CHAPTER 12 | TOGETHER

TRIGGER WARNING:
MENTIONS OF SUICIDE
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Dirt and stones were kicked and trudged against Lauren's dirt covered boots. The sun beat down on her pale face, beads of sweat caressing her face. The humidity of the air made it hard to breath, the sounds of cicadas filling the silence. The three survivors slowly walked down a deserted road, not knowing where to go. Ahead of Lauren was Carl, and behind her was a pretty beaten down Rick. She had no idea how long they were walking for; it felt like hours had slowly passed as they baked in the heat of the summer sun.

Reaching behind her, she searched through her backpack to find only a few gulps of water left in her bottle. Unscrewing the cap, Lauren swallowed what was left of the water, the liquid cleansing her dry throat. She threw the bottle back into her backpack, surprised to find another full one; she had completely forgotten that she packed two. Lauren glanced in front of her to ponder if she should give the water to somebody else.

Deciding on that, Lauren quickened her pace till she was side to side with an angry looking Carl. Lauren couldn't blame him, he had lost his family at that prison, not knowing if he would ever see them again. Lauren thrusted her arm in his direction, attempting to hand him her full bottle of water. Carl glanced at the girl's way, but shook his head. Lauren rolled her eyes at his stubbornness, holding the water bottle closer to him to show that she insisted he should take it. He gave one last look at the water, before reluctantly taking it and drinking half of it. Lauren knew he needed it.

Lauren thought of going back to her regular walking place, but her body kept her regular pace beside Carl. There was some awkwardness filling the silence, Lauren felt that she was obligated to say something.

"I know how it feels to lose family. We'll find them, I promise." She mumbled while keeping her emerald eyes ahead of her. She felt his lingering stare on her.

"But you never actually found your family, now did you?" He replied, his voice seething with anger. Lauren's heart dropped to her stomach, turning to him with sadness in her eyes, and guilt for saying so in his.

"Sorry, I-shouldn't have said that..." he murmured while trailing off. Lauren took a deep breath while turning back towards her. He was right though, she never actually ended up finding her parents. But they were her reason to live, to keep on going. Because maybe one day, she would find them again.

"No, you're right. I never ended up finding my parents. But-I found you guys, and...you guys are starting to feel like family." Those words made Carl turn to her in shock. Lauren glanced beside her, trying to examine his eyes. She almost regretted saying that last bit since she had no clue if Carl and the group felt the same. What if she wasn't family to them? Was that a mistake to admit that, when the last group she was with changed how she felt about trusting people? She once used to think that her old group was family, but family don't end in blood and suffering. They were never family.

She seemed to be too distracted by her thoughts to notice Carl's touch against her hand. His fingers unknowingly intertwined with hers, her calloused hands connecting with his like two perfect puzzle pieces. She didn't think too much about it, nor did Carl. It wasn't a grasp of romantic connection, it was more of a hold of trust that meant 'we will get through this together, we are a team.'

The group seemed to always distract her from the dark thoughts, but now that they were gone, it was hard for Lauren to keep going at times. It reminded her of the days she spent travelling alone.

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Breathe Lauren, breathe. That's what she would continuously tell herself every night when she began having panic attacks from her past occurrences in the cellar. Joe's men had scarred her for life, cutting a wound so deep even Lauren knew all the tears she had shed couldn't fix it.

She travelled alone for a few weeks, getting minimal sleep and running low on food and water. Her skin was a pale white, and she was beginning to see her rib cage from starvation. She would often find places with water, but her biggest problem was food and sleep. Tears stained the ground beneath her each night, the slightest sounds around her making her heart jump out of her chest. She normally never slept, in fear that Joe would come back to damage her once more with his blood stained hands.

The sun was setting past the tree line, and Lauren had to find somewhere to sleep. She had found a small town with a few shops. One of the first ones she saw was a drugstore, a sense of relief washing over her when she walked inside. The place smelled of mold and stale food, but hopefully there were things left.

As Lauren rummaged through a chip shelf (finding only few bags left), foot steps were heard. Lauren's breath hitched in her throat as her shaking hands grabbed the gun out of her pocket and aimed it towards the sound. The young girl let out shuddered breaths with each step she took, moving closer to a backdoor where an office or extra supplies might have been held before everything.

The small footsteps continued, as Lauren let out a small whimper, moving closer to the door to try and open it. Before her hands could reach the handle it flew open, a figure standing behind it. Lauren immediately backed up whilst hitting her back on a shelf behind her. Gun still raised at the figure, Lauren peeked above it to see who it was.

Standing in the doorway was a small girl, around her age, holding a small dagger up weakly. Frizzy copper ringlets covered her head, a few tendrils falling in front of her face. She wore a dark red tank top with grey sweat pants and old looking black boots.

"Please don't hurt me," she said, hiding behind the door a bit more. Lauren's quickly beating heart told her to shoot her, not knowing what this girl was capable of. What if she was a member of Joe's group? What if she was bait to catch Lauren, and they found her again, and they would hurt her? But Josephine's blood of her hands scared her to death already, why should someone else's life be taken today?

She regretted killing Josephine everyday.

So Lauren lowered her gun and closed her arms in on herself. She was still frightened, until the girl slowly put down her knife and came out from behind the door.

"Are you alone?" The girl asked, and Lauren nodded.

"Same here," she replied while staring at her shoes. Lauren nodded in understanding, a tense and awkward feeling filling the room.

"I'm Freya, and you?" She asked while hugging herself like Lauren was doing. Lauren gulped once, trying to think if it was a good idea to tell her. But she did it anyway.

"Lauren," she answered.

Freya smiled softly. "That was my mom's name, it's pretty." Lauren glanced up at the girl with a face full of freckles, and nodded with a weak smile.

"Where's your family?" Lauren asked in a raspy voice, her throat begging for water. Freya then looked downwards, Lauren knowing the answer to that question.

"Sorry," Lauren mumbled while turning away from her. Freya shrugged her shoulders in sadness.

"I woke up to see them both dead, I-I think they killed themselves." Freya responded in a low tone. Lauren turned back to Freya, sympathy written in her eyes. Lauren could never imagine how Freya felt that morning to see her parents both dead, without even telling her.

"They just couldn't do it anymore I guess," she continued while fiddling with her fingers. Then Freya took a deep breath, and smiled lightly at Lauren.

"Anyway, this is where I stay. If you want, you can-stay here too?" Freya suggested. Lauren looked up, thanking her with a nod as Freya began showing her around the store. For the rest of the day Freya then showed her the small downtown strip (which consisted of tiny shops with minimal supplies) and let her sleep in the drugstore with her on a small mattress.

Lauren felt that she was already making a good friend.

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A few hours had passed and the three survivors had finally found a building. It seemed to look like an old diner. Rick stepped towards the door, ready to swing it open as Carl and Lauren brought their guns up for safety. Rick opened the creaking door, Lauren taking a glance inside.

"Wait outside, okay? Keep watch." Rick ordered. Carl gave him a glare, while Lauren let out an angry huff. He was in no condition to go inside alone.

"You keep watch," Carl spat back, Lauren raising her eyebrows at Carl's attitude; she figured he wasn't in a good mood from the attack.

"Rick you can barely stand, I'm not letting you go in there alone," Lauren added on.

"Excuse me?" He replied, his statement more towards Carl.

"We've done this before, we're gonna help you clear it. You should just-let me do it myself." Carl answered. Rick gave it some thought, glancing at the two before finally stepping through the doorway.

"Let's go," he stated as the two teens followed Rick inside. They were quick on their feet, searching left and right to see if anybody or anything was living in there. Lauren raised her gun upwards, keeping it level with her face to make sure if anything came her way, she would shoot.

"Kitchen's clear," Rick announced after he had passed the bar area. The only other room was a dining room and a bathroom. As the two made their way into the dining room, Lauren walked to the bathroom. Swinging open the door, she came to find nothing but an old toilet and a sink, a mirror hanging above it.

The mirror had dust and dirt covered on it, so Lauren began wiping it off. As her hand left the glass, she examined her complexion. Her dark olive eyes traced over her reflection, looking in disgust at her frizzy and unkept brown strands. Traces of dirt covered her cheeks, and small strands on her forehead stuck to it with sweat. There was a small cut on the bottom of her lip which was covered with dried up blood; she presumed it got there somehow when the prison got attacked.

Reaching in her backpack behind her, Lauren pulled out a hair tie and began putting her locks up in a ponytail. It was quite messy from all the tangles her stands had produced, but she always performed better with her hair out of her face.

Before she could continue to study herself any longer, a loud crashing sound filled her ears. Lauren immediately spun on her heel and ran to the dining room to see Rick struggling against a walker. Unfortunately, his axe didn't go all the way through the creature's head, as it was stuck in it and Carl was beginning to raise his gun. Lauren knew they had to preserve as many bullets as they had, and she had an idea.

Lauren quickly shoved her gun in her pocket, grabbed the dagger from her holster and began walking towards Rick. Before Carl could pull the trigger, Lauren pushed his arm away and went forward to stab the walker in the head. As she was successful, she took the knife out and the walker fell to the ground.

"I had that!" Carl exclaimed, Lauren turning to him while placing a hand on her hip.

"We need to preserve as many bullets as possible, dumbass. Besides, that gunshot could've attracted more." Lauren replied while harshly shoving the dagger back in her holster and walking out of the room. A loud sigh escaped her chapped lips, completely done with his attitude. The boys seemed to be collecting supplies, so Lauren did the same. As they stuck to the dining room Lauren went behind the bar and searched for anything useful. All she found were bottles of water, but that would suffice.

She just really hoped that they would find the group again, knowing that Carl was pushing himself down a bad path of anger and grief. Lauren didn't want him to make the same mistakes she had.

➸ ➸ ➸

"That one's as good as any," Rick stated while gesturing towards the first house they came to. Down the street were others, but he was right; this was the same as all the others.

The three walked up to the house, and opened the door, doing the same thing they did at the diner. With guns raised, they surveyed the area to make sure it was clear of anybody or anything. Lauren had followed Rick, and Carl decided to go his own way. As his father saw him walking alone down a hall, he decided to speak up.

"Carl!" He half shouted, half whispered.

"I got it," he hissed back, "all the doors down here are open."

"Just stop!" Rick replied. Lauren knew this would get him even angrier, as Carl lowered his weapon, turned to the two and began banging on the wall.

"Hey asshole! Hey shit face!" He shouted. Lauren began walking closer, seething with anger from how he was acting.

"What the hell Carl?" She shouted. Before she could continue, Rick stepped in.

"Watch your mouth!" He yelled back at his son.

"Are you kidding me? If there was one of them down there they would have come out." Carl replied to both of them, but mainly to his dad. The two Grimes glared at each other once more, before Carl went down the hall and turned the corner.

Lauren let out a deep sigh before surveying the kitchen and speaking to Rick, "he'll get over it, sooner or later."

And with that, she gave a glance to Rick and headed upstairs.

After checking the first room--which turned out to be a bathroom--she left it to see Carl coming out of a bedroom.

"Why're you taking his side?" He whispered, glancing at the girl who was gritting her teeth in anger.

"I'm not taking any side, I don't care what you say to him, I just...just don't be an asshole. I don't want you making the same mistakes I made when my life went to hell." This shut Carl right up, as he glanced to the floor and went into another room.

Lauren made her way into what seemed to be a little girl's room. Mostly everything in the drawer's were taken, but there was something still on the dresser. As Lauren picked it up, she studied he object. It was a photo in a black frame. The photo was of a little girl and presumably her father, mother, and big brother. Lauren began to tense up while staring at the father, an uneasy feeling going through her body at the familiarity of the man.

She knew he wasn't him, since she could never forget that face. But he looked a lot like Joe.

Dark room. Loud scream. Impact.

Not here, not now, she thought to herself. Her fingernails dug into the frame, her bottom lip quivering in fear. She hated remembering, she just wanted to forget every bruise and every blood stain.

"You okay?" She suddenly heard, turning her head towards the doorway to see Carl looking at her strangely.

"I'm fine," she breathed out while placing the photo back on the dresser. Carl raised an eyebrow, knowing that wasn't the truth.

Lauren sighed deeply. "The man in the photo just...reminded me of somebody that I used to know."

"Who was he?" He asked again, Lauren staring at her feet im search of an answer.

"Let's just say he wasn't a good man..." she trailed off while leaving the room in a hurry, wanting to end the conversation.

She didn't want him to find out about her deepest vulnerability and trauma. Not yet, at least

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[2695 WORDS]

a/n: tysm for reading this chapter and for 9k reads!!

heres are a few questions for this chap (i might start doing questions cause id love to know what u guys think abt this fic)

i) do you think lauren is going to tell carl about being abused? if so, when? (either soon or not for awhile)

ii) do you think the group will find out about lauren's past? if so, who?