afraid | the walking dead

Chapter 3

"What?" I asked, anxious.
Maggie put a hand on her stomach.
"I'm pregnant," She said with a smile.

The news struck me like a bolt of lightning. Was this a good thing or a bad thing? Surely she knew the danger of it.

"Maggie..." I started awkwardly. "Do you guys have a doctor here? With necessary supplies?" She'd die without those things.
Maggie's facial expression changed.
"Quinn...we have medical supplies here. It-It'll work out, I promise."

I broke eye contact, still unsure.
She put her hand on my shoulder.  "It'll be okay." I looked up and nodded half-heartedly.
"Well, we gotta find a place for you to stay..." Maggie said, thinking of who would have a free room. A wave of worry rushed over me.
"Mags...I don't know if I can stay here," I said, closed off. I didn't like being in groups. I didn't trust people anymore. Except, maybe Maggie, but that's not the point. I saw Maggie's reaction. What was that? Disappointment? Understanding?
"Quinn, listen. You can't go back out there by yourself. We're back together now. We need to stay together."
"Maggie, the only person here who knows anything about me is you. And you don't know how I've changed over the years." I argued.

Maggie looked down. She knew I was right. "Could you sleep on it?"

I looked back up, sighing.
"Okay. Okay, yeah," I said, still trying to gather all of my thoughts. I didn't want to leave Maggie. But this place, this community, it didn't feel...real.
"Okay," She said with a half smile. "But if you want time to process this, you're gonna need a place to stay," She started. "You could stay with me an-"

Rick, who was sitting on a nearby step, interrupted her.
"Oh, no. You'll be stayin' with me."
I stared.
"Can't have you causing trouble."
I just glared at him. He's smart for being precautious, but something about him just threw me off. He must have been through something pretty bad too.

Later That Day

I followed Rick into his house.

"That's where you'll be sleeping," Rick said, pointing to a couch in the living room.

I was just thankful to have a place to sleep that wasn't on the ground.
Rick closed the door behind him and went into a room down the hallway. He came back and threw a towel and shirt at me.

"Go take a shower down the hall to your left. You could use it," Rick said in an insulting way as I caught the items he threw.

I stood there, frozen. I never thought I'd see or hear of running water again. Showering was practically overrated now. It was one of those special things only smart, and lucky, survivors had access to. Bringing myself out of my train of thought, I walked down the hall to take a shower, while silently mocking Rick.

"You could use it," I whispered in an annoying voice.
I walked into the bathroom, still stunned. I walked towards the sink and turned it on. Water. Running water. I froze. Until I remembered I still had to shower.

Prior to showering, I made sure to remove my emergency knife from my boot. I hid it under the towel.

I climbed in the shower, ready to get all of the blood and grime off my skin. I watched as the blood and dirt trailed down from my body and into the drain. It should've been comforting to know that the blood didn't belong to me. But it wasn't.

After showering, I felt better than I had in months. My face was clean, and there was no trace of blood left on my body. Not until I had put my jeans and boots back on.

I put the shirt on and looked in the mirror. It was a plain gray baseball tee. Alright, I can work with this, I thought, straightening out the shirt. I grabbed my weapons and changed into my navy blue pants, which were more like black pants by now, and brown boots. I walked out with my old, bloody shirt in hand. I decided to trash it, throwing it in the trash can next to the kitchen counter. It was no use to me now and there is no way in hell to get those stains out.

I looked out the window. It was still daylight. I sat down on the couch.
I thought. I thought about a lot of things. I thought about Beth. My dad.
They're gone. And you weren't there.
I wiped my memory of grief. I had to think about other things, like joining this group. I was just starting to think when the sound of the opening of a door blocked my thoughts. Obviously he didn't know that I was thinking about it and probably meant no harm, but this Rick guy was seriously getting on my nerves.

"Listen, I don't know why you-"
I stopped as I turned toward the noise, and it turned out to not be Rick at all.