𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐈𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐈𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐫// 𝐓𝐖𝐃

S3: No End Yet

(Naomie)

I sat on the bed in Hershel's cell, my leg propped up onto his knee as he looked at the bullet wound. It was looking and feeling a lot better.

It's been a few days since Merle, and Daryl has been doing okay, from what I can tell. He hasn't pushed me or anyone else away, which is a great thing. Unfortunately, after Merles attempt to kill the Governor, Rick is positive he's about to come at us again. This time we plan to be ready.

"I think your stitches can come out now."  Hershel says, setting my leg down to get the bag of medical supplies. I force a smile to him and look out the cell. Beth is on the floor with Judith, she's reading one of the baby books Maggie picked up from the stack of comics I got for Carl.

Hershel lifts my leg back onto his knee and begins to clean off his tweezers, and mini scissors. My mind is running with so many things at once I don't even realize when he begins to cut the stitches from my leg. 

"You still thinking about him?" Hershel asks softly. I snap my head towards him trying to catch up with the question. I'm not sure who it could be about, Pop, Shane, T, Merle...  the Governor? All of those people including Andrea, Mrs. Lori, Mom-mom, and Sophia. They've all been in my head on repeat for the last couple of days. Every time someone dies, it's hard to actually process that you'll never see them again. Until... you never see them again.

Sometimes when I wake up in the morning, I still catch myself forgetting that I can't run to his room and jump onto his bed to wake him up. When I wake up from a nightmare sometimes, I still think, just for the slightest moment, that he'll be in my room to put me back to sleep. Nighttime is the hardest when it comes to grief, the darkness is nothingness, and it causes me to be sad about thing I don't have time to be sad about during the day.

I'm grateful for Beth, and the way she will hum during the night if she hears me freak out. But every time I'm not waking up from a nightmare, I'm walking around in one without my control. I'm scared to bring it up to anyone, but if they already know they haven't said anything. I'm just hoping it doesn't get as bad as it used to be.

"Omie-."

I shake my head, focusing back on Hershel. I've forgotten his question. "Sorry, what did you ask?"

He chuckles, cutting another stitch from my leg. "You're still thinking about Merle?"

"Oh-." I look over his shoulder to the Michonne and Rick talking to one another in the corner. I notice the way Rick's eyes change a little when he speaks with her. It reminds me of the happiness he had before Shane's death.

"I just wish keeping one life didn't cost another." I explain. "Merle was never perfect, but at the end he tried to do the best for Daryl... and I can't hate him for it. I also can't not be sad that he died the way he did."

"I'm very proud to hear that even with as much as resentment you had towards him, you still care enough to mourn him." He rubs a thumb over my cheek, in a similar way Pope used to do to wipe my tears.

Does that make me a bad person for not feeling the same way towards Shane, or still wishing the Governor would keel over?

He pats my knee, letting me know he's finished with my stitches. I gasp running a finger over my very obvious white scar. It looks so cool. "I look..."

"Badass." He finishes.

I laugh patting the knee of his missing leg back. "You too." I jump up from the bed, moving towards the door quickly. Hershel seems confused by my sudden burst of energy. "I need to fix something I ruined before we take down the Governor."