Didn't See That Coming | The Walking Dead(1)

Part 41 (Stop Worrying)

When CJ woke up the following morning, it was to the orange light of the early morning sunrise beaming through the thin windows on the cell block. She was sure that her tiredness reflected in her eyes having spent most of the night tossing and turning. She turned to lie on her back and ran her hands through her tangled hair. She shut her eyes again and sighed heavily at the thought of what the new day could bring.

Sitting up and draping her legs over the side of the bed, she looked over to the small mirror that rested on the small shelf on the wall in the corner of her cell, squinting her eyes slightly as the sunbeams bounced off of the smudged glass.

The angle she was sitting at meant she got a near-perfect view of her tattoo on her shoulder. She reached across her body with her left hand and traced over it, feeling the faint bumps of the scarring that the ink was concealing. 

Before she went to bed, Hershel had cleaned and bandaged up her arm better. Luckily it didn't need stitches, but the bruising around the wound made her entire right side feel heavy. The purple and blue markings peeked out through the white bandage to serve as a reminder of the battle of Woodbury. The first battle of a pending war between the town and the prison.

One thing that made her smile, was remembering the conversation she'd had with Carl before she'd gone to sleep. 

"CJ, meet your niece: Judith Grimes," Carl beamed as he held the baby in his arms.

"She finally has a name? About time," CJ chuckled as she went over and took Judith from him and rocked her gently.

"Judith, meet your aunt Clara-Jane," Carl said.

"Carl," CJ narrowed her eyes at the boy, but she couldn't hide her smile.

"Fine, fine," Carl held his hands up and smiled. "Judith, meet your aunt CJ."

"Thank you, nephew Carl," CJ replied in a fake formal voice, which made Carl laugh and roll his eyes.

That conversation made her realise she had nothing to worry about when it came to looking after these kids for Lori. She loved them like her own, and that's all she needed to do.

CJ changed into her faded black jeans and wrapped her blue flannel around her, rolling up the sleeves to her elbows and wincing as the material brushed against the covered wound. She brought the two sides together in a knot across her stomach. She secured her belt with her knives safely sheathed on each hip and attached her holster to her right thigh, the familiar weight of the gun resting against her.

After cleaning up as best as she could with half a bottle of water and a face cloth, she made her way to the food area. Michonne had just come in after sleeping in the bus out by the gate. 

"Morning," CJ greeted in a slightly raspy voice as she sat at the table and rested her head in her hands. "How you feelin'?"

"Better," Michonne sighed. "You alright?"

"Better than I look, I promise," CJ chuckled. Michonne smiled lightly before looking away from CJ. "You could have slept in the cell block. You know you're safe here, right?"

Michonne looked up at her again with a small nod. "I do. I just wanted space to think." 

CJ didn't want to push Michonne to talk. She was obviously still being cautious about trusting the group. As CJ looked around the room, she couldn't help but feel like something was missing. Remembering the events of the previous day, she let out a quiet sigh and closed her eyes. Michonne noticed CJ's silence and felt slightly guilty.

"I'm sorry about Daryl," she said softly. CJ looked up at her, taken aback by her words. 

"It wasn't your fault, but thanks," CJ tried to smile.