Grit | The Walking Dead

Now

"Sounds like a crazy son of a bitch. D'you say a bat wrapped in barbed wire?" Daryl asked, visibly disturbed.

"Yeah. He was crazy. Probably still is."

I intentionally left out the part where Negan and I had whatever type of thing we had. It was stupid and unimportant.

We arrived to the wall we had climbed down from only a few hours earlier. Once scaled, the both of us dropped down on the other side, supplies still in tow.

My bite had been throbbing and burning the entire time we'd been walking. I couldn't wait to get it taken care of.

As if Daryl had read my mind, he suggested we go straight to the 'infirmary' and mend it. I agreed and followed him out from behind a small tree, only to be met with Rick and the rest of his group.

"Daryl," Rick started, confusion laced his voice.

"We went on a supply run. Got some information out of her. And you're gonna wanna hear it," he added before brushing past Rick, grabbing my wrist and leading me to a small building which I presumed to be the infirmary.

Once we were inside, Daryl directed me to a padded examination table. I sat on it and waited for whatever was to happen next. My gut wrenched; Rick was clearly unhappy about us being gone. How long had he known? Did they go looking for us?

"Denise," Daryl called. Denise was probably the doctor that had tended to my rib. Sure enough, the same woman as earlier stepped through the doorway behind Rick, who was still looking for answers. The rest of the group followed closely behind him, cramming into the already cluttered room.

"Do you mind telling me what's going on," Rick demanded more than asked.

"She got bit," Daryl informed, leaning on the wall and folding his arms. Rick's face softened.

"Oh," he mumbled, unable to look at me.

"I mean, I can clean it up, give her some painkillers until she...," Denise suggested, trailing off.

"She ain't gonna die. Tell 'em," Daryl nodded towards me.

I looked everyone over. Their faces were a mixture of sympathy and confusion.

"This aint the first time I've been bit or scratched. I'm immune. Or just really lucky."

No one said anything for a few seconds and I could hear everyone's breathing. Then, a dark skinned woman with dread locks spoke up.

"How is that possible?"

"I don't know. All I know is I'm not dead or sick, so that's gotta mean something," I responded, aware of how unsure I sounded.

"Where are your other bites?" Rick asked as he moved over to me, waiting for an answer.

I rolled up my pant leg and pulled up my shirt enough to reveal the scars. He ran his fingers over them one at a time, brows knitted in disbelief.

"Said you got scratched, too?" He asked, looking up at me, then back to the scars. Everyone was involuntarily leaned in, trying to catch a glimpse of them.

"Yeah," I answered as I turned my face and tucked my hair behind my ear. He ran a finger across that one, too.

"God," he mumbled in disbelief.

I looked over to Daryl, who returned a look. He seemed almost amused. There probably weren't too many interesting things like this that happened inside these walls.

"Okay, I need everyone to back up. Let me take care of her bite," Denise ordered, everyone took a few steps back. She turned around.

"That means leave, I need space and quiet. You guys breathing down my neck isn't helping," she stated, shooing everyone out except for Rick and Daryl.

Denise tended to the wound, dousing it in what had to have been alcohol. It stung like hell, tears threatening my eyes. I blinked them away, biting my lip.

"Feel like answering my questions now?" Rick inquired.

"No. Ask Daryl, maybe he does," I retorted as Denise wrapped my shoulder with gauze.

Rick started towards me, only to be met with Daryl's hand on his chest.

"It's cool. She told me everything."

Rick stared at me before easing up, turning to face Daryl.

"She better've."

—

"So you used to work for Negan?" Rick asked for the third time.

"Yes. You didn't understand me the first two times?"

Rick rolled his eyes, rubbing his forehead.

"I'm just makin' sure. If he's really as dangerous as you say he is, we need to think things over. He could find out about this place, take it over. Hell, what if he already knows we're here and he's just waitin' for the right time to-"

"Then we need to get out of here, if you're so worried," I interrupted.

His face fell into his hands as he groaned.

"Fine; I'll hold a meeting tomorrow with the rest of the group, see what they have to say."

With that, he picked himself up from his chair and walked over to my side, unhand-cuffing me from the table. I still didn't see why it was necessary to do that; not like I could get far.

Before I stood up, Rick held my wrist, leaning in close to my face.

"I'm trusting you. Don't make me regret it." He looked into my eyes for a few seconds before throwing my wrist back at me, more forcefully than I was prepared for.

As he began walking out of the cell, I called to him with one final question.

"Why was Abraham following me yesterday?"

Rick stopped, halfway out the door.

He turned around, "We look for people to join our group. Guess you were just lucky."

He turned back around and shut the cell door, taking the keys with him.

—

Damn wtf sorry for not updating in forever. There's really no excuse, I just procrastinate everything. Even the things I like to do. Hope you guys enjoyed, though. This chapter was a bit boring but next one will be a lot better (more Negan lmao). Also?? Rick is leaving TWD for season 9?? And probably Maggie?? What the fuck kind of bullshit is this? I respect Andy's decision, just upset that I won't get to see him for much longer. Or Maggie. Anyways, let me know what you think. Vote and comment, love you❤️