Forever Broken // Carl Grimes

Chapter 16

"We'd stared into the face of Death, and Death blinked first."
- Rick Yansey

~•~

Lauren jolted awake, a constant sharp pain in her skull. She rubbed her head with her fingers, wincing slightly at the dagger-like pain. She could feel a lump, and she had a headache to match.

"Fuck," She cursed, forcing her eyes to focus and her mind to return to her. Then she remembered she wasn't anywhere near Greenview. She remembered what had happened, the memories flooding back to her along with the sick feeling in her stomach.

Sam.

She remembered how broken he looked, begging her not to leave him again. She felt a tug on the seams of her heart and frowned.

I'm coming back to you, Grimes.

She was lying on a hard mattress, the springs digging harshly into her ribs. The pillow beneath her head being the welcomed softness. She groggily sat up, pressing her back against the cold grey concrete. She finally took in her surroundings, the stark grey around her, the dark metal bars that held her in her cage.

"Great," She thought to herself, "Another cell."

The cell was relatively empty, just her, a bed and a dirty toilet, sink and mirror in the corner. She stared at the toilet, realising how used to the almost luxury of Greenview she was. She sighed, standing to her feet. She swayed slightly before padding over to the cracked and streaked mirror. She wiped it with the cloth part of her jacket until her blood-stained face came into view.

She was paler than usual with slight bags under her eyes. Her red lipstick was smeared down one side of her chin. Her face was dotted with dried blood, she ran the tips of her fingers down the specks and sighed. She re-tied her hair into a high ponytail, the wavy length still falling down her back. She picked up a dirty washcloth, frowning slightly as she rinced it off before cleaning her face, the swirls of blood and lipstick draining down the sink.

She peeled off her crop leather jacket and fingerless gloves, chucking them at the bed. She wiped herself down, cleaning the dirt from her arms and fingers. She looked gaunt, but healthy. Her beautiful scars on show to the world, some still redish, others long faded to white.

She sat down, wearing just her leggings and string top. She picked up the fingerless gloves, pulling them onto her clean hands. She clenched her knuckles, wondering how long she would be left to rot in this cell.

What does he even want me for?

She didn't know what time it was, it could have been a day since she was taken, or as little as a couple of hours. She wondered where they were now. Back in Greenview? How many Saviors were prowling the halls of her home, holding guns to her people, making them give up what they had fought and died for. A spark ignited inside of her. She couldn't feel sorry for herself. She needed to do something.

She jumped from the bed, shooting towards the metal bars at a volitile speed. She looked down the hallway, catching sight of noone.

"Hey!" She yelled, "I'm awake, assholes."

She continued shouting for several minutes, banging against the bars until she heard loud thumping footprints stalk towards her cell. She sneered at the two men who appeared from down the hall, a wicked smile on her face. She looked from the bald man with a thorn tattoo down his neck to the other man, a short musceled brunette with one hand. A malicious grin appeared on her face.