ꜰᴏᴏʟ'ꜱ ᴍᴀᴛᴇ || ᴛᴡᴅ

057: ʙʀᴇᴀᴋɪɴɢ

MENTIONS OF SEXUAL ASSAULT AND SUICIDE

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Sami had been let out of his cell because apparently they needed it for someone else.

He couldn't even remember half the shit the Saviors had done to him. He just knew that it was all pointless, and horrible. He was either in the dark or blind-folded, and was fairly sure Grace had told everyone to just let their anger out of him if they felt like it. Every bone and muscle hurt. His ear kept bleeding, and he didn't know if it was because of a cut or something further in. 

He'd remembered crying alone int he cell, too. Over what, he wasn't sure. He missed Glenn. And Abraham. And Sasha and Maggie and Papa and Tyreese and Beth and Lori and Bob. 

He missed Rick. How he used to be, how he, too, used to protect their people. 

He missed Rosita. He had too much to tell her, but just wanted to exist with her, nothing more. He hoped him ghost could hang around Alexandria, exist alongside her.

He missed Carl. He missed Danny. He must have been upset that he wasn't with them, wasn't protecting them.

Or, maybe, he was just a human in pain, and alone, and crying over it. There didn't  have to be a big reason. Sami just thought there did. He couldn't cry for himself, that was pathetic. He didn't matter.

Honestly, there wasn't a spot on his skin that wasn't cut or bruised, and Grace had decided that wetting the rags used to gag him was a brilliant idea, as it had made his asthma go horrible. 

He was in too much pain for them to even leave a guard with him. Since Negan killed his last doctor, he said he'd get the next one to check on him when he got there. But, for now, he was stuck on a chair in the hall, eyes closed, head against the wall, but not asleep, his lungs hurt too much for that.

Sami didn't even know how he felt. He thought maybe he was just completely terrified. He'd been terrified before, but never for himself. Now, he flinched at every footstep, tried to get away from anyone who came near him. 

And it was getting worse. Though he'd been left alone for most of the morning thanks to some shooting somewhere in the building, his stomach was in agony. He hadn't eaten at all in however long he'd been here. 

He didn't even know how long he was there for. There were no windows, so he couldn't even look at the sun or moon. 

He began to doze off from pure exhaustion, but just like the few times before he just heard Rosita's begs as they dragged him off again, and jerked awake, thinking he was home, only to still be in that grey hall.

He missed everyone. That was probably the worst of it. Sami hadn't really been alone since it all began. He'd always had someone to protect. And if he was alone, he was doing something for his people.

But this? Here? If he died, it would mean nothing, and he never realized how terrified of that he was. He didn't want a meaningless death. He didn't want to be killed. 

As he sat looking at the wall, the same thoughts of not mattering came to his mind. No one cared if he died. Hell, he hadn't even spoken to Rick properly since Glenn and Abraham died. No one would care.

He wished they'd just get it over with. If his death was to be this meaningless, he wanted to it just be done with so he could deal with whatever was next.

Sami hadn't been paying attention to anything. He was too exhausted, too weak. But he saw the door to his cell was open, hearing voices inside. With blood clogging one ear, he couldn't hear it too well. So, he tilted his head. He was going to die anyway, why not hear the neighborhood gossip?