sixteen. resting on the linoleum

sixteen˚༺⋆♱⋆༻˚↳ resting on the linoleum ↲

I TOO COULD REMEMBER A TIME, in the days of simplicity, when I had been immersed in water. Though, not entirely, only my head. My fingers slipped against the porcelain sink; the water in which overflowed, making the ceramic impossible to clasp onto.

My chest burned with agony as an involuntary breath overtook my throat, a searing mouthful of water rushing through my lungs while I attempted to lift myself, a stronger force holding me down.

Seconds after my arms had haulted from their thrashing due to a wave of drowsiness that hit, the hand against my skull lifted, leaving my head to pull back. Pieces of soaked hair framed my face, droplets of water trailing down my neck as I stared to the enraged one beside me, 'the man of the house'.

It was triggered by a simple action, whereupon, out of all the scattered beer bottles on the ground; him instructing me to get him another, I had told him that he didn't need anymore. That was when his drunkened state had him stumbling up, interlocking his fingers into my hair as I was dragged to the bathroom.

My blurred, stinging eyes traveled away from him, taking an uneven, large breath as my body subsided to the floor. His shouts drowned away from the sounds of the sink finally draining, water rushing through the weakened old pipes.

It was the cleaning fluid I dipped a mop into that reminded me of this past event. I dragged it against the floor, the tail dripping before I put it against the ground with a splat. I dunked it back into the cleaner, then repeated the action. I'd been at this for too long. Hours. The floors were clean enough, but I'd been told by Dawn to go over them at least twice if I wanted something to eat.

I'd been sealed off from the others, in my very own wing. I hadn't seen Beth, or Carol. None of the patients. Dawn didn't trust me to play nice with any other officer, being that I shot two of them in the city. They were both alive and recovering, but the male officer would likely never go on a mission again.

Dawn had already punished me for this. Multiple times. And I'd been so uncooperative that I was forced some kind of medicine every so often. My limbs were heavy and my mind was so weak that I could hardly form a coherent sentence.

Footsteps sounded from the opposite end of the hall, and my spine straightened. I was drugged up, but not nearly enough to be oblivious of the officer coming up behind me. Instead of showing her any fear, I continued mopping, pretending that she was only a fly on the wall.

"I want you back to your room." The officer watching me closely from behind spoke.

I leaned the broom against the wall, and turned. The air brushed against the tender, bruised skin just above my browbone, and below my eye. I stared at the displeased woman, catching the glaring reflection of her police badge.

"You promised me a meal." I told her, my hand coming against the wall to steady myself.

She tilted her head and admired her work on my face. "Did I?"

Her eyes looked oddly big. There were squiggles and lines in the air behind her. I blinked and nodded.

"I'm sorry, you mopped for too long. The kitchen is closed right now." She told me, grabbing my shoulder and guiding me into my room.

When we stepped inside, she helped me take off my boots. Most likely to make sure I hadn't stuffed any weapon-like object in them. Also because she knew in my state, it was too much of a struggle for me, and she didn't want shoe scuff marks on her clean linen sheets.

I sat on the edge of the bed as she turned to leave, stopping momentarily to look back at me.

"Glad you're back, Cyn." She gave me a tight lipped smile, then closed the door behind her.

Once I was sure her steps were receding, I got up, dizzily finding my footing while dragging a chair to the door and placing the back of it against the handle. I stumbled to the bathroom to splash my face with some cold water, then cupped my hands to drink it in hopes it would help ground me ever so slightly.

I lightly slapped my palm against my face, immediately regretting the action, as I had hit the edge of my black eye. I winced, backing away from the sink. My hands gripped the porcelain, and I looked at myself.

I was a sorry sight.

My skin was pale, despite the warm weather. I was always pale, but I looked almost sickly. My darkened hair was such a contrast against my exposed arms. It's long and unruly and I wished I had a pair of scissors to shorten it up. There were permanent darkened skin under my dull green eyes, and the bruises didn't help me look any better. Not to mention, the black and blue fingerprints around my neck.

I released a breath at my scary reflection, turning to go lay in bed. The second my neck met the pillow, a soft crackle rung through my ears, causing me to stand. I lifted it up, discovering a folded sticky note.

"Where ends meet. 6:00. "

Those were the only words written on the paper in neat, smooth handwriting, with a touch of childness to it.

I thought for a moment, wondering if this could be signifying the place where ends really had been met. The elevator. There was nothing else at this hospital that ended so abruptly. It had been the moment Beth, Noah, and I were the closest to freedom. It was the one exit.

What do you have up your sleeve, Beth?

I folded the paper in my hands, looking to the clock on the wall.

6:05

I ran to unblock the door, careful not to make any noise as I pushed the chair back to its rightful position. Slipping back on my boots, I cracked my door open, looked both directions, then began making my way down the abandoned wing.

Joan wasn't here anymore. She'd killed herself. This was Gormans wing. . .and he was dead, too. I was the only occupant left.

Passing Dawn's office, I was quick to keep myself out of her sight, while still making sure she was inside. The blinds were drawn but I could see light emitting from the cracks, as well as her own shadow sitting at the desk.

After this, I made a run for the elevators. My boots were heavy but they hardly made sound as I reached the double doors to the elevator bank. I placed a hand on it, testing to see if it was unlocked. When the hinges quietly sounded as the door went inward, I knew I was in the right place.

Beth was sitting at the elevator shaft, her legs dangling freely over the edge. She turned to face me, a bright smile coming across her lips when she realized it was only me. She was the same, although she was wearing a new cut above her brow. Guess we'd both been given our own forms of punishment.

I closed the doors, coming to sit beside her after the slight shift she made to make room. My abdomen lurched as I watched my feet drop over the open space. If I scooted an inch more, I would fall to my death. I sat still as a rock.

"You came." She said quietly, twisting her body to briefly wrap her arms around me. "I was startin' to think you wouldn't. I heard Dawn whisper your name, that's how I knew you were back."

Her legs swung back and forth, extending into the void of space.

"I just found the letter." I explained, itching my scalp. "Dawn's been keeping me busy all day. And forcing some pill down my throat called something like benzodi—"

She scrunched her eyebrows. "Benzodiazepine? That's for sedation."

I huffed. "She doesn't trust me."

"What happened out there?" She asked, looking at me with a profound softness. "Why is she so afraid of you?"

I grit my teeth, swaying my feet. "I shot one of her officers in the kneecap, then grazed one in the head. Tried to commit grand theft on their car, and kidnap the hurt woman in it."

Beth fingertips turned white as she leaned on them. "Carol? You were with her?"

I nodded. "I saw her crossing the street. They ran right into her, then packed her into the car. And—how did you know her name? Is she okay?"

She turned away. "She'll pull through. She'll have to; I tried." Her face lowered, looking to the drop. "Shes part of my group, has been for a long time now."

I furrowed my brows. Carol was a part of my group. What Beth was speaking of, I didn't know. The woman had been a member of Rick's group longer than I had, so for Beth to say such a thing. . .

Then, struck realization.

The name I couldn't remember. The golden wisps of hair. The similarities in accent, and structure to another; Maggie.

My mouth went dry. "Carol's with my group."

She looked back at me. Hope was sparkling in her pupils. "What group?"

"Rick, Carl — Michonne, Maggie, Glenn, Daryl—" I began listing off names. "I'm with them. I was at the prison when it fell. After I realized how horrible Brian was, I joined them. They accepted me."

Even with my blunt confession, she didn't seem bothered by this like Tara had feared others would. She kept her calm face, the shadows of a smile appearing on her mouth.

"I told you, everythin' works out." Her pupils dilated. "In twisted ways, but still."

As I was about to speak up, the doors behind us creaked open, closing again once I turned. Dawn stood, leaning against the wall. She was tired, strands of hair frizzing from the tight bun.

It was quiet, our breathing the only sound until she spoke up, "I had a feeling this would happen sooner or later."

Beth placed her head against the edge of the wall. "You can feed Cyn all the pills you want. You can keep me busy until it's dark. What you can't do, is keep us apart."

Dawn placed her hands on her belt. "Are you going to jump together?"

"Would you, instead?" I spoke up, directing this at the officer.

Beth gave me a not now look, and I shut my mouth.

"You left your elevator key where it was." Beth explained, bitterness attached to her words.

"Well, there's no elevator. No Noah to make you a rope. No weapons for you to run off with." Dawn responded, crossing her arms. "I know you aren't going anywhere."

"Neither are you." I pressed back, looking her up and down.

She was stuck, too. She had the means to leave—she was just too afraid. She felt she couldn't. Not after everything vile that she had done. The people she'd hurt, and the ones she'd failed. The things she had let slide. Gorman. She was only just barely in charge.

The blonde now spoke up. "You keep telling yourself you have to do whatever it takes just until this is all over. Force people against their will to be here. Let your officers touch your patients. But it isn't over. This is it, Dawn. This is who you are, and what this place is until the end."

Dawn tipped her head sideways. "This place saved you. I saved both of you, twice. The others don't know what you did. They think Joan was trying to get back at me, and that Gorman and Jeffries were in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"That's what happened." Beth said.

"Bullshit. I saw the smashed jar. I closed up my office and I fixed it before it could be a problem. You killed them."

"We would never kill anyone." Beth snapped back.

Even though she meant it lightheartedly, she was wrong. She would never kill someone. As for me, she hadn't known the things I'd done to get here. How easy it was for me to pull that trigger on those officers, in hopes that it would kill them.

Lerner shook her head. "But you did. What do you think would happen if the others found out what you two did? I protected you. And, I helped that patient. I didn't have to give you the medicine key, I wanted to; but there's a way things have to happen here, don't you get that?"

That patient—she was referring to Carol. Beth must have begged Dawn for the supplies to save her.

Beth opened her mouth to speak, but the doors behind Dawn came to a struggled open. Officer O'Donnell. The one I'd shot in the knee. He was bringing himself forward with a set of crutches. He looked between us, then at Dawn, absolutely baffled.

She was conversing with us in a place we weren't supposed to be in. It looked awful on her part. Beth and I got to our feet, the girl grabbing my wrist to drag me away from the open shaft. If O'Donnell had any sense of pride, he'd head straight for me and push me down the pit. I'd just ruined his life, and what was left of his career. He was nothing anymore.

"What are you going to do?" Dawn asked.

O'Donnell glared. "No Dawn, what are you going to do? Starting with them."

"They're my ward. It's my call." She protested.

"Fine," He said, "but your people deserve to know who they work for. So, are you going to tell them you're loosing your shit, or am I?"

Beth finally let go of my arm, the two of us watching as Lerner approached O'Donnell. His crutches creaked as he shifted his weight. He looked like standing brought him serious pain, but he wasn't backing down.

"You don't get to threaten me." Dawn said.

"It's not a threat. These are the facts. You look like shit. The guys were talking, they think you're cracking. This is Hanson all over again. It's time to make a change."

O'Donnell began crunching off, back through the doors, When Dawn stopped him. We all heard the click of her weapon as she raised it at him, causing him to turn back.

"O'Donnell? You're wrong." She clicked her safety off. "I'm nothing like Hanson. I was the one who killed him, remember that? I was the only one who could go through with it."

He turned. "Lower your weapon Dawn. All I have to do is shout."

"All I have to do is say you came at me. Beth, Cyn, get out of the way."

We walked further from the elevator, stopping on either sides of the wall, watching the man bring himself closer to the woman.

"You're not going to do this."

"You're not giving me a choice."

He looked to the floor, adjusting his shoulder on the cushion. "We were rookies together. You knew my wife. You were here, in this hospital, having cigars with me in the parking lot while my kid was born."

Lerner still hadn't put down her weapon. "Dont. That guy is gone. We're supposed to protect people, to help them. But look at you, you're beating Hanson. You're laughing with your buddies about that poor girl getting raped. That's who you are now."

Joan.

"So who the hell are you?" He asked the head officer,

"Someone who's not going to let it happen anymore." Dawns eyes gleamed with tears.

For a single moment, I felt proud of what she was saying. Though, words only meant so much. Actions spoke louder, and I would have to see a change to believe she truly wanted one.

"That's not what this is about. It's about holding on to what you have." O'Donnell shook his head.

She chuckled. "What the hell do I have?"

"This isn't you. After Hanson, you changed."

She was taken aback. In her moment of weakness, he dropped his crutches and came at her, elbowing her stomach and sending her sideways. He swayed and grabbed at the wall for support as her gun dropped and slid into the pit. She put up a fight now, tossing a hard punch to his face. It was enough to unsteady him but not bring him down. Lerner ended with her back against the wall, gasping for air as he limped at her and slid his hand around her neck.

"Get ready." Beth whispered, before attempting to pull him off the best she could.

This ended in failure. Beth was pushed backwards into the wall with a crash. While he watched this, Dawn found an opening of time to bring her elbow into his throat. He choked at the damage done to his windpipe, stumbling.

"Now!" Dawn shouted at us, knowing exactly what we were thinking. I grabbed his arm and dragged him to the ledge, Beth using the last of her strength to help me. When his head hung off, he attempted to grab the sides, but he didn't stand a chance against the two of us.

We pushed his body until it slid down the chute. That was the last we saw of him as he went downward into the emptiness below. A single splat echoing to let us know he'd reached the bottom.

▬ ▬ ▬

"Gorman and O'Donnell hurt people. The world didn't lose anything when they died." Were the words the officer spoke in the silent hospital room.

She sat carefully on the bed, staying clear of Carol, who was very slowly regaining her consciousness. She looked good considering everything. I hoped she would wake and be back on her feet soon. Beth and I on the other hand, sat on the ground with our backs grazing the textured wall. My knees were up to my chest, the red of my boots peeking from beneath my scrub pants.

"You both ran for the wrong reasons." Lerner told. "I never wanted to use you. It wasn't supposed to be like this."

I watched the officer, still drowned in shock over the events, contemplate every word she spoke with the utmost sincerity.

"You two did what you had to today. I will remember that." She said, interrupted by the radio attached on her vest.

It beeped, a mans voice coming across. "Dawn? Pick up, we have a problem."

She pulled its clip, pressing the button as she moved the radio to her mouth. "What kind of problem?"

"A negotiation. One you need to accept."

Dawn looked to Carol, who was laying beside her, then back at the radio. "Talk."

"They have Licari and Shepard. A trade for a few of theirs. Beth, Carol."

My next swallow felt like razor blades going down my throat. They didn't know I was here. They must have thought me dead. I wondered if they'd mourned me, or if they'd simply moved on. Death always happens. It's unavoidable. It was weird to think that I was nothing but a memory in more than one persons mind. To me, the group was more than that. It wasn't just a memory. It was my future, too.

I didn't fit into their future in this instance.

Dawn breathed out, then pressed the button. "Come. We can negotiate all you want."

Beth looked to me, sorrow glazing her eyes. She grabbed my hand and gave it a small squeeze.

The radio was now nothing but static as she placed it back on her clip, facing us. "Looks like your people don't give up so easy, either. Beth, get your stuff from the ward in west wing, your time here might just be coming to an end."

Beth hoisted herself up, then extended a hand for me. I wearily took it. I'm not sure why. I knew I wasn't coming with her. Maybe it was just to make her happy, in the moment,

"Just like that, It's that easy?" She asked. "What about Cyn? Why aren't they asking for her?"

Lerner was quiet for a moment. "Did you hear Cyn's name? Because, I didn't. And, I cant have two more officers dead. They're all this place has left, so yes, it's that simple."

Beth grit her teeth now. "Cyn is comin'. My people have things to offer. We won't just leave her here. They won't stand for that."

Dawn opened the door for us, letting us into the hallway.

"Get your stuff from my office, Beth. Cyn can wheel Carol down with you. But that doesn't mean she's coming. It only means I'm willing to discuss the terms."

Beth gave her a curt nod, then grabbed my hand and led us down the hall. When we made it to Dawn's office, we shuffled through the filing cabinets to find Beth's personal belongings. I helped fold it all into a pile, and when I finished, I noticed she'd done the same to my own pants, shirt, and jacket.

"What are you doing that for?" I asked, genuinely curious of her motive.

She smiled, handing my personal belongings over. "You're comin' with me. I don't care what it takes. Get Dressed."

I reached for my bag on the shelf, a clatter of items toppling down with my own. An aid kit, ammo, but no gun. I stuffed the shells in my bag, then opened the kit. Inside layed surgical clipping scissors, stitching twine, and bandages.

"The group must think you're somewhere else. That's all. If they knew you were here, they'd ask for you." Beth said, then pointed to the clippers in my hand. "Would you hand me those?"

I furrowed my brows, giving her the scissors. She stuffed the pair into the soft lining of her arm cast. She really meant it when she said she didn't care what it took to bring me with her. I peeled off my scrubs, slipping back into my denim jeans. I put my grey long sleeve on next, then shrugged my heavy bomber jacket on. I knew I'd get hot in a couple minutes, but I didn't want to leave it behind. I'd been wearing it since that house after the prison fall.

I walked back to the drawer to look for my ring. I went through baggies of others shirts and clothing, but found no trace of the dove. My finger felt oddly bare. I wanted the item back.

"What if it all goes wrong?" I ask, touching the skin on my middle finger.

She finished buttoning her yellow shirt. "We're gonna' be okay. The hard part is over."

I took in her words as I sat on Dawn's chair, taking off my dulling boots to cuff my jeans just right. The action had her smiling as she untied her converse and slipped on her own pair of western boots.

"My daddy raised me on a farm. Found these a while back I thought they looked fitting, you know?" She ran a finger on the brown leather. "I think I like the red better, though."

I remained silent, only giving her a smile in response. The red wasn't vibrant anymore. Mud was coating the tips, the leather scuffed and worn. The sole was still peeling back.

"Dawn told me it was okay to cry, but we don't get to do that anymore. Missing someone like my Daddy, the pain doesn't stop. You just make room for it."

I nodded. "Endure it. That's all we can do anymore, right?"

"Enduring is only half of it." She said. "The other half is accepting everythin'. It's a choice."

A knock sounded at the office door. I flinched, and Beth rushed to open it. The woman; Carol, was in a drowsed state sitting in a wheelchair. A younger woman in scrubs stood behind her, hands placed on the bars uncomfortably. I'd seen her scrubbing floors before.

"They're here for the trade."

I pushed off the chair, then thanked the assistant, and took over with Carol's wheelchair. The stranger went the other direction, and Beth came up alongside me. I used a bit of force to start moving the chair, and Beth brought a careful hand to Carol's head.

"Hi, Carol." Beth gave her a warm smile as we began walking in the direction the woman in scrubs had pointed us down. "How are you feeling?"

Carol blinked softly, struggling to lift her head. When she caught sight on Beth and I, she returned the smile.

"I think I've seen better days." She said, her voice wavering in an unserious manner.

She had just woken, and was already cracking jokes. Beth's ponytail swayed as we continued down the halls, meeting alongside Doctor Edwards to continue for the main entrance, which was only accessible by his keycard. When we came through the doors, I noticed Dawn already posted in the front, officers positioned perfectly around her.

They all awaitedly looked to the door, squinting at the figures appearing on the other side of the slim windows.

Lerner signaled for the officers to drop the weapons, and she put her gun back where it belonged as well, leaning to the radio.

"Holster your weapons."

Behind the door, seconds of movement occurred before the two hostage officers opened the doors, leading the rest behind. I first saw Daryl and Sasha leading the front, Rick, Tyreese - and Noah in the back.

My spine straightened at the sight of them, the others displaying significant reactions when they spotted me behind Carol. Noah's eyes lit, his smile not even attempting to hold itself back. The others looked at me as if I had returned from the grave.

Rick's shock softened along the lines of his face, giving me a nod of recognition before speaking to Dawn. "Your people haven't been harmed."

"Where's Lamson?"

"Rotters got him."

"We saw it go down." The hostages backed his word.

"I'm sorry to hear that. He was one of the good guys." Dawn disclosed. "Now, one of yours for one of mine."

Rick twisted his head. "I'm going to have to change this deal a little." He implied to me.

Dawn turned. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. First, Carol."

I took my hands off her wheelchair, and one of the officers brought her to the opposite side. She was now sitting alongside the rest of our group. Then Beth was called forward, and she gave my shoulder a squeeze before joining Carol.

After this exchange, Rick looked directly to me. "What will it be?"

"You can't have her." Lerner said. "And I need Noah back."

The words twisted my guts, poking and prodding at my insides. I felt like I might vomit all over the floor if this negotiation went on much longer.

"Then you can leave. Noah is my ward. Beth took his place, and now he's getting it back. Lamson was my best medical help—now that he's gone, I need Cyn."

"Neither of them are staying." Daryl called out, throwing his arms out.

"They're mine, you have no claim."

"Do you see their faces? They want to leave. You have no claim."

"Then we don't have a deal." Dawn said, her hand brushing her hip.

Noah interrupted this argument by walking forward. "It's okay, Rick. I gotta' do it.

Silence fell over my group. They looked to me. I gave them a nod, a way of telling them that this is how it had to go.

"It's not okay." Beth mumbled as Noah gave his weapon to Rick. She looked over at me. "None of this is okay."

Rick stepped forward to get a better look at me. "Cyn? This is what you want?"

God dammit. I had no option. I had no choice. There was no scenario where everyone could be happy. The group had survived this long without me. They could keep on keeping on. Noah and I could find some way to escape. Maybe not soon—but someday.

My legs begged to cave in. "Noah and I will be fine. We have a home here."

My voice didn't sound so sure. They instantly saw through my facade.

"It's settled." Dawn said, giving me a nod of appreciation.

As the boy limped to my side, Beth hurried to embrace us both. She looked each of us in the eyes, her own glimmering with tears. The group made movements of unrest, like they wouldn't stand for this. Rick seemed to be calculating his next move.

"It's okay." Noah assured Beth, letting me grab his arm to help support him.

Beth shook her head, and I gave her one last tight hug. I pressed my chin into her shoulder and whispered, "Accepting everything is a choice. You have to accept this. You have to make the others accept it, too."

Lerner put her eyes on Noah. "I knew you'd be back."

This offset Beth. She broke from our side and approached the leader, her fingers comfortably tucked in her sleeves.

"I get it now."

As she turned, she hesitated in the moment, slipping the pair of scissors from her cast, and into her small softened hands. My hands went out to stop the girl from doing something she'd regret, but it was much too late. She had driven it straight into Dawn's vest, causing the woman to panic on impact.

Her gun went off.

At first, It was too sudden to be something of truth. The sound of the shot, the way the girl lost her footing, her head rolling back with the echo. But then the blood came, dampening my own face with the red speckles of what was left.

Everyone went for their guns. Daryl aimed his at Dawn, shooting without hesitation. Her neck bent in such a peculiar manner as she fell backwards onto the ground. I went for Beth as the others ordered for ceasefire. Everyone was still holding their weapons up, and I was on the floor.

Thick crimson was spreading to my knees. Her hair was stained with it, her hands at her sides. The boots she wore, no longer carried her upright. She was resting on the linoleum flooring.

The officers were yelling. I couldn't hear a thing. It was all a a different language as I looked at my friend—my friend with a bullet clean through her forehead. My knees were now soaked. I lost my breath as I grabbed under her armpits and dragged her into my chest. She was so fucking limp. Her head rolled back in protest.

It became dead silent. I couldn't hold back anymore. My breaths became short and uneven, each drag for air more and more difficult. I thought I heard crying behind me, but I couldn't tear myself away from Beth. I just sat in the puddle of red draining from her body, allowing the liquid to dribble onto my own clothes as I held her up.

I sat there and cried into her. The officers cleared out, the doors closing behind them. I didn't move until Daryl gently peeled me off of her. He brought me towards Rick, who said nothing at all. He only pulled me into him, turning my gaze from the tragedy behind.

Once Daryl had lifted Beth into his arms, Rick guided himself and I out the door. Nearly everyone was outside. Gathered, waiting to reunite with Beth and Carol. Their eyes lit when they saw me among the others, instantly faltering when they noticed the tears streaking my face. The blood staining my clothes. The red spattered on my cheek.

The hope in their eyes died.

Instead of stopping here, Rick kept walking. He didn't let me turn back. He led me straight to the deep red fire engine the others had come out of. Even though we were feet away, I could notice, through my watery vision, that Carl was leaned against the side of it. His hands held onto his pistol. His head was dropped, hat covering his eyes completely. When he heard the shuffle of his father and I's steps, his gaze lifted.

When his eyes settled on me, he let out a pronounced breath. The sound was raw, and shaky. He stood up straighter, looking me over with a kind of urgency I'd never seen from him. My steps came to a pause, and Rick ran a hand across my head, placing a small kiss on the top of my hair. I wasn't sure if it was to console me, or to tell me that he was grateful I was okay.

"Get her in the truck." He instructed his son, his hand leaving my shoulder as he turned back around.

I just stood there, looking at Carl. My legs shook, chest heaving. His hands flexed, not quite knowing what to do, before quickly holstering his gun, and. . .taking me into his arms. I tensed at the contact, but I didn't step back. I couldn't. I needed the comfort so badly. He was the only one I wanted it from.

I let out a pained sob, shakily bringing my hands around his neck, pressing my face into his sternum. The deep thumping in his chest was so intense that for a moment, I forgot about the blood soaking my clothes. He was warm and alive.

I finally was holding onto someone that was breathing back at me.

"She's dead." I choked out, clawing at the neck of his shirt. "She's dead. She's dead. I don't know what to do. I tried to stop her but—"

His hands became tighter around me. "I know. I know how bad it hurts."

I let out another struggled sob. Tears were dampening his clothes, but he didn't push me away. He didn't even seem to notice at all.

"I wish it were me." I told him, pulling back so that I could look at him. "I was already dead to everyone. It wouldn't have mattered."

He shook his head, his back hitting the truck. He grabbed the sides of my face and brought his thumbs across my cheek. The action felt completely foreign.

"Don't talk like that. It would have mattered. It did matter. It mattered to me. It wouldn't have hurt any less." He sternly told me.

I struggled for a breath, and his eyes broke from mine. He forcefully pulled open the door, helping me in. Once I was sat, he shut it and took a seat right beside me, purposefully covering the window with his body so that I couldn't look past him.

He must have seen her while we were hugging. He saw enough to know that I shouldn't be looking anymore.

He peeled off my stained jacket, covering me with a fire blanket instead. I could do nothing but stare at the opposing seats, wondering what it would have been like with the four of us — Beth, Noah, Carl and I — to sit amongst each-other and recount all of the stories we'd gathered through the time we'd been apart.

I wanted to smile at the thought, but my body felt paralyzed. I wasn't even sure I was blinking properly. I felt another tear slip over the edge of my waterline.

Carl placed a wet rag against my face, gently rubbing at the red. He scrubbed a little extra hard at my cheekbone before realizing that he'd gotten all the blood already. It was only a bruise. He inspected it closely, pushing my hair over my shoulder to examine the one on my neck.

"Jesus Christ, Cyn." He breathed out, running his finger along the prints under my jaw.

He'd never been touchy. In fact, I couldn't remember a single time where he'd ever reached out at me. Certainly not with this much concern, and tenderness.

I swallowed harshly. "It's okay."

The tone of my voice must have thrown him off, because he looked completely frustrated. "This is not okay. This isn't something that a normal person does to someone. You know that—don't you?"

It's something that I'd grown used to.

"Yes." I responded softly, looking to the ground.

"Who did it?" He asked, fixing the blanket that had slipped down my shoulder.

"It doesn't matter." I spoke, my voice barely past a whisper. "She's dead."

The image came back. Daryl's gun firing off. The ringing in my eardrums as Dawn's head bent back further than I knew possible. The thud as her body hit the ground.

"Good." He responded, without so much as a pause.

And he wholeheartedly meant it.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·6,138 words • 7:40pm

i am not okay after that one.

also, just a quick psa that the hospital side storylines with cyn belong to me! (apart from some dialouge and whatnot!) please refrain from copying, as creating this alternative piece has taken SO MUCH original effort, because I don't have an option to have cyn follow beth around 24/7 as she arrived a bit later. this means I had to develop my own timeline and write cyn alternative situations.

#bringbethgreeneback

(four years later edit: this chapter was like 2,000 words less and I NEVER WROTE CARL AND CYN REUNITING which was an absolute crime. i should have been locked AWAY for that one. if ur reading this new version consider yourself lucky because all my og readers who probably don't have this app on their phone anymore had to suffer through NO CANNON REUNION. CRIMINAL. The next chapter just started and had no mention of them speaking to one another 🥲🥲)

sincerely yours,𝓜 ᥫ᭡.