaching where the concrete gave way to the trees Lena had to quicken her stride just to keep up with him, nearly stumbling over protruding roots and undergrowth in her haste. They paused just a short way into the woods, the parking lot and the building still in sight. She leaned against the nearest tree to catch her breath and eyed him resentfully.
"Why couldn't one of those women do it?" She almost begged.
"They're all scared a' ya," He replied with a silent chuckle, "'Sides, do I really look that stupid?" He raised an eyebrow at her.
"Is that a hypothetical question?" She replied innocently.
He grunted, eyes narrowed at her clear mockery of him but chose to ignore it.
The whole situation was making him incredibly uncomfortable. But he didn't want to give that away, knowing full well she would in some way use it to her advantage. He hiked the strap of his crossbow higher up on his shoulder and gave her an awkward nod of encouragement to do her business.
"Well get it over with will ya?" He tried to sound authoritative but the intent got tangled up with his nerves. She caught the slight strain in his voice instantly. He watched, powerless to stop them, as her dusky lips quirked in an evil, knowing smirk.
"In case you've failed to notice I'm crippled and require assistance." She stated, her tone acerbic but her words full of insinuation.
He had never strangled a woman before but right then he was weighing the pros and cons of it.
"Unless you've walked me out here just to have me piss my pants. Otherwise you'll have to help me." She continued quite proud of herself. She shifted her shoulder in the makeshift sling as if to make him more aware of the fact.
The sling was made from torn scraps of other old bed sheets they'd found in the office. These ones had little purple hippos on them. He tried to focus on the ridiculous cartoon hippos to keep from throttling her.
He gulped seeing the tattered black jeans she still wore under the hospital gown and realized he would indeed have to assist her and there was no way he was getting out of it.
"Well get it over with will you?" She mocked, throwing his words back at him.
Anger swelled in his chest at her words. He tried to remind himself that just two days ago he'd saved this girls life. It would all be for nothing if he strangled her to death, even if she was an obnoxious little brat.
Taking a deep calming breath he nodded and stepped toward her.
"Alright, turn 'round." He instructed, barely able to contain his frustration. He was almost proud of himself. He'd never been able to hold his temper in check for so long.
Lena froze. She hadn't expected him to actually take the bait. She thought he would just tell her to shut up and figure it out on her own. But now he was calling her bluff and she wasn't sure how to proceed. She hadn't thought that far ahead.
She fixed him with a glare but obeyed his command, turning slowly to face the tree she'd been leaning against.
Just like the night she'd been shot she felt him lean in close, his chest almost touching her back. From the corner of her eye she could see the outline of his nose, cheek, and tensed jaw. His breath was hot against her cheek and she could feel the heat radiating off him at every point where their bodies almost touched.
Again the adrenaline borne from their proximity set her skin afire until she reminded herself this wasn't some lover's caress. He was helping her go to the bathroom.
Definitely not sexy.
Queue the ice-cold bucket of water.
Unlike last time she felt two hands instead of one move around her hips and slide underneath the hospital gown. They came to rest just below her abdomen at the button of her jeans and she let go of the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. The corner of his mouth turned up almost imperceptibly at the sound and she frowned in anger but held her tongue.
He undid the button with a flick of his thumb, the motion causing it to accidently brush against the secret soft skin of her belly. She jolted at the unexpected intimacy of the touch, immediately angry with herself for the show of weakness.
The turn of his mouth morphed into a full-blown smirk as he worked the zipper down.
She wasn't so talkative anymore. Daryl basked in the small victory, however fleeting it might be.
Were she not injured Lena would have elbowed him right in his stupid smug redneck face.
She mentally rebuked herself, knowing it was important to wait for the appropriate time to make her move, and this wasn't it. The thought helped to quell her anger. With it she stood a little taller, even as he worked the worn fabric down to her knees. The once tight black skinny jeans were now riddled with holes and saggy from weight loss and wear.
Daryl tried his best not to ogle her as he pulled the jeans down her legs. But he couldn't help but notice the hidden tattoos the removal of fabric revealed. In contrast to the feathered design he'd seen adorning her left arm, her right leg from hip to knee was decorated by rows and rows of scales of all shades. The design and execution of it all was truly remarkable. He couldn't pull his eyes away.
Lena turned to face him. He immediately looked down at the toes of his battered boots, embarrassed at being caught staring.
"I think I can handle the rest." She mumbled quietly, fingering the flimsy hospital gown nervously. She tugged on the ends trying to pull them farther down to cover more of her legs, hiding the simple black cotton of her underthings. The snarky girl from earlier completely vanished.
The girl before him was once again the vulnerable girl who'd bled in his arms just two nights ago. The one he'd held close in the dark forest and promised to keep safe.
He was instantly ashamed of himself. He felt like such a pervert. No wonder this kid didn't trust them. He felt horrible.
Forgoing his better judgment Daryl nodded sullenly and turned his back, wanting to give her at least this small privacy.
"Thank you," her voice offered meekly, "I mean, for this and for… for saving me."
"It was the right thing to do." He said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He rocked back and forth on his heels as he waited.
"And if it makes any difference, I'm really sorry." She said.
"S'alright, no harm no foul." He replied getting uncomfortable again. He'd never been good at talking to women. Talking to them while they were peeing was way out of his comfort zone. He shifted awkwardly, trying to block out any noises that might make him even more uncomfortable.
"Great, that makes me feel a lot better about this." Before he could even comprehend what was happening he felt her hand come down hard in a karate chop motion at the point where his neck and shoulder met. The blow, although small, caused him to instantly crumple to the ground, temporarily paralyzed.
He stared up at the sky unable to move and knew that once again, he'd been had.
Lena's face was one of absolute shock looming over him.
"Holy shit I am so sorry! I totally didn't think that would actually work." She exclaimed with a giddy laugh. She knelt at his side and pulled the crossbow and the bag of bolts from his shoulder and shrugged them over her bum arm.
"I thought that move was like an urban myth." She said, staring at her hand as if it held the answers to the universe.
She whistled loud for the dogs. The two bulky mutts abandoned the squirrel they'd chased up a tree and ran to her, yipping eagerly.
"Man I miss my cellphone," She reminisced excitedly, "I would've tweeted the shit out of a video of that. We could've been internet famous!" She said more to herself than to him. She shook herself from her reverie and looked down at Daryl lying stiff as a board. She wasn't sure of how long he would stay that way. She had to get moving.
"I'm sorry Daryl. No hard feelings okay? It's just that the loud screamy lady clearly wants me dead for some reason and from what I can tell pussy reigns supreme in this group so even if you guys say no now eventually you're gonna say yes because she'll bitch about it until you're all tired of hearing about it so you'll do it just to shut her up—" She gasped running out of breath from all her frantic rambling.
Turning serious she looked into his eyes, willing him to understand.
"I don't want to die." She finished, resolute.
"Oh and if it's any consolation, before all this, I would've banged the shit out of you." She added randomly, ruining her previous solemnity. His thoughts went to the gutter for a second, his brain turned to mush at her declaration. But it was short-lived when he saw those purple hippos on her sling, mocking him. Blind rage owned his every thought now.
"Stay classy redneck." She said, patting his cheek in an awkward attempt at affection. She pushed to her feet and made a clicking noise with her teeth and tongue, alerting the dogs that it was time to go.
They began walking east Daryl observed as her form slipped out of his peripheral vision.
Right then and there Daryl vowed to go after her as soon as he was able. If not to strangle her than at least to get his crossbow back.
Please comment (it will make me oh so happy!). Kthxbye.