(A/N: Later than expected but here is the next re-write. I'm choked I wasn't able to get it all rewritten thus far by the weekend but unfortunately work duty has to come first *grumble grumble* and it's not likely I'll have anything uploaded before the weekend, it's a CRAZY busy week. But I'm still chipping away at it, and now that we're going to have to endure two months of hiatus hell writing and reading fan fic…and possibly obessessively rewatching episodes is going to be how I make it to Feb so…we have lots of time for new chapters right? ;))

Chapter Four: Vatos: Pt. Four

As far as holing up in any given office building, or any floor of such building, Analeigh did alright for herself in one respect. While her new found "home" was far from what she would call comfortable exactly, it was secure enough to stay in for the time being, which was really the only thing that actually mattered anymore.

Even in ruin, it bore all the makings of what must have been some booming business when things were still up and running. A law firm maybe, or an insurance brokerage, some high-end corporate center, or an elite advertising agency. It was something noteworthy whatever the case was, but now just a ghost of itself concealed behind heavy oak doors run through and ruined just like the rest of the city.

Stacks of office papers and assorted mail blanketed the floor in every direction. The walls were scuffed and stained, decor and paintings were skewed as they hung if not toppled to the ground. Doorframes were cracked and kicked in. Potted plants, chairs, and desks were overturned. Even glass office dividers were smashed to bits and left littering the ground with piles of crystalline shards. It was hard to tell which was creepier or more depressing, the state of Atlanta as a hole, or one the one lowly section of office space that now essentially comprised Analeigh's world.

By comparison, living out by the quarry seemed like heaven on earth. At least out in the thick of the country it was possible to pretend that everything was as it should be, even if it were just for a moment. At the quarry, there was enough that needed to get done to keep thoughts occupied and hold the mood slightly lighter than it probably should be. If not that, at the very least, they could still pretend that they were just out on one long camping trip. Life was still good when it was possible to avoid reality and even above that, they had each other for luxury of a little company. Poor Analeigh didn't have the privilege of anything at all by comparison, but on the other hand she had survived thus far and all things considered, that was something not everyone was still around to lay claim to. To survive, was a rarity at the worst of times, and something she should take more pride in than she probably ever would.

Not having been around anyone for weeks, having others suddenly thrust into her presence was a nicety as much as it was a hard ship. Rick and the others continued to pose a billion questions and most often in rapid enough succession that it made it difficult to get much out in the way of an answer to one laid out without being smacked with the next. What answers Analeigh was able to give to completion spun off into aspects of the groups own experience, though that in itself she was a little more open to conversing about than everything they wanted to know about what had happen to her since the shit hit the fan.

Close quarters did about as much to help the strain of friendly conversation and sociability just about as well as whatever lingering mistrust for the men Analeigh still played over in her head. With the company of four new "friends" what had once been her not so spacious have grew even tighter by the second, it seemed, even before the decision that they would all hole up in the largest office space for the evening. Skepticism and lingering mistrust of the men, however little it was, continued to play with her mind and close quarters did nothing to help. Despite her Analeigh's protests it was decided they would all hole up in the largest individual office space. What had been and still was Analeigh's somewhat spacious haven was anything but. She wasn't pleased about the entire situation as it was; it was a means to an end type of deal and even then Analeigh could barely tolerate it. Now, having been arbitrarily out voted on just what the temporary living conditions would be like, she was just a little more than put out. Four men spread out amongst the general disarray of the office was enough as it was. Add in the haphazardly stacked supplies she had gathered, the hurricane lamps, and the small amount of personal belongings strewn about and claustrophobic didn't come close to being a strong enough descriptive word. Analeigh needed to get away from them; get away from the polite conversation and company. She so desperately needed a moment to herself, just to calm her head down, breathe and readjust, even if it so happened to come while tending to more unpleasant matters than just a simple, refreshing step out. Any reason to duck out inconspicuously was good enough for her; beggars couldn't be choosers after all.

She slipped away when everyone else was embroiled in some sort of grand conversation about plans and it was quite certain nobody would care to take much notice of her leave at all. It was quiet down the hall, dark and empty, and in an odd sense, almost soothing. Analeigh half considered just sleeping in out in the open floor plan of the office or in the next best space she could find. But the way the broken windows let the breeze gust through the building, however, reminded her of just how cool it could get at night. Curled up on the floor, miserable and shivering wasn't how she envisioned, nor intended, spending her evening just on account of unexpected company of any sort.

Rounding the corner she gripped the wall and awkwardly hobbled into a small area that once served as some form of lunchroom for employees. Used dishes cluttered the skink and a couple empty water cooler bottles were heaped in the corner beside an packed trashcan with garbage scattered here and there across the floor. It wasn't the freshest looking room, and quite frankly she was surprised it didn't smell worse than it did, but unfortunately the kitchen was where the first aid station was. If the only time she had to sneak to herself was right then, she had no choice but to take care of her leg; she'd been harassed enough about it as was and if she could clean it up a bit maybe she would be granted a reprieve.

With grimace Analeigh side stepped a puddle of thick mystery liquid seeping from under the fridge and hoisted herself up on a narrow countertop next to an industrial looking sink. Gingerly, she stretched her leg out in front of her and slowly inched back the hem of her skirt, careful to take her time as though it would have some sort of positive impact if she didn't rush. Just as always, however, disappointment and shattered hope was the name of the game. Clenching her teeth tightly, she hissed as she pulled back the last but of material and set her eyes on a rather disheartening sight. Thick strips of dull white gauze wound securely around her thigh, criss-crossed with two scraggly ends twisted and fashioned into a tight knot to keep the whole mess in place. Most of the wrap had been solidly pasted to her skin, soaked through, stained bright crimson and laden with a significant amount of fresh blood. It was clearly something more than just any small cut, as she so insinuated, and with a defeated sigh Analeigh set about the task of tending to her affliction.

Bandage more or less pasted to her skin, she pulled up the edges gently and slowly unraveled the entire mess from her leg one saturated layer at a time. Sucking the air between her teeth, Analeigh flinched every time a piece would pull at her skin, tugging away from the semi dried crust at the edges of what was revealed to be a deep gash running almost the entire length of her thigh. Dark green thread laced through her flesh, a good dozen stitches held the top of the wound closed precariously while another half dozen more were quite uselessly spit and splayed nearer to her knee; undoubtedly broken open on account of her spill down the stairs. The skin around wound was raw and enflamed, caked with dried blood and what dirt she could never really quite get properly cleaned away. Hardly the way anyone would home an injury of such degree to look during any stage of healing but try as she might, Analeigh could never do much to make it look, let alone heal or feel any better with what limited supplies and know how she had at her ready.

Jarred by the sight of her broken stitches and the thought of having to go through the ordeal of having to sew her own flesh shut again, Analeigh couldn't help but let the tears come. She hated looking after her leg, every day it got a little more unbearable a chore to do and it wasn't because it was an uncomfortable task, or that it was somewhat gruesome to have to do. More over it was the fact that no matter how many times a day she tried to look after it and no matter how careful she tried to in protecting it or keeping it clean, the wound simply refused to mend itself. All of her effort thus far had been for so little in the way of progress, and now half of that was efficiently undone. One more thing to have the proverbial knife at her throat and her back against the wall. One more thing in a long list that would stack the odds against her and make what was left of her life next to impossible on a good day.

Supplies were running low, and moving about a city crawling with walkers would be as good as ringing a damn dinner bell. Analeigh had already pressed her luck once in moving from one part of the city to the next while bleeding like a stuck pig, and she felt more than confident in guessing that sort of thing was a one-time deal. She was never going to get far on her leg in the state that it was in. Wound aside, Rick had been right in questioning the stability of her ankle as he had. She could manage enough speed over short distances to avoid being nabbed by a swarm of the dead, but walking for hours with her scent in the wind and unable to move much faster than everything that wanted to tear her limb from limb would have her doomed from the get go.

Analeigh wanted to go home. It was all she longed for in the world was to get out of the nightmare into which she had wandered and it was the one thing she couldn't have. That was the real heart of the matter, whether her leg ever healed properly or not was beside the point in her opinion. All she wanted was to be home, and instead she was sitting in a filthy kitchen tending to her wound with gauze that wouldn't be enough by half to re-bandage with.

"Shit."

Analeigh half jumped out of her skin as Rick's voice sliced through the room without warning.

"If that's what you call nothin' I'd hate to see what somethin' looks like to you."

"Jesus," She hissed, quickly swiping at her tears as she fumbled to pull her skirt back down over her leg. "You can't knock or something?"

"Sorry," He shrugged an apology and mustered a sheepish smile. "Didn't mean to scare you, I just came to find out where you got to."

"Well, congratulations," She sighed. "Looks like you found me."

"I did."

Rick's attention riveted on Analeigh, unwavering and not about to up and leave until he had a few more answers at the very least. He knew that she knew he had seen how bad her leg was, and now that he had he wasn't just going to up and let it slide. He would have been happy to have humored her a little longer, let her play down just exactly how badly she was injured, but even in the dim light of the kerosene lamp it was clear obliging her was no longer the best course of action.

"Somethin' you need?" Analeigh cast a nervous glance over her shoulder and balled up a wad of gauze in her hand.

"No…not that I can think of."

"Alright then…"

Rick circled around to face her, arms folding across his chest and eyes locked on hers in disbelief. "How long were you gonna go on pretending that isn't what it is?"

"I ain't pretendin' nothin' and I told you to just leave it be."

"Now, how can I do that when you know damn well you can't mind that on your own? That is bad and that is…" He whistled lowly. "That is somethin' else."

"It's fine." She replied quietly. "I'm fine."

"You know, you're startin' to sound like a broken record player."

Analeigh shot him a glare. "So what?"

"So, I don't know who you're tryin' to convince with that, me or you?" Rick smirked a little and leaned back against the counter beside her. No matter how closed off Analeigh had talked herself into being, he had about a million and one ways to pull what he needed out of her and he wasn't opposed to spending all night doing just that. "You're a tough nut to crack."

"Do me a favor and spare me the tacky one liners." Analeigh huffed. "I'm…"

"Fine, I know." He finished her sentence. "You're stubborn as a mule but you're just fine."

Rick turned his eyes downward and drummed his fingers against his thigh in thought. She was hardheaded; there was no questioning that much. It went without saying though, that it wasn't exactly a stretch to make the assumption that said toughened exterior and unwillingness to bend was little more than an adaptation to her current environment. Letting her guard down and letting someone in at the very least would make Analeigh seem weak to anyone close enough to take advantage. Weak people didn't make it on their own and being tough as nails was one way to go about surviving, maybe the only way she knew of by his approximation. Rick had always been good at making people see things from a broader perspective, however, making them see things in a way that they might not otherwise have ever considered and in a way that would let him help them if they couldn't do for themselves. If he was good enough with his words and his manner, he felt like there wasn't anyone he couldn't get through to if he tried hard enough and Analeigh was no exception.

She needed his help, of that much Rick was quite soundly convinced, and not just on account of her leg. It had to be terrifying being stuck in the city without a soul to call a friend, fending for her self and never having a moment to truly ease up in her vigilance. Somewhere buried deep down inside he, he knew that Analeigh did in fact actually wantsomebody's help no matter how much she denied it. It didn't even necessarily have to be his when it came down to it, though he imagined his offer would most likely be the only one that would come. Stubborn little spit fire as she was, Rick knew deep down all Analeigh wanted was someone, anyone on her side just as they all did. The least he could do is try and wear her down a little, make her see she didn't haveto be all on her own if she didn't want to. Even if all night, he would chip away at her formidable front for her own benefit if not in some ways for his own.

"You stitch that yourself" He arched a brown and gestured to her leg.

"Guess I must have," Analeigh snarked. "Unless you see someone else around here could have done it for me."

"Must of hurt like hell with no anesthetic." He hissed through his teeth. "Tough girl…brave too."

"Brave and tough's got nothin' to do with it. We do what we have to so as to get by right?"

"I suppose." He agreed. "That's more than I could ever do for myself though."

"You'd be surprised when it's do what you gotta do or sit there and bleed to death." She shrugged. "It's a shit job, doesn't even wanna close up."

"Won't knit and you still wanna convince yourself you're just fine?"

Analeigh hung her head slightly, lost for words and once again wishing she was anywhere other than where she was at present.

"Just a look." Rick said gently. "I ain't gonna hurt you."

"Yeah…"

"I promise." He dipped his head slightly and caught her eye line once more, doing his best to impart some sort of reassurance that could ring through to her.

Setting her jaw in a momentary last flare of defiance, with a shaky sigh Analeigh complied and slipped the material of her skirt upwards. She hated being put on the spot and forced to do things more than anything. That aside, it was quite clear that Rick was just not going to let the matter rest until he got his way and she didn't have the mind to hear it ad nauseum until morning.

"Happy?" She spat, seething at herself a slightly for relenting.

"Not even a little." Rick grimaced, pulling the lantern a little neared. "It hurt?"

"What do you think?"

He held up a hand in defense and gestured for the gauzed tucked in her hand. "You mind sayin' where you got this?"

"Broken glass." She muttered, her head slung low and eyes cast to the side.

"Really?" Rick furrowed his brow, not particularly in the mood to revert back to milking answers out of her. "Must have been a big ass piece of glass to do that."

"It was."

"And you jut so happened to have enough luck to meet up with it." He tore a small piece off the larger wad of bandage with his teeth and saturated it with the remnants of a small bottle of disinfectant.

"Luck's one way to put it." Analeigh smirked. "It was a broken glass door…I fell."

"Just like that?

"No…not exactly.

Rick turned his attention away from the wound momentarily and met her downcast stare. "Then what exactly?"

"I was uh…" She cleared her throat, chasing back a lump of emotion building in her chest. "Gettin' away."

"Walkers?"

She chuckled. "If you think the dead are the only things out here that'll kill you, you're either naïve or pretty damn delusional."

The penny dropped and Rick shook his head. "Looters."

"Wouldn't be the end of the world with out 'em." Analeigh joked. "Best I can figure they stick to where the apartments are mostly. Works out better for them I guess, being easier to get more supplies. There ain't nothin' much to raid around here except for office supplies. That's why I came to stay out here. Guess it's where I shoulda just come to begin with, woulda saved myself a shitstorm if I had."

"What happened?"

Rick dabbed at the edges of her would as gently as he could, cleaning the dirt away before swiping lightly at the opened area.

"Ain't important." Analeigh replied, avoiding detail as much as she could. The last thing she needed was a full-blown recounting to make her relive everything she didn't want to. "I made a stupid mistake and this is what I got for it."

"They hurt you any?"

A sad smile splayed across her face. "You could say that."

"That how you got that shiner?"

"Yep," She nodded. "And ain't it a beauty?"

Rick chuckled and took another few swipe at the wound, falling silent as he worked. Surveying her leg to take not of any missed dirt, it was then that he first took notice. A secondary set of bruises much different from the others scattered across her leg. Even in the dim light of the lantern they stood out against her skin clear as day, almost like a beacon specifically meant to draw his attention. These bruises matched near perfectly, one long distinct bruise on each inner thigh and a small cluster on the outside of her good leg that all but screamed finger marks. More than enough to drop Rick's heart to his as the pieces came together in his mind. He had seen that sort of bruising but a couple times before and there wasn't any question as to how exactly the poor girl had managed to come by them.

"Analeigh…" He mustered a sympathetic glance upward. "Honey…"

"I don't want to talk about it." She rasped flatly, eyes now brimming with tears and wringing the hem of her skirt in tiny clenched fists as though it would some how help her escape another push of emotion. "Please don't make me talk about it.

"My God…" Rick whispered, a good mix of disgust and anguish on Analeigh's behalf passing across his features.

"I can't…" She lapsed momentarily and a gut-wrenching sob wracked through her body.

"It's okay…you don't have to…you don't have to say anything." His hand fell softly on her shoulder, drawing a sharp flinch as Analeigh pulled away from him slightly before relaxing under his touch.

"I was just trying to get home…" She choked again. "I just wanted to go home." Another sob, and then another and rubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand as she tried to reign in her composure with no real result. "I can't stay here, but I ain't gonna make it back even if I try so I-I don't know what to do. What am I supposed to do? No one can tell me what I'm supposed to do…" She turned big watery eyes upwards towards Rick's imploringly. "Where am I supposed to go now?"