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GREY KINGSTON
"yeah, i can see why rick was concerned," pete says as he moves his pointer finger back and forth in front of my face so i can follow it with my eyes. "but i don't think you have a concussion."
"i don't either." i say.
"okay." he declares, stepping away from the bed i'm sitting on in the infirmary. "i want you to drink lots of fluids and get lots of rest. maybe don't go out on anymore runs for a bit, and keep the strenuous activity to a minimum."
i nod my head as i watch him write all this down on a yellow notepad.
"how is rick by the way? i bet he's having to deal with all the trouble from last night." pete tears the yellow piece of paper off the pad. "those two boys ... what a shame."
"rick's fine, we're all sad over noah and aiden, but he's fine." i take the piece of paper from him as i hold a blank expression on my face.
"yeah, i've seen him combing the streets with michonne. they ever tell you about their days? what they find?" he asks, taking a seat behind his desk.
i slowly shake my head as i look anywhere but his eyes, "nope. not much crime in a perfect neighborhood."
"alexandria was perfect." he nods his head. "then your group showed up. it's funny, it's almost like ever since then, things have just gone downhill here."
the large infirmary is completely silent besides the ticking clock hanging on the wall above the front door.
i decided to stay for the appointment anyway after seeing rosita wasn't in at the moment, but now i'm kind of wishing i listened to rick.
i let out a single laugh through my nose as i fake a smile—one that matches his perfectly.
this man isn't holding back, he's going in for the kill these next couple days, i can tell. rick and carol know who he really is now and he assumes i do too.
he's right.
the door suddenly swings open, breaking the intense stare between pete and i.
"grey," rosita steps inside, dropping a few boxes of medical supplies on the floor by the door. "eugene told me you were in here. we got an issue on the watch deck, can you come?"
"yeah." i hop off the bed, the exam paper crinkling beneath me as i do so. "thanks, doc."
"anytime." pete rests into his chair as i walk past his desk and towards rosita.
"what's going on?" i ask as soon as she closes the infirmary door behind us.
"spencer. he's on the watch deck drunk, causing a scene."
