Curative

By Kaimaler

Time to expand on the relationship between her partners and Laura. This will be a bit complicated.

I don't know if I still have the same decent ability to write anymore, but I'm trying to get back into the swing of it. So I apologize if I'm not up to task I am working on it!

Pop some reviews, tell me what you think! :)

Merle was rummaging through some old abandoned house on the outskirts of the main road. They had found an old overgrown gravel road that lead to what appeared to be a home. It was mostly empty signifying it was abandoned long before the outbreak happened. No one lived out here in a house like this with no furniture and no signs of someone considering it a home.

There were no pictures of family or friends, no decorations, and nothing that told her this belonged to someone. It was empty and covered in dust, the beds had mattresses with no sheets or covers. There were no curtains on the windows or utensils in the kitchen. This house was another grand waste of time, but Merle wanted to go inside and look anyways.

He was not the best survivalist she noted, though he was inventive when it came to getting out of bad situations. Though his record with her told her he was not someone she wanted to trust, he had never deliberately engaged in her torture or experimentation. Merle remained on the outskirts of it all taking care of the Governor's dirty work beyond the walls of Woodbury. Merle did not seem to mind.

Sure he knew exactly what was going on, it didn't keep him awake at night. She was between Woodbury and a group of strangers, Merle knew what happened to people in her position. The Governor was not a kind man and that suited Merle's style. Protect number one, namely himself above all others.

The building he found was empty, full of dust and old boards. Merle stepped out of the house and started walking back down the gravel road with Laura right beside him. He did not have to tell her to move, she just did when she knew it was time.

There was one thing that interested him about her. Merle often thought about that day in Atlanta, thinking they were all done for. It was apparent they survived, he could hear the truck outside and watched as Rick hurried the others down to the loading dock. Without the key, the one T-Dog dropped, Merle was trapped dying of exposure to the Georgia heat and the walkers tried their hardest to stretch their hands through the crack in the door.

She was there that day, he remembered hitting her. It was not his hardest hit ever, she was small and did not require a lot of force to put down. He figured himself more capable of surviving in this hellish world, yet he was the one chained to that roof in the end. Not that he cared outwardly what anyone thought of him, Merle just wanted to know where his brother was.

It was true Merle often took any job the Governor had to go farther and farther our for supplies just so he could look for his brother at the same time. He did not disappoint however and always managed to bring something back for Woodbury. The people loved him, hailed him as some kind of champion in their gladiator arena and when he returned with supplies from beyond the wall. He had a pretty good life when the Governor was not asking him to do something.

Merle eyed Laura suspiciously, as if he knew she knew something. She was never but a few feet from him and covered him from walkers and the living. Whatever job the Governor wanted her for she did it and Merle knew he was safer than anyone else out here with this weird clawed woman at his side. She was a force out here, this was where she performed the best. Walkers ignored her and the living, when seeing her strapped together in leathers and spikes, feared her.

Appearance aside, Laura was part of the Atlanta group and had returned with them to the quarry. He tossed around the idea if she knew Daryl or not, he knew his brother was out hunting when he left for Atlanta. The others kept Merle and Daryl outside the heart of the group, they were the odd men out. Laura was not like them and Merle saw her immediately get along with T-Dog and the rest.

He could not see his brother associating with a woman like her. She was small, when she showed up on the roof that day she was stuttering and timid. Merle intimidated her, gave her a black eye, and made remarks that disgusted her. Merle was not on her friends list he knew that much, but here she was walking beside him, shoulder to shoulder, watching his back.

Whatever happened to the Atlanta group must have been bad for her to be out here. Merle knew there were others with her, a group the Governor said of eight people. Though he was not given the chance to ask, Merle wondered if one of those eight might be his bother. The Atlanta crew leaving her there? He figured she was left behind just like him.

"So what happened to that little party of yours back at the farm house?" He started and waited for any sign of acknowledgement. She did not give it. "They leave you there to fend for yourself? You killed quite a few of our guys, lotta damage for someone so damn small." Still Laura ignored him and he was not about to give up. If there was something she knew about Merle it was his love for talking out of his ass.

"Yeah... It's rough out here all alone. Never know who you might come across." Merle said it and meant it. Woodbury was one of those groups. "You know I ain't like them. I wasn't in that room beatin' the hell out of you. That was all the Governor and his guys. Buncha pussies they are, unwilling to get their hands dirty. Sure they'll do what he tells em, but they got weak stomachs." He referred to a few events where the Governor and his kill squad wiped out smaller groups unprepared for them. How they found cutting these people down barbaric.

"They don't understand how the world is. It's all shit and we gotta evolve with it or die. Not that hard, it's us or them. I know you know that." Merle elbowed her jokingly, "You sold your friends out back there. Eight of them, huh? Not a big group. The group lead by that cop, Shane. There were more than eight."

Laura's eyes flicked to him, but her head remained straight. It was a little unnerving to look at. Merle didn't care, she is a walker and that's why she wore the muzzle. They were not afraid of her infecting them, they just could not risk the people asking why their men and women returned with bite wounds. She never stopped or even hesitated when someone was taunting her. Laura felt cornered all the time, their attempts to intimidate or abuse her certainly did not help.

"You don't seem to remember much." He raised his arm up, "You remember when I lost this? Where we were?" He watched her. Laura knew how he lost it from what he told her already, but did not know much else. Merle had not told her anything other than being chained to a roof in Atlanta. She wondered how he expected her to know when he lost it.

"No- there ain't nothing there anymore." Merle stared at her, a slight sneer on his face. "Man whatever they did to you it was bad, huh? Bad enough to make you forget when we first met."

What a one sided conversation. Laura mused, doing her best to keep her focus on their surroundings. There had been one or two walkers around, just stumbling along. Nothing noticeable though; nothing to distract her from another of Merle's long rants about the world and his shit luck. I have shit luck too, you oaf. We're both in Woodbury, we're both fucked.

Merle could see she was not concerned with him. "Who was it with you? You remember enough to tell the Governor how many, but who were they?" Laura distracted herself with glowing rain clouds above them, they were dark and moving fast. They were going to get caught in the storm and be forced to wait it out. She found she enjoyed water so it was a welcome change from feeling Merle staring at her.

"Hey, I asked you a question." He growled, perturbed by her complete disregard of him. She was never easy going, so to him this was intentional to anger him. What really was going on was Laura's desire for this storm to be heavy, thinking about being surrounded by water. It felt like going to sleep peacefully, like all her stress was washed away.

Merle grabbed her again by her leathers, his grip stopping her dead in her tracks. "Listen here, I want to know who was with you. You said there were eight of them, so you know who they were and if you ain't telling me just to spite me, you're gonna be sorry." He had that long sneer on his face and Laura just stared at him. How would she tell him? Though the leather bit and spikes piercing her face?

Laura just shrugged, her left shoulder in his grip lifting her, making the shrug very awkward. He held her just inches from his face, as if he was trying to hold her close to tell if she was lying to him.

"My brother, was he with your group?" Merle lifted his arm covered by the metal plates, "He's about this tall, carries a damn crossbow, name's Daryl. He was with the others at the quarry, with the group you went back with. So where did he go?" Merle eyed her, trying to find any hint of recognition.

Instead, Laura tried to think about his question. A man with a crossbow and blood to Merle. It was hard to imagine anyone being related to Merle, he seemed the kind to abandon everyone and everything the moment shit hit the fan. She looked down to their feet, trying to come up with anything. He was convinced he knew the people at the quarry. Maybe she did and didn't remember; there was a lot she couldn't remember anymore.

What if he's right? She frowned, or at least tried to. Are these people that I knew? Does it really matter? Should I know them?

"He ain't the talkative type and he don't associate with no squirrelly things like you. My brother's a survivor, woulda cut ties with you assholes the moment he saw me gone." Merle dropped her, her boots tapped on the ground as she shook her jacket back in place. Straightening out her clothes that he pulled out of place, Laura scratched her jaw with her shoulder.

She remembered something, a person in a truck. A filtered memory the infected brain let her keep. She was with some people and sitting in a truck with another man. He had a crossbow on his back, telling others to hurry up.

Is that...? He looked at her and asked her what she was doing there. She said she was going to help get- Merle. Laura snapped her head back to the man in front of her and nodded. She remembered that at least, he called her a bitch and demanded they leave now. He was clearly pissed off did not much care for her. Laura sighed, what a pleasant memory.

"You know what I'm talking about now?" Merle watched her nod, affirming his questions. "You know my brother?" Again another short nod and he grinned. "Well alright then, we're getting somewhere. Was he with the group you told the Governor about? Is my brother alive?"

Laura pulled what she could from hazy memories. Not much came of it though, the memories of people in that house were limited. She remembered talking to them, telling them something that angered her. They were not happy about it and she was livid. The memory was incomplete, like watching a video with no sound. Whatever was happening she could not make it out. Laura could not see him in the room with her, with those people. It did not mean he was not there, but that she could not be sure.

So Laura shrugged, she did not know. Merle accepted that answer nonetheless. It was more information on his brother than he had heard in months. Wherever the group under those cops had gone they were not at the quarry anymore, Merle knew that. This one, this girl who was on the roof that day, was all the way out here without anyone.

Something happened to them and Merle wanted to know what. He also knew he would not get it from someone whose memory was as messed up as hers. She was unable to give him anything but knowing his brother.

Laura knew something else though, something she could not communicate with Merle or even rationalize herself. As she looked back on memories about Merle's brother, this Daryl who she had spotty images of, she felt something there.

Some memories came back with it. Knowing who Daryl was she had quite a few memories of him. Laura saw him on the ground, two men taking bats to him in an alley while she felt hands pulling her away.
Another memory of two men fighting, someone she knew immediately as Shane and the other as Daryl. They were angry, yelling something, and broke into a fistfight. She was between them, trying to stop them from hurting each other.

The people in these memories were familiar, but strangers at the same time. She had quite a few clear instances of Shane, the man who choked her, hit her with a shutgun, and put a gun to her head. He called her one of them and told whoever else was around that he was going to put her down. That mustn't have ended well for him. I'm still alive and he's... somewhere I guess.

Laura kept just behind Merle now, lost in her own thoughts. A recollection of moments in her life of which very few were complete. Most involved faces through a thick haze, like a corruption of data she had no way to piece together what was happening. She watched some of these memories play out and knew some were wrong, they felt wrong. Something was not right in her head.

Am I crazy? She balked, she did not care for the idea of being a mad woman surviving in this world. It seemed like it would be a hindrance.

Merle kept walking, a smug look on his face as he thought of his brother. Laura had seen him, knew him, and it was enough to reaffirm to Merle that Daryl was alive somewhere. In truth it was a minor bit of information that did not much serve to help him or his search for Daryl. It was a memory from so long ago that it told him absolutely nothing.
But it was enough for Merle.

They found themselves at an old gas station before long scouring the empty shelves for anything. Merle immediately went behind the counter and found a stored shotgun the shop keep had kept for security. It was a decent find, but not enough to help Woodbury out. One shotgun was pitching in, five shotguns was proper support.

Though ammo would be a problem eventually.

Laura grabbed a few things, items that could be useful for repairs and maintenance around Woodbury. Oil for their cars, wiring that could be used for extended the range of their generators. Very little else was left, but she took what she could and returned to the gas station entrance. The glass front was a major weak point for them, anyone could sneak up on them.

Merle set the gun on the counter, grabbed a few pack of cigarettes and lighters, before hopping back over. He rarely ever scavenged tools and items for the infrastructure of Woodbury. He was here for the armed guards and defense, Laura would get what she could to further development. It ended up working hand in hand, which made them a good scavenging team for the Governor.

Her bag was weighed down with oil and supplies, his made room for a shutgun and cheap nicotine. Laura just figured whatever worked for him so long as she was left out of it.

The day would not go off without incident however. Just like usual, something crept up on them to make their lives harder. A small group of five made their way to slowly surround the gas station. One at the back door, two on the far side, and three crouched up front. All armed to the teeth with automatics, a few grenades, and machetes.

They were ready to jump two people out wandering alone. It would be easy with the numbers and weaponry, but they did not expect the woman of the two to spot them so quickly. The moment one of them neared the entrance, her head turned.

"Mmrl!" She hissed quietly, frustrated with the bit in her mouth. Merle looked at her, watching her gesture him to get down. He did as she said and the two got down below the shelves, trying to get out of the way. Merle crouched and made his way to the shelf beside her, they both remained a bit spread out. Getting pinned down would not help anyone.

Merle had his pistol ready and Laura had her rifle up. They were coming in, but Laura and Merle were cornered in the station. They were too far in to make a run for the back door and too visible to make it passed the one Laura heard out front.

"You ready girl?" Merle teased, he was good at this part of the job. Laura had no issues with it, these people would kill them without a second thought. She would return the sentiment.

The front door was not opened, but rather the rifle one carried blew out the glass and fired into the room. Bullets tore apart the old rotting wooden counters and stands, but they were well out of the way by then. Laura and Merle kept their heads down, both catching the sound of a door being kicked open from the back. Merle saw the sunlight come through the back, someone entered the station.

He kept tight to the wall, knowing this one was his. Laura was blocked by the shelves between herself and the counter, far too busy watching the front. When the man just began to peer over the edge, Merle opened fire. His aim was not the best without his other hand, but it did the job. The attacker who looked out over the edge earned himself a bullet through his skull. The body fell with a hefty thud.

Merle grinned wickedly, pleased to have taken one down. There was more he knew, but anything to improve their odds.

Laura was aimed at the door, but kept scanning the glass front as best she could. They were just below the windows, trying to remain covered while they made their entrance. The first sign of movement was the other three making it in position behind the brick then standing to see through the glass. Laura saw them stand, pulled the barrel of her rifle to aim at one, and they fired first.

Three automatic weapons began to shred the shelving unit she had ducked behind. Her head low to the ground, hoping to not get shot. They fired an entire magazine into the room throwing shreds of paper, plastic, and clouds of dust everywhere. The noise was incredible, she had never been the target of three rifles before. She felt a few graze passed her, but they had not aimed low enough to do serious damage.

Merle was a bit luckier, he had been behind the furthest shelf. The bullets failed to pierce three rows, the last of them being metal. He made it without a scrape.

Laura shook off the dirt that had begun to settle and raised her rifle up to return fire. A quick shot hit on in the neck, the others just grazing him. The man fell, choking on his own blood. Now that she could hear them moving, smell them nearby, she knew exactly where they were. Three left, all hiding just below the windows.

Not willing to sit back and let her do all the work Merle stepped up, using the new shotgun he picked up and blasted the front door, tearing the bottom half off its hinges and just scratching the man hind it. Laura heard him grunt, hissing in pain as the buckshot cut through his skin. It was not even close to being fatal so the man hung the rifle off his shoulder and drew his pistol.

Another man stood, ready to fire on Merle who had ducked below the far side of the counter. He had a clear enough line of fire to Merle but Laura took the shot instead, six shots all piercing the thick coat and bringing the man down. His grip on the rifle tightened and he fired anyways, the spray cutting a line through the building to hit her upper arm. Laura yelped as the bullet entered, her hand grabbing the wound.

Another man stood from behind the wall and raised his rifle to the side of her head. She was trying take her shot, but lost her cover as the shelf fell off to the side unable to support itself any longer. She stared at the man who lined his barrel to her head, "Put the gun down!" He demanded and she raised her hands, hanging the rifle strap off her hand.

In a split second decision Merle came from behind the counter, he took his chance and Laura felt his blood splatter the side of her face. Merle had a wide, arrogant smirk on his face. Laura nodded to him and he nodded back, some kind of silent mutual thank you. The man, who had been completely unprepared for this fight, was pressed against the brick wall panicking.

Merle and Laura stepped over the debris and he forced the broken door open, offering Laura a hand out. A bit surprising, but she accepted it all the same. Releasing the wound on her arm she took his hand to slide over the fallen stand that blocked the door. Blood from her gloved hand hit his and he noticed, but did not speak up. They stood outside to relax a moment, the man behind the door holding his pistol, shaking, and frozen in place. Laura stretched her neck and took the pistol from Merle's hand, aiming it at the man and pulling the trigger. His body slumped against the wall.

He had long gone into shock, they were all armed but inexperienced. The firefight was unnecessary and barely strained them. Laura and Merle did not spray and pray. They took their shots when they had them, these people just figured they'd open fire and clear the room of anything. Including furniture. These people never had a chance.

Laura gripped the bullet wound and they both began searching through the bodies for supplies. They definitely rounded up the weapons and ammunition. These people were loaded with guns and bullets, they must have hit a gun store they were a walking armory. Merle was thrilled to be able to take this back to Woodbury. This was the haul they were looking for.

It would not be easy to carry it all back, but they didn't walk out this far just to get shot at and come back with a shotgun with five shells left. They took it one step at a same, filling their bags first before carrying the others in their hands. There was enough for Merle to have three, one on his back, and one in each hand. Laura already had a pack on, now filled with supplies, and one in each hand.

They were returning with a decent bounty for two people out here alone. The walk back would not be particularly fun, especially considering the weight of these backpacks stuffed with weapons, ammo, food, and tools. At least they would not be returning empty handed.

It was hot out, but the storm clouds overhead had finally began to blanket the area. Rain had not shown yet, but they both knew it was coming. Laura was never tired, not like Merle was huffing along carrying the heavy equipment. She was strained though, her arm was on fire. The bullet had entered her arm but not exited, meaning it was still inside her doing damage.

With her clawed gauntlets they made her wear she could not get the bullet out. She would have to grit her teeth through it and wait until they got back for the doctor to help. She did not like that option, he would likely be curious to something else and find another excuse to experiment on her. She did not much like the word experiment. He took a scalpel to her skin, cut open various sections, and tested the functionality of organs, and bone density. He often remarked he was amazed to see no decomposition.

Laura found that alarming, why did her body not rotting surprise him? She is what she is, that was the end of it.

Merle's opinion on her appeared to change daily. Sometimes he liked her, joked with her, and other days he could not stand to be around her or anyone. His mood swings were legendary.

As they marched down the road back to their car, Laura felt her arm giving out. She could survive any wound that a walker could, but died if shot in the head. Her body still reacted like a human body though, the bullet had severed various muscles and the strength she had in her arm failed her. Laura dropped the backpack and it clanged as it hit the ground.

She stopped, flexing her hand. Some muscles could not respond her to commands, her arm fell weak and bleeding. She tried to grab the backpack's handle and lift it again, her arm pulled and made it off the ground, but could not keep it and her arm released again. With a deep sigh Laura reached with her right hand, already carrying one pack, and tried to pick it up.

Though it was difficult, she managed to lift it, completely off balance. She started to drag the packs on the ground, doing her best to pull them along.

Merle had stopped and saw her struggle to carry the packs. He had been sure to give her the smallest ones, knowing he was far stronger than her. Still she was having difficulty. He knew she was shot, when she took his hand back at the store she had blood on her hand and was holding a spot on her other arm. It just happened to be one of those days.

He waited for her to catch up to where he was standing, when she began to pass him he dropped one of the packs and put his arm in front of her to stop her. Confused but listening, she looked up to him and waited.

They could not just sit out here and patch her arm up in the open. It would take too long, but they already ran into one group he did not want to run into another and risk losing their bounty. Merle spotted the empty house down the gravel road and gestured her along to follow him. She followed his lead, not knowing why they were heading back there.

He took the pack she was struggling to carry and lifted it over his shoulder, now carrying four and grunting under the stress. They made it to the house in better time though and he tossed the backpacks inside, they slid on the ground and hit the far wall. He stomped inside, Laura right behind him. She set the packs against the others by the furthest wall.

Laura looked around the room, it echoed with every step. No one lived here well before the infected came along.

Merle approached her, bunching the bags up so she could sit on them. She did as he wanted and he came to kneel in front of her, pulling her left arm forward. There was a hole in the jacket and blood soaked the area. He felt up her arm, finding no such hole around the back. That was not good for her, a bullet wound with no exit was painful.

He would have to get her jacket off to reach the bullet wound. So he did his best to grab the front of the velcro sealed jacket, the hand-blade trying to hold the jacket in place without accidentally stabbing her and his other hand tearing open the jacket. Immediately she jumped, her clawed hands grabbing his arms and pushing him away.

Merle frowned and tried to get back to it, only to have her sink her gauntlet claws into his forearm, the other scraping the metal of his replaced hand. She glared at him, unwilling to budge. He had been rather rough manhandling her like that and she took it the wrong way. There was no fight in her to beat Merle, but she would still try to deny him.

"Girl, what the hell are you doing." He pulled his arms out of her grip. "I'm sittin here trying to help your ungrateful ass least you could do is help." Laura's head tilted, unsure of his intent. She did not like anyone removing her clothes without her permission. There was enough of that, Merle was not going to be a part of that. In a rare instance of compassion, he was making his way to remove the bullet from her arm and patch her up.

Of course he had no ill intent for her like the other men and women of Woodbury did. He was the only person there willing to stick his neck out for her. She shot the man about to shoot him and he paid her back by shooting the man that had a gun pressed to her head. Now he was helping her again knowing the wound was the source of a significant amount of her pain.

"I'm trying to remove that bullet lodged in your arm. Unless you want it there." He growled at her. She rotated her shoulder taking note of the stinging pain. Her brow furrowed and she gave him a very slight nod. "Good. You ain't helpful if you can't carry a damn bag - they ain't that heavy. We'll patch you up and get back on the road. Need to make it to Woodbury before night."

She agreed, it was dangerous for him at night. He would be unable to see anyone or anything, she could help but she was only one person after all.

Merle went back to tearing open the velcro and working the jacket down her shoulders. He could see angry red scars along her neck, showing someone had cut it through with something particularly sharp. There was a branded mark on her collarbone and layered scars. "Damn girl, they did a number on you, huh? You look like you're covered in stripes with all them scars." He pulled the jacket down her left shoulder, seeing her twitch as the material was pulled away from the wound.

Inspecting the wound, he turned to his own pack he carried and searched inside. In a small side compartment he pulled out a pair of pliers, already red with old stains. He had used them before and they were going to be useful again.

Laura readied herself as Merle brought the pliers up to her arm, getting them steady in his hand before giving her a warning look. She sighed and nodded, Merle brought the pliers to the wound and drove them inside the flesh in her arm.

She stomped her foot involuntarily, her hands clasped and scraping against the metal they were both wrapped in. He used a bit more pressure to drive the pliers down to the bone, finding the bullet. He wasted no time, when he felt the pliers grab the bullet he pulled it out. Blood soaked her arm and the pain was terrible, but he did it. He dropped the pliers and grabbed a piece of cloth from his pack.

Red blood stained the rag and he wrapped it around her arm with an old sleeve of a shirt he tore up weeks ago. He knew she would not bleed out and did not need it, from what the Governor told him about her. It was a force of habit and so he did it anyways.

Merle pulled the jacket back over her shoulders and closed it up tightly, the same as she had it before. Her arm felt worse than it had done as it had been opened with pliers and had a bullet pulled from it. Eventually the pain would subside into a duller throb and she had him to thank for it. The trip would have been much harder had he not taken her aside to help.

He was satisfied with his work and put the pliers back in his pack. Laura grabbed the wounded area, it did not hurt so much to hold anymore.

She reached out to the gruff man in front of her and nudged him with the back of her hand, careful not to cut him again with the metal gloves. He looked at her and she looked directly at him then closed her eyes slowly slightly inclining her head, trying to convey that she was truly thankful he had helped her. Merle was not soft of anyone though and he just gave her a jot nod.

He stood up and looked out the front window, only to find the storm had rolled in. It was heavy rainfall, making it hard to see far at all. He raised a hand to the back of his neck, "Looks like we ain't going anywhere. Might as well get comfortable." He kicked a few packs together and laid across them. Not the best place to rest, but better than most out here. He put his hands behind his head and watched the rain.

Laura watched him move about the cabin, still sitting on the packs. Her arm was sore, her body was tired, but she could not sleep. Knowing she enjoyed the water Laura stood from her seat and opened the front door, earning a curious look from Merle. She stepped outside and left the door open, letting him know she was not going far.

She left the house for the rain. The rainwater drenched her, she felt heavy but remarkably comfortable. It was as though the water soothed all her aching joints. Like sleeping in a feather bed, she felt wonderful. She sat on the front porch steps, allowing the water to keep washing over her as long as the storm remained.

The water reminded her of something. She had two memories she could recall. One memory she hit the water and found herself unwilling to leave the water.

"Shit- I'm so fucking lost." She groaned. Laura was holding onto the roots of a tree, submerged in water off the edge of a bank. She ran off the edge and into the water when she pulled herself up she had no idea where she was.

Water. Again she felt the luxurious brush of water over her body, cooling her overworked body. It was a divine feeling; to be well rested again. She missed sleeping quite a lot, not so much because she needed it but just because she wanted it. Those hours of resting her head, not thinking about anything, not feeling. Just asleep.

"Laura!" She heard a voice so familiar yet strange. The memory was vivid when she opened her eyes the bank was as clear as the ground under her feet. A man slid down the muddy slope, another vaulted the ledge and landed in the water. He came to her first. It was the same man from the truck, Merle's brother Daryl.

He came beside her, holding her chin up and scrutinizing her for any injuries. "Hey, you alright?" His voice was low and much softer than the memory of him in the truck. He regarded her gently with genuine concern for her well being. Laura was surprised to see this, but it felt good somehow. Just him being so close to her made her feel better.

"I'm fine, just met a very unwelcoming fall when I ran over that edge there." Laura saw her hand point to the ledge she tripped off of. "Trying to find Rick and Sophia, ended up getting lost." She felt the heat of embarrassment, being lost so easily. She had no natural sense of direction and it made itself known today. Lost in the woods, she was thankful they found her.

Daryl stood up beside her, leaning over to offer her a hand up. She took his hand and he lifted her, the weight of the water felt like it was trying to bring her back down. She wanted to go back with it, but something made her prefer Daryl over the comfort of water.

"Where's Sophia?" The man she had addressed as Rick asked her, he was looking around behind her expecting to find something. Laura was confused, she had no idea who Sophia was.

"I don't know, went after her when she bolted but y'all were way ahead of me. I can run fast, but I hadn't join the chase til pretty late on." She was ringing out her shirt and hair, trying to reduce the water weight. "I was hoping you got to her."

"I did, I left her right there." Rick pointed to a small nook under the tree roots. A portion of them were eroded from the water here, but there was no one there and Laura knew she had not seen anyone there.

"I- I'm sorry Rick, when I got here there wasn't anything here. Certainly no Sophia." Laura frowned, a bit more embarrassed she had not seen Sophia. She was worried she might upset someone with this news, but the situation was more upsetting than that.

A man she already knew to be Shane came up to her, a finger in her face. "Bullshit! I bet you took her off somewhere, didn't you?" The implication was dreadful, but Laura did not mind anymore. She had taken a bite out of people and swallowed that bite. When this memory took place she was extremely offended. "Had yourself a good meal, didn't you? I bet you were real hungry." He was glaring at her as if he wanted her dead right now.

"Hey, shut the fuck up!" Daryl defended her. The man who she remembered calling her a bitch in the back of that truck. He stood up for her.

"That's disgusting!" Laura was revolted at the time, but her knowledge today told her she would not hesitate to eat someone anymore. She is one of the dead, not the living. And the dead ate the living. So Laura would partake of any food given to her, human or not.

"Shane, that's enough!" Rick stood up for her too. The two men flanking her protected her, clearly they all knew what she is but they did not care. Shane did, but the others wanted him to back off.

"I would never do that! That's- that's just- ugh!" Laura waved Shane off, tired of listening to the man accuse her of cannibalism. Laura then had a problem with it, believing herself one of the living. Laura now found nothing wrong with the assumption on Shane's part. After that she ignored the looks Shane gave her and turned to Rick who caught her attention.

"Laura, I'm sorry about Shane but we don't have time for this. It's already getting late and we need to find Sophia." Rick had a concerned borderline desperate look on his face. This person who was missing was important to him or at least finding her was. She listened to him.

"Yes absolutely. Do we have any idea where she could be?" Laura continued, hoping someone had a clue.

"That's why I brought Daryl out here, I was hoping he could track her. See which way she went." Rick looked to Daryl behind Laura and they all went back to work finding Sophia. Daryl took it as a sign he should start trying to find signs of Sophia being here where they found Laura. He moved behind Laura, his shoulder just barely brushing hers. She decided she liked that.

"You sure this is the spot?" He could not make anything out under the trees. If Sophia was here she was careful not to touch much of anything. The water was disturbed under Laura's fall, but not enough to hide Sophia's tracks out of the water and up the muddy bank.

"I left her right here. I drew the walkers off in that direction, up the creek." Rick pointed his path out, not that it particularly helped. Just told Daryl Rick was sure this was where he left Sophia.

Laura ignored them talking, looking through the memory like a window into her life. It was clear and made her feel as though she was floating. It was peaceful even though the memory was urgent. Watching Daryl work, looking at how gently he regarded her. He cared for her clearly, that was not the touch of a rough man like Merle. Daryl was soft to her, kind, and considered her as a person.

Rick had done the same, though the treatment was not the same it was still compassionate. He was worried when he saw her in the water, angry when Shane accused her, and relieved when she was able to stand on her own. There was concern for her and open sympathy. These were people that cared for her, thought of her as one of them.

She felt overjoyed to be treated so well. These people held her to them like a friend or family. Laura could feel herself on the verge of tears, a combination of happiness and longing that swept her.

Laura came to stand on the bank at the bottom of the slope everyone had climbed up. Shane had been helping everyone up but when she came to reach for his hand, he left her there. She stood there, unsure how to feel about that, with everyone at the top and leaving she guessed she had to try climbing alone.

Until a hand stretched out, waiting to take hers. Laura saw Daryl's face and she accepted his hand. He pulled her up carefully, grabbing hold of her with her other hand and bringing her up the bank. He steadied her at the top. "Thanks." She smiled lowly, still a little rattled from the ordeal.

"No problem."

There was a sad smile on her face, her body cold but feeling far better than she had in months. She did now know when she started crying, but she knew she was. The cold rain mixed with hot tears on her face, her body shaking as she sobbed. She did not think Merle could hear her from inside the house as she tried to remain quiet.

She had some kind of feeling for his brother Daryl. There was more there than just someone helping her, he treated her so well it made her happier to be by his side rather than resting peacefully in the water.

Another memory she could see vividly was painful. There was a burning in her leg and she remembered and she was completely submerged in deep enough water. The first time she ever felt so blissful.

She was floating under the surface of the water, her body hitting the bottom of the creek bed. She did not float like most people, there was almost no air in her lungs. She would slowly be pulled to the bottom of the water if she did not attempt to swim.

In this case she had fallen into the water by way of an injury. Something happened and she had landed in the creek, happy as could be. She forgot the outside world and immersed herself in this ecstasy. It was not long before this joy was interrupted of course, she never seemed to have time to just be.

Hands had grabbed her, pulling her out of the water and onto the stone bed just above the water. Breathless and bleeding was Daryl, now partially soaked. He was lifting her out of the water, dragging her out by wrapping his arm around her midsection and his other arm supporting hers until she was finally out of the creek. Not that it was a relief to be out, she was a bit disappointed. However she did still feel rather content being held by this man.

He was out of breath and hurt. Walker corpses on the far side were fresh, telling her he had killed them himself.

"What a day." She smiled, trying to make light. He nearly died, it was not the time to remind him that he nearly died. "Started out fine and all then this happens. What fun." Laura groaned as she ran her hand down her aching leg. There was a bright bloom of pain as she tried to move it herself. She saw something curious in the memory, a metal brace supporting her. She had worn them long enough not to be bothered by them anymore.

Laura stood up, shaking. Unsure if her legs could support her weight anymore. They hurt something awful and the fall before she hit the water had not helped her situation. She made a pained expression, trying to handle the discomfort privately so as to not concern him.

"You hurt?" He asked, noticing despite her attempts to play it straight. She was limping and that could not be helped though. Laura dropped herself onto a log to sit, trying to rest and work through her pain. Nothing was helping really, she only ended up focusing more on it.

Daryl approached her, checking her over for wounds. While he looked her over she felt herself being concerned about him too. He was bleeding from his side which was wrapped in torn sleeves. It was definitely a recent wound and with dead walkers around that he killed she feared the worst for him. It was a strange feeling to Laura, to be worried over someone else. In her situation there was no one else to care for. But in the past she did have someone to fear for.

"Not too bad, need to dry out a little before climbing that slope though." She answered him, more interested in his injuries.

When she tried to stand again Daryl held his arms out to balance her. He was ready for her in case she fell, but Laura just waved him off. She was capable of doing it alone just as he was capable of wrapping himself up. But her clothes were heavy with water and she needed to work on climbing that ridge with Daryl soon.

Laura removed her shirt, ringing it out and watching the water splash onto the stone below. She patted her hair with her shirt, trying to dry it out to it would not get in her way when she had to make the climb. She was much more relaxed at this time, Laura noted that. She had no time to relax anymore, just constant work, stress, and tests.

When Laura turned to Daryl she saw him staring at her shirtless, still wearing her bra so she was not half nude. She decided she also liked Daryl looking at her body for whatever reason. She felt something for him, something she did not know how to act on. The was most certainly passion there, she felt for him differently than everyone else.

This man, the man Merle was searching for, was standing in front of her watching her ring out her shirt and hair. He was looking at her chest, not her face or anything remotely appropriate. For a moment she felt a bit turned on by the idea of him finding her attractive. She thought he was attractive, but she also felt a deep passion for him. There was a romantic attachment between them that much was obvious.

Laura though changed quickly. The feeling of his eyes on her stomach and breasts no longer pleased her. Instead it made her uncomfortable and a rushing fear struck her heart. Now whatever this fear was made his gaze unwelcome and she did not want him to look at her anymore. To stop this she pulled her shirt back on over her head and straightened it out, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"Stop staring." Her skin crawled, she ruminated on dark things that made her feel small, helpless, and hurt. She wanted him to stop so he stopped the moment she asked.

"You're bruised up real bad." He averting his eyes from her torso to her face, focusing on her reaction to his words. He knew something was up and wanted her to say it first.

"Yeah, the fall was pretty bad. Got banged up." Laura spoke lowly, the lie as awkward on her lips. He could tell too, both from the bruises he saw and how she answered him. She was not being honest.

"Don't lie to me." The warning came, but it was not threatening. "Dammit girl, they ain't normal. That was a hang print, I could see it and it ain't in a place it should be." This realization upset him and she was surprised to see him so distraught about it. He initially had watched her take off her shirt and wanted to see her shirtless. When he did he got more than he wanted. Those bruises were the marks of men who had taken her against her will; not that bruises meant much if she had been with someone. It was the severity and how she reacted when he mentioned them that told him they were not made consensually.

"It's just one of those things y'know. Some collect stamps other people collect coins and I just can't stop collecting bruises. Some people right?" The weak joke did not deter him in the slightest. He did not care if she tried to deny him answers, he would get what he wanted.

He was visibly bothered, disturbed thinking about someone raping the girl he came to care for. It was not something he could think about right now. They were stuck at this creek and they both needed to get out. So he pushed it from his thoughts for now. "Need to get outta here, but this ain't over. I want an answer."

Laura sighed, knowing Daryl was persistent when he wanted something bad enough. She would not be able to lie to him forever; she wasn't even good at lying to him now.

Laura was smiling but still felt hot tears soaking her face even through the rain.

The man Merle asked for, the memory she had of him being nasty in the back of the truck. It was a moment that evolved into more than she ever imagined. When she looked at her memory of Daryl's face she did not hate him or find him annoying. Laura felt strongly for him, a longing to be near him again.

Whatever Daryl and Laura had was real, those memories solidified her feelings. She loved Daryl and he returned those feelings in his own way, a way she adored. He made her feel like she belonged somewhere and that someone wanted her. It was the best feeling in the world to her. To be herself and be loved for it.

Rick cared for her like family, Daryl felt for her in his own haphazard romantic way. She wanted to see them again, to find more memories of them being around her. It gave her a kind of excitement she had missed for so long. With no other memory of her life, these short snippets of her time with them were all she wanted. So she thought about them a lot, focused on the look on Daryl's face when he saw her shirtless how he wanted to feel her at one point than wanted to protect her the next.

She lavished herself in memories of being cared about while she sat in the downpour outside.

Laura was not aware of Merle having watched her go outside and checked on her from the doorway. He was not one for emotional baggage though he had himself a fair share of it. He did have an inking of feeling for her.

The amount of scars on her, the branding, the muzzle and gloves they had forced her to wear. He knew that it was all painful, but he didn't know her and ignored it. He watched her on the steps, obviously sobbing over something, and could not bring himself to ignore her.

He would not get involved in this, he'd leave her alone for now. Merle went back inside to sleep the rain away while Laura sat on the porch steps and thought about her friends from Atlanta.

It was a complicated and long night for the both of them.