Law lay awake, covered only from the waist down by the dusty, dingy comforter of a most likely long-dead stranger's bed, staring out the window of the little bedroom absently. It was still dark, but he could see the first vestiges of the light of the sun beginning to make its way across the sky. They would be on their way soon, he thought, giving no more than a glance at the sleeping woman beside him. Other than that one look, he did little else to acknowledge she was even there.
He felt…frustrated, to say the least. He'd caved in to his urges, and damn him, nothing had changed in the slightest. That tension he could feel on his shoulders hadn't loosened, hadn't gone away, and now added onto it was the worry that this would only make things complicated in the long run. Definitely not his smartest decision. What had he been thinking? Well, he knew exactly what he'd been thinking, actually, that he hadn't had sex in ages, and that maybe Margaret would be a viable option of getting rid of some of this stress.
Guess that plan was a bust, closing his eyes in annoyance when she let out a particularly loud and nasally snore, shifting on the bed to get in a more comfortable position beside him. At least she hadn't woken up yet, because he wasn't really in the mood to talk to her or see that relief or anger or happiness or whatever he'd see in her eyes. Law was never fond of the morning after routine, and this was no exception.
She was equally as naked as him, covered only from her hips down, but he felt no inclination to appreciate the view. She really wasn't his type. She was a bit older than him, not that her age was the only deciding factor in that, but she just…didn't appeal to him very much. Her personality and his weren't…compatible? That was the best word for it. He felt nothing towards her whatsoever, at least, nothing blatantly positive. Maybe in another life, another circumstance it would have been different, but there was no spark, no interest between them. At least from his perspective. Whether she saw something between them or not was her own fault and her own problem. Law wouldn't be blamed for instigating what had happened. Hell, she'd been the one to come onto him in the first place.
Margaret shifted beside him again, turning onto her back and draping an arm over his covered leg. The position exposed her bare chest to the room, and he noted the numerous hickies that littered her torso. Her hair was a complete bird's nest, scratches on her arms and shoulders where he'd been more than gentle. The sight of his doing gave him no pride nor satisfaction.
Feeling her unconsciously move closer to him in the bed, seeking his warmth or some other comfort, Law shifted his leg slowly out of the way, being sure not to wake her as he stood from the bed. Shivering slightly as the cold morning air hit his newly exposed skin, he walked to the other end of the room where most of his clothing had ended up tossed in a corner, stooping to pick up his pants and boxers.
Law dressed quickly, glancing over his shoulder every once in awhile to see if Margaret had awakened. For all the world knew, she was dead from how deeply she'd fallen asleep. Not that he blamed her. Three rounds was enough to sate most women, especially as rough as it ended up being during the previous night, and the exertion had done exactly what she wanted: made her forget why they'd come all the way out there to begin with.
Fastening his belt around his waist and tying his shoes, Law straightened and searched for his pack. There was still a half-box of dry pasta that he hadn't eaten for dinner the night before, and so he withdrew it as he exited the bedroom, making his way to the living room downstairs.
A quick glance out the front window confirmed that zombies still wandered the streets. At least they hadn't tried getting into the house last night. With all the noise they were making he could have sworn it would gain at least a few of their attentions. However, there was no damage to the barricades reinforcing the doors or windows from what Law could see. Satisfied that they weren't in any immediate danger, he set himself on the couch and opened the box of food. The shells crunched loudly as he ate, long ago having gone stale. They had no taste whatsoever, but at least it was something edible. Better than cans of dog or cat food like he'd had to resort to in the past.
In this time of silence and peace, Law found his mind wandering yet again, as it often did when he was left to himself. Out of everything he was thinking, one thought stood out most. He never should have come out here in the first place. Damn Margaret and her insistence on saving everyone she came across, damn the world for ending in the first place, but damn him most of all for giving in to his urges, letting his judgement be clouded by hormones and needs for one unsatisfying night of 'fun.'
Not for the first time, he lamented that Margaret was not someone else. Not, he mused with a frown, a brunette he couldn't help but think about. Growling in frustration and something a bit more desperate, Law tried blocking that woman from his mind, but nothing would work. He'd never been skilled at lying to himself, never, and he couldn't do so now for as much as he wanted to.
Why was it that she stuck out so much in his mind? What was it about her that made her so memorable? Hmm, the longer he thought about it, the more the answer became clear. Lexi, as unlikely and improbable as it was, was one of the few constants Law had come to appreciate in this post-apocalyptic hell the world had become. It was a strange sort of comfort to know that someone else was surviving just as him and Shachi and Penguin were. Someone actually worth the effort it took to survive, unlike some of the people he'd come to encounter. Her spirit was something rare nowadays, and the will to retain her humanity.
Humanity…Law wondered if perhaps he'd begun to lose some of his. As leader of their little group, there had been times when they could have taken a more humane option than the one they ultimately did. Not one of those examples did Law regret, and that was what set Lexi and him apart. Yet for as different as they were, Law couldn't help but think that they were alike in more ways than one. She certainly did not lack the will to live, and the will to keep those she cared for safe, not to mention her sense of honor was strong, something Law greatly respected.
Their seemingly-impossible meetings, time and time again, had perplexed him beyond belief, but had somehow come to be a sort of routine, something Law could look forward to at some point in the future.
And he truly did look forward to seeing her again, granted she was still ok…It had been an unusually long time since he'd seen her last, and Law couldn't deny that it worried him a minor degree. Even if she didn't travel with them, even if she wasn't a part of their group, he felt Lexi had earned his concern and support at the very least. Of course, bringing up the topic with Shachi and Penguin would only instigate another round of teasing at his expense, so he kept silent. But it didn't stop him from worrying all the same.
Munching absently on his pasta while deep in thought, Law almost missed the sound of Margaret opening the bedroom door upstairs, indicating she'd finally woken up. Blinking rapidly to clear his eyes of the glaze that settled over them, he glanced up at the sky outside, realizing he'd been sitting there for a lot longer than he'd thought. It was much brighter out than before, the sun not quite over the horizon, but it was only a matter of time before the sun's rays began to spill through into the house.
Sighing quietly with the realization that he'd have to face the black-haired woman at some point, Law grabbed the last handful of pasta he was willing to partake of at that moment, closing the box and setting it beside his pack on the floor. Without looking up to watch her descend the stairs, Law heard her give out a drawn-out yawn, followed by a groan of drowsiness.
"Morning." She mumbled, finally reaching the last step and turning to enter the living room. Hair still a mess like before, she'd redressed in her clothing from yesterday, albeit her ensemble looked a lot more disheveled, as if she hadn't bothered straightening it out to look more presentable. She carried her boots in her hands, the only thing covering her feet a worn pair of socks.
Just as he predicted, she gave him that sweet relief-filled smile, as if their relationship had somehow changed in the span of the last 12 hours, or like she knew something intimate about him that others did not. Hmph. So, it seemed her expectations of what came next were much higher than his own. That wasn't his problem. Despite what had transpired in their moment of collective weakness, he would not treat her any differently than how he had up to this point, and if she thought otherwise, that was her own naivety.
And so he glanced up at her entrance, nodding only minutely in response, before returning to stare out the window. Nothing more than that.
Even when Law directed his attention somewhere else, he could practically feel the good mood fade away as her smile did, perhaps realizing that nothing, in fact, had changed in the slightest, or that Law had already moved on, never to look back. Either way, she stepped past Law and sat on the couch, proceeding to put on her shoes.
They did not speak. And it was only when Margaret finished tying her shoes did she look up to him and try smiling that smile once more.
"I, uh…wanted to thank you." She started, but Law shook his head with a sigh.
"It's my responsibility as a doctor to try to save those who need help, medically. Even if the world has ended, I did take an oath to uphold those values." Standing, Law grabbed the box of pasta and went to put it back in his bag.
"That's not…" Margaret started again, hesitating as if she couldn't get the words out. "I mean, I do appreciate you…helping Zach and all…but I meant to thank you for…um…afterwards." Her voice took on an amused and slightly delighted tone, and he knew she was smiling yet again.
"I gathered as much, but frankly…I don't really need nor want the sentiment." He said, not bothering to turn around to face her. If there was one thing he hated about women, it was their incessant need to talk about everything. Shuffling through his stuff to make sure everything was there, he zipped it and stood once more, swinging it to sit on his shoulders.
"Excuse me?" Came her disbelieving question, like she hadn't heard him properly the first time around. He turned to glance at her over his shoulder, a brow raised, but he said nothing. Her own brows were raised high in surprise and she looked rather offended.
"Are you just going to act like nothing happened between us?" Came her incredulous scoff, and Law rolled his eyes. "You're just going to…move on like that meant nothing?"
"That's exactly what I'm going to do. Because it Didn't. Mean. Anything. I suggest you do the same." He explained without so much as a shift in his voice. If one didn't know better, he could have been commenting on the weather, or something else just as trivial.
"Then…what the hell was all of that? I thought there might have been…more."
"Then you thought wrong. You said it yourself, you're not looking for a long term thing, and I couldn't give it to you anyways. It works out."
She scratched her head in frustration. "Well…I'll admit, I did make it sound that way…but if there's any chance for something more serious to develop…" She trailed off, not quite saying what it was she wanted, but inferring just enough to where he'd get the meaning. He rubbed at his temples in frustration, already tired of talking about this.
"Let me put this plainly, Margaret." He started, as if he were talking to a ten year old. "Whatever feelings you may have, I suggest you quickly forget, because I have no interest in any sort of relationship with you. Nor do I intend to have a repeat of last night."
Margaret opened her mouth as if to say something but nothing came out. The shock must have overtook anything she might have said, if she could actually find the words for it, but Law didn't much care for any of it. Shrugging again, figuratively putting the whole thing behind him, he readjusted the pack on his shoulders and made his way towards the front door.
"We should get going soon if we want to make it back before dark."
Law heard her approach, then watched as she sidestepped past to stand in front of him. It took only a split second for her to raise her hand and aim towards his face, but Law's reflexes were just as quick and he was able to stop her from the slap that almost happened. He used the momentum to shove her face-first into the nearest wall, pulling an 'oof' of lost breath from the woman.
"You're a bastard." She breathed out between catching her breath and struggling to get him off of her.
He pressed her harshly into the wood wall, leaning in so his mouth was right next to her ear. "I told you before, I can't give you what it is you want. Did you think I would change my mind afterwards? That I'd be swayed by your wiles and tricks?" He questioned in a whisper, intentionally trailing his hot breath down the shell of her ear. He could feel the involuntary shiver run down her back, and it delighted him.
"How could something like that just mean nothing?" She grunted, frustrated that she still couldn't break free of his grip, but Law's strength was great and his resolve to get this concept through her head even greater. The words came out as no more than a low growl.
"You wanted to forget and I felt pity. I wanted to get rid of some stress and you offered. Goal completed, end of story. Move the fuck on, because I sure as hell already have." And with that he roughly released her from the wall, stepping away and ignoring her for the most part as he opened the front door, pulling his sword from it's sheath in preparation to kill the few zombies that were closest. He didn't bother checking if she were following. If she was smart, she'd realize that Law would legitimately leave her behind if she didn't get a move on. But that wasn't the first thing on his mind at that moment.
Killing things might help his mood a bit, and so he did.
Damien examined the dirt directly in front of him, ignoring the light shower of rain that covered him and his troop of men. The footprint was barely distinguishable against the rest of the landscape, but for a skilled tracker like him, it wasn't anything he hadn't seen before. The impression was rather distinct for what a footprint should be, albeit only slightly, seeing as the wet ground had been soft enough to sink deeper into the earth, leaving the fairly obvious impression of a woman's foot if you were looking hard enough.
Exhaling on his cigarette, he stood from kneeling to inspect the print. "Yup, looks like her alright. Can't really tell how far she's gotten, but with that injury, it won't be too far."
"Chase got a pretty good shot on her yesterday, probably slowed her down quite a bit." Weston added, watching his leader and somewhat mentor survey the area around them. At the boy's words, Damien nodded his agreement but still sighed.
"She's definitely not running any marathons with that hit, but if he'd been aiming at a better target, maybe we wouldn't still be chasing her right now." He pointedly turned to Chase specifically, raising a brow in slight annoyance. The man frowned.
"What?" He defended with a shrug, rifle still in hand. "You want her alive, right? I did the best I could without killing her."
"Yeah, yeah, save the excuses." Damien waved off his defense, heading off towards the direction the footprint was going. The other men began to follow close behind, with Weston, the youngest, leading right beside him. "Either way, if she was smart, she would have travelled while we stayed and made camp last night. I have a feeling she's a lot further ahead than we expect even with that wound."
"She can't be that smart, right?" Weston questioned with a shake of his head. "If she was, she wouldn't have ended up with us in the first place, after all." He turned to their leader in curiosity, pleased to see that smirk of pride on the older man's face, directed straight at him.
With a chuckle, Damien laid a hand on the boy's shoulder with a chuckle. "They may be inferior, but they're crafty and cunning. Don't underestimate them, boy. That's how they get you. That's how you end up dead. Don't ever forget that."
"R-right, sorry."
Damien held his gaze for a moment more so he'd understand, then continued heading off. "Take care to remember that, then. Alright, move out! I want her found, so we can go back home already."
Needless to say, the rest of the trip home wasn't filled with friendly chit chat. Law mostly ignored the black-haired woman who walked slightly behind him, only following where her occasional directions guided him. Hell, Law didn't even look at her for the rest of the time. He didn't really care if she were in a foul mood because of him, or if he'd caused her to lose all trust in him, it was her own damn fault for expecting more than he could give, especially when he'd specifically told her it wouldn't work out. Women…
In fact, he quite liked the silence as they trekked home, giving him plenty of free time to pretend like she wasn't even there, if he ignored her footsteps for long enough. Yes, he quite liked this arrangement. Law tried enjoying the peace and quiet while it lasted, for he knew as soon as he got back to the camp, Tara's incessant questions would begin again.
The thought that Margaret may want to kick him out of the camp after this did cross his mind, but if she were smart, like he begrudgingly knew she was, then she wouldn't lose the asset of a skilled doctor just because of her pride and ego. Law felt confident he was in no danger of being exiled, and Penguin and Shachi were useful enough to not be affected too much by his actions. She wouldn't get rid of them either.
Hours passed by, until the sun was beginning its downward descent towards the opposite horizon behind them, casting long shadows along the dirt in front of them. They couldn't be too much farther from the camp. In fact, he assumed they were fairly close by at this point, because Margaret passed him to the right and walked on ahead of him for the first time that day, no doubt wanting to get back to the camp and forget this experience ever happened.
Law was fine with that too.
Another five minutes or so went by with just the two of them walking, before the camp came back into sight up ahead. Margaret walked a little faster, pulling ahead of him foot by foot, but he didn't even try to keep up with her. But his attention was quickly turned away from the leader of their group to the guards guarding the camp perimeter from the roof of the trailers, all but one of whom were curiously missing from their posts.
He frowned, stopping in his tracks. That worm of suspicion quickly grew, but he stifled it. Better to know there was a problem before making all these assumptions. Margaret must have heard, because she glanced back at him to see what the problem was. "What?" She barked out for the first time, clearly still angry with him.
"Something's different." He stated bluntly without explaining much, eyes still searching the tops of the campers for any more of the guardsmen. Only the lone man walked along the roof. However, he could still hear the usual noise coming from the camp, so perhaps it was all in his imagination.
"What's different?" Margaret tried coaxing again, this time not quite as harshly as she noticed the clearly serious concern in his expression. Her own eyes looked to where he was looking, finally noticing the missing piece, rather, the missing people that normally never left the perimeter unattended. There were never any less than three people guarding the camp.
The both of them hurried a bit faster to get to the gate, Margaret knocking on the metal plating to have them open up. It took a moment, before Marve peeked through a crack in the reinforcement to see who was there. "Thought you'd be back sooner." He huffed, swinging the gate open for them to go inside.
"We were…held up." She spoke vaguely, shaking her head to rid herself of Law in her head. "What's going on? Where are the rest of the guards?"
"Watching the survivor the scavengers found on their way back to camp." He stuck a thumb towards the infirmary trailer with a shrug. "Said she was half-dead, lying on the ground in the middle of the woods. Don't know where she came from, but she looks to be shot."
"Shot? Was there anyone else in the area?"
Marve shrugged again, closing the gate behind them securely. "Don't really know. Might want to ask the scavenging team." He reluctantly turned his gaze to the doctor. "May wanna go check on her if I were you. From what I saw when they brought her in here, there was a lot of blood."
Law narrowed his eyes. This day was just getting stranger and stranger. With a tired shake of his head, he headed over to the infirmary without a word to Margaret, knowing that she'd follow him one way or another.
Those hanging around the camp murmured to themselves, most likely about whoever this survivor was who'd been brought in by the scavenging team. There wasn't much to gossip about nowadays, and so an injured person showing up out of nowhere was the perfect seed for drama to grow from. It was all anyone was apparently willing to talk about now.
Opening the infirmary door in a rush, he must have startled Tara, who was leaning over the woman on the bed, holding a blood-covered towel and a small sponge. She cried as she turned around, eyes wide with fear for a moment, before seeing that it was only Law. "Jesus, you scared me!"
"How long ago was she brought in?" Law asked, walking past her and into the medication storage. A almost-empty box of latex gloves were sitting on the shelf, and he put them on quickly. Tara seemed to recover from her momentary fright, thankfully, and resumed cleaning the blood from her wound.
"An half an hour or so. She hasn't woken up yet, but her wound is still bleeding. I've tried to stop the flow with bandages, but it keeps soaking through."
"Then it needs to be stitched." Law concluded, reappearing in the main infirmary area with Tara. "Have you disinfected and sterilized-" He stopped short, laying eyes on their mystery patient for the first time since arriving, having been too busy preparing himself for surgery of some kind to notice until now. His brows rose high, inspecting the gaunt face, sickeningly pale skin, bruised body, bleeding gunshot wound on her right torso. But none of that really registered in his mind other than…
Lexi? He thought to himself, recognizing the brown ponytail with ease. The bikini top and bottom left little to the imagination and was a complete 180 of what he was used to seeing her wear. This may have given him pause in any other instance besides that one, because his eyes quickly locked on the thick, gold-painted metal chain that wrapped around her neck, a chain of links trailing from a knob on the side. It dangled down several feet to the floor, pooling and coiling in a pile. In his daze, Tara snapped her fingers worriedly.
"Uh, Law? What's wrong?"
"Nothing…" With narrowed eyes he shook his head to get rid of the shock. He'd think about what was happening later. Right now there were more serious things to attend to. "If you haven't sterilized the wound already, do so now. Is there an exit wound on her back anywhere?" Came his next question, mind shifting back into doctor mode so he could focus and work on healing her.
"No, this is the only one I could find…I think…" Tara answered indecisively. He closed his eyes, not for the first time wishing he had a skilled medical assistant instead of the redhead, but there was nothing to do about that now. Hearing the door to the infirmary open a moment after, there was no surprise to see Margaret walking through the door.
"How bad is she?" The woman asked, eyeing Lexi's unconscious form as she lay on the bed, surrounded by the two doctors.
"Unconscious and losing blood quickly unless I close the wound." He answered mechanically, not bothering to even glance in her direction. His hands felt along Lexi's back for any exit point of the gunshot, but found none. So, the bullet was still in there.
"I'll have to dig the bullet out." He informed Tara, gesturing to the pair of medical pliers they thankfully had available. She hesitantly gave them over after sterilizing them as best she could, looking a little squeamish at the thought of digging around her body for a piece of bullet.
Feeling Margaret's eyes once more on him, he sighed to himself. "Leave, Margaret." He told her seriously. "I don't need the distraction."
Margaret opened her mouth to speak, but Law had already turned back to Lexi and began searching for the bullet in her torso, the squelch of blood as he did so echoing in the trailer. Instead of the argument he thought was coming, Margaret only left the trailer without a word, leaving him and Tara alone with Lexi.
"Find the needle and threat. Once I find the bullet, we should be able to close up the wound." He instructed Tara, blocking out everything except his responsibility to save her if he could.
ns 18.68.41.180da2
