ꜰᴏᴏʟ'ꜱ ᴍᴀᴛᴇ || ᴛᴡᴅ

039: ɢᴏᴅꜰᴏʀꜱᴀᴋᴇɴ ᴍᴇꜱꜱ

MENTIONS OF SEXUAL ASSAULT

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Everything went to shit the next day. 

Sami woke up in a room he didn't know, and almost puked. He didn't feel good. He felt sick. He hurt. He didn't know if it was the hangover or the fact that he could see his clothes and underwear on the floor and could not remember when they got there.

Rosita didn't see him until the next day, when he came into the house instead of going out of it. He didn't even look at her. He just held his arms tightly around himself and rushed to his room.

Then, by that night, Noah was dead. Torn apart by walkers when Nicholas, the guy at the gate, selfishly turned a rotating door and got him killed. 

And Deanna's older son was dead, too. 

Tara injured, pretty much in a coma.

Glenn was a wreak. 

"I saw the grenades. I tried to stop him. He was gonna run. But we made him stay. Couldn't get Aiden out of there without help. All he had to do was hold the door. But he panicked. Noah - I had him. I had his hand. I tried. I watched him die."

"There wasn't a thing you could do." Sami said. "Alright? This is completely his fault, not yours."

He nodded, slowly, but Sami knew he wasn't convinced. "I could've left him out there. Told a story. You think I should've?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I wasn't there, you made the choices. I trust they're the right ones. You're a good person. Good people do the right things a lot."

"we have to be here, though. If he tells some story-"

"We'll back you. We'll doing anything and everything to keep us here, okay?" He put his hand on his shoulder. "It's not on just you or just one decision. We'll stay, we'll make it work."

Sami's problems felt stupid, yet he still couldn't stop thinking about it. He felt horrible. Disgusting. Dirty. Sinead wanted to get with her ex-boyfriend. She did. That's nothing compared to someone being dead, was it?

Sophie felt horrible about Noah. She, Taylor and Noah had all been sharing a room. His clothes were sat in the corner of it. How could he just . . . not be here?

And Tara was hurt on the run.  Knocked out, lost way too much blood. But she was stable, okay. They had a infirmary, a surgeon. She'd be okay. 

So why was Sami caught up in himself? He needed to suck it up and move on. it wasn't a stranger. It was only bad if it was a stranger, right?

Of course, he was wrong. But it was how he felt.

There was a knock on his bedroom door early the next morning, as he lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. 

"Come in!"

Rosita walked in, arms crossed. "Hi."

He smiled at her, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Hola."

She sighed, walking around the bed to lay on the other side, staring at the roof beside him. "It's a nice roof."

He shook his head, turned it to look at her. "My roof back home had heaps of dirt on it from when I put string lights on it. I prefer that. this is just a white voice."

She chuckled. "Then why stare at it?"

He shrugged. "I'm staring at you now."

She looked him for a moment, smiled, and then it fell. "Tara's doing better."