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𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐎𝐍𝐄

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃

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"𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔?" said one of the five prisoners.

"Who the hell are you?" Daryl mocked back.

I shook my head, snarling, "We ain't got time for that! Maggie, press on his knee. You gotta do it hard. Rick, help me tie this." I was cutting through my flannel, ripping a stirp free to use as a tie. We fastened my shirts around Hershel's wound, Rick tying it tightly into place, but blood was already seeping through. "Fuck, did you even look where you were hittin'?" He cut through a major artery. We could've avoided it, if we had more time.

"Why don't you come out of there?" said Daryl.

I heard the shuffling of feet.

"What happened to him?"

"He got bit," said Daryl.

"Bit?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Easy now..."

I turned as Rick finished the wrap. I was on my feet and moving forward. One of the prisoners with long hair, a man who would have once been very attractive, had pulled out a gun. It was a little thing and definitely not his.

"Nobody needs to get hurt."

I couldn't even register who was speaking. There was a ringing in my ears and Hershel's blood was a little too warm against my skin. I moved towards the man as he turned his gun on T-Dog who still stood at the door, holding it closed for us. I slammed my fist into the crook of the prisoner's elbow, bending his arm back sharply from the punch. He let go of the gun enough for me to snatch it from his hands, hooking my foot behind his knee and sending him to the ground as I snapped at him, "We ain't got time for this, asshole."

"Whoa! Whoa!"

"Hold on, bitch!"

I motioned with the new gun for Glenn to move forward, ignoring the bitch comment from one of the prisoners and said, "Look for medical supplies in there, now. Gauze, sterilizers, pain medications, disinfectants, I don't care! Anything!"

"Who the hell are you people, anyway?" grunted the man at my feet.

"Don't look like no rescue team," said another.

"Oh my god," I hissed. "We don't have time for this. Glenn, hurry up! Rick, lift him up now. Maggie, get him by the legs." I heard rattling where Glenn had gone and he came charging out with a cart.

"Come on, we gotta go," said Rick, lifting the old man. "T, the door!"

"Don't be crazy, don't open that!"

T-Dog was already backing away and I tucked the prisoner's gun into my waistband and leapt into action. Only one walker entered the door and T-Dog thrusted it back against the wall. A guard in full uniform, like the ones that had been in the yard. He had to slam the walker's head back at a tilt to push his knife up and under the helmet.

We scrambled down the hallway, my first thought was Hershel rather than the prisoners at our back, but their feet coming down the hall made me reconsider.

I let Daryl take the lead as I confronted the prisoners behind us.

"You!" I snarled, pointing at the long haired man. "Ten feet back!"

He raised his hands and they slowed behind us. I didn't need these men, whose crimes I did not know, coming with us where the children and other women were. I heard Rick shout for Carl as we entered the common space. The prisoners followed and I pointed at them sharply.

"Close that door behind you and stay fuckin' put."

I didn't think five grown men would listen, but they did. I heard more commotion from inside the cell block and my name being called, frantically.

"Daryl, T-Dog, stay and watch them," I said. I passed Daryl the prisoner's gun and said over my shoulder, a lie, "Maybe, if you're good, you'll get your little weapon back."

Inside the cell block, Hershel's room was filled with people. Carol was on her knees, Lori standing by the wall with Nancy, and Beth looking pale. Even Glenn was crowding the room, kneeling by Hershel's head, still dressed in his riot gear.

"I need to keep his leg elevated," said Carol, raising Hershel's leg up and onto the end of the bed, laying it up against the post. "Grab pillows!"

I pointed swiftly towards the perch, "Beth, I need you out of this room and grabbin' my bag. Carol, keep the pressure there. Maggie, on his knee again. Lori, Nancy...you just stand there."

"He's already bled through the sheets," said Maggie, over Carol's shoulder as Beth handed me my bag.

"We can burn the wound to clot the blood. I can start a fire," offered Glenn, panicked just like the rest of us as he took the spot I'd told Maggie to originally go. I winced at Glenn's suggestion. That would've been the right idea if Hershel hadn't gone through a tremendous trauma already or if we had true sedatives.

"The shock could kill him," said Carol. "It's not gonna stop the arteries from bleeding."

I nodded, agreeing as Carl brought down towels from Lori's cell. They were passed to all of us as I dug through my other bag that Beth had brought over swiftly. I pulled the vials free and smiled. Liquid opioids, basically anyone's drug of choice. I pulled out one of the needles I'd gotten at the school, ones we'd had stocked up on for Carl's surgery but hadn't used.

I prepared the needle and then slowly injected a partial amount into the old man who was horrifically still and pale. Yet, his chest continued to rise. I was afraid of doing too much, his breathing was labored and he was still deathly pale. I didn't want to send him into an early grave, especially when we had him on the cusp of coming out of this alive.

"Press those towels tighter, we're gonna need to secure them to the wound," I explained. "If we can get the bleeding to stop, we can apply these." I pulled out the gauze and ointments I'd collected. I bet everyone was thankful now I'd gone back to the farm for all this.

"It's only a day trip, but at least it's somethin', right?"

Daryl started his bike and grunted. "Rick didn't approve this."

"What he doesn't know, won't kill him."

I'd gotten a lot off the night we'd been run off, but the second trip during the winter had secured us with some valuables. Carol stacked the pillows Carl had also grabbed underneath Hershel's leg so we could both now properly look at the wound.

There was a commotion out in the common room and Rick muttered something, leaving swiftly. He'd been behind us for some time, something I hadn't clocked because of how focused the room had become. I hadn't realized how much time had passed from his leaving and now, but we'd gone through two towels and my shirts were forever ruined.

The wound was still bleeding, but not as badly. I held back my wince to a deep swallow. The wound itself was not pretty but the cut job Rick had done was clean enough. Tendons and bone could be seen, so exposed that even a soft breath against the ruined flesh would send a grown man to his knees and, probably, to a heart attack. "This..."

"It's not ideal," finished Carol. "But the gauze you got, it'll work once all this stops. If we get him through this–"

"When," corrected Lori. "When we get him through this."

"We'll need crutches."

"Right now we could use some antibiotics. There's gotta be an infirmary here."

I wiped my face with the back of my hand to avoid swiping blood over my forehead. "Listen, I got a bad idea and y'all might hate it, but..."

"You're gonna ask those prisoners for help, aren't you?" muttered Glenn from the doorway with Carl.

"They gotta know this place better than we do," I said. "If they can lead the way...well..."

"You can't leave," said Beth in a trembling voice.

I forced myself to stand. "I'm the only one who knows what to grab. Carol and Lori have got this, and they'll continue to have this in the thirty minutes I'm gone." I brushed a strand of hair from Beth's sweaty and worried face, offering her a smile. "Your dad's strong, okay? But we need more painkillers, antibiotics, sterile gauze and wraps. The infirmary will have that."

I stood by Hershel for a moment, checking his forehead with the back of my hand. It wasn't hot, which likely meant there was no fever. I moved my hand down to his nose, feeling his breath against my skin. It was a slower breath, no doubt from the trauma his body had gone through.

I motioned for Glenn to follow me out of the room as I went to the door for Carl to unlock. He still had my keys. "Listen, I'm sure Rick's already given you the talk."

"If he dies," muttered Glenn, "then I gotta be here for it."

I nodded. "If he dies, don't let him turn. You get it done quickly and cleanly. You got a knife?"

He nodded.

"Use that. Take care of Maggie, be her rock, and you," I looked at Carl, "be there for Beth. The worst is done but there's still a bridge we gotta cross."

Carl unlocked the door as Glenn went back to the women. He met my eyes and I raised a brow. He was being suspicious. I knew this kid better than most, I'd like to say, so I knew when he had his brows drawn and his eyes twinkling just a little too much there was something suspicious going on. I knew he was up to something.

"Spill it."

"What? No..."

"Now."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Sam."

"Tell me what you're thinkin' or so help me, Carl."

He shifted on his feet, twiddling with the keys before sighing. "I wanna go to the infirmary."

"No."

"Come on!"

I crossed my arms. "You think your mom's gonna say yes? Or your dad?"

"Well, no..."

"Then the answer is no."

"I'll just go without you or them knowing."

"Carl!"

"What!"

I gritted my teeth together. "You're makin' this harder than it's gotta be." I ran a hand down my face and sighed. "I'm gonna find out where the infirmary is and then..."

"Yes...?"

"...then we'll go together." I rolled my eyes. "Don't look so smug 'bout this. You know you're my weakness, kid."

Rick and Lori were going to kill me for this but that would be a later issue. If Carl wanted to play hero, I'd let him, but only with a chaperone. I headed out of the prison and towards the door leading to the yard, peering outside where Rick had taken the prisoners to finally see the truth of their situation.

They had seemed far too confused in the cafeteria to have known what was truly going on. The cafeteria doors had been locked from the outside, there was no way they could've gotten out unless they really tried. And, it seemed, they didn't really try.

"Why do you boys look so angry?" I called out, wiping blood from my fingers against the ends of my torn flannel as I walked down the few steps. "Shouldn't there be smiles? You're seein' the sun for the first time in months. Come on," I purred. "You'd all look so handsome if you just smiled a bit."

The group turned as I finally approached.

I regarded them all, one at a time. There was a very tall man who seemed like a teddy bear, another tall man just a head shorter, a very short man who had an expression I did not like, the one with long hair who had a few tattoos, and a little fellow with a handlebar mustache and light hair. "Lookin' a little too pissed for a bunch of free men."

"You took my gun," said long hair.

"I don't care." I turned to the man with the handlebar mustache and the two taller men. "I'd like to ask for your help, if you're willin' to give some."

"Ma'am...I'm not sure there's much we can do," said the handlebar.

"My name is Sam," I said, holding out my hand to him. "I'm one the new and very proud owners of your prison."

He took it and he seemed genuinely happy to have been offered such a small kindness. He clasped it softly and shook. "I'm Axel."

"Oscar," said the second tallest man.

"They call me Big Tiny," said the tallest of the group and I smiled.

"I'm–"

I held up my hand towards the man with long hair. "And I don't care, thank you." Out of the corner of my eye, I could see his arm raise and I held up my hand and snarled, "If you even think of touchin' me, I will break your goddamn hand." I turned to Oscar, Axel, and Big Tiny, my smile returning. "But you three..." I could read men well, I could tell when they wanted to cause harm and these three didn't give off that impression. The other two, well, if you raise a gun at my friends then I'm going to assume you're not all that great.

But there was something about them I didn't like. It was the same with Dave in the bar during that awful night we'd gotten Randall and I'd been shot. They were never going to be helpful or kind to us. I had a good feeling, even if Rick didn't already, that those two men would cause trouble for us down the road.

"I was hopin' you three could help me."

"Sam..." muttered Rick from behind me. I could tell from his tone alone that he was glaring and that I had just walked into something bigger than me. "We were just agreein' on clearin' out a cell block in exchange for half their food."

I didn't bother looking at him, but I could see Daryl and the smile he was trying to hide. "Well, I need somethin' too."

Axel smiled, a little crooked but genuine. "How can we help you, ma'am?"

"I'm lookin' for your infirmary," I said, "and I'm willin' to help y'all out with any future injuries if you can tell me how to get there from Cell Block C."

The men looked at each other, considering.

"This deal doesn't last for long," I said, my hands going to my waist to show that I had weapons strapped to both hips. I didn't need them thinking I was an easy target for them to lure out to their side of the prison. "You tell me how to get to the infirmary and you'll have free healthcare."

"If we tell you where it is," said the long haired man, budging into my conversation, "we want you to come clear a cell block with us."

"No."

"Then no deal."

"Hey, man–" Oscar tried to intervene but the long haired man shot him with a glare.

"If the princess wants the infirmary, she's gonna have to work for it." God, I did not have time for this but he just kept going. "Because," he let out a little laugh, "there's a few ways you can work for it."

I turned and met his eyes, forcing a smile to my face and hoped it didn't look like a grimace. "How 'bout you tell me? Hm? How can I work for it?"

The grin he returned was one I couldn't wait to wipe off his face. Perhaps, I could start with a fist and then progress to a knife. I could grab his tongue and pull until I could cut my knife through his tender muscle. Or, maybe, sewing his lips together or, even better, I could–

"See that look on her face?" grunted Daryl, jerking a thumb towards me. "She's runnin' through every way she's gonna make you hurt. You want that?"

"If she hurts us, she's gonna have to treat us. Be a real shame if my d–"

"I'm gonna pop your eyeballs with my thumbs," I muttered, taking a step closer to him, "and make you suck 'em clean." I reached out, smoothing out his dirty tank top. He felt strong, but I'd felt stronger. He thought he could be rude, inappropriate with me, because I was a woman. He had no idea the things I could do to hurt him. "But first, you're gonna tell me where to find the infirmary and then I'll consider helpin' you clear a cell block. Not for you, but for your friends who have treated me with respect. If you're lucky, I'll let you keep your eyes and your tongue but I'm sure there's somethin' more precious you'd rather keep."

His eyes widened only slightly for me to know he'd gotten the message. It gave me a chance to truly regard him. He was young but only slightly younger than Rick and Daryl. I'd guess he could've been around Glenn's age. Oscar and Axel looked like the oldest of the group, with this man and his little follower looking the youngest. It made me wonder what crimes they had to commit to be here and how long they've been imprisoned for. Were they here when John was?

I ignored my burning questions and turned to face the group. "Now," I purred, "how about that infirmary?"

───── ⋆⋆ ─────

𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐀 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐎𝐅 instructions after about five minutes of following the prisoners through the imaginary hallways in their head to get it down right. I had scribbled it all down on a small piece of paper that I now used with Carl down the musty hallways. He had my empty bag over his shoulders and his gun out and ready.

The sweet thing even had a silencer. It was almost cute.

We took a right turn and halted. At the end of the hallway was a lone walker. I looked over at Carl and cocked my head to the side, signaling that if he wanted to, he could. He raised his gun and I held my hand out, lowering his arm and shaking his head.

I widened my eyes and raised my brows, do it the right way.

He made a face, ugh, really?

I nodded, narrowing my eyes, yes, really.

He sighed and holstered his gun. He held out his hand and thrusted it sharply a few times as if he was now in a big hurry.

I shook my head, not my ax.

He nodded and urged again, yes, the ax.

I narrowed my eyes and pursed my lips, you're not strong enough.

I fucking am, he narrowed his eyes back.

I pulled my ax from my belt and handed it over. I watched him stalk down the hallway until the walker turned. It was a prisoner, and it allowed me to realize that the only walkers we'd seen here so far had either been guards or inmates. No civilians. Now, this meant there wasn't a breach inside the structure but without investigating the rest of the building, I wouldn't know for sure.

Carl swung upwards, clipping the walker under the chin and sending it knocking backwards into the wall. It fell to its side, jaw clicking as a watery moan left its throat. He brought the ax down three times before the walker finally stopped moving.

He looked at the weapon, dark blood sweared against the blade and made a 'huh, nice' face. I took my weapon back from him and we continued down the hallway with no issues. It seemed, going out the other side of Cell Block C allowed us more freedom to walk the halls without worry. The main threats were all towards the cafeteria, or at least we'd brought the walkers there after the commotion we'd made earlier.

When we reached the infirmary, it was barricaded from the inside with gurneys. We were able to push the doors inward enough for both of us to slip through. Inside, there were only two walkers. One was handcuffed to a bed in a ruined inmate uniform and the other was trapped between two of the gurneys we'd moved trying to get inside.

I let Carl take the walker in the bed while I sliced through the walker by the gurneys. This one was a man in white, well, what used to be white scrubs. It seemed the doctor had trapped himself here with his only patient in hopes of riding it out but, upon further inspection, a bite to his forearm took him out before succumbing to dehydration and starvation. There wasn't a lick of food in the room.

"Grab all the gauze," I said as I came around beside Carl.

The room was about as big as the cafeteria with five beds against the wall with divider curtains. I made sure to check in each bed and throw the curtains back before allowing both me and Carl to relax. We'd shut the door and barricaded ourselves in, just in case. You could never be certain in a place like this, just how long you'd be truly safe for.

I went through the carts beside every bed, pulling gauze, gloves, syringes, bandages, hydrogen peroxide, and antiseptic wipes. The good stuff would be inside the locked cabinet near the front where the doctor's small cubicle would be located. I let Carl take a stab at picking the lock before I'd crack it open with my ax.

He'd grabbed a good handful of supplies from the first two carts and had filled my bag. He worked silently on the cabinet as I approached. He seemed extremely broody since the farm and now was my best chance to really talk to him.

"How you holdin' up, kid?" I asked, sitting on the edge of one of the beds closest to him.

"With what?" he grunted, still failing.

"You know," I muttered, "comin' here, Hershel gettin' hurt, and, well, your mom and dad."

"Ah," he said. "You just want to know if I've talked to her, huh?"

"Maybe."

"I talk."

I frowned. "Not enough."

He shook his head, giving up with the lock and turning to look at me. He had the same dark hair as Conner and the thought of my brother made my stomach flip. "I'm mad at her."

I nodded and said, "I know." I wanted to give him the space to talk. I didn't want to prompt him more than I had to.

"I love my mom," he told me. "I love her but...I felt like I couldn't do anything to help everyone without her getting upset. I hated upsetting her but I'm not a little kid." He must've seen the face I made so he sighed and corrected himself, only sounding a little bitter. "Okay, I'm not a little kid anymore."

I folded my arms. "Well, she's your mom. Moms get to worry and be overprotective."

"But dad is so different," he whispered, "and so are you. You and dad...you let me have experiences. Does that make any sense?" I nodded. "I get to see what this world is really like but mom, she wants to hide me from all of it."

"Sometimes," I said, "it's good to be shielded from all this shit. To be a little naive, just for a little longer, is a gift in a world like this."

If I could've shielded Conner, I would've, even if he would've hated it. It wasn't necessary to hide them away for long, but to give them just a little reprieve from the hell we've seen and gone through. Except, I believed in throwing them into the thick of it all. They need experience in order to understand and grow. I learned by experience, not by examples or oral explanations.

"But I understand," I said, no longer wanting to play Lori's side. "If I were you, I'd want to learn about this world rather than just sit on the sidelines."

"I felt like I was still a baby."

I smiled. "You'll always be her baby, no matter how old you are." Wasn't that how I felt about Conner? Always a baby, always the angel in my arms.

"I think I'm also mad about Shane," he said, this time his voice dropping to a near whisper. He was afraid to speak about him, I knew a lot of the group was. Shane had been so important to the foundation of our group, or our protection, but he wasn't the savior he'd pretended himself to be. "I get why dad had to kill him but mom...she started all this."

"How so?" I wanted him to tell me, I didn't want to have to explain everything to him. It wasn't my place.

"Shane loved my mom," he said, saying it not in a question but as a fast he already knew and didn't need confirmation. "He loved me and he loved the baby, that's why him and dad fought so much. Right?"

I shrugged.

"You know the answer, Sam, just tell me."

"Not my place, kid."

"But Shane and mom, they loved each other?"

I chewed on the inside of my cheek before responding. "I think your mom loved him, but not in the way he wanted."

"Why?"

I shifted in my spot, frowning. "Why what?"

"Why do people love each other but not in the right ways?"

How did I tell him that some people loved for the purpose of getting what they wanted? That some love was lust? Obsession? Guilt? That not all love was beautiful and soft or deserving. I could picture the loves I'd had. Shane's love, or infatuation, was made up of anger and guilt that he couldn't stop loving Lori. In another world, if Lori hadn't been in the picture, maybe his love would've been good but this wasn't another world and fairytales and soft love didn't exist for people like me.

Him had been different. All consuming. Lustful. Passionate. Kind. It had once been soft, too, but not all soft things tend to last when I'm involved. I thought he would've been my greatest love, someone who could caress me but be able to bite and snarl and nip at the warmest places of my body. But, like I've said, not all good things last.

"Sometimes," I said, trying to find the right words, "love isn't enough for some people. Not everyone wants just love. Shane didn't just want love, he wanted to be in control and that was a form of love for him."

"And my mom? If she could've just..." He shook his head, torn with himself and with Shane. "Why could've she have given him what he wanted? Both him and dad?"

"You mom loves your dad," I told him. "She loves him and maybe that's why she couldn't love Shane the same. Shane wanted everything for himself and your mom loves your dad too much to ever give him up."

Carl shook his head and I could've sworn I saw tears gleam in his eyes. "I hate them all."

"You don't mean that."

"Yes, I do!" His voice broke and I pushed off the bed. I took him into my arms, holding his head to my chest. His arms threw themselves around me, his hands clinging to my back. I felt his body shake and I rubbed comforting circles against his back.

"It's okay to be upset," I whispered, "you loved him too."

"I hate them," he cried and I nodded.

Hate could be love too.

───── ⋆⋆ ─────

𝐈 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐓 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 and was able to snatch the vials of antibiotics, pain killers, and other bottles of pills from inside. I read their labels and my heart skipped an ugly beat. ACE inhibitors and ferrous fumarates. Medications to treat heart conditions, like high blood pressure and heart failure, and pills for iron deficiencies. I couldn't stop my smile and breathed in deeply. They even had the beta-blockers he would take.

I took it all, stuffing it into a separate compartment of my backpack. Once I found Conner, he would have everything he needed here. I grabbed the rest of the medications in the cabinet and realized there really wasn't much left here. Guards must've raided the infirmary before everything truly went to shit.

But not before leaving all the good stuff behind for scavengers like us. On the wall, by the door as we were leaving, in a small glass case was a map. It showed us where the emergency exits were but where the main rooms of the building were located. I made Carl wait for me as I cracked open the case and pulled the map out. On it, I located the cafeteria, laundry room, the different cell blocks, and the main guards offices. I knew it wouldn't tell us where the armory was, since that would've been a step by step guide for prisoners to find their way over there.

I folded the map and kept it in my back pocket. I was sure every main room, such as the cafeteria and laundry room, would have a map somewhere on their walls.

I let Carl take the backpack, strapping it over his shoulders before we left. We didn't talk much after he'd explained things to me, but I did see him smile so I wasn't worried he was embarrassed for expressing his feelings, because he should never be. The world made it seem like men should be hardened walls of brick and steel, that crying or expressing themselves was for the weak but that wasn't the case. Men who could cry freely were the strongest of them all.

John never cried, maybe that was another reason why he was a little bitch.

When we got back to the cell block, Carl unlocked the door and let me in first. The noise got Glenn's attention at Hershel's door and he frowned.

"Thought you were organizing the food," said Glenn with narrowed eyes. Rick had brought back a good chunk of the inmate's food from the cafeteria while Carl and I slipped off to find the infirmary.

"Even better," said Carl, pulling the bag from his back as he approached. He tossed the bag inside the cell with a smile. "Check it out."

Carol gasped after opening the bag. "Where did you get this?"

Carl's smile got bigger. "From the infirmary. There wasn't much left but we cleared it out."

I nodded, meeting Lori's eyes as hers widened with shock. "I went with him, I watched him the entire time. He wanted to get this for Hershel. He wanted to help."

"It wasn't a big deal," urged Carl. I could feel how tightly he was wringing his hands, expecting a blow up from his mom but who could blame her? She was pregnant and worried. "I killed two walkers."

Lori was breathing heavily. "Do you–you see this?" She motioned to Hershel, still motionless and now handcuffed to the bedpost. "This was with the whole group."

"We needed supplies, so I got them."

"I appreciate that but–"

"Then get off–!" Carl cut himself off and took a deep breath. He glanced at me, took another breath, and very surprisingly said, "I didn't go alone. I made sure an adult was with me and we took–took–" He was fumbling for the right word, the words I'd told him to repeat if he was worried about his mom getting upset. "–took precautions the whole entire time."

Lori glanced between both of us and I nodded, backing up Carl because he needed reinforcement. He needed to understand that wanting to help is good but going at it alone isn't always necessary. Even I have realized that. "He was very aware and handled himself well. You and I both know he would've gone with or without me."

Carl nodded and took it as his chance to run off, hopefully to actually organize the food this time. Once he was gone, the room grew quiet and Lori murmured, "Sam..."

"I know, I know," I sighed, coming to kneel between her and Carol to finally treat Hershel's wound properly. "I should've asked you first. I definitely should've but he was so eager and he's been scared of askin' you for things. He's afraid of askin' for help."

"He told you that?" she asked and I nodded.

"He doesn't want to be shot down," I explained. "He wants to help but he thinks if he asks, you'll get upset with him. I understand, though, wantin' to protect him and keep him safe."

Lori nodded slowly, her breathing even again. "I know I can't stop him from doing what he wants anymore, so you gotta promise me you'll be by his side when he runs off like he does."

I nodded back. I had a gauze pack in my hands, tearing it open and unwrapping the contents as I spoke. "I won't let him leave my side, except for now." I motioned for Carol to take the gauze from me. "Imma show you how to wrap this right but I gotta head back out to find Rick."

"Why?" asked Glenn. "T and Daryl are with him."

"I don't trust all the prisoners," I told him. "There's two bad eggs. The other three are nice guys, I think I can get through to 'em."

"Will they stay with us?" asked Beth. "The good ones?"

I shook my head. "They're clearin' out a block for them, but, I imagine, if the two bad ones are gone, then maybe the others will want to stay with us. If I get more time with 'em, I can see just how good they are." They were still prisoners but that didn't mean they weren't kind people. "But first..."

I lifted Hershel's ruined leg and allowed for Carol to get the gauze underneath. I was worried about applying ointment to his wound with how open it was so we kept with just the gauze. I might've almost gone the medical school route but it didn't mean I knew everything. I told Carol what to do as she wrapped the leg because it wasn't just a wrap around a few times and called it a day. It had to go over the wound and back around. Not too tight but tight enough to keep it secure. Once she was done and had taped it, I grabbed my things to head back into the hallway.

"You sure it's safe to leave?" asked Maggie, looking back and forth between me and her father.

"He's got you, Carol, and Lori," I said. "All we really need to focus on now is keepin' him breathing. You three know CPR, right?"

Lori nodded.

"If he gets worse, if he gets a fever or something else goes wrong, you send Glenn or Maggie to me. I'm headed in the direction of the cafeteria, but I'm not worried you'll need to get me."

I pulled my ax from my waist, grabbed my map, and turned my flashlight on in my other hand. The group couldn't have gotten too far. I let Carl open and lock the doors behind me as I headed into the common room and then out into the first hallway. I traced my steps while looking down at my map.

I'd already been to the cafeteria but I hadn't been to the laundry room or Cell Block D, where Rick was hopefully headed with the prisoners. Cell Blocks A and B, it seemed, were on the opposite side of the prison and no doubt in the midst of the main breach.

I continued down the hall, planning on making a stop in the laundry room to scope out towels and another map since it was on the way to D. I wasn't deep into the prison when I noticed a few walkers. They weren't moving, rather they were dead and battered. Stabs wounds in their guts, slashes in their arms, brown blood bleeding through blue jumpsuits. Fresh wounds inflicted to already dead men.

It seemed like the inmates didn't truly understand the concept of 'just the head.'

I got further down and froze. The blood here, smeared against the walls and leaking across the floors, was red. I bent down to inspect it more closely and made the horrific realization that I was a few feet away from Big Tiny's body. His head was bashed in, far more violently than it needed to be. I located a bite on the back of his shoulder and understood what must've happened.

One of the inmates put him out of his misery before he could turn, and I had a feeling I knew which one decided to take that initiative.

From down the hall, I could hear a commotion as I came upon the laundry room. There was grunting and shouting, followed by the sounds of weapons hitting bodies. I picked up my pace, noting that the amount of cutting noises and gruff voices, there were more walkers than comfortable now funneling into the room.

The laundry room, when I first entered, was exactly what you'd expect from a prison. As big as the infirmary with large washers and dryers against the wall. There were two rows of metal shelving which still held towels and old uniforms all leading towards tables for folding and where the fighting was occurring.

I stuffed my map in my back pocket, flashlight in the bottle strap of my backpack and charged forward. Rick was on his back, holding up a walker with his forearm. I wasted no time bringing my foot up and kicking the dead beast to the side. It crumbled on its side and rolled to its back like a dead bug. I stomped down on its chest and slammed my ax home as Rick snapped a command at me.

I turned with his instruction and struck another walker under the chin as it charged me through a gap between the long haired prisoner and his little bitch boy. Those two were getting on my nerves and I hadn't even spent the majority of the day with them like my boys had.

When the last walker was on the ground, I whirled around and snarled, "What the fuck was that about?"

"It was coming at me, bro," said the long haired man. "I had to do it, get it away from me. You know how it is."

I glanced back at Rick. "He threw that thing at you?"

Rick nodded, a glare permanently left in his eyes from these men. "Yeah, yeah, but I get it." He came to stand beside me. "Shit happens."

I knew what Rick was going to do before he'd done it. I took a step to the side and motioned with my head for Daryl to be alert. T-Dog and I didn't have the same form of communication that I had with Daryl but he could sense the change in the air.

Rick had his machete raised and brought down onto the prisoner's head before anyone could've moved. The prisoner, blood running down his face gave us a blank look as he fell dead to his knees and then his side once Rick pulled the weapon from his skull.

His little friend screamed and charged with a bat but Rick kicked him back and to the ground, his weapon falling from his hands. I pulled my gun out with my other hand and raised it towards Oscar and Axel as Daryl turned his weapon on them. We kept them against the wall as their last remaining friend took off through the open door behind him and into the hall.

"I got him," said Rick, dropping into a sprint after him.

Daryl motioned with his crossbow. "Get down on your knees."

Both Oscar and Axel had no issue dropping to the floor. Axel spoke first, shaking his head with wide eyes, "We don't have no affiliation to what just happened. Tell him, Oscar!"

Oscar, with his hands up, stared with a sigh. "Stop talkin', man."

T-Dog had his gun aimed at Axel and Daryl held his at Oscar. I lowered mine and wiped sweat from my brow with the back of my hand before asking the obvious question. "What the hell happened?"

"Tomas tried to pull a fast one on Rick," said T-Dog. "Told him one door, the bastard opened both and sent the herd on us."

"And Big Tiny?"

"Bit," said Daryl, lowering his crossbow just slightly so he didn't have to hold it up to eye level. "Tomas took him out."

"God," I breathed, suddenly feeling the weight of the day. We'd done so much and it'd still only been one full day in the prison and it wasn't even over yet. "I leave y'all alone for what? Two hours? And it goes to shit?"

Daryl ignored my comment and asked, "How you even find us?"

I pulled my map out and handed it over. "Found it in the infirmary. I'm guessin' there's one in here too."

I let him look it over the best he could while watching Oscar and headed through the room. I stuffed three thin towels inside my bag, some old detergent powder, and then began my search on the walls. I checked by the doors I'd entered through and sure enough, there was one. I pulled it out and put it in my bag.

I was sure if I could get to the guards offices today, I'd find more and perhaps understand where the armory was connected to all of this. Since it was located outside the prison, there was a very good chance it could be located within the main breaches. If it was out there, we'd be screwed. There was no way Rick would let me out there alone and I didn't want to risk a group going after the incident with Hershel.

If the armory was there, we'd have no way of reaching it.

When Rick returned ten minutes later, he came back without the inmate. The younger man, I learned, was named Andrew and had been Tomas's follower from day one. Even though Oscar had told Axel not to speak, he explained the group dynamics to me while we had been waiting for Rick.

Tomas had become the so-called 'leader' only because he was the meanest of the group. That toxic masculinity had granted him leadership only because the other men didn't want to overthrow him and because they were considered weaker, even though neither Oscar or Axel would admit it. Andrew had been his lap dog, often doing whatever Tomas asked. The other three men were closer and it hurt me to see Axel and Oscar upset over Big Tiny. Spending so much time together in such a small place, it didn't seem fair for them to lose him after finally gaining freedom.

But this world weeded out the weak.

Rick pointed his gun at Oscar, demanding what the hell happened just like I had. This time, Oscar responded. "We didn't have nothing to do with that."

"You didn't know?" snarled Rick, unforgiving with his glare and pointed aim of his gun. "You knew. Daryl, let's end this now." I was all about Rick's bad cop approach but I wasn't the best at good cop, unless it was with the kid then I was great.

Rick turned on Axel and the smaller man squeaked. "Sir, sir, you gotta listen to me, please! It was them that was bad. It wasn't us!"

"Oh," scoffed Rick. "That's convenient."

"You saw what he did to Tiny," said Axel, shaking in his spot on the ground. "He was my friend. Please, we ain't like that." He looked up at the barrel of the gun then over at Oscar as he spoke, "I like my pharmaceuticals, but I'm no killer. Oscar here, he's a B and E, and he ain't very good at it neither. We ain't the violent kind, they were! Please, I swear to god! I wanna live!"

He seemed genuine, unless he was that good of an actor but I didn't think this little man was capable of telling a lie. Not really at least. There was true fear in his eyes and I'd only seen men beg when they really wanted something and Axel wanted to live.

Rick turned on Oscar where Daryl held him by the throat with a knife. Rick stared at him a long while before finally speaking, asking, "What about you?"

"I ain't never pleaded for my life," said Oscar, his stare unwavering, "and I ain't about to start now. So, you do what you gotta do."

Rick looked towards me and I nodded. There was only two of them, there wasn't much they could do to us besides know the interior of the prison better than us. They had no weapons besides the ax Rick gave Oscar and a knife for Axel. They were threats but nothing immediate. If Oscar's crime was only breaking and entering, I felt more at ease than I would've been if Axel had outed him as a killer instead.

"They just lost their friends," I said, tucking my gun back into my holster. "Safe to say they don't have much fight left to go against us. Two against four wouldn't be smart."

Rick lowered his gun slowly. "Get up. Both of you."

"We said we'd clear a cell block," I said. "So, we might as well take them there. They deserve it after everythin' they've been through today."

Axel stood slowly, his legs noticeably shaky. "Th–thank you, ma'am."

"I told you earlier," I said, jerking my head to the side of him to walk ahead of me. "You're free men now who need a bed and that free healthcare I promised you."

We forced the prisoners to lead the way. It wasn't far from the laundry room and we were there in no time without any walkers intercepting us on the way. Rick pushed Axel forward and through the door, the other man nearly toppling over to his knees. Inside, lying halfway inside their cells and out in the open, were inmates who'd been killed execution style. Their hands were locked behind their backs and there was a man in every cell on the ground level.

Axel breathed in deeply, as if in shock. "I–I knew these guys. These were good men..."

Rick, with no sympathy after such a long day, said, "Let's go."

"So you're just gonna leave us in here?" said Oscar, lip curled back in horror over the bodies still inside. "Man, this is sick."

"We're lockin' down this cell block," said Rick. "From now on, this part of the prison is yours. Take it or leave it. That was the deal."

I nodded, crossing my arms. "And I'd say take it. You won't get a better deal than this."

Rick turned to leave and Daryl did as well, but not before stopping and muttering, "You think this is sick? You don't wanna know what's outside. Consider yourselves the lucky ones." He paused in front of the door. "Sorry 'bout your friends, man."

Behind the barred door, T-Dog rested his arms against it and said, "A word of advice...take those bodies outside and burn them."

He went to follow Rick and Daryl down the hall but I stayed an extra moment. "Look, it's not so bad, alright? You have beds, you have food, and a space bigger than a pantry to explore."

"But it's filled with bodies," said Axel. "It ain't much of a home."

"Never said it was a home," I sighed. "It'll get better. Find a routine, stick to it, and it'll make you feel better."

Oscar looked towards the bodies and then back at me as he spoke, "Will you be comin' back? To check on us?"

"You want that?"

"No," he said, "but it'd be nice to have another face 'round here."

I shrugged, heading to the door. "Make sure this is closed when I leave. Maybe we'll see each other out in the yard, who knows."

I left them to their own devices and made it back to our cell block with the help of my map and my flashlight. There weren't walkers to kill, as if the mini herds had scattered either deeper or out of the breaches. I hoped for the latter.

When I returned, just a few minutes after the others, I found everyone crowded around Hershel's cell. There wasn't a panic which told me he was still alive. There seemed to have been an incident but it wasn't dire as no one was moving. Everyone seemed peaceful, like a great weight had passed off everyone's shoulders.

I took a peek inside before Glenn pulled me away. Hershel was holding Rick's hand. He was breathing, his eyes were fluttering, and he was holding onto both Rick and Maggie's hands. Rick glanced towards me through the bars and offered me a nod. He knew he couldn't have done it without me, not as smoothly at least. I'd kept the wound packed and clean. I'd forced them to move faster than they would've without me giving instructions.

Yes, I believe they could've saved him without me but I had the pain killers. I made sure Hershel was comfortable and that the wound was how it needed to be. He'd, hopefully, be up and moving in a week or sooner. I'd seen crutches in the infirmary but only in passing. I hadn't thought about bringing them back quite yet.

Glenn pulled me aside, muttering something about Carol needing me outside by the fences. I nodded back, told him we'd both be back shortly, and made my way outside.

The sun was warm on my face, the sweet late afternoon light like the warmth of opening an oven. I almost wished I could take my shirt off and lay out for a little, just to feel the warmth on every part of me. Only the sun could warm me like this, make it feel like a hug.

I made my way to the gates to the field and headed down the gravel path towards where Carol was stationed between the double fences. Next to one of the towers, she stood with a focused stance and a busted pipe in her hand. She looked back at me, as if to make sure it was really me, before looking back down at the walker she had lying at her feet.

"Thought we could use the practice," she explained. "Do you know how to do it?"

"Do what?" I asked, staring down at the walker.

She would've been pretty, if she hadn't been dead. Her skin was wrinkled and sour, a yellow-gray color. She wore a pretty yellow dress, brighter than her skin and the color of lemonade. Her hair was long, but stringy and a clump was missing on the side of her scalp.

"Have you ever done a c-section?" asked Carol. "Or watched one?"

I knew instantly what this walker was for. I swallowed thickly and shook my head. I'd never done one because, firstly, I wasn't ever a doctor but I didn't need to reiterate that to her. She was just nervous, like I was, that we'd be the ones in charge of delivering Lori's baby. Lori was already overdue or damn close to her due date, there was no telling how soon we'd be forced to do this.

"I know where to cut," I told her, finally. "She'll have an old scar we can follow."

"But how deeply do we cut?"

I dropped to my knees. Carol had a knife lying out for herself but I took it instead. She sank to her knees beside me and pulled up the walker's dress. "This won't be as accurate as it will be on Lori," I explained, "because of how dead this body is, but we can try our best."

I ignored how yellow the walker's underwear was and made an imaginary line against her stomach, just about where her pubic hairline would be for the cut. I was thankful Lori had a scar we could use as our baseline, because without one it made it far more difficult if we were in a rush.

"With a c-section, there will be 'bout seven layers of tissue we're gonna have to slice through which is 'round four to six inches deep." I took Carol's hand and guided hers with mine, allowing her to make the cut. "Then, when we get to the uterine wall, there will be an incision made there and that's where the baby will come out." I grimaced concealed blood leaked out from the wound we were making. "It won't be pretty."

Once we finished the incision, Carol sat back on her heels and sighed. "We have pain killers and gauze to pack her stomach if there's a bleed, but my god." She shook her head. Her hair had grown a little since the farm and she now had enough to run a part of her finger through. "I know we wanna stay positive, for Lori's sake, but–"

"We don't need to be positive when it's just us," I said and then spoke my truth. "I'd say we're lookin' at an eighty percent chance she won't make it. We have some of the tools but not enough to keep her alive."

Carol nodded, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. "If she has a bleed, we aren't equipped to stop that. Hershel, maybe, but us?" She shook her head and looked as if she would cry. "We don't have fluids or anesthesia to use. We don't have anything to close the incision with. We won't be able to keep her alive."

She choked back a sob and I didn't know what to do. I wasn't great with comforting women, especially when they were crying. Did I hug her? Rub her back? I couldn't tell her it would all be okay because it wouldn't be.

"We gotta pretend it'll be okay," I murmured, building off the lie we'd been living off of since we found out Lori was pregnant. Where we were now, this was all inevitable. We were going to end up here no matter what turns we took. It was always going to end the same way; with a baby and someone dead. "Maybe there will be a miracle."

We would need more than just a normal miracle. We would need some serious divine interventions to bring this woman back. But we'd brought Hershel back from the brink. We'd kept him alive, so who's to say we couldn't do the same for Lori?

Carol and I ended up luring out another walker to practice on. We ended up doing it two more times before finally calling it a night.

We could only hope we'd have more chances in the coming days, or with however much time Lori gave us before that baby came calling. And I had a feeling she would come calling out to us far sooner than we'd expect.

AUTHOR'S NOTE━━this one feels kinda rush so expect some edits on this later!! i hope you guys liked it and as always pls pls pls leave thoughts!!! <33 

the next chapter, sam is going to be a little unlikeable with her choices and she might even go back on some decisions/statements she'd made previously (a hint: something she did on the farm)

vote/comment and maybe sam will finally get a GOOD kiss