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» GHOSTS PT.2 «

Living With (Some) Regrets
TW: Drug/Alcohol Abuse

"What's that, the second tonight?" Siddiq asked as I helped a woman onto a bed, her eyes shut as she drifted in and out of consciousness. Some people were feeling the effects of exhaustion much quicker than others, causing them pass out in the middle of the fight.

"Third. I just took Barbara home to get some sleep." I sighed, falling back onto a bed with alert eyes. The infirmary was mostly empty other than a few unconscious patients, light breathing and snores being the only sound.

"What about you?" Siddiq wondered, sitting beside me with a concerned gaze. "You look tired."

"I'm not." I replied immediately, sitting up right. "I mean, I couldn't sleep even if I wanted to." I shook off the weariness in my limbs, meeting his eyes certainly.

Siddiq glanced to the collection of medical supplies. "We've got some Temazepam, if you wanted to get some sleep." He muttered quietly, his words hesitant.

The mention of it caused my heart to speed up rapidly and without warning. I shook my head dismissively. "I can't, not after..." I mumbled, not wanting to mention it directly.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have said anything." He quickly apologised, fumbling with his fingers nervously. "I just don't want you to wear yourself out."

I smiled reassuringly, making it clear I was fine. "It's okay, Siddiq. It was a long time ago." I reminded him, trying to keep the conversation casual despite the depressing subject.

"She-she's not waking up!" Daryl yelled, shaking my shoulders urgently. He could feel the rate of his heart speeding up with every second my eyes remained shut. "Is she-is she breathing?"

Siddiq shakily turned me on my side, listening closely and carefully even though he was incredibly distressed.

"She's breathing. Her heart rate is low, we gotta, uh, we gotta try something." He was working hard, attempting to keep his voice steady but it was so difficult. He had never seen me like this, so pale and limp. "What did she take?"

Daryl searched around the bedside table, objects clattering to the ground as his fingers gripped a rattling container. "These are sleeping pills, right?"

Siddiq glanced at the tub, a sudden frown on his face. "Yeah, she takes them sometimes. How many are left?" He felt his heart plummet almost through the floorboards, his lips trembling uncontrollably. It was like he already knew the answer.

Daryl shook the container, three tiny pills dropping into his palm as he filled with agonising dread. He could see it in Siddiq's eyes, the realisation of what had happened.

"Mom?" A small, whimpering voice sounded from the doorway.

"I was an idiot, I made a mistake." I shrugged off, seeing the downturn of his lips. "And it wasn't your fault."

Siddiq nodded although I didn't think he quite believed himself. "It was pretty scary. We thought we lost you." He smiled sadly, his fingers linking through mine. I wasn't sure if he was comforting me or himself, but I didn't mind. I liked being with him, especially in moments where we could just be quiet and still, away from the chaos that was constantly happening. This, however, was not one of these moments.

"Doc!" Daryl yelled, the door swinging open with a clash as he heaved himself and Carol through the door.

"What happened?" I almost jumped out of my skin when Dante was suddenly by my side, his eyebrows drawn with concern as Daryl set the injured woman down. How long had he been there?