no matter how hard they tried to run,
their demons followed them.
even into the end of the world.
no matter how far they run,
no matter how hard they tried to hide,
they found them.
[season 1-]
d.d x oc
r.g x oc
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MARCIE SIGHED AS SHE SAT ON THE BENCH INSIDE THE SMALL OFFICE, WAITING FOR PETE.
Deanna wanted her to get a check up before going out beyond the walls. She knew about the incident in Atlanta and just wanted her to be one hundred percent healthy before risking her life outside the walls again.
The door opened and Pete stepped in wearing his white coat, "Marcie, hi, I don't think we've met yet."
She shook her head, "I've met your wife, though. Nice lady."
"I like to think so, too." He gave her a small smile before grabbed a blood pressure band, "Alright if I put this around you?"
Marcie nodded, sticking out her arm and he velcroed it around her bicep, "I heard you were hit by a car? When was this?" Pete asked as he checked her blood pressure,
"About a month ago. I was in a van that fell off a bridge right before that, the air bag damaged my ribs." Marcie explained, "Then I got hit by the car and that didn't help. The doctors in Atlanta said I had collapsed lungs, too."
Pete took a stethoscope to check her breathing and wrote everything down on a chart, "Okay, can you take off your shirt so I can check your ribs?"
Marcie stripped off her long sleeved Henley and Pete's eyes widened, "When did you get those?" He motioned to the scars,
She pointed at the bullet wound on her side, "A few years ago and these were about a year ago."
"All of them? Even the ones on your back?"
She swallowed nervously. Due to lack of mirrors, she had never seen the marks on her back before. Daryl never said anything about them, and she had forgotten about them until now.
After Pete gave her a clean bill of health, she headed back to the house to pack a few things before their trip.
She stood in her bedroom, her eyes moving over to the full body mirror that sat in the corner. Marcie swallowed nervously before stripping off her shirt.
Marcie stared at herself in the mirror, counting all the ugly marks that littered her skin. She'd never seen the full extent of the damage that the Governor did to her.
Daryl walked into the bedroom, leaning his crossbow against the wall, "Whatcha doin'?"
She didn't move her gaze from her scars, "Why didn't you ever tell me I had these?"
"Had what?"
"These scars." Her skin used to be unblemished, before the world had ended. She would wear bikinis and crop tops without worrying about how she looked.
