We reach the CDC with nightfall not far off. Whatever we do now, it'll have to be quick; it's not smart to be out after dark. Surrounding the building is a large number of corpses with swarms of flies. Stepping out of the RV the smell hits me first. I gag. The bodies are all disfigured and it's hard to tell which were the walkers, and which were the victims. It's too quiet, too eerie. Looking around fills me with terror. How can we be sure that some of them won't get up and attack?
It's hard to keep the paranoia away. Flashes of the night before mingle with what we see. My imagination runs wild and there's nothing but bodies ready to move. It doesn't help that the trucks and tanks could be hiding walkers. The blockades are another thing. They look to be intact; so what happened to those behind it? Out of now where, D's hand is before me a crowbar clutched tightly in it. Flinching back, barely holding in a scream as my heart races, it takes a moment to calm my nerves.
She mouths an apology as her nose wrinkles in disgust. "This is horrible."
"There's got to be Walkers around, no way this place is completely deserted." I murmur taking the weapon.
Out of the corner of my eye a walker staggers our way. Before panic can set in, an arrow takes it down. We stand around, wondering what to do. Shane suggests leaving, but Rick marches towards the doors. Taking a deep breath and following, there's too much weight on my foot; it really hurts. The others slowly trail after, keeping close together.
Rick pounds on the metal doors; shouting for someone to open up. The noise brings the dead, and it's amazing how they appear from nowhere. There's argument from Shane, Lori's beseeching Rick to pull back, and Daryl's snarling at someone to make a decision. Glancing around, feeling a dazed surrealism sink in, it's like I'm a spectator to this scene.
D's instantly by my side, she has one hand clutched to mine, and the other gripping her crowbar. Everyone's beginning to pull back, Shane's got Rick's shoulder and is tugging him away. We stand there; fear and panic settling in. Should we stay, we know the doors will eventually open, or do we leave with the others?
Daryl's shooting a couple of the dead who have gotten too close, Shane's still yelling at Rick and the Sheriff hasn't stopped bellowing. Daryl stalks towards us, grabbing D's wrist and pulling her away, but she still has my hand. I stumble and let go, my foot twisting with the fall. My cry is instantaneous as is the pain shooting up my leg. Tears prick my eyes and it takes effort to hold in the scream threatening to explode.
Daryl's got a good grasp on D and keeps her from falling. I'm not down for long; Rick's there hoisting me up, and taking most of my weight. As he turns away the doors open. There's a moment of silence, only broken by the dead and then everyone's rushing in.
It's amazing how time can pass; it seems that mere seconds later everyone's settling down for the night. The fear from standing outside, hours before is just another memory. After dinner, and spying on the two Daryl's, Rick brings me back to the room he's sharing with Carl to care for my ankle. He kneels in front of me, rewrapping my injured foot with a makeshift splint. He's taken off the beige shirt and is in a tight, white sleeveless under top. I can't tear my eyes away from him; the way the shirt tightly follows the contours of his muscles. Rick doesn't have a large bulky physique; he's lithe and thin. The shower starts and Carl will no doubt be awhile. The kid was just as desperate for a hot shower as everyone else. Rick let me go first, so that I was clean and fresh for when he fixed my foot.
It seems like just seconds ago he was practically carrying me into the foyer of the CDC. Dr. Jenner, a blonde man in his 40's, was there to greet us at the entrance. A scientist with a semi-automatic weapon is a little startling, but not the hardest thing to see. The dazed and detached sensations begin to recede, though the small details of the introductions are still hard to recall.
We were subjected to a blood test, D and Rick seemed to hover and there was a mention of a lock down. It's not until we're all in the cafeteria room that the haze is shaken. Hunger was the last thing on my mind, but it wouldn't do me well to pass it up. I nibble at the food in front of me, sipping at my water. There's allsorts of alcohol around, though it wouldn't do me any good. There's laughter and jokes, even Carl isn't immune to a bit of teasing.
"Come on Lori, let the boy have a bit of wine." Rick chuckles good-naturally.
She smiles in amusement as she hands Carl her wine glass. I smirk at the expression he pulls. His face scrunches up and he sticks his tongue out. It's not his fault, wine is not all that. He hands the glass right back to his mother.
Lori chuckles, "That's my boy."
It didn't escape my notice how close Daryl and D are. It's with great interest to see Daryl offer her the bottle of scotch he's drinking. D doesn't drink. She's not a fan of alcohol, but since it was Daryl who offered it I guess she doesn't mind it so much. As she drank though, her face flushes and she begins giggling like a mad woman. Daryl smirks at her and I spot the fond, almost tender expression hiding behind the bottle.
Jenner made everyone's week when he told us about the hot water. Of course, we were told not to use it all, but most will 'forget' when it comes to their own shower. Lori had definitely made her choice, she left with Shane, and the look on Rick's face was heartbreaking. He didn't look resentful or even angry, just sad and lonely. Carl stayed with him, but there's only so much a son can do.
Amy and Andrea have their own room, shared with Dale. T-Dog was able to nab one with Jacqui; I know they're friends, but sometimes it seems there's more. Carol and Sophia slipped into another one. No doubt this night will be spent mourning over Ed and everything they've lost. He may not deserve it but he was a huge part of their lives.
Glenn has his own room; he won't be up to appreciating it though. The boy drank too much. D and I get to share one, and as I limp towards it, what do my eyes see? My best friend with her future lover. They may not say a lot, but the looks, the time they spend together, it has to mean something. She's leaning against the wall and he towers over her. His hands are either side of her head, the bottle of scotch clutched in one. The free hand moves from the wall to her face and gently brushes aside a stray piece of hair. The two are staring intently, like they're gazing at the most exquisite form of art. The same hand that tucked the hair away slides down her cheek to her neck and downward.
This leaves me with a decision. Does this continue with no interruption, and she regrets it, or do I step in? No matter her feelings for the man, it would be a mistake. A drunken one night with a man who will pull away is not something she deserves. She would be devastated. In the end it isn't my decision. Daryl bends his head and is inches away from her mouth. His hand stops on her waist and he holds himself. If not for my injury, I'd be on the tips of my toes. He drops his head to lean against hers and whispers in her ear.
"What are you doing?" Rick's voice startles me.
Twisting around and hissing in pain, the pressure on the ankle is too much. Rick and Carl are standing behind me, the former looking amused. Quickly turning my head, the Daryl's haven't been bothered, my hand reaches out to grab Rick's arm to drag him away. "Shh, you'll disturb them." My voice is low as I lead them away.
"Lauren?" Rick's voice pulls me from my thoughts and I blink at him.
I'm back in Rick and Carl's room, since theirs was closer. My ankles been throbbing and the splint had come loose. Rick offered to re-splint it after my shower. Carl had been the one to race to my room and grab my bag, so that I could have clean-ish clothes to change into after the wash.
"Hmm?" I gaze down at him, my eyes flicking to his mouth subconsciously.
He says nothing and we stare. My hearts in my throat and it's loud. Hopefully he can't hear it. He shifts closer, still kneeling, and I can feel his warm breath on my lips. My eyes flutter close and I lean in.
"Dad?" Carl interrupts.
Instantly jerking back and looking away, a flush blooms over my face. This is unbelievable. It can't be happening. There might have been a trace of alcohol on him, but not enough to imply he was drunk. This has to be his loneliness catching up with him. I refuse to be the mistake, the rebound.
"Yeah Carl?" Rick answers, sounding a little further away.
"I forgot my clothes." I can hear the embarrassed laugh in his voice.
"I got you, son."
Rick stands, and I should be thankful for the interruption, but it's a little disappointing. "I should get to my own room." My voice is soft.
"I'll walk you."
"Uh, no, no." I clear my throat. "I'll be fine, it's not too far away." Refusing to look at him seems the best idea.
I just reach the door when Rick's calloused hand clasps my arm. "Lauren."
Finally looking at him, my palms start to sweat and my stomach feels as though millions of butterflies are flapping around. The blood rushes through my ears. Rick is looking at me with such intensity that I have to stop myself from falling into his arms. There's guilt and hurt, and loneliness.
"I…" Nothing comes to mind; I don't know what to say.
"Let me walk you back."
Nodding with a bit of relief, he helps me down the hall. I probably won't be able to get much sleep tonight. Nightmares of the massacre already intrude on my slumber; now not knowing what his lips feel like will be added. It's an odd thing to be included in a nightmare. When we get to my door we stop and gaze at each other. Eventually opening it and stepping over the threshold, we've come to the end of the day.
"Thank you." My tone is gentle. He nods and steps away, but there is no way he can leave on this note. "Rick."
He turns, but before he can say anything I've thrown my arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. His arms snake around me as he returns the embrace. We don't say anything, but stand there, entangled in each other's arms. He kisses my head and I pull away with a shy smile.
"Goodnight." He smiles, that kind, warm expression that causes havoc with my emotions.
"Night, Rick." My reply is soft, wistful.
Part of me is wishing that we kissed, be damned the consequences and it's hard to watch him walk away; but it has to happen. D's already in bed asleep, she left a single light on for me, and my smile is tender as I limp over to my mattress and snuggle in tight. Switching off the light and falling asleep, the moment we nearly kissed replays in my mind.
The next morning comes, though there wasn't much sleep. It started out great, dreamt of what could have happened with Rick, but then it merged with the walker attack. There was blood and gore. All my loved ones were getting eaten. Before I woke, my mother and D started to attack me, their eyes so lifeless and hollow.
It's a relief when knocks sound on the door. My ankle throbs and exhaustion plagues me. Groggily reaching for my glasses, and shoving them on my face, the door opens. Carl and Sophia shuffle into the room, accidently banging the door, causing a very hung over D to wake. The two kids stand beside my mattress, and I lift the sheet, shifting to the far side. The two immediately crawl in. Snuggling with them is calming.
"I am never drinking again." D whimpers.
"Not even if Daryl offers you any?" I smile and caress Carl's hair.
"…well…I mean…maybe?" D mutters, a pout in her voice.
"D doesn't look good." Carl comments as he stares at the pale and sickly looking girl.
"That's what happens when you drink."
"Are you two going to get up soon?" Sophia asks softly.
"We will, why don't you two head back to your parents?"
Carl sighs, "Do we have to? They're kind of boring."
Shrugging and waiting for them to crawl back out, my attention is on finding clean clothes, then limping to the bathroom. "Suite yourselves, but D's not going to be much for conversation and I am going to have a shower."
Breakfast comes and goes, Daryl's taken to avoiding D; for what ever messed up reason he's concocted. My appetite hasn't returned, though best not to let anyone know and my foot is really sore. The swelling hasn't gone down, nor have the bruises faded. This is another thing to keep secret. Not much can be done about it. Rick catches my gaze and smiles, a tenderness in his expression, and I'm reminded of the almost kiss. Blushing and looking away, my thoughts are back on what could have been.
We don't get to finish the meal as Dale questions what's happening. We're all made to follow Jenner. He plays footage of a test subject, who was infected, on the big computer screen. I sit next to Carol, D on my other side. We're vaguely aware of what's going to happen, and lean into each other, quietly chatting. Mostly her ranting about how Daryl's pretty much avoiding her. He barely responds to her and no longer talks. D's gutted, she's absolutely devastated that he won't spend even a moment in her company.
I have half a mind to go over to beat some sense into him, but D assures me that this is just Daryl being Daryl. If she keeps trying she'll get through to him. I want to help her, but it's not something that others can interfere with. I'll stick to her side, letting her rant and rave all she wants. Our attention returns to the situation. Dale points out the countdown.
The reason and ensuing chaos is quite shocking. The moment Jenner says he won't let us leave, that he's condemning us to die; all hell breaks loose. Or, at least that's what it feels like. Daryl starts attacking the metal door with an axe, Lori and Carol are holding their kids, crying, and Andrea is clutching a trembling, sobbing Amy. Shane's threatening Jenner with his gun and T-Dog's standing, staring in a sickened stupor at the Doctor. Glenn's sitting in a chair muttering, 'Oh God!' over and over, his head in his hands. Jacqui seems to be the only one who's not upset and horrified. Even D is reacting; looking around with a slight dazed look in her eyes.
What happens if Rick can't convince Jenner to let us leave?
My breathing hitches and tears blur my vision, I take my glasses off and wipe at my eyes. But no amount of rubbing steams the build up. Deep down I know Rick will get us out. He would never let those he loves, those he feels responsible for, die. Not like this. But Jenner isn't letting up; he's not allowing us to leave. D turns her sad, teary eyes towards Daryl and I swear a bit of hope die.
Fury, unlike anything I've ever felt before, runs through me. How dare this man not let us choose our own fate! Who the HELL does he think he is? God? Jamming my glasses back on and marching over, there's nothing but revulsion for this so called Dr. Rick's pleading, holding Shane back, but still the look on Jenner's face is stubborn determination.
"Hey, Jenner!"
"Yes?" His voice is unwavering, but there's a wariness in his eyes.
"Are you God?" I ask with a sneer.
There's a pause. "No."
"Then open those goddamn doors, you have no right to choose what we do with our lives!".
He stares at me, and clears his throat, sounding a little nervous. "There is nothing…"
"You don't get to make that call." My interruption is quick. "Open those doors, or by god I will make you."
His eyes widen and he nods, reaching up to hit the button that releases us. Everyone, minus Jacqui, runs for the doors. We have only a few minutes to get our things and then make for the top entrance. Out of the corner of my eye D stands and turns to face me, waiting for me to catch up, but then Daryl's suddenly there; dragging her away. Clearly she was taking too long. It warms my heart that though he's been distant, he still cares.
Turning back to Rick, Jenner pulls him close and whispers, "It's in the air," he sounds defeated, "we're all infected."
That's common knowledge back home, but to actually hear it, is overwhelming. A look of utter despair crosses Rick's face. I steel my own nerves and grab the man's hand, pulling him away. It seems to bring him back, for he grips my hand and we run towards the now open door, I do my best to ignore the pain in my ankle. Slowing down and letting go of his hand, we pass Jacqui.
"Come on Jac."
"No, I can't," She shakes her head.
"Jacqui!" I cry as Rick grasps my wrist dragging me out of the computer room.
We get to the entrance as Daryl, Shane and T-Dog are trying to find something to break the windows with. Carol comes to the rescue handing Rick the grenade that she found in his uniform. Ducking down with the others, Rick shelters me from the blast after he throws it. It's not the best time to notice the solidity of his body, but it can't be helped.
However, there's no time to pause the walker's attention is now on us, and we don't have much time. The countdown is seconds away. Daryl looks after D, and somewhere between stepping out of the facility and getting to the car, Carl breaks away from Lori.
"Carl!" Lori's shout is desperate and terrified.
"I've got him!" I yell and grab him, hoping Lori heard me.
Hauling him along with me, and racing after Rick, Carol and Sophia, we stumble a little. There's a made scramble to get into the back of the Cherokee. Throwing myself over Carl, Rick then covers my own as the whole building explodes. I bury my face into the kid's back holding him tight. The blast is deafening. Once it all dies down, we sit up and look at the devastation. The building is gone taking Jacqui and Jenner; the surrounding area is black with destroyed vehicles. The only good thing about this is the walkers have been incinerated.
