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Survival Isn't An Option	By : Pilgrim Category: S through Z > The Walking Dead Views: 6774 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead or any of the characters from the series. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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*AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you for the review Deranged Furia :) I'm glad you enjoyed the story so far and I hope you continue to! Your observation about Isabelle's tunnel vision and the lack of other character involvement is accurate and deliberate, it will be addressed when the time is right :D

          Slowly Isabelle’s eyes flicked open, a clinical light over her head. Had she fallen in training? Her head was swirling with the drugs in her system, she couldn’t remember being booked into surgery but the sensation was all too familiar. She let her eyelids slide closed once more and tried not to groan at the lights banging in the darkness. Fingers pressed into her wrist, taking her pulse and she glared down at the man in the white coat. He didn’t look like a private hospital doctor and as her eyes became accustomed to the light she realised the room was hardly in the condition she expected of the hospitals that treated the ballet company. Even in India they had been in the state of the art centres. She moved to brush his hand away before encountering the restraints on her wrists.
          Instantly she panicked, sitting bolt upright and fighting against the binds. Someone was shouting for her to calm down, warning her there would be trouble. Memories flooded back, the apocalypse, the horrors, the group… Daryl, the car crash. Eventually the plastic restraint on her right wrist snapped and she struggled to get off the gurney only to realise her ankles were also strapped down. Her hand fled for her dagger but it wasn’t there, she wasn’t even in her clothing. The loose gown that all after operations patients wore was draped loosely over her frame, she could feel the ties where they had dug into her back. There was also a stain growing at her waist and slowly she realised her heart was going too fast. She was going to black out, on instinct she led back down, blinking rapidly as if that would clear the growing darkness. A hand pressed into her arm and the bite of a needle ripped into her veins.
“Quick, we need to prep for surgery, she’s pulled all the stitches loose,” the doctor was shouting as more people poured into the room. “Hurry, she’s going to bleed out,” Darkness fell, she couldn’t hear the words they spoke anymore.
          The second time she came to there were more restraints on her body, she could feel the pressure of a strait jacket holding her arms and a band across her chest to stop her from sitting up. Isabelle glared down the length of her body, there was someone sat at her feet. Her throat was dry and she coughed before the words could escape.
“You’re awake, keep quiet,” A soft familiar voice whispered from the end of the bed. “Here,” Isabelle drank greedily from the offered cup, water running down her chin and pooling under her neck in her haste.
“Thank you,” She whispered, letting her head fall back.
“Where’s the group?” The voice whispered again and Isabelle scowled before turning to glare at the girl.
“Beth?” Isabelle gasped, struggled to sit, felt the pull of stitches and moaned back into stillness.
“Don’t move, they had to do some internal surgery. You’ve already ripped everything once,” Beth whispered, pulling a stool up.
“They can’t be far away, why are you still here? Daryl’s besides himself with guilt,” Isabelle chided gently, scowling in confusion.
“We can’t leave until we pay back some form of debt to them,” Beth brushed a strand of hair from her face and Isabelle saw the worry and concern in her features all too clearly.
“Debt?” Isabelle hissed, curious and frustrated.
“Yeah, any treatment incurs a cost that we have to pay back by working,” Beth muttered, glancing up at the sound of a noise.
“How Dickensian,” Isabelle muttered. “Can you untie me?”
“I’ll get the Doctor,” Beth squeezed her shoulder gently and left the room.
          In the silence Isabelle stared at the ceiling. She needed to get back to the group, and to take Beth with her. Daryl would be made up that she was safe and well. Whatever this debt was they’d pay it and leave. The man in the white coat appeared again, looking dubious as Beth pleaded with him.
“I can’t untie you without the Lieutenant’s permission, she’s deemed you too dangerous,” The doctor informed her calmly. “The only reason you’re still alive is because we’re not sure if you’re pregnant or not and we can’t kill someone who is.”
“Pregnant? I can’t get pregnant,” Isabelle snapped. “Untie me, now. Whatever this debt is I’m going to sort it out right now.”
“There are internal signs, either from the car crash or pregnancy. Your womb is larger than it should be,” the doctor explained with a mild stutter.
“It’s from the car accident, I hit the steering wheel hard and several times. Now… let me talk to this Lieutenant or whatever she’s called. I’m not staying a moment longer and Beth’s coming with me,” Isabelle wriggled against the restraints.
“If you’re not, she’ll kill you instantly. It took a lot to restore you to reasonable health, your hand had to be set and your internal injuries were extensive. We used a lot of blood,” the doctor continued.
“Then I’ll happily donate blood in payment, and then we’re leaving,” her anxiety was rising uncomfortably.
“You need to calm down, high blood pressure could cause problems internally,” the doctor pleaded.
“Then untie me because I’m about to have a panic attack at being restrained in the middle of a bloody apocalypse,” Isabelle screamed, throwing her head back against the gurney once more.
          Finally, the man unfastened the restraints and she struggled to sit up, Beth holding her shoulders and supporting her as she pressed a hand to her stomach. She felt like she’d been butchered from the inside out. Despite her best intentions she slumped back to lie on the bed and panted at the exertion. “I told you we should have just sedated her again,” the doctor whispered to Beth.
“Again? How long have I been out?” Isabelle hissed.
“Almost a week, whenever you came around you got aggressive,” the doctor informed her calmly.
“Ok, I’m not going to be aggressive this time,” Isabelle whispered, ignoring the wave of nausea at the pain. “Any pain killers by chance?”
“No, we’ve almost used up all of our sedative as well keeping you under,” he was wringing his hands. “I can put you under again until you’ve healed more if you want, the pain’s only going to get worse.”
“I think I’ve spent enough time unconscious to last me a lifetime thank you,” Isabelle snapped. “What’s your name?”
“Stephen, Doctor Stephen Edwards,” he whispered, glancing anxiously towards the door.
“Lovely,” Isabelle sat up, ignoring the twinges. “How do we escape?”
“You don’t,” He retorted sharply. “Why would you want to go back out there? It’s safer here, we can feed you, keep you safe.”
“Yeah, sure, safe…” Isabelle muttered, she squeezed Beth’s hand seeing the start of tears. “We’ll get out, they’ll come for us or we’ll find a way out.”
“Careful how loud you speak, these walls have ears,” Beth whispered in response.
“So do doctors yet you trusted him, and I’m guessing doctors have a higher privilege than anyone else,” Isabelle smiled at him sweetly. “Which means you can help us to leave.”
“It’s not that simple,” Beth glanced worriedly at the door. “I already tried, Noah escaped but they caught me and… Carol’s here. She’s unconscious.”
“Carol?” Isabelle felt the flight of a small amount of hope until her brain acknowledged the unconscious part. If there was anyone she trusted in this world to get out of a sticky situation it was the older woman. “Unconscious, that’s a problem,” she whispered.
“You can’t leave, what if you bleed out again?” Beth muttered.
“After a week it’s unlikely, they should be fairly well healed but you have to be careful and gentle,” Stephen responded, glancing between them.
“You could come too,” Beth whispered to him, causing Isabelle to glance between them curiously with a raised eyebrow. “Doctors are always of use,” Beth shrugged at her expression.
“Oh, oh no, I’m better here, this is where I belong,” Stephen responded smoothly.
“Fair enough, how do we get Carol out of here?” Isabelle interjected quickly.
“You’ll have to try and get her out of the coma first, really you need to rest at least another week,” Stephen wrung his hands.
“Fine, I’ll rest and we’ll wait for Carol to wake up,” Isabelle muttered before seeing the concern cross Beth’s face. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, doesn’t matter,” She whispered in response with a poorly executed smile of comfort. “You won’t be able to leave this room, Dawn won’t allow it until you’re fully healed and can start paying back your debt. I’ll come and visit as much as I can,” Beth squeezed her fingers and left the room quickly.
          Isabelle watched her go as the doctor settled to checking her over. She let him take her pulse and temperature. Gentle fingers probed over the still red scar down her stomach, it was neat and would heal well but it would still be there. A permanent reminder of her time here. He pressed against the places where she assumed the internal injuries lay and answered any questions he posed before he nodded, satisfied at his inspection. “Why is she afraid?” Isabelle asked as he settled the stethoscope back around his neck.
“Some of the guards have expressed interest,” Stephen responded as he wrote down his notes on a clipboard.
“Interest?” Isabelle probed.
“Some of them like to engage with the female staff here and trade favours,” Stephen blushed and snapped the clipboard onto the side of some machinery.
“Favours? Is that what they’re calling it now?” Isabelle whispered, knowing exactly what he was getting at. “Is she safe?”
“As she can be,” Stephen nodded as he left the room, she heard the turn of a key and settled back onto the bed.
          There were no windows in her cell, no way to tell the time except for the clock that proclaimed it was perpetually ten past one. The batteries had long since died in it. Only Beth or Stephen were allowed to enter her room, orders of Dawn who had deemed they were the only ones safe from her wrath. She probably hadn’t helped her case by throwing a needle at the woman the one time she had entered. It was still embedded into the door and the room had since been cleared of everything but the bed. Sleeping, eating and pacing were her only activities. She’d tried to practice some of Michonne’s exercises but the stitches still forbade too much movement. Every time Beth entered she looked more worn, wearier and more afraid.
“Here, I think it’s chicken,” Beth placed the sandwich on the bed and dropped down to sit on it, her own sandwich in her hands.
          Isabelle stepped up to the bed and sat facing her, folding her legs carefully beneath her. She watched as the other girl slowly chewed, apparently unaware of her watching. Slowly she glanced across at her and Isabelle brushed her hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear as Beth had done for her so many days ago. There was a haunting there that shouldn’t be in the eyes of anyone, never mind a teenager. Instinctively Isabelle wrapped her arms about her and pulled her into a bear hug. She pressed a kiss to her forehead and smiled as Beth slowly returned the hug.
“We’ll get out of here, together. Daryl wouldn’t give up on you, neither would Rick or your sister or Glenn,” Isabelle held her face, watching the tears fall. “Stop, you can do this,” Isabelle hugged her again.
“No, you don’t know what it’s like,” Beth whispered against her. “The way they look at you, the way they touch you.”
“Ignore it, push it aside or pretend it’s someone you want to touch you,” Isabelle whispered to her ear. “I swear we’ll get revenge for every last fingertip. Just stay safe, as much as you can. Soon as I can get out of this room we’ll find a way.”
“I can’t wait that long,” Beth gripped Isabelle’s operation gown tightly.
          Without warning the room door slammed open, Stephen barged in and pressed his back against it. The two women stared at him gobsmacked as he held out two bags of clothes. “They’re coming for you, your group. They caught some of the guards and are enacting a trade.” Isabelle grinned, kissing Beth’s forehead again as they both rushed for their bags of clothes.
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Survival Isn't An Option