OUTLIVE.
❝The dead were never the enemy.
It was the living. ❞
THE WALKING DEAD.
DARYL DIXON.
BOOK TWO of the LANCASTER SAGA.
[ SEASONS 4 - 6 ]
*****
*I do not own The Walking Dead or any of its characters. I simply write to write. Astrid, any addi...
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[ 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."
