Curative
By Kaimaler
Review replies are at the bottom!
I wonder how many of you recognized the "How much time do any of us have left anyways?" line Daisy used in the guard tower with Red. ;)
Laura-centric chapter. Long time coming, but we're finally going to begin a journey to refocus on our struggling protagonist.
Not feeling entirely confident in this chapter. I rewrote it at least two-three times. Tell me what you think, if this feels rushed or forced at all. :x
I apologize for any mistakes made in this chapter, the last two days have been very long and I am extremely tired. Please allow extra leeway for grammatical or chronological errors.
I have checked the chapter, but if you find any of these errors please feel free to report them and I will do my best to fix them as soon as possible. :)
The scent of gunpowder, fire, and blood filled the cool night air. A breeze spread the smells deep into the prison. Laura lifted her head and heard the gunshots, something was happening just outside her cell and she felt a chill down her spine when she realized she was trapped in this cage without anyway to fight back. She was forced to wait and watch who returned to the prison triumphant.
She could hear the whistle of the wind through the trees as the gunshots died down and an eerie silence filled the air.
Laura stood against the far wall in her cell and waited. She heard sounds outside, people talking, but it she could not make out their words through the concrete walls. The window was the only thing connecting her to the events just beyond the cell block and it did nothing but share with her the aftermath.
Time was hard to keep, it could have been a few minutes or an hour. She was so focused on if she would die in here, trapped like an animal in a cage she was forced into. She did not want to die in here, stuck, unable to stand up and fight. To die without being given the chance to survive. That's all Woodbury was to me. She ground her teeth into the leather bit, That's all being in Woodbury would have ever done for me.
Her heart thumped, the sounds grew louder. She felt a storm brewing just outside these invincible walls. All she wanted was to be free, to be away from the living that provided all the pain in her life.
Rick. She thought about the man in her memory. Daryl and Glenn. They stood out among the memories of Woodbury. Merle was important to her, but she doubted she would ever see him again after being captured. The Governor held no reverence for her life or well being, she did not believe he would come for her. Laura did not realize he would go to great lengths to have her back. She was invaluable; irreplaceable.
That memory of the creek bed... Laura closed her eyes and drifted into the only comfort she had left. They were... Laura heard their words, she knew Shane... Sophia. Shane mentioned her, Rick did too. This memory of Shane yelling at her, saying something about Sophia. That Sophia? The little girl was standing by the cell, scared of the noise. She was crying, Laura could hear her.
Glenn, Rick, Daryl, Sophia... She knew she had lost many memories over her time in Woodbury. It was not as though she believed she had just sprouted into the world fully grown as an aware dead thing. Laura had thought a lot about the past she could not recall, but feeling something powerful enough... the water washing over her in a way she never expected; that gave her the kick she needed to pull some broken memories from a life she had long forgotten.
Thinking back, when she looked at Rick's face she immediately recognized him as one of the blurry faces in that same memory of Glenn. It played on repeat like a clip in her head, constantly replaying every time she needed something to hold onto. When she wanted to feel cared for she would think to how they lifted her from the water, checking on her, all worried something had happened to her.
Rick's face was tired, worn from the stress of his position of leadership. There were lines that were not there before, a kind of grit she could not see on the Rick in her memory. This change from the wide eyed but strong willed man she had known once to a roughed up survivor both alarmed and concerned her. Though she could not understand why she cared. Why she looked at him, looked at how he was dressed, and felt sad.
Then there was Glenn, the first person she saw from the memory. That day at the creek he was looking out for walkers, but he was worried over her. The expression on his face told her while he did not have the time to speak to her, he was thinking about her. It made her want to smile when she saw him, to tell him she understood.
The last person she saw, the last face left covered by the memory, was Daryl. She had known who he was from what Merle said, his description matched this man. More than that, she knew the second she saw him. She could not explain how she knew, why she gave a damn, but she knew Merle would want to know. She attempted to rationalize that is why she was taken. Yet from the moment she saw his face she was flustered, something was wrong and she had no idea what.
A gunshot rang through the air into the prison walls. She felt like sinking deeper into the shadows, wanting desperately to disappear. The girl jumped when she heard the shot, covering her ears as tears came pouring down her face. In a fit of terror she ran back up the stairs, stumbling part of the way, until she found a cell and hid inside.
She wanted to spend her time looking at the faces of these people her earliest memory told her were kind to her. It was completely alien to her, that kindness. Merle had shown her mercy, a certain type of kindness restricted by the Governor. That night when they strapped her into the chair she knew it would hurt, she knew he was there, and she caught his face. It was stern, he was holding it for her and for the Governor standing right beside him.
Had she the ability she would have told him not to feel guilty for what was going to happen. It was not his fault he had compassion, she never wanted him to feel guilty for that. She needed that, someone to help her, she didn't know what to do and just accepting it was getting easier and easier. A truth that terrified her to her core.
Merle saw her, as she is entirely, and had never brought her harm. He never attacked her, beat her, nothing out on their long runs together. In absolute privacy or in public; he never once even attempted to do her wrong. The first time he raised his hand, he beat a rapist off of her. She had wanted to repay him for that, but instead he was made to sit through what became the worst torture she had experienced yet.
The wound still excruciating to touch. She did her best to not touch it on anything. Not like it much worked, she consistently kept getting hit or falling on it. Defeated the whole purpose of her fighting to keep people from either hitting her, attacking her, or even just generally touching her stomach. The stab wound from the woman she had been chasing still hurt too, though significantly less.
She wondered how much more blood she could lose before dying. Curiously, she wondered if blood loss would kill her at all or if it was not needed anymore now that she is what she is.
The door clicked and swung open, footsteps and stumbling. A number of people were entering the building, a few of them tripping over their own feet when they entered. An immediate and powerful scent began to fill the room and she found it to lift her spirits. The smell was bright, strong, and she knew it the second it reached her.
Apparently someone had come for her.
"Move!" A voice barked, someone else for sure. "Keep them here. Sit down, hands on the table, and stay! Any one of you moves before we tell you too, we'll blow his damn head off." For certain that was not someone in this group that locked her in here.
The footfalls of thick boots crossed through the room and grew closer. She dared not get excited to be freed, but she could feel her stomach filled with butterflies. Had he actually come all this way, fought into the prison, just to rescue her?
Her anticipation reached its peak when a man started to unlock the door to the cell block. She watched impatiently as he fiddled with the keys before finding the right one and shoving the door open. "Come on, move." He pushed someone through the barred door, a man she had only seen for a second before. Tyreese was his name, he had spoken to the others quite often.
He entered the cell block, sweating and holding his side. He was hurting, but she could not see a physical indicator of his injury. She watched him only for a moment before she saw him. It was as she hoped; Merle was here to get her out. He looked to her cell and gave her a wide, lopsided grin.
Merle inspected the cell around her, the chained door, and sneered. "Looks like our pals ain't doing you any favors." He commented on the cell she was kept in. "Looks like they don't give a shit about you after all. These people not the saints they claim to be, huh? Ready to come out of there?"
Laura approached the bars, her wrapped hands on the metal poles. Her eyes met his and conveyed a complicated range of details he tried to keep up with. Merle's nose twitched and he gave her a wink, letting her know he was listening. Merle stepped back, allowing the man behind him to approach the bars. This man, a man from Woodbury looked at her and raised a pair of bolt cutters to the padlock.
She was a bit conflicted being freed by this man. Looking over him, she recognized his smell. Her eyes scanned over him, down to the hands bracing the bolt cutters in place. A healed bite mark on the thin flesh between his thumb and index finger; a bite she gave him before the muzzle was strapped onto her. It had scarred, still a little pink.
A boiling hatred for this man built in her stomach, but she kept herself tame. Woodbury had come for her, proving she was invaluable to them and they could reach her wherever she was. Even able to siege a prison though she expected Merle was more to thank for that, he was good with strategy. Always able to figure out the most successful path to take, though his brutality meant he was willing to take the path that killed those he considered expendable.
The bolt cutters snapped shut, the padlock clanging to the floor and the chain hung loose around the bars. The man grabbed the chain, yanking it from the door and he backed away. Tyreese watched as Merle opened the door and Laura stepped out. Her appearance in full view, nothing hidden by shadows or the corner she sat in. He was disturbed to say the least.
Her blue skin only accentuated in the moonlight shining through the bars. She was absolutely not what he expected and he came to understand what Red meant. Laura raised her hands, wrapped in some strips of clothing that were torn, but hanging on enough to keep her from a full range of motion.
Merle grabbed her arm, inspecting the wraps. "Smart. The cop do this?" Laura tilted her head and blinked, not enough for anyone else to really understand. Merle got her, he knew how she communicated was quiet, hidden from most. He pulled her arm over to another man, "Get this off her, ain't no sense having a walker around if you don't let it fight."
The man got to work, a different one she did not recognize. He smelled of Woodbury all the same. Strip by strip he tore the material off, doing his best to unwrap her hands quickly knowing how impatient Merle was.
"Put him back inside, keep on 'em." Merle waved them out, Martinez pulling Tyreese back into the mess hall with the others with a gun still trained on his back. Tyreese moved, scared for his group, scared for the people they met.
The torn pieces of cloth fell to the floor and Laura's claws were once again free. She stretched her fingers, feeling the knuckles and joints crack and pop. It felt good to have her own weapons back. Laura looked up to Merle and her eyes flicked to her gauntlets, to him, to the mess hall behind him, and back to Merle. She was trying to communicate the information he had been hunting for months.
It was not entirely clear, so she tried again. The men beside Merle not paying attention, watching the group back in the hall. Laura looked to the wound on her shoulder, the trailing blood that had dried on her arm. She pointed to the dried blood and to Merle, her eyes glancing to the room again and back to him.
"You've had worse-" Merle started and she shook her head, pointing more vigorously at the dried blood on her arm and pointed to Merle's chest. "What, dry blood and..." He frowned, she repeated the motion. Starting with Merle then pointing to the blood and back to him.
It took him a moment before he began to catch on. "Blood? My blood-" He blinked as she nodded, affirming he was right. She gestured to the area around them and pointed to the ground. "My blood... here. Girl, you talkin'-" He looked around, making sure the others in his group were not listening. He lowered his voice, "You sayin my brother is here?"
Laura nodded quickly, "Daryl, you saw him?" She nodded again. "He ain't in there, you know where he went?"
She pointed out of the room, put her hands in front of her and held onto an imaginary steering wheel and pointed out again. Communication was challenging at first, but Merle was surprisingly intuitive with this made up sign language. "He gone? He comin' back?" Laura shrugged, pointed between them, and punched a fist into her other palm.
"He's... gone back to Woodbury. An attack?..." Merle grimaced. If he attacked Woodbury the Governor would not allow him to stay - this complicated everything. He wanted his brother back, he knew the Governor was strong and doubted this group could win. "They took Michonne... she must've told them where Woodbury is. Only way, I know you wouldn't talk."
Laura gave him a lame look, one that asked if he was joking about her muzzle. It was harmless and she appreciated the humor after being locked in the cell so long. After all the stress she was feeling in the single day she had been here, she was glad to be out. She was glad to be with her partner again, trying her best to ignore what that meant.
Merle ran his hand over his jaw, "I figure it's too late to catch up with 'em now. They've probably already reached Woodbury. Lucky for them we were gone, ain't no way they'd survive if the crew was there." Laura figured that meant Merle brought almost all of the more experienced guards at Woodbury. The people who the Governor would take to wipe out other groups.
That would have meant when Rick's group reached Woodbury it was unlikely the regular guards were at their posts, leaving Woodbury vulnerable. Part of the plan that they would have no way to know of, no way to tell until they got back here to the prison.
He turned around, heading back into the mess hall and Laura jumped up behind him, catching up with him as he entered the main room. Laura watched him closely, eyeing the back of his head. A growing concern reached her and she struggled to understand why she cared about this, why she cared what he was going to do. For so long in Woodbury she had helped them kill, capture, and torture other survivors.
She frowned, albeit unsuccessfully. She knew there was this dull, ever burning spark she felt when she saw Glenn, Rick, and Daryl. A deep compassion that felt like she was picking up an old book covered in cobwebs and dust. The feeling she got when she saw Rick... it was confusing and frustrating. To look at him and want to trust him, but not knowing why.
And the moment Daryl entered the room. Laura was already scared, feeling cornered, Rick had touched her though harmlessly; she reacted before she knew what happened. She couldn't handle it, the stress was building and seeing Merle stand in front of the group, his usual wicked demeanor... that feeling of being trapped hit her hard.
Woodbury, the Governor. Being with Merle meant being in a cage, the torture, experiments, and violation. She stood just behind his shoulder, showing her support and loyalty to him, but feeling a war brewing inside her.
Carol saw Laura beside Merle. She couldn't believe it; here he stood no worse for wear if she didn't count the missing hand. They were so unprepared she had no idea what happened before a stranger held Tyreese at gunpoint. It happened so fast, they could not do anything. They were helpless and the guard towers had not seen the group break in before Tyreese was taken.
It was complicated. They did not know Tyreese, but he had put himself on the line to help them. Knowing this Carol and Braddock did not feel right taking the shot to kill the man holding Tyreese as it would likely result in Tyreese's death. The tense moment to see if they would fire as they just met Tyreese that night... Red called everyone off, put down his gun and hoped he would have a better chance later.
Red sat on a bench, hands on the table, and a glower on his face. He could hardly believe these people got in, it was so simple and Red remained still, chastising himself, his distraction; he was beyond angry with himself. It was not Daisy's fault, he was the one on watch and he had been trusted to protect the group. Instead he was in bed with Daisy. Daisy was still half naked, having had no time to throw her shirt back on. The only thing keeping herself decent was the bra she had reclaimed just before the car broke through the gates.
Destroyed the gates... Red wanted to punch the driver. They tore through the gates without even trying to stop; they charged throwing caution to the wind. Rick would be furious, Red feared.
He could not bring himself to kill Tyreese. Which is precisely what opening fire on their assailants would have done; immediately resulted in Tyreese's death. He was a man whose only crime was wanting to protect his people and looking to earn their trust. Red tried to find the will to sacrifice this stranger for the prison and ultimately, he failed. They lost the fight.
Merle scanned the room, looking for familiar faces. He only found one, a woman from the quarry who had survived. It was surprising to him, to see her of all people. "Well, well well. If it isn't the lil' mouse from camp." Merle sauntered up to her. Carol raising her head to see the look on his face. "You gotta be the last person I expected to see."
Carol did not answer him, but she saw Laura behind him and focused on her. "Laura..." She breathed. It was very clear that Laura stood with Merle and the others, the people attacking their prison.
Merle turned to look at Laura. She blinked at him and he turned back to Carol. "I've got a question for you. If you're good and tell me what I want to know, I'll see if I can't make this quick."
"You stay the fuck away from her." Red growled from his position just behind Merle. A dull, vaguely pissed off look from Merle as he found the man who threatened him. Merle drew back the metal hand and threw it across Red's jaw, knocking the man until he nearly fell onto the floor. This object the Governor had made for him could cause serious damage, only lucky the blade was not presently attached.
Merle leaned over the man and smirked, "I don't think you understand your position here, friend." Red's pulled himself back up, his glalre unapologetic. The tension grew between the two men until Merle leaned over to him. "I don't care who answers my very simple questions, but they are gonna be answered. Or-!" He turned to the group, his people, "-Or we're going to take our time, going person to person, to find out which one of you can't take a hit."
"You want to know about Daryl, right?" Carol spoke up, the name drop alarming Red.
Merle nodded, "That wasn't so difficult." He chuckled darkly, coming back to Carol. "Where is he?"
"With the others, they left." She answered honestly. Merle kept his eyes on hers, watching for any indication of a lie. He could just ask Laura after and he was sure no matter what, by the end of the night, he would know where his brother was. She had already told him that his brother had left, but he was still with this group.
"When?" Merle sat down across from her, his metal hand-blade clunking loudly on the table. An intentional movement meant to intimidate her and the others. Braddock sitting beside Carol resisted the sudden urge to grab her, shield her from this obviously demented man. But she seemed to know him a fact that did not go over his head.
"A few hours ago."
Good news though, they were not at risk of them popping up too soon. "They comin' back?"
Carol glanced to the men around them, all heavily armed, but less of them than the group Daryl went with. "Yes."
A wide grin broke on Merle's face, "Good to hear it. I'm glad we had this talk." He stood back up, "Throw 'em in the cells. Lock the doors and let's wait 'em out. Two birds, one stone."
Stepping to the side, Laura allowed the Woodbury men to gather the group. The threat of being shot or their friends being killed enough to convince them to listen. Carol gave Laura a look that made her uncomfortable. She did not understand why, but those sad eyes, pleaded with her... A strong clench in her heart actually bothered her and it only served to make her more conflicted.
Not everyone looked up to her, Braddock and Carl passed her without a second glance. Red, Maggie, and Daisy all gave her that long face, each one of them as if they were asking for her to help them. She knew this feeling, she could recall it when she looked at Merle the night before. This was guilt.
What for? Laura glowered back at them, her nose crinkling. A growl from her chest expressed her anger and frustrations. It got the message across, they left her alone. I have nothing to feel sorry for. These people interrupted my hunt, took me captive at gunpoint, attacked me, and threw me in a cell. I should be thrilled Merle came for me, they fought to get into this prison for me! Them being here, taking over the prison; that means I'm on the winning side!
She stood up straight, looking down at the people being lead into the cell block. Why do I feel like this? She almost immediately lost the puff in her chest, Why do I feel like I should do something and guilty because I'm not? Merle is my friend... my only friend, he's always been there for me. I will always be there for him. These people aren't more important than him.
One by one they were being locked in a cell. One door opened and they shoved Braddock, Hershel, and Carl inside and the door slammed shut. Loud and sharp, it made her flinch. Merle rescued me from these people... he came to help me.
Maggie and Daisy were shoved into the next cell, the door slammed shut and she flinched harder. The key locking the door behind them. He... cares about me. He only wants to help me.
Carol, Beth, and Red were pushed inside. The door rang out duller this time, Laura's eyes blinked. He wants me back with him.
Sasha and Ben. Laura didn't even register the sound of the door clanging shut or the keys locking them in. He's going to take me back...
Allen and Tyreese, she did not hear anything but a shrill ringing in her ears. She stared into nothingness and felt a vice like grip in her chest. He wants to take me back to Woodbury.
A hand slapped her back; it stung. She huffed and stumbled forward before looking to Merle beside her. "Good to have you back, girl. Even found my brother before I did. Hell of a job." He praised, but Laura was having trouble accepting it. "I say we sit tight, wait for the rest of the group get back. Ambush them, grab my brother, and wipe this prison clean."
Laura gestured to the cells, or rather the people now locked inside them, and back to Merle, then to the pistol in his waistband. He rolled his shoulders, "It's what we were sent to do; get rid of the problem." He seemed put off by her question. His eyes narrowed slightly, "You're not worried about these folk, are you? They ain't done you right, put you in that cell all locked up. Even smaller and brighter than the one in Woodbury."
She nodded and pointed to the cells, to herself, and shook her head dismissively. He smiled, "Come on, let's see what they got to eat. Gotta have something good." He left the cell block and the other men stayed to guard the people. Martinez joined Merle and Laura in the mess hall, watching Merle search through the stocks kept inside.
It was not much, the rest of the food still deeper in the prison. Without knowing that, he did not bother trying to find it. Laura took a seat, watched Merle as he gathered food, and waited. Listening to him put together whatever he wanted, Laura rested her head in the palm of her head and drifted off into thought.
There was a complicated set of emotions going on and she did not know where to begin deciphering this mess. It was no secret she knew at least some of these people before Woodbury. The question was who, why would she care, and what they did to her. She could not remember much, there were inklings of details.
A time where she felt her leg hurting, a crack and hanging upside down. Another blurry memory of sitting on top something, overlooking a sea of derelict vehicles in the dead of night. Someone was beside her, she smiled and talked to them. That was not the only happy memory she could think of; there were a few others. Such as a day were she was surrounded by people, they were talking about her but it was all good. She could not see their faces, but they were thanking her. It made her feel good.
Here, in the mess hall well into the night, she did not feel good even though she had been on the winning side and was given her freedom. Is it freedom...? Laura inwardly groaned. She hated trying to think about this, about what it all meant. In some fantasy world she imagined she could just sit here and watch Merle eat their food and not think about anything at all.
One of the men entered the mess hall, taking what food he could and smiling at Merle. "Gonna take a midnight snack. Probably gonna be a while before they show up. Just shout when we're ready to move." He took with him a protein bar, his rifle over his shoulder, and ate it on the way back to the cells.
Laura figured the guards would likely take shifts while they waited. Sleeping off however long the trip was to get here. It could not have taken more than a few hours unless Rick and his group never made it to Woodbury. She could not see them dying one the road there, this imprint she had of Rick was strong. He struck her as a man who could cause as much damage as Merle's hand-blade.
She remembered another person who she did not want to mess with; Shane. He was never hidden in a faded memory, she could look at his face in her memory with perfect clarity. She focused on these thoughts knowing that Rick, Daryl, and Glenn were there at least at one point. They were worried about her, shielded her from Shane as he barked at her viciously. Accusing her of eating the little girl.
The girl. Laura did not see her be locked up with the others, she had ran upstairs. There was something about this girl that made her so different and she now had the freedom to know what. She lifted her head from her hand, looking to the cell block and wondered where the girl was now.
Her sudden interest in the cells did not go unbeknownst to Merle. While chewing, he brushed his hands off and gave her a curious look. "What is it?" He uttered, still chewing. "Hear something?"
Laura looked at Merle, raised her hand and paused. Woodbury. She saw her father, the chair, and the scarred memories of experimentation. This girl was different, she was not sure how and did not understand what Carol meant. The implication was... not something Laura could comprehend yet. Merle wanted to take Laura back and Laura wanted to know this girl and what made her different.
In a rare moment of doubt, Laura did not tell Merle the truth. She pointed to herself, to the cells, and shut her eyes. He knew she did not sleep, but he did know she liked to rest. He nodded, "Alright, when they get back I'll come and grab ya." Laura stood up, popping her stiff knuckles, and left the table. Merle still chowing down on whatever he was eating. She was not even sure what it was- some kind of trail mix she figured.
Laura slipped by the bars, feeling this encouragement of freedom. It felt good to be the one strolling around the cell block now instead of just watching these people go by on whatever they deemed important. She saw on men sitting on an old, thin metal chair in front of the cells with a rifle in his lap. In a fleeting moment of fancy, Laura wanted to pass the bars and display how easily her people beat theirs before feeling incredibly guilty for ever thinking that.
There was this swell of pride knowing Merle had outsmarted them, though she was not entirely sure how, she did not much care. He came out on top and she was on his side; Merle's team. Yet Merle's 'team' is Woodbury, the one place Laura wanted to be free of forever. The place the Governor called home and burned her, allowed his men to rape her, and cut her open.
Laura paused in the cell block, clenching her fists. She could scarcely think of anything else. When she thought of one case of abuse, such as when they beat her inside the metal room trying to get information out of her... everything else flooded her.
When she closed her eyes Laura could see the hot iron presented to her, the radiating heat already feeling like burns spreading across her skin. She felt the chair under her and the guards beating her, asking again and again How many? She remembered being thrown to the floor and pulled to her knees, a man standing in front of her with a sick smile.
Flashes of trauma built up, the pressure in her body raged and she could barely contain it. Laura exhaled forcefully, looking up the stairs. Somewhere up here was the little girl, Sophia. Quietly, she climbed the staircase, her gauntlet ticking metal fingers on the railing as she climbed. Eyes on her, she glanced down and saw some of the people in the cells watching her.
She could piece together they were scared, likely for the girl as they noted she was missing. Laura reached the top, ignoring their terrified looks. When Laura disappeared to the second floor they deliberated. Laura could hear them talking rather clearly, though they tried to conceal this by whispering. It was not the living she wanted to listen to.
Numerous additional cells made up the top floor, she knew the girl was in one. Laura waited and listened carefully, digging through the people whispering downstairs, Merle's messy eating, and the other man moving the bed sheets around trying to sleep. The sounds were soft, almost indistinguishable from the rustle in the prison. But they were there.
Laura closed her eyes and focused. A slight movement so terribly gentle to her left. She took a step towards the sound, her eyes open and peering into the cells she passed. One clear and she heard the girl sniff. Laura kept her footsteps careful, trying to not make too much noise. The girl was nearby, but Laura walked slowly just to be sure not to alarm her.
The next cell was clear, she ignored it and continued. Movement, so soft and quiet. She did not move too much, but Laura could hear the girl sniffling. She was crying, scared of what was going to happen. The sounds of gunfire, the people entering, the yelling - it got to her.
Laura stopped at the door to one cell, seeing the shoes of the girl underneath the bunk bed. Her eyes rounded the room. On the floor was a few papers with colorful drawings of a child, small clothes, and a toy on the bed. In her fear the girl hid in her own room, the place she was most comfortable. She was hunting this child, though it sounded more threatening than it was.
Trying not to scare the girl, Laura entered the cell and slowly knelt down. She picked the toy off the bed, an old knitted doll, and brushed it off. It was well loved and showed a lot of use. Laura lowered the doll to the floor and reached to place it under the bed, careful to keep her claws from damaging the toy. There was a few seconds of silence, the girl terrified, before a small pale hand took the doll from her metal claws.
Laura withdrew her hand and let the girl be. She was far too terror stricken to think of anything else. Instead, Laura left the cell and returned to the staircase. She sat on the stairs parallel to the wall the cells were in. Her claws clicking on the metal floor as she got herself comfortable.
Laura had been too deep in thought, her affirmations and deep seeded struggles. She fought to reconcile and understand why she sat here on these stairs and felt like she was spitting in the face of every decent thing.
Outside the walls of Woodbury, sent to hunt and kill anything that threatened their home. The Governor had given her kill orders on people before and she did what she was told. With a precise and disturbing viciousness, Laura could hunt the living with terrifying efficiency. She did not need conventional tracking skills to smell her prey and she did not need to predict their movements to catch up to them.
She was faster than the living and more dangerous than the dead. If there was anything in her life that remained true through all her internal and external struggles it was the creature she became. At one time she was no different than the living in this prison or the dead outside it. Now she was something else entirely and they nailed restraints into her body fearing that.
Her heel tapped the metal stair, restless. The people whispered, held each other, and the Woodbury group sat satisfied with their labors. Here they were, having won by preying on their attachments. They weren't even attached, the group that lived in this prison would not have cried for Tyreese's death, or the addition losses of Sasha, Allen, or Ben.
They were a group of strangers, people who did not matter to the survivors in this prison. However, when Tyreese was held at gunpoint they still stood down. Protecting the man as if they had known him before that night.
Their feelings on this incident were beyond Laura. She had too much to do, too much to think through. How they wanted this to go was of no importance to her.
She held her head in her hands, a crashing wave of conflicting thoughts and emotions, giving Laura nothing but more questions and doubts. Merle is my friend, but he wants to go back to Woodbury. She shook her head, No, all he wants is his brother. Maybe he'll leave Woodbury when he finds him. Maybe I'll go with him and get away-
Laura winced, thinking back to her attempts to escape and the punishments for them. How can I escape Woodbury? They always catch up to me- I'm more capable than any of them and they still always get me in the end. Doubt sprang to her mind, Because there are more of them, they have the benefit of supplies and numbers. These people never had a chance.
Their faces were so familiar. Every time she tried to imagine them she saw Woodbury, the Governor's face, and the guards she came to recognize. Memory before Woodbury was a mess of forgotten names, vague places, and disorganized snippets of a full memory. It was arduous, she felt like her head was spinning constantly. The more she tried the worse it got until she felt unsteady on her feet.
There are many of them, all armed and protective of each other. If they couldn't beat a single attack from Woodbury, how could I even think about trying? I'd get no where. Laura strained herself. The pain of knowing she was free from the cell, but trapped by a greater evil still... she felt like nothing in the world could go right. No matter what she did she would end up in the same place.
Either dead or held by some other demented psychopath with a penchant for ultra violence. Laura looked between the railing, the cells of people panicking and scared. She saw the woman, Carol, sitting on the bunk with another girl she did not know, and Red looking out the bars protectively. The other locked cells were the same; people waiting to either die or worse.
Laura looked back on the time she was kept in that room. After so much pain all she could manage to do is hide against a wall. She had not the energy to cry, to beg, and most certainly lost the will to fight. When they put her in the cage the torture evolved into tests she could see in vivid detail.
Her eyes rested on the scar across her side. A wound that had been stitched now scarred over, but marked the loss of an organ. The pain she felt when the scalpel cut into her side, how it felt to have someone reach inside of her not just to test or study this time, but to remove a part of her. It was excruciating, but she felt confident to say the sight of seeing her organ taken from her body scarred her worse than the pain did.
She felt like she would be sick just thinking about it. The aftermath of that event was a rushed stitch job and putting her back in her cage to suffer alone. Her black blood leaving streaks on her cell floor.
Though she had survived this event and felt no difference after the pain faded, she never forgot the sight. She had seen more of her internals than she ever wanted to, more than anyone could say for themselves. Aware and feeling the doctor did not care. She was there to be studied and she had no say in how that happened. More than once her mind faded away from the experiments, only to return to him lifting an organ, moving her insides, and leaving her open to the air.
They went to attack Woodbury... Her thoughts floated from the traumatic time to the others of their group. They might've already carried out their plan... what if that means-?
Laura blinked, her eyes widening. He'll blame me. The woman who got away, she told them where Woodbury is. Her capture only happened because Laura did not deliver and now another group attacked. She swallowed hard, that fear coming to mix with the rage inside of her. Maybe they killed him. Maybe he's not even there anymore... Maybe Woodbury isn't there anymore.
The man in the chair stood up, her eyes snapped to him. What will happen if they come back and we attack them? A sharp pain stung her heart, But I don't want to hurt them. I feel guilty enough already, but Rick, Daryl, and Glenn... I know them. They were good to me once, are they different now? She countered that they did lock her in a cage and leave her there.
She had no idea what to think. Merle was her friend for certain and she knew that, regardless of anyone else, he looked out for her. They both shared a close connection that surpassed words, though he did often play the brute to get what he wanted. She trusted him implicitly.
Observing her situation now, she wondered if Merle was truly the best person for her right now. He had been so good to her back at Woodbury... now he wanted to bring her back to the Governor, at the Governor's demand. This drastically changed their dynamics, the understanding they built together. She was no longer just a companion of his that the Governor punished him for showing compassion to...
Laura hit a fork in her road. Merle was her friend or is her friend? They had not spoken after the other night, had Merle taken it to heart?... Had he turned on her?
A soreness rose from the burn on her side. If I go back... He said he would- Laura hissed quietly, a phantom pain shooting through her.
The guard switched with another man, a larger man that Laura remembered. The scar on his hand, she saw where it was and could recall what he did to her. She saw him standing above her, holding her shirt in his hand while he exposed himself to her. He came to her earlier, before the muzzle and gauntlets. He was vicious to her, some of the rapists preferring a quick fuck before leaving her. He enjoyed the rougher things in life, he liked to hear her scream for him.
A distasteful sneer on her face. Just being around him made her sick, to think he was part of a group that came to her rescue. There was nothing she wanted more than to light a match and set the people of Woodbury on fire; see how they handled being burned.
He saw her on the stairs, a wicked smile still plastered on his face. She did not care for his taunts, his provocation. If he wanted a reaction out of her anymore he would have to try much harder than he did before. Perhaps that was the reason he stopped seeking her out, because he got off on her cries to stop and she no longer begged her rapists. She could take it, suffer through it, if only to avoid the hot iron press against her skin again
Her arms wrapped around her knees and brought them to her chest. Uncertainly, hatred, and pain blooming through her. Unsure of where to go from here and how to survive back in Woodbury.
She sat still, a quiet dread settling in her stomach. Woodbury would be the end of her, the Governor would not stop until she was either dead from the experiments or ended her usefulness to Woodbury and their tests. One way or another she knew the only thing awaiting her back behind those walls was more of the last few months.
Two Hours later...
"You think they're really coming back?" Martinez had grown rather impatient. They had been at this prison for sometime now and there wasn't a sound. No car, no people; they all just sat around waiting for Merle's brother.
Over this course of time the group had been going back and forth on guard duty. Only one man was given this task and most of the time they fell asleep doing it. Laura watched them at first, spying on the people in the cells, before she grew bored of that and rejoined Merle in the mess hall. She did not reveal Sophia hiding upstairs, she let the girl hide.
When she leaned against the bars by the mess hall she earned Merle's attention. Martinez leaned up and turned his torso to see her in the doorway. He found himself unable to meet Laura's dark and heavy gaze so he faced Merle instead. The action not going unnoticed by Merle, he placed his metal arm on the table and sat up. "They said he would be. Our girl-" He gestured to Laura by tilting his head up, "-says they went to find Woodbury."
Martinez frowned, "Shouldn't we go back then? Protect Woodbury?"
Merle scoffed, "It took us this long just to get here. By now they'll have made it to Woodbury and left." He dismissed Martinez, "We have their prison. We're gonna stay and use that against them."
"How do we know they're not dead already? I mean, back home everyone on the wall is armed. Wouldn't be an easy fight." He picked up a small salted pretzel from the ziplock bag, crunching it while he watched Merle rotate his jaw. He was a talkative man when it came to boasting and yelling.
Listening to Martinez suggest that they could have died in Woodbury, Merle gave him an amused look. "Really? You think the best of what this group got had their asses handed to them by the worst of what we got? Anyone worth their salt is in here. These people took an overrun prison; you saw it months ago. It was crawlin' with biters."
His confidence was infectious and his reasoning sound. The people they left on the walls at Woodbury were less experienced and most of them far below Merle and Martinez's level. So he nodded with a slight smile, "They should be back soon then, right? Maybe another hour or two." He rubbed his face, tired. "We should probably do something with those people. Can't have them causing problems."
"What problems they gonna cause from inside the cells." Merle stated flatly, "They're in there and we're out here. We have guns, they don't. They're harmless. Besides, figuring we could use them as hostages if things go south."
Martinez did not argue the point, letting it drop with Merle's assertion of their plans.
Laura remained in place, her eyes never leaving the two. Merle glanced up to see her frequently, wondering what she was doing. He knew they had won and when Daryl returned he'd be able to leave this prison with him and Laura. Wholly unaware of the relationship carried between the two. All he wanted was his people, his brother and this girl he felt guilty about.
Her usual demeanor had changed, she was never so expressive. She narrowed her eyes at Merle, looking down and back to the cells. This was not communication, this was her thinking. Often stoic and unreadable, her fluctuating expression began to interest him. When together she only ever made pointed movements to tell him something, never because she was thinking or feeling something else.
Merle rose from his seat, his metal hand scratching the table. "Keep an eye on them, would'ya? I'm gonna see what our girl knows about the group." Martinez did not particularly like the idea of Merle giving him an order. Martinez was above Merle, second only to the Governor. Seeing Merle leave without thinking about his position in the group, Martinez figured it was better Merle; talking to that girl was like talking to the concrete walls of the prison. She would stare, still as ever, and he wouldn't get anything out of her.
Though he did remember what the Governor told him about Merle and Laura... Martinez shrugged, he did not need to report on two people being friends. The girl was more torn up than anyone he'd seen. The Governor called her a biter, but he didn't believe that. Most of the men didn't believe that. So when Merle said he was going to talk to her and find out what else she might know, he did not care to pursue the matter.
He can just as easily say Merle and Laura stayed away from each other the entire time; Philip wouldn't know any better.
So Martinez just raised his hand to let Merle know he heard him and was fine with it. Merle's boots echoed in the wide room. He approached her, placed a firm hand across her back to her far shoulder, and pulled her along with him. Jarred by the forceful movement, Laura's feet caught up with Merle as he lead her around the tables and up the stairs to the exit door. He pushed the handle and shoved the door open, pulling her out roughly behind him.
Merle took her outside, beyond the security gate. In the darkness she could see him and most of what he could see of her was the shine on her gauntlets, the metal pins on the muzzle, and those eyes he recalled finding so creepy. Just downright wrong.
"Girl," He looked to the door above and back to her. His jaw straight and firm, his eyes intent on hers. "The hell is goin' on with you?"
Laura shook her head and shrugged, wondering what he wanted. Her attempt at innocent only annoyed him. Merle pointed at her, "Ain't never been a time I seen you all over the place. You ain't shown a single thing from the moment we started workin' together. Now, all of a sudden, you're in there twitchin' like you waiting on something. What're ya doing, girl?"
His hand on her upper arm, his missing metal hand against her other. He pulled her very close to him, to emphasize his urgency on why she was being different. Laura panicked at being handled roughly, bending down between his hands and pulling away from him. She stood with her right side facing him and her arms crossed over her stomach.
Merle thought back to the other night when she pushed back. He frowned tightly, "Look girl, I didn't know that's what he'd do." Merle's voice raised a pitch higher, definitely unlike him. He dropped his arms to his sides, "I shoulda' kept my nose out of it and-" Merle hated talking about this. He hated what the Governor did; he hated a lot. His hand ran down the back of his head, "-and dammit, girl, I- I'm sorry, alright? If I knew I wouldn't've done nothin'."
Laura lowered her head, she did not want to think about it. That grasping pain in her chest came back, her head told her it hurt to hear him apologize for something she was actually thankful for.
"Shit, you know I don't mean it like that." He put his hand on his hip, looking out over the field now slowing being overrun with walkers. "I didn't like what he was doing. I reacted before I thought. I saw him and... and that was that. It was over before I knew it started."
She sighed and turned back to him, tilting her head. Her hand wrapped into a fist so the sharp claws would not touch him. She had been careful that night, though she did leave a scratch on him, it was minor. The knuckle of her gauntlet tapping his arm, he drew a deep breath and released it.
Laura's other hand hovering over the burn as she had always done. Still protecting it and he saw that. He did not comment on what he knew must be painful, still just barely a day after it happened.
Trying to express herself was hard. This was far more complex that her usual communication with him. Laura pointed to his chest, back to herself, and used two hands to clasp together. She pulled her brows up, trying to show this hurt she felt. It did not come close to explaining how terrible she felt about what happened in Woodbury, but she did her best.
"We good?" He attempted to clarify and she nodded. Merle face stitched into a struggle between his own emotions which he had spent his entire life fighting against and what had built up over their time together in Woodbury. He couldn't deny it, he cared for her. In a strange fucked up way, the two were good friends and after a long period of denial and resistance, he came to accept this. "Governor ain't too happy with us."
She tilted her head and huffed, he chose to ignore the sarcastic display.
"What do you want me to do about it, huh?" He responded to her indignantly. Laura turned to the field beyond the courtyard and pointed. Merle watched her and followed her hand to the trees beyond. "You want to leave?"
Laura's hand came up to her upper arm, to her burn on her abdomen, before touching the muzzle on her face gently so she did not disturb the nails in her skin. Her knuckles touched his arm, to his missing hand, and back to her.
"You want us to leave." Merle took a moment, seeing the walkers in the field and the damage they had done to the prison gates. He sighed, "I need my brother. I ain't goin' anywhere without him. Been looking for him since Atlanta."
She gestured to cell block D where the group was being held and between the two of them. Laura's eyes flickered to the side, tilting her hand side to side. Merle laughed, "They had you in a cell, locked up; no better than Woodbury. Who gave you that idea?"
Laura threw her arms to the side, pointing to the cut on her arm, the stab wound in her stomach, the fresh burn on her stomach again, the scarred over burn on her collar, and the multitudes of scars scattered all over her. The muzzle, the gauntlets; Laura took a step towards cell block C and traveled the length to D, in the middle she pointed to the wound on her shoulder. She threw her hand at cell block D, pointed to herself, placed her hand over her chest, and slumped over. A few mewling growls from her mouth while she emphasized herself.
Frustrated, Merle ran his fingers across his nose. "The hell you got to feel guilty for?"
A huffed groan from Laura as she pointed to his missing hand and wrapped her wrist in her other hand then pointed outside the prison fences. She gestured with her knuckle to Merle and to the blood on her arm. She held her fists up and began to count the number of members in the prison group before closing her fists again and bringing her fists to her chest.
Merle looked down to the concrete before overlooking his friend. She was mangled, a mess of the woman she was when he found her at the farmhouse. The damage left their marks on her, the suffering she endured. As if following his train of though she pulled the neck of her shirt down, her other hand trailing the faded thin scars of stitched up experiments.
He wanted to curse this place, their situation, and just get in a car and leave. The Governor remained a vindictive man since the day they met, he never let anything go. Merle exhaled forcefully, crossed his arms, and reluctantly nodded. "So you just want me to follow you on a hunch? We broke into this shithole for you and your talking crazy."
She game him a lame look and approached him, her hands in fists with her thumbs tucked inside. She did not want to hurt him accidentally. Her arms came around him carefully and her head rested on his arm. He was not a touchy-feely man, but he had carried regret and guilt with him long enough. He found that apparently Laura had enough of it as well
His fears that Woodbury was stronger threatened her, yet his loyalty to the people he actually cared about... Merle uncrossed his arms and held one across her shoulders, the other partially down her back. "Alright, alright."
Merle knew if Daryl was still with this group he would certainly feel threatened. Last time Merle saw him he was an outcast of the group with Merle. "Girl, you're fuckin' crazy." His voice broke into a low chuckle, "You ain't got fucked enough to see this is only gonna piss off Philip more? Ain't ya had enough of finding out what happens when you get on his bad side?" His doubts reared their heads.
Laura pulled away from him, giving him a tired look, restating her conflicting feelings of guilt. Laura pointed out, back to the prison, to herself, over her burn, and over her chest. Her eyes narrowed as if struggling with something and she dropped her hands.
"Feeling sorry for these assholes ain't going to get me on their side." Merle bit the inside of his cheek, an uncharacteristically disturbed and upset expression on his features. "Look I don't want the Governor to roll through here and kill us all. Woodbury's got more people, more guns, what are we going to do against them, huh? Throw your feelings at them, write 'em a song about how you feel for these people?"
Laura hesitantly stepped away from Merle and knocked her knuckle against her head and shrugged. She pointed to his head and to herself.
Some time ago he remembered asking her about his brother, back when they were still getting used to the other around. Right as they began to grow closer; he knew what she wanted. "You mean about Officer Friendly, my brother, and those others from back in Atlanta?" She nodded. Confirming Merle's suspicions, he took a minute to think.
She was unsure about her position, expressing her fear and concerns over what will happen to her, Merle, and the others. Woodbury had done her no good, only turning into a hellhole of deprivation and lawlessness to her. Merle got to be a part of the people in Woodbury, to keep face with the everyday folks. But in the back rooms they were torturing this girl, someone he had a bond with after it all.
He regretted his part, he hated Woodbury, and he hated the Governor. The only thing keeping him there was his search for his brother, the need for supplies to support that search, and the Governor's threats. If Merle acted against him or Woodbury in anyway there would be hell to pay.
But, he knew, Laura had already been in that hell. She paid a price for being at the wrong place at the wrong time. A fact he never much cared about until he began to spend time with her.
Their runs beyond the wall, how vehemently she protected him. Though the cost of failure to protect him was more of this torture she had endured after the nights of patching her up he realized she grew to rely on him. He had not been shielding her as much as she did for him. At first he hated it, yelled and cursed her away, but she was always watching. The more injuries he helped her with, the more survivors he fought off of her; the more she came to want him around.
It took a long time, a lot of fighting, and a growing fondness for her company that he still had difficulty admitting to himself. Though he could admit it to her. For those reluctant acts of kindness like patching her up that first day, or the more emotionally driven events such as beating a rapist off of her; she valued him above all else.
Merle looked to the woman, battered and in pain. He thought of the day when he came to retrieve her for a run... he was turned away by a guard inside, but not before he saw her on the table. With restraints holding her down it was still clear she was in agony. Her body tense and a howl muffled by the bit of the muzzle and the wraps they had around her face.
Then the other night he held her as she cried. He was completely ignorant on how to comfort a crying woman, but he got himself into this mess. And the punishment for that action was worse than he even wanted to try and understand.
So he placed his arm around her shoulders. "I remember you back in Atlanta." Her brows knitted together as she stared at the ground. "You just showed up the day I lost my hand. Up on that roof in Atlanta, surrounded by biters. I put you on the ground, knocked you clean on your ass. Walked around with a black bruise on your face, figured I nearly broke your face. You stuttered like a bastard."
Her eyes trailed up to his face, she was confused. He had not told her that before. She pointed between them.
"Yeah, we knew each other for a few hours at most." Merle raised his missing hand, "Then that cop, Rick, handcuffed me to the roof. Cut my hand off to escape and been lookin' for my brother ever since. My luck we found you, but you didn't know shit by the time I got to ya."
She pointed to him, her other hand to herself, and joined the hands together. She was more conflicted than she wanted to admit, but she knew there was a chance here for something else. Something more than just going back to Woodbury to suffer more.
Merle let out a deep groan, "Fine, girl. You owe me." He released her shoulders and reached into his waistband, removing the pistol there. "But this only happens if Daryl's with them. Otherwise, I ain't stickin' around with Rick and the gang."
Laura's arm held his arm, turning him to face her. She bowed her head slowly, fist over her heart.
"Knock it off, girl." He huffed, "You're gonna' ruin my image."
adelphe24:
Merle's a complicated sort. I'm unsure when I write him, since he is portrayed very aggressively in the show but when push comes to shove, he would do anything for his family. In this case, we're going to see Merle changing his tune due to a deep guilt he feels for being a part of Laura's suffering in Woodbury.
Oh yeah, no, it's not gonna go over too well. xD
Well I don't know the idea but I'm excited! I wonder what you've got cookin'! :D
I'm actually beginning to show some compassion! An amazing feat for me, the author who LOVES to torture Laura. So be happy! Because it won't be forever. :)
I'm glad you've enjoyed it. I'm not sure how well this chapter and the last chapter came out. I wanted to do more focusing on Laura last chapter, but it wasn't the right time. This chapter is entirely Laura with like 5% Merle. So we'll see next chapter how everyone does meeting up. I hope you like this chapter! I wasn't feeling the best about it. Rewrote it like 3 times.
Gemini's Revenge:
I'm excited to get the Woodbury x Prison War moving. It has not yet reached its peak, but I'm working on it. Next chapter will begin that peak and we'll see how that goes over. The story will begin to meld back with the canon of the show. So we'll be able to rejoin familiar scenes. :)
Yeah, I've wanted that relationship to build in the background a bit. I wanted it to be known Daisy wanted this, she fostered these affections for him. Red just reciprocated. He states a lot about her appearance, but he considers Daisy an extremely close friend. Like he would seek her out for her opinions before anyone else. Not because he did not respect them, but Daisy's comprehension and forward thinking challenges his own. He thoroughly believes she could talk her way into anything. I'm attempting to write that, but it's difficult to write someone so charismatic and persuasive without seeming disingenuous.
Hopefull that will come across the more I am able to detail Daisy and Red's relationship. :)
Maggie certainly got on eyeful. ;)
I hope you enjoy this chapter!