InsaneJournal

Lexie had been sleeping on a cot every single night since the earthquake. It was a cushy cot with some musty cushions from the couches that were in the barn, a blanket, and a pillow that she sometimes thought maybe smelled like Dean. She knew that was her imagination compensating for the days when she felt truly afraid - like she might really be hurt. Those days? She'd go to sleep, imagine she smelled her hero, and everything might just be OK. It was a survival instinct - it was her brain telling her that she wasn't as unsafe as it knew she was. Really, it was delusional.

So, when she rolled a little and didn't feel the dent where cushions always seperated (at knees and ribs, usually) it unsettled her a little. Another roll, another shift, and Lexie still didn't feel that break in the bed. This wasn't her bed - and that made brown eyes come open with a snap.

She thought she should say something, but the best she could come up with was a gasp as she pushed to sit up and blinked hard at the sight of chain linked fencing surrounding her inside the familiar backdrop of the barn where she'd spent her first few days. She turned to look the other way, catching sight of the occupied bed opposite her own and a familiar mop of brown hair made her blink a couple of times. "Andy?" She questioned, clearly confused. She hadn't gone to sleep in a cage with Andy Gallagher - was it wrong she was getting used to waking up in places that she hadn't gone to sleep in? This place was doing terrible things to what she used to think was normal. Apparently, this was becoming normal.

"Andy--" She said a little more sharply, the realization that she was inside a cage growing harder to cope with. She was in a cage. A God damned cage. With razor wire and a lock to hold the door shut. Damn.