Skin and Bone || TWD Fanfiction

𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧

━━━━━━━━━.◦*∘☽

𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞

My insecurity rises the moment I enter my tent with Gage behind me; as it's a disaster.

Mine and Danika's clothes alike spread all over the ground, the sheets of both small beds crumpled into heaps of fabric on top of them, and there's other objects spread all over the tent in random places.

Shoes, books, weapons, backpacks.

I wrinkle my nose at the mess, but block it out as I move to my bed to sit down, now feeling the broken skin of my knuckles from when I pelted Ed's face repeatedly.

In my own opinion, it wasn't even close to what the man deserved, but it was either leave it alone or risk fighting against Gage and Shane, and knowing my skills, I wouldn't be able to successfully take them both out without one of them getting the upper hand and making me leave either way.

How I'd gotten into the position of talking to Gage Dixon is a mystery in itself, let alone why he'd suggested it.

Maybe it's a way to clear my head and keep my mind distracted so that I wouldn't go after Ed again and finish what I'd started.

I flex my jaw as I clench and unclench my right fist, feeling the broken skin grind together like steel and burn my hand from the minuscule cuts all over the bloodied knuckles.

Most of the blood is Ed's as far as I can tell;  a small triumphant victory even though I busted the skin on my knuckles while I beat his face black and bloody.

"Here." Gage says, grabbing a towel from god knows where and handing it to me, motioning to my bleeding hand and I take the material from him and press it firmly to my bloodied felsh, hissing when the jagged material connects with the fresh wounds. "Don't feel too good goes it?" He asks, sitting beside me and looking at the towel over my hand as if making sure I was doing it right and I glare at him.

"Not the first time I've had bloodied knuckles," I tell him and he nods, recalling what I'd told him about Basic training.

"It doesn't make ya a superhuman that's invincible to pain." He reminds me, referencing my training and I look away from his face and down to my hand as I remove the towel.

Most of the blood is dried and cracked with small beads of fresh blood seeping from a few abrasions on my skin. I cringe as I flex my hand again, more blood pooling from the cuts and I place the towel back over the cuts.

"Grab me the black backpack over there," I order and Gage looks at me for a moment, wondering why I'd demand the object and I roll my eyes. "There's medical tape and gauze in it." I tell him, and at that, he gets up from the cot to retrieve the bag.

When he returns I use my good hand to open the bag and grab out the tape, gauze, and cleaning fluid to clean the blood from my hand to give me a better idea of how much damage was done to my skin.

I place the towel on my leg and position my hand over top of it before grabbing the cleaning solution and then brace myself for only a second before pouring it onto my hand.

I hiss as the solution has alcohol in it to help clean and disinfect wounds, the burning from the fluid stinging into the fresh cuts making me bite my lip between my teeth harshly in order to not groan or make a sound in front of Gage.

When enough solution is poured onto it, I grab the towel and start to gently wipe away the dried and fresh blood, looking up to Gage who is staring at me silently.

"What do you want to talk about then?" I ask him and he snaps out of his daze and looks at my eyes for a moment, before I tear mine away to make sure I'm cleaning my hand properly.