virago|c.g.|

iii

The room was quiet as Glenn, Rick, Daryl and Michonne stood besides the window of the infirmary, their eyes landed on the body of who they deemed Clarissa J. Dean as she slept. Her operation had finished hours ago, Pete saying that she was strong and that she would pull through. Michonne had her eyes upon the young girl, biting the inside of her cheek before she spoke."So, we just gonna stand and stare or decide what's going to happen to her?" Her question was not out of a place of malice, rather curiosity and caution. She had never seen such a young girl be so ready and willing to fight at the verge of death. Rick clenched his jaw in thought as Glenn stayed looking at the girl, thoughts crossing his mind as he wondered all about the young girl before speaking. "That's not our decision to make, and I don't think it can be made until we find out exactly who she is." Glenn pursed his lips, wondering if they would ever find out the truth behind the mysterious girl. Rick shook his head, bringing his hand to the bridge of his nose. "And how do we do that? We don't know how long she'll be out for." As Rick looked to the group around him, he saw that no one else could answer that question.

Glenn let out a short breath of air, looking out the window to the world that Alexandria created. The pristine houses, clean streets, children's laughter. So unlike the world outside, the world that produced survivors just like the girl. "Right now, Maggie's looking through what she had with her horse. From what we saw, she had a couple weapons attached, and a bag tied the saddle. Hopefully there's something in there that tells us a little more about her." Glenn looked back towards the girl for a moment, scanning over her. He could tell she was a fighter, not only from the tattoos she somehow had or the scars all over her body but mainly from a long scar down her right arm and the large scar on the right side of her face. Glenn shook his head, his thoughts coming to a single conclusion. "We can't let her go, she's— she put up a hell of a fight but she was almost dead. We have to help her—" his words were cut off as Rick stepped forward. "But she could be dangerous—"

"Nah, she's scared." Everyone's eyes fell on Daryl as he walked towards her. He was surprisingly gentle as he looked at the bruises on her neck. He then moved part of her shirt that rested around her neck to see small scars poking out from under before looking at the large scar that ran along her right arm. Not wanting to disturb her, everyone was surprised as his voice sounded softly. "Kid's been abused, and I'm talking some bad shit abuse." The group around him watched as his finger pointed towards her exposed neck. "The bruises on her throat, it's a bit faded but they got the outline of a hand, but they ain't big. They either from a woman or a boy close to her age, maybe boyfriend." Glenn stepped forward, causing all eyes to turn to him."She was afraid of Carl. When she saw him she went into full defensive mode." Everyone's eyes fell on the girl as they realized there was more to her story.

The stares stopped as Glenn's voice sounded once again. "How else do you know she was abused?" Glenn watched as Daryl's finger moved away from the girl. "Can't say what the scar on her arm is from, but she's got some nasty scars on her back. From what I can see there's two kinds, thicker lashes probably from a belt and thinner ones too. Thin branches, use 'Em hard enough and they're just as good of whips. You get someone that wants to hurt you bad enough, they'll use anything." No one wanted to ask how he was so sure as his eyes landed on her once more, a sadness in his usual stern eyes. Everyone knew of the scars on his own back, and of his own past, and knew not to question if he was sure. If anything it just made them sad as they looked over to the girl once more, realizing Glenn was right. She couldn't go back out there, or maybe she'd acquire even more scars. Daryl joined the group, backing away from the girl as he shook his head. "But she's a tough son of a bitch, and I agree with Glenn. We let her go, we're killing her." Rick shook his head. "We don't know anything about her, Daryl."

"Maybe her dog tags will help." All eyes landed on Deanna as she walked in, opening the palm of her hand to reveal the dog tags. "These are homemade, as in someone flattened out metal themselves, shaped it, and stamped them with tools. There's no way these are official military tags. They have to be hers." Deanna held out the tags, Glenn quick to grab them and hold them in his hands. "What about the Latin? I haven't seen those on tags before," Rick claimed, everyone's attention staying on Deanna as she nodded. "Another way I can tell they're not official. The saying on the tag that says 'Lieutenant,' it translates to 'If I cannot move Heaven, I will raise hell.'  The second one, 'Aut viam inveniam aut faciam' stands for 'I will either find a way or make one.' They're popular Latin quotes, the first being from Virgil's Aeneid and the second was popularized by a Carthaginian general." The woman let out a soft breath. "They're... interesting choices." Glenn looked down to the tags in his hand, his fingers brushed over the etchings before he looked up.