Amnesia

Amelia- may's story isn't all that different from anyone else's. The word went to shit, and the dead don't want to die. She has lost people and so has everyone else. Who she was before isn't who she now but here is one difference between Amelia may and every other survivor she as come across. She does't know who she was.. and who she is? Well, she is still trying to figure that out. During the mayhem of the beginning of the apocalypse, a fateful smack on the head stole her memory. All she has ever known is the world she is living in now but that doesn't means she's adept to surviving it, Eventually she ends up on deaths door until a man on a motorcycle chooses to save her life. Amelia- may has to decide if who she was is worth fighting for or if she'll fight that comes with what's forgotten and strive for something better with the one man who can see past it all.

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3. What the hell was that for?

She was feisty. That was one word he kept coming back to. Full of a sarcasm and wit that made him involuntarily want to smile but she was dangerous. No one without some serious training could do what she'd done on that road, It wasn't like he was an expert.. far from it but he also wasn't stupid enough to think it had just been luck, slicing two men up in such a clean obvious way. Yeah, they probably deserved it but the bottom line was that she was dangerous. Dangerous could be good or very bad. 

 

" Two men on her own?" Rick had asked as Denise hastily began to work on the unconscious woman's wound. Michonne had kicked both men out into  the hallway. Daryl ran a hand through his wet hair, nodding slightly. 

' Yeah, man. It was like they'd been assassinated. You shoulda seen it. Throats cut clean. They didn't stand a chance.' He said, letting his hand fall back to his side before crossing his arms over his chest. Rick paced back and forth, glancing at Daryl. ' I know what yer thinking. But I couldn't jus leave her there. The whole point of me and Aaron recruiting is ta find people, Right?  Well... I found someone.'

 

" I get that, I do.' Rick turned to face Daryl more fully. " But we don't know  anything about her. We don't know what happened on that road or what her circumstances are. And if she's really that skilled at killin....She could be dangerous.' 

 

" So what're you sayin? we just throw her out and let her fend for herself? You didn't feel her.. she's skin and bones. She's never gonna survive, not like that. And not with a wound that bad.' Daryl growled out, finding himself lobbying for a woman he didn't even know. Rick sighed.

' That's not what I meant. Just... let's get her patched up, find out what her deal is and we'll go from there, alright?'

 

Daryl had quietly agreed. Hours later she'd woken up, sassy and cranky and with answers he wasn't sure Rick liked much. Five men wasn't all that unusual. The world was shit and it made shitty people but the fact that she wasn't sure if she killed two of them or not? That was just... odd. Daryl remembered every person he killed, good or bad. It's not something anyone in their right mind forgot. 

Her answers only begged more questions, all of which Denise wouldn't let them get answers to just yet. Hours went in the quiet room. Denise came back every now and then to check on her new patient. And Amelia, a pretty name he had to admit.. was sleeping fitfully. She had a fever, and Denise had given her a shot of antibiotics. Which meant it had to be pretty bad, considering the meds were harshly rationed. It wasn't til around one in the morning that he scooted his chair closer to her bedside. He wanted to get a better look at her, now that she wasn't wet with rain. 

She was...beautiful. Despite the obvious malnutrition she was strong. Her skin was pale.. the only scars he could see were on her arms, like she'd been cut and burnt on each one. Though obviously a long time ago. She was wearing a fresh cotton shirt and a pair of scrub pants that Michonne and Denise had put on her. He remembered how light she had felt, despite her height and strength. And seeing her laying there like that, she looked almost frail. Like he could snap her half without trying. No..... no, he couldn't let her leave. She'd never make it. 

 

It was with that definitive thought she cried out. At first he thought she woken up in pain, but it took only the breath of a moment for him to realize she was dreaming. And it wasn't a pleasant dream, either. Her hands gripped the sheets for dear life, her knuckles bleeding white with the effort. Her back arched and she yelled out a fevered and ragged, " NO!" He bolted up out of his chair , putting a hand on her shoulder, his other on her hip. 

 

" Hey, wake up! Yer safe!" He argued her, attempting to hold her down so she wouldn't hurt herself or tear her stitches. Damn, was she tougher than she looked. Her eyes suddenly flew open and before either them knew what happened, her free arm came up and her fist connected with his jaw with a loud thwack, causing him to stumble backwards and her to fall off of the bed, landing on the floor.

e rubbed his jaw instantly, glaring at her. " What the hell was that for?!" He demanded, moving back to her and crouching down. She was just laying there on her stomach, breathing heavily. 

" Ouch." She muttered , then turned her head to look at him as she felt his hands grab hold of her. She let him help her sit up. There as dazed and softly confused look on her face, but she glanced around and seemed to remember where she was. " Um..." She met his eyes. " Why am I on the floor?"  

 

He frowned deeply at her, then put both hands under her arms and hoisted her easily back to her feet, making her sit down on the bed. " Cause ya hit me, that's why." He grumped at her, reaching around her to lift up the back of her shirt to check her bandage.

" Hey!" She swatted at him from where she sat, attempting to push him away. " What the hell are you doing?!" He paused and looked at her , face to face, barely a few inches away. For a moment , he didn't say anything. That close to her, staring into those incredibly dark eyes of hers, he swore he felt his heart skip a beat or two.. or ten. Then he cleared his throat a little, to snap himself out of the ,momentary hypnosis. 

 

" Hold still. I'm checking yer stitches.. Damn." He said, then shook his head and reached around her again. This time she just sat there stunned into silence, somehow. He gently lifted the edge of the bandage, peeling it back to look at the wound. Denise had done a really great job at sewing it up. Luckily, Amelia's little tumble off the bed hadn't damaged anything. He softly pressed the bandage back in place and let her shirt fall before taking a step back.

 

" Why'd I hit you?" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest and furrowing her bows, a fine line of her lips set in a frown. " What were you doing?" She demanded.

 

" What was I..." he started, then glared at her, " I was trying to wake your crazy ass up. that's what." He motioned to the bed, pointing at he pillow. " Now lay down." She just stared at him, and slowly shook her head.

" No. Why were you trying to wake me up?" She asked, still sitting there. " Thought I was supposed to be resting." She added a bit sarcastically. Oh, this woman. He could tell she was going to be a real pain in the ass. He fought the urge to bare his teeth at her.

 

" Cause you were havin a nightmare, okay? Shit woman, lay the hell down." He ordered, reaching over and grabbing her shoulders to force her back onto the bed. She surprisingly didn't fight him. Just flopped back with a little wince, arms still crossed over her chest pouting. He pulled the thin blanket back up over with a sigh and sat back in the chair with a plop , the old chair creaking slightly beneath his weight.

 

" My name's Amelia, not woman. She once he settled , looking over at him before letting her hands relax at her sides. He looked back at her, quietly studying her face which has lost it's stern look. Then he nodded.

" Gotta last name?" He asked, his tone considerably softer than before. She blinked at him, then shrugged one shoulder, looking back at the ceiling, her eyelids getting slightly heavy. 

 

" I don't know." Was her answer . " I can't remember." She pulled the blanket up a bit more, like there was suddenly a chill only she could feel. " Sorry I hit you." Was the last thing she said before she closed her eyes again. He wanted to prod, to ask how anyone forgets their last name. But there was something about the way she looked once her eyes were closed, a gentleness to fer face and a peace he had yet to witness, that completely silenced him. Amelia No-Last-Name. Something told Daryl he was in for one hell of a ride. 

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