[ xxxii. something we want ]

july 1st, 2012

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"DO YOU HAVE ANY guess regarding when she's going to wake up, Doctor?"

"Can't you observe the way she's stirring? The shifting of her eyes beneath their lids? She will wake any moment now."

Indeed, the one who spoke, whoever they were, was correct. Astrid Lancaster could feel her muscles awakening from slumber, and she stretched her legs before her. A strange sensation trickled over her as she detected unfamiliar fabric against her bare skin where she moved, and she swallowed her uncertainty. Reluctant to open her eyes, she clung to the remnants of her faraway memories instead.

Astrid's initial thought centered on a collision—her collision—with a vehicle associated with Grady Memorial Hospital. Her second thought went immediately to Daryl. She had no idea where he was and that scared her—terrified her. Alone with a trigger-finger teenager who had threatened their lives, she wondered whether they were mounting a rescue for her that very moment. Lastly, her concerns converged on Beth Greene. She was here, somewhere within these foreign halls, and Astrid would be sure to find her, even if it meant risking everything.

Eventually, she finally parted her eyelids, where they unveiled a pair of strangers standing before her. Positioned on the left side of her bed, they leaned in, enveloping her in an overwhelming closeness. One was a man, appearing to be in his late forties, attired as a doctor, clutching a clipboard against his chest. The other, a woman in her mid-thirties, exuded an air of authority beyond her mere appearance. She was unmistakably a police officer.

The doctor was the first to speak, his voice mild and soothing. "Hello," He greeted softly, "Everything is okay."

His words offered no solace to Astrid. In a world where everything had truly fallen apart, where every day was a fight for survival, the notion of everything being 'okay' felt like a cruel joke. In the past several days, she had traversed through hell, over and over again. She had nearly been killed—more than once—on that day alone. Absolutely nothing was 'okay.'

So, naturally, Astrid sent a withering glare toward the man. Her alert eyes then darted to a pair of scissors on her bedside table, and her hand reached out, only to be swiftly seized by the woman. Her fingers dug into Astrid's skin as she sternly stared her down.

"Don't even think about it," She warned.

Outnumbered and overpowered, the Lancaster woman reluctantly eased back into her bed. Her narrowed eyes returned to the woman's hand where it went to rest on the holstered gun at her waist.

"Calm down, Dawn," The doctor urged. His hands rose in a placating gesture as he placed them on the woman's shoulders. "There's no need for this," He implored, pulling her back gently. "She's just waking up. It's reasonable for her to act this way."

"She's acting like a child," The woman, now named Dawn, sneered, wrenching herself out of the doctor's grasp. "I have attendees younger than her who behave better than this."

"Do you need to leave? Can you handle this?" The doctor challenged. "Because if you can't, then you have to go. You're the one making things difficult. Not her. She's just frightened." Dawn opened her mouth to retort, but seemingly ultimately thought better of it, and fell silent. She took an extra step backward, begrudgingly creating a small space between them. Finally, the doctor managed a strained smile for Astrid, but even she could tell its forced nature. "I'm Doctor Steven Edwards," He introduced. "And this is Officer Dawn Lerner."

Astrid made no move to introduce herself. "Where the hell am I?" She demanded.

"Grady Memorial Hospital in Atlanta. Can you tell us how you're feeling?"

"Your people hit me with a car," Astrid said. "They took me from my people."

Steven frowned, his brows knitting in confusion, but it was Dawn who spoke, her voice sharp as a blade. "Your people? No one said anything about others," She informed, her gaze piercing. "My men only saw you. They said you came sprinting out of a building with the dead hanging all over you. You're lucky they didn't mistake you for a rotter."

Astrid pursed her lips, a sudden jolt of pain shooting through her side, causing her to wince. Instinctively, she glanced downwards and gasped at her appearance. The clothing she had remembered wearing was gone and had been replaced by a baby blue nightgown. Her once tangled, blood-stained hair was now clean and brushed around her shoulders. If it were not for the crumbling city visible, even in the approaching night, through her room's window, she could have easily believed she was waking from a regular coma—the entire nightmare of the apocalypse fading into the realm of terrifying dreams.

Pain tore Astrid's attention back. She hitched her gown upward, revealing several layers of gauze on her hip. With painstaking slowness, she peeled it back, and her eyes widened at the sight that greeted her. The mangled wound that had once bled so profusely had been properly stitched up and looked cleaner than ever.

"We almost lost you to infection," Steven confessed. "If they had brought you in any later, you would have been dead."

Astrid's bruised finger traced the line of stitches before she withdrew her touch, her stare flickering between the doctor and the police officer. "This was healing just fine without your help," She grumbled. "So, if you're expecting a 'thank you,' I hope you know that you're not getting one."

Dawn's glare intensified. Meanwhile, Steven laughed, a tense and awkward sound, as he placed his hands uncomfortably on his hips. "Can you remember your name?" He prompted.

"Bree," Astrid answered. She had no intention of handing them her name on a silver platter. How naive could they be to demand such a vulnerable revelation?

"That's a lovely name." Steven offered another strained smile. "Now, I understand this is all rather overwhelming. I mean, how often do you see functioning hospitals in days like these?" When she remained silent, he pressed on. "If you have any questions, please feel free to ask."

"When can I leave?"

Steven swallowed. "Not for a few more days, at the very least," He answered, as if seemingly reluctant to deliver the news. "We must follow through to ensure your side is healing properly and confirm you don't have a concussion. Dawn's officers reported that you took quite a hard blow to the head."

Astrid's patience dwindled. With an exasperated sigh, she ran her hand through her soft hair. Then, she pushed herself back into a straighter sitting position. "Where's Beth?"

Dawn's features contorted with incredulity. "Beth Greene?" She repeated icily. "You know her?"

Astrid nodded. "She's a part of my group. I know she was brought here because my . . ." She faltered briefly, her voice catching. "My husband saw her being taken."

"Where's your husband now? Is he nearby?" Steven probed, his questions coming in rapid succession. "Is your group close? Should we send a search party to bring them here, or send a runner to inform them of your safety?"

Astrid shook her head now, a stubborn and steadfast denial in her eyes. There was no way she would jeopardize the safety of her family by revealing their hiding place within the church. She would sooner meet her end than betray their own. Tugging back the blankets, she shivered as the frigid air grazed her bare legs. "I need to see her," She said.

The Lancaster woman tried to scramble to her feet, but Dawn's hand found its place on her shoulder once more, a forceful push driving her back onto the bed. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Before we give you something you want," She growled. "You need to give us something we want."

"I don't have to give you shit."

Dawn chuckled dryly. "As a matter of fact, you do," She retorted. "We saved your life. You owe us."

As Astrid parted her lips to respond, the door behind them creaked open, and her green eyes widened once more at the fresh sight that greeted her. Bright blue eyes and flowing blonde hair brushed back into a ponytail—Beth Greene stood there, an unmistakable spark of life and relief in her expression. Clad in baby blue scrubs, her fair skin seemed even paler, though that was not what really drew Astrid's attention. It was the freshly battered and bruised state of the teen's youthful face that held her gaze—a sureness to the horrors Beth had endured in this place. Two deep gashes on her left cheekbone and right temple had been poorly stitched up, and her right eye was nearly swollen shut.

"Oh, my God." Astrid trembled, her terror and shock plain as day. "Beth!"

As Beth took in the state of the room, her face transformed with disbelief. "Astrid!" She cried out.

Astrid involuntarily flinched the moment her name escaped the young teenager's lips. Beth's brow furrowed in confusion at her sudden reaction, but then it suddenly dawned on her, and she hastily covered her gaping mouth. Dawn's rigidity heightened. Astrid turned back to face her, her eyes locked on the venomous policewoman.

"Astrid, huh?" Dawn taunted. "And you think you have the audacity to lie to us when all we do is speak the truth towards you?"

From the corner of her vision, Astrid glimpsed both Steven and Beth paling slightly as Dawn confronted her directly. "How do I know what you're telling is the truth?" The Lancaster woman dared to hiss back.

Dawn chuckled darkly before she retreated, advancing towards Beth, whose eyes widened instinctively with fear. It clicked instantly then. The cruel reality of Dawn's abuse of Beth infuriated Astrid. Her eyes narrowed as she instinctively reached for the scissors still left at her side, fully prepared to use them. Steven gasped in surprise at her sudden move. No matter, before she could even turn around, the room filled with the ominous sound of a gun cocking, and cold, familiar metal pressed against Astrid's temple, freezing her hand in place.

Astrid's defiance met ice-cold wrath as Dawn wrestled the scissors from her grip and secured them in her back pocket. "Let's get things straight, Astrid," She spat. "If you come at me with any sort of weapon again, I will put you down."

"You don't scare me."

Dawn's smirk widened, a sinister glint in her eyes. "Well, it's a damn good thing that I scare the blonde now, isn't it?" Astrid's breath caught in her throat as the chilling truth dawned on her—if Dawn could not break her, she could certainly shatter the young girl across the room from them.

Astrid looked over Dawn's shoulder, where she saw Beth, still visibly shaken. The teen frantically lunged towards the door and yanked it open. "Run, Beth!" Astrid screamed after her. "Get the hell out of here! Don't stop! Go!"

Suddenly, searing pain rippled through the right side of Astrid's face as the full force of Dawn's gun struck her, sending shockwaves reverberating through her head and neck. She cried out, her vision blurring. When clarity finally returned to her, Beth was gone, and the door to her escape was left wide open.

Vile curses erupted from Dawn's lips as she holstered her gun, her fury clear and unstoppable as she turned to Steven. "Damn it!" She snapped. "Edwards, sedate the patient."

"But Dawn—" Steven attempted to protest.

"Sedate her!" The policewoman snarled, cutting him off fiercely. "Now!"

And with that, Dawn Lerner vanished from the room, sprinting out in search of Beth. Astrid could hear the echo of her fading screams as she distanced herself, until they dissolved into silence. Nonetheless, in her own panic and urgency to find the blonde before Dawn did, Astrid swung her legs over the bed, a rush of adrenaline coursing through her, but as her feet met the cold, tiled floor, she nearly crumpled.

Steven caught her in the nick of time, a hand gripping her shoulder as she struggled to remain upright. But it was not just natural bodily weakness now. Astrid looked upon the empty syringe in the doctor's other hand which had not been there before, and the realization struck her harshly—the contents of the syringe had already begun their way through her bloodstream. She weakly struck at the man's chest, yet her fists were like feathers, as he gently lowered her back onto the bed.

"Don't . . . Don't let her hurt Beth," She whimpered. "You have . . . You have to save . . . Save Beth . . ."

Steven's glassy eyes brimmed with guilt and sorrow as he mumbled an apology, "I'm sorry." Drawing the blankets up to her chin, he pivoted on his heel and was gone, the door clicking shut behind him.

Alone, Astrid continued to fight against the encroaching drug, but it was an uphill battle she could not win. Her muscles slackened, and her eyelids drooped, succumbing to the sedative's embrace. She released one final, strangled cry—a plea for help echoing through her fading consciousness, but she knew it was futile. The only one capable of saving Beth Greene now was herself, but she might as well have been the one tightening the noose around the girl's neck.

As unconsciousness finally claimed the Lancaster woman, the damning sound of her door locking reverberated dully in her muffled ears, leaving her imprisoned once more in the cold confines of the Grady Memorial hospital room.

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