Before

Edwards tried to talk her out of it, but she didn't give a shit what he thought. It was time, and if the macho-soldier guys didn't take her with them she was going off on her own. Her wounds had healed, her vision and hearing returned, and the headaches only came on once or twice a week instead of everyday. She'd run lap after lap around the building and dispatched any walkers that came too near. She was ready.

What she didn't expect was for the cowardly man to get in her face and near-threaten her. "What do you think they're going to do when they find out?" he asked pointedly.

Beth covered her right wrist with her other hand before tugging her sleeve lower. "They're not going to find out. And if you tell them I'll shove you down that elevator shaft just like O'Donnell."

He stepped away from her quickly, knowing that she was telling the truth. The girl who he saved from a gunshot wound to the head was not the same girl he once tricked into killing a man. And he wasn't the only one to realize it. The other occupants of Grady, the few that remained, were undoubtedly scared of the blonde girl. She snapped in response to anyone who tried to speak to her, and the angry, red scars on her face just reminded them of the things that happened under Dawn's reign.

"I'm going," she said as she turned back to the backpack she was packing with supplies.

Now

Much like her past, she needed to get the fuck out of there, fast. There was about 5 minutes left before she collapsed from the pain and her apartment was a 10 minute walk from here. And she was not going to pass out in front of her subordinates. "Take her back," she told whichever CRM member in the room would listen to her command. "We'll deal with Grimes tomorrow." She stood and left the room before anyone could protest, and booked it towards her quarters on the other side of the compound.

Her vision started to blur when she was a handful of steps away from the building's door, but she pushed through until she made it up the stairs and to her apartment, locking the door behind her and sliding to the floor. Her breath was hurried and she tried to calm herself, but her head was pounding in a way that made her want to lay down and die. It only took a moment for her to remember that she was better than that before letting out a groan and forcing herself back on her feet.

She left the lights off, not about to risk the brightness worsening things. She reached behind her head to let down her hair, feeling instant relief from the tight bun she'd had it secured in. Next she shucked off her overcoat and threw it to where she thought her couch was, and stumbled into the kitchen for a glass of water. There was an empty mug still sitting on the counter from that morning when she'd woken up thinking it would be just another day of preparing for the Summit, now that the larger herds of delts had been directed elsewhere. She did not expect to have Thorne bang on her door during breakfast with a note from Stokes. And she really did not expect that note to say that Grimes had finally escaped, with his wife who had recently been taken on as a consignee.

The fact that Stokes hadn't informed her of Michonne's arrival immediately set her blood boiling. She did sometimes wonder if the strange woman still held loyalty to the people she left behind, but it hadn't really been an issue until now.

She grabbed the mug and turned on the faucet, drinking two cup-fulls before reaching into a cabinet for some Oxycontin. While the Civic Republic had more than enough supplies to go around, she limited herself to only taking something when the headaches got this bad. Opening the bottle, she shook a couple of pills out before refilling the mug and tossed them onto her tongue and washing them down. After emptying the rest of the cup down the drain she headed for her bedroom.

Because of her position at the Civic Republic, her apartment was much more lavish than it needed to be. Her room here was bigger than any other she had in her life, despite the fact that she really only needed a bed and a dresser. The large window that looked out into the mountains covered almost the whole of the far wall, and the attached bathroom had a beautiful freestanding tub and a shower. Much more than she needed to get by.

A consignee would come by and clean for her weekly–whatever small messes she made. It was mostly laundry as she hardly spent any time here other than to bathe and sleep, and even then, she was hardly ever here. She made it a point to travel throughout the CRM's stations as much as possible, making sure that everyone was staying on mission. The only real trouble they'd had with that was due to the man currently in lockup–and she had to deal with those instances from afar.

She sat on her bed to pull off her boots, and considered that she should probably shower. In the end, she decided that it could wait until morning. She tiredly finished undressing, removing everything but the skin tight long sleeve and her shorts, before laying back and running her fingers over her sleeve covered arm, feeling the slight bumps beneath.

It was important to remind herself why the mission had more significance than any ghosts from her past. She didn't let go of that thought as she relaxed to the calming rhythm of the pattern she drew and quickly fell asleep.