I'm Dead. What Now? ‣ Carl Grimes Gay

e l e v e n

R E E C E

"Wait— wait, wait, stop!"

"What?"
I ask.
"What? My hand is two shakes away from plugging this!"

"This is the wrong patient."
Melody whispers, looking at me with big eyes.

"Shut up."
I groan.
"Shut up, you're kidding. You're being an ass right now, that's not funny."

"No, this is not the right patient."
She mumbles, shifting her stance uncomfortably.

"How do you know?"

"I'm a surgeon, I know my goddamn patient, Reece."

"Apparently not!"

"Malachi Marcus has a beauty mark above his lip. Malachi Marcus has freckles."

"If I pull up the cover and this patient does not have a fucking penis, I'm going to kill you— four times."

I checked, and half of me wished I hadn't. Someone had given Melody the wrong patient, and we were too deep into a transplant to stop now.

"We're fucked."
I whisper.

"Dammit!"
She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath.
"I can't stop, I can't just close up right now."

"What are our options?"
I ask.

"I don't know."

"Did you graduate?"

"Are you fucking kidding me, Reece?"
She asks.
"You studied Engineering, and dropped out."

"Exactly, I'm not a surgeon, what do you expect me to do?"

"I expect you to help me! You're a scrub nurse, Reece, I'm doing all the work!"

"Can I cry?"

"I don't know, but I want to!"
She sighs.

When you're stuck in a situation like this, no option seems like the best option. You go through countless "what ifs" and you contemplate trying everything you can, but regardless, you're still going to be stuck in the same exact place.

The whole thing had just gone to hell. The rest of the day was full of me going back in forth between missing Carl and feeling guilty about the surgery.

Typically, after stress like this, I would've suggested some sex therapy, but my honey had put me in the silent zone, and he would barely even look my way.

If I was in the conversation he was in, he'd always have something else to do rather than stick around. If I was in the same room as him, there was always somewhere else for him to go.

I was practically a lost puppy trying to follow his true love, but wasn't making any fucking progress.

The thing with Carl is, if he has problems with me, there's other people he can go to... or should I say men.