"you say things will be well and fine, though the world around me is crumbling." - passion pit

as the weight of the fight drained out of me, i went silent. the pain of losing charlie felt like it was ripping me apart all over again, and now, with my arm cut open from the fall, it was just too much. i barely noticed daryl and michonne dragging me through the woods, every step making my head spin. i must have blacked out at some point because the next thing i knew, we were in alexandria, and they were hauling me into the infirmary.

"doc!" daryl's voice boomed, filled with panic. siddiq rushed over, his eyes widening as he saw me, limp and bloodied, barely holding on. "what happened?" siddiq asked, his voice tight with concern. "she fell. cut her arm really bad." daryl explained, his voice strained as they laid me onto a bed. siddiq moved quickly, examining my arm, but then his face turned white as a sheet. "gonna need you all to leave," he said, his voice almost too calm. "i ain't going anywhere." daryl shot back, refusing to move.

"she's bit, daryl." siddiq said quietly, the words hanging in the air like a death sentence. i felt a cold wave wash over me, drowning out the pain in my arm. all i could think of was charlie, and suddenly, i didn't want to fight anymore. maybe this was my way out, the way to finally be with her again. "what? no. you're wrong," daryl stammered, his voice cracking as disbelief turned into desperation. "she ain't bit, siddiq. check again!"

siddiq's expression remained grim as he looked back at daryl, his eyes full of sorrow. "no! you ain't doing it!" daryl shouted, his voice growing louder, more frantic, as he pushed siddiq away. they argued back and forth, their voices blending into a blur of noise that felt distant like it was happening in another room. michonne was beside me, holding my hand, her grip firm but gentle. "i'm sorry, isa," siddiq said softly, coming back to my side. "this is gonna hurt."

i saw the large axe in his hand, the blade gleaming under the harsh infirmary lights. the doctor they had brought in handed it to him, his face oddly unphased by the gruesome sight. my heart pounded in my chest, but the fear wasn't for the pain of losing my arm—it was for the thought of losing charlie all over again if i survived this. nothing could be worse than that. i shuddered, the cold reality set in as siddiq positioned the axe. michonne squeezed my hand tighter, her eyes filled with sympathy. 

as siddiq raised the axe, i closed my eyes, a single tear slipping down my cheek. i silently hoped they would leave it, let me go the same way carl had, let me be with charlie again. but i knew daryl wouldn't let that happen, and as the axe came down, the world went black, leaving me with nothing but the echo of charlie's laughter in my mind. 

hours passed before i finally woke up. siddiq was there beside me, hanging a new bag of blood. "hey, how are you feeling?" he asked, checking my pupils. "cold." i replied, noticing the front door was open. "i'll go get him." siddiq said, referring to daryl, who hadn't left the porch. he stepped out for a moment, then sent daryl in, the door shutting softly behind him. daryl just stared at me, no words, his face heavy with guilt. i could see it in his eyes—he felt responsible. if he hadn't let me go off alone, maybe i wouldn't be here. but i couldn't let him, or myself, think that way.

he walked over and sat beside me, still silent. the tears started falling before i could stop them, and soon i was sobbing, loud and uncontrollably. nothing ever seemed to work in my favour anymore. i was so sick of living like this. daryl didn't say anything, didn't try to make it better. he just held me in a side hug, letting me cry. 

we sat like that for hours, until the sun crept up over the horizon and i couldn't cry anymore. i was empty, drained. daryl hadn't moved a muscle the whole time, just stayed by my side, holding me together with his presence. when siddiq finally came in, he told daryl that i could go back to my old home here in alexandria—the old grimes' house. i overheard them talking, siddiq's voice low and serious.

"don't leave her alone," siddiq said, thinking i couldn't hear. "take away her gun and knives, keep her away from anything sharp or blunt." daryl nodded, and i felt a heavy weight settle in my chest. he helped me up, carefully and slowly. i didn't dare look down at my arm, all bandaged up. siddiq had managed to save most of my forearm, but i had lost my hand and a few inches up my wrist. daryl draped his jacket over me, hiding my arm perfectly.

once again, i was led back to that house, up those stairs, and placed in the same bed i had been in after my first attempt. the memories were suffocating. i wondered what carl would think of me now. i wondered what charlie would think of me. "you need anything, holler. i'll be downstairs." daryl said roughly, cracking the door behind him as he left. i lay there in my old bed, the sheets still smelling like fresh laundry detergent, a stark reminder of how little time i had spent here over the years. 

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

the next day had passed in a blur, and now, it was a cold night, around midnight. i sat in the radio room, curled up in a ball in the chair, my oversized sweater draped over me like a protective shield. sweat clung to my skin in the heat, but i couldn't bring myself to take the sweater off. i stared at the radio, waiting to hear the static, the faint crackle of a voice—any voice. i missed hilltop, missed my people, missed my bed.

"isa?" lydia's voice broke through the silence, and i turned to see her peeking around the doorway. "hey." i responded, trying to muster a smile. she stepped into the room, studying my face with that same worried expression i was getting used to seeing. "daryl told me what happened." she said, inching closer, her voice soft. "shit happens." i replied, forcing a shrug, pretending it didn't bother me. the truth was, it bothered me more than i could admit, even to myself. lydia walked over and sat down next to me, her eyes flickering to the sweater clinging to me. "siddiq said you can maybe go home next week if you heal up nicely."

i scoffed at the thought, remembering how i used to be a doctor here, once helping enid through aaron's ordeal of losing his arm. i never thought it would be me. "yeah, we'll see." "you want me to grab you something else to throw on?" lydia offered, her concern obvious. "no, i'm good. i'm...cold." i lied, my voice barely above a whisper. "what's going on with you? found anything fun here to do?" i asked, eager to change the subject, to push the focus away from me.

"i've been helping in the garden. i've been talking to negan... he seems normal, you know. despite what he did... that was shitty." lydia explained, her voice uncertain. "i'm glad you found something to do," i said, nodding. "when i leave tomorrow, i'll take you home with me." i knew i was ignoring siddiq's advice, but i couldn't help it. the thought of staying in that house overwhelmed me. lydia didn't argue. she just looked at me, her eyes filled with something i couldn't quite place. "i'm gonna go... i'll come by later." she said, standing up and leaving the radio shack.

i sighed heavily, my eyes falling on the knife sitting on the desk, atop a chopping board stained with strawberries. the sight of it made something dark twist inside me. the urge to grab it, to end it all, was overwhelming. but then i thought of lydia, of how she would come to the house later and find me dead. and then, who knows, maybe i'd bite someone, give them the same fate i had nearly escaped.

shaking the thought, i left the shack. it was dark outside, the cold air biting at my skin as i stumbled my way back home. on the way, i heard some commotion near a house and instinctively moved toward the noise. shadows flickered through curtains hanging up to dry, the silhouettes of a struggle unmistakable.

i jumped over the fence and grabbed a shovel from beside the house, rushing over. the scene that greeted me made my blood run cold. negan was hovering over lydia as she sobbed, blood pooling from her face. gage was sitting on the ground, holding his nose, crying over the body of the highway woman, who lay there, dead.

"holy shit, what the fuck happened?" i asked, my voice sharp as i rushed to lydia's side. she clung to my legs, seeking comfort, and i knelt, wiping the blood and hair from her face.

"you freak, this is your fault!" gage yelled at lydia, who was now sobbing uncontrollably at my feet. i stood up, getting in gage's face, my voice low and dangerous. "shut the fuck up." i snapped. "it was negan! he killed her!" gage shouted, and as more people started to show up, the tension in the room skyrocketed. "no! no, he didn't!" lydia cried, her voice breaking. "get him out of here!" i shouted to the crowd. daryl and a few others arrived just in time, but the chaos was already spreading. "no! he didn't do anything wrong!" lydia pleaded, her voice desperate.

"move!" i shouted, my voice cutting through the noise. i looked down at lydia, who was still holding onto me. "i know, i know." i whispered, trying to comfort her, but it was no use. lydia was inconsolable as she watched negan get dragged away. daryl sent the crowd away, and i helped lydia up, following siddiq to the infirmary—back to where i had been just twelve hours ago. lydia clung to me, crying into my shoulder as siddiq treated her wounds. i held her close, hushing her as she sobbed.

as we sat there, the weight of everything pressing down on us, it struck me how much lydia needed someone, how much she looked up to me to protect her. but those thoughts stayed unspoken, buried beneath the pain and the fear that had become all too familiar in this world.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

the arm was a spur-of-the-moment thing...i even shocked myself with this LOL, sorryyy.