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Sami practiced like crazy for two days.
He learnt, mostly, to walk with the prostatic and a walking stick. Danny kept saying he was going to make him a walking stick with the skills he'd learnt in the Hilltop. He'd carve him one with waves on it, like the beaches he liked at home, and stars.
but, for now, Sami just had a plain black one, and felt like he should be threatening to hit people with it if they pissed him off.
The leg was wooden, apparently just sitting around somewhere. It was much harder to get used to. but Sami would. He saw Hershel with his. But it hurt, horribly, to put the leg on a new wound. But, he did it anyway. Once they killed Negan, he'd have time to heal. but now, he had to push through the pain.
After getting what they believed was fake news from Dwight, they hatched a plan. A plan to end it.
Morgan was loosing it. Big time. He'd almost attacked both Henry and Danny, both of which could handle it, but still it freaked them out.
The Saviors that hadn't ran, which included Alden, were now a careful part of the group, slowly working their way in. It was nice. It reminded Sami of Carl.
He'd read his letter. And he had to ignore it. He'd deal with it after.
Sami stuck with Apollo, and with the group, keeping back for stealth shit. Which was once.
Now, they were walking across a field. Sami was glad to get some pracitce in with his leg. The fields were clean, mostly just the odd rock, and an upwards slant for the hills. It was good, he told himself, as his leg screamed in pain. It's good to learn.
"You seem better. Despite . . . you know."
He glanced at Jesus, as he walked alongside him. Sami was slower than normal, and using his hip to move his leg, more, limping due to the pain. His steps probably looked ridiculous.
"I don't know what you mean."
'I mean since last time we talked, while walking." Jesus chuckled. "You don't have the same . . . there was a look in your eye. it wasn't a good one. It's not there anymore."
Sami shrugged. A lot wasn't there that was when they last talked. A lot of Saviors. A want to kill. Carl. His leg. His toes.
"You know the weirdest thing about this?" He gestured to his leg. "I'll get over not having a leg. It's . . . my scars. From before." He pulled up his other pants leg a little, showing the jagged scars trailing up his leg. "I don't know what they meant to me, but they mean something. Not having them . . . "
"I know. Scars show that the pain wasn't all in your head. That you deserve to feel the way you do." Jesus nodded. "But you still have them on your left leg. Your right just tells another, now."
"Woah."
They stopped at the sound of Jerry's voice, seeing a hoarde of walkers below them, too far to see them, but more than he'd seen in over a year.
"Ever seen one that big?'
Rick shrugged. "Things are changing. Let's go."
"How much further?" Sami asked the King, as they began walking again.
"We grow closer." He said. "Yonder, over the ridge."
Sami adored how he spoke.
But, it was over that ridge that they heard the whistles.
They were down a hill, surrounded by ground, meaning they couldn't see who was whistling at them, making them raise their guns blindly.
"Well, damn, Rick." Negan's voice came through a speaker from somewhere. "Look at that. Pegged again. Pegged so very hard. I ambushed your ambush with an even bigger ambush. "
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ꜰᴏᴏʟ'ꜱ ᴍᴀᴛᴇ || ᴛᴡᴅ
FanficSami was in America to help his little brother, Danny. He couldn't speak English, and wasn't planning to be there for long. And then the world ended.