Safe haven | Rick Grimes

051. AND HERE WE ARE

Chapter fifty one

"And here we are."

The next morning, Scarlett dragged herself up from the dark. She gasped, a dry, raspy sound tearing from her throat as her eyes snapped open. The ceiling fan spun slowly above her, blurring against the clinical white tiles of the infirmary. She tried to shift her weight, but a sharp, white-hot agony flared across her abdomen and shoulder, forcing a choked wince from her lips. Her head throbbed with a dull, heavy ache, the lingering anesthesia making her mind feel like it was trapped in thick fog.

A sudden rustle of movement sounded from the bedside. Carl sat up quickly from a plastic chair, his eyes red-rimmed and wide. "Mom?"

Scarlett blinked heavily, trying to focus on his silhouette. "Carl..." her voice was barely a breath, rough and cracked.

Carl didn't care. He leaned over the mattress, wrapping his arms securely around her shoulders. He hugged her tightly, burying his face in her hair. Scarlett let out a shaky breath, fighting through the numbing exhaustion to raise her uninjured arm and hug him back, holding onto him like an anchor.

The heavy clinic door clicked open, groaning on its hinges. Carol and Glenn stepped quietly into the room, their tense expressions melting the second they saw her upright. Scarlett slowly pulled away from Carl, blinking through the grogginess to look at them.

"Thank God," Glenn breathed, letting out a massive sigh of relief as he stepped closer to the bed. "Thank God you're alive."

Carol walked up to her opposite side, her eyes scanning the fresh bandages. "How are you feeling, Scarlett?"

Scarlett swallowed hard, her tongue feeling like sandpaper. She leaned back against the pillows, her breath shallow to avoid aggravating the stitches. "I've had worse," she murmured, her voice laced with fatigue. "The pain... it's bearable. For now."

She looked around the small, quiet room, her eyes darting past Glenn and Carol toward the empty hallway. The fog in her brain was beginning to clear, and a cold wave of panic suddenly cut through the medication.

"Where's Rick?" she asked.

Glenn and Carol instantly went rigid. They didn't answer. Instead, they exchanged a long, heavy look that spoke volumes.

The silence made Scarlett's heart spike against the monitor. She gripped the edge of the mattress, forcing herself to sit up further despite the tearing pain in her side. "Where is Rick?!"

Rick opened his eyes, the harsh morning light stinging his vision. He was lying on a thin mattress atop a metal cot, the walls of a makeshift holding cell closing in around him. Confusion washed over him as he sat up, groaning as a sharp ache flared at the back of his head. He looked down, noticing thick white gauze wrapped tightly around his bruised hand.

A low, cynical chuckle escaped his lips, and he shook his head, leaning back against the wall.

"What's so funny?"

The voice came from the dim corner of the room. Rick turned his head to see Michonne sitting in a chair, her arms crossed, her gaze unyielding.

"You were here the whole time?" he asked, his voice raspy.

"All night," Michonne answered flatly. "What's so funny?"

Rick sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "It's... it's like the train car at Terminus. After everything we went through to get out. I wake up, and I'm still trapped in the exact same place."

"Deanna wanted you in here to calm things down," Michonne explained, her tone measured. "Rosita patched your hand up. And Carl... Carl has been by Scarlett's bedside the entire time, waiting for her to wake up."