I had a little trouble getting into the car and Daryl was sure to laugh at me, well as close as he gets to laughing -which is pretty much just a scoff and head shake- before lending me a hand and I was sure to elbow him in the leg for finding amusement in my pain once I was in.
He passed me my backpack and I nodded as thanks, side-eyeing him from inside the car.
He closed the door —probably to keep me from escaping— and as Glenn pulled out I gave him a mock salute and stuck out my tongue, to which he shook his head with that almost smile.
We reached the farm after dark. Mostly because Glenn missed the turn...twice.
I got out of the car before Glenn could and opened the gate, letting him drive through before I closed and latched it and got back in; not as much trouble as the first time but it still hurt like a skateboard the shins.
Glenn parked the car a distance from the house under a tree in the driveway, and we all got out.
Going up to the steps, Glenn and T stopped in front of me; eyes set on a set of red drips on the top step.
"So do we ring the bell? I mean it looks like people live here." Glenn looked back at me as if I had the answer.
I put my hand on his shoulder, and he looked to T as he said, "We're past this kind of stuff, aren't we?"
"Having to be considerate." T-Dog swayed in his step as they started up the steps and I noticed that girl from earlier sitting on the porch.
I broke off without notice and went around to look at her.
They reached the top of the stairs and I came up on the other side of the girl who was watching them in mild amusement from the faded green rocking chair against the house.
"You close the gate up the road when you drove in?" she made her presence known to them and they stopped to look at her.
"Uh, hi..." Glenn started awkwardly. "Yes, we closed it. Did the latch and everything."
She dropped her legs down off the chair and leaning against her elbows on her knees.
"Hello. Nice to see you again" Glenn made a lame attempt at being polite. She didn't respond and he shook his head slightly, "We, ah, met before...briefly."
So it wasn't just me he wasn't smooth with. I wonder, does he have this kind of trouble talking to all new women he meets?
"Look, we came to help. There anything we can do—" T-Dog grunted painfully.
"It's not a bite. I uh...I cut myself pretty bad though." T-Dog reassured the girl.
"We'll have it looked at. I'll tell 'em yer here." She stood and went to open the door.
"We have uh, some painkillers and antibiotics" Glenn pulled out the pills from his backpack. "I already gave him some." he gestured to T-Dog, sparing him a glance. "If Carl needs any..."
"Come on inside, I'll make you something to eat." She opened the door and turned to go in first but jumped out of her skin when she saw me, a short scream escaped her lips.
"Oh— that's Eve." Glenn was quick to make sure she didn't panic, thinking I'm a walker. I lifted my hands in surrender, offering the best disarming smile I could.
"She does that a lot. I guess we should have warned you..."Glenn trailed off awkwardly.
Her eyes fixed on my hands, reminding me of the scratches spanning my palms.
She swallowed, eyeing me again before opening the door fully and letting us in.
I motioned for T-Dog to go ahead of me and closed the door behind myself when we were all inside.
It's always weird being in a stranger's house. Gives my gut the flutters. It smells different than the city. Clean, and old; slight hints of fresh cut grass, fruit trees, and dust.
"What is she? Yer bodyguard or somethin'?" the girl lead us through to the living room. It's old and homy; faded paint and furniture well used, but well taken care of.
"I wish. Then I could sleep without one eye open. No, she uh— fell out of a tree. Tweaked her neck, scraped her hands pretty bad, been having trouble breathing."
I looked at Glenn, almost too quickly. How the goblin toes does he know about my breathing?
Glenn glanced at my , shifting evasively and directed his eyes back to the girl.
She lead us to the room where Carl was resting and the second I walked through the door, my stomach dropped into my boots, sinking through the ground; a perpetual state of falling.
"Hey" Glenn muttered, dragging off his hat.
Rick and Lori looked up from the other side of the room, next to their son's bedside.
"Hey" Rick replied hoarsely. He looks as bad as I feel. His normal peachy skin taken on pallor, brow slicked with sweat, police shirt open stained with red, eyes tired and unfocused like he hasn't slept in weeks, a red puff under his eyes but not the sort that comes from crying; the sort that makes him look like a drug addict. The living breathing definition of wan.
Carl laid in the white sheets, a bloodied bandage on his side contrasting starkly with the drained pallor of his body, hauntingly similar to his father's.
"Um...we're here, okay?" Glenn swallowed, staring remorsefully at Carl.
I know you mean well Glenn, and it's good to let them know they're not in this alone, but there are no words aside from 'mom' and 'dad' that will make this better right now.
"Thank you" Lori nodded to him, fiddling with her necklace. Rick barely glanced at us, rubbing his head with his hand.
"Whatever you need" T-Dog let them know before he and Glenn somberly shuffled out of the room.
Rick dragged a tired hand down his worry riddled face as the doctor peeled the blanket down below Carl's stomach to rest on the boy's hips.
A sharp influx of breath burned my torso at the sight of the swelling purple and blue of Carl's stomach, around the bandage, spreading all the way to the other side of his abdomen.
The wooden floorboards made light squeaks as my feet carried me behind Rick and Lori's seats. I set gentle hands on their shoulders giving a reassuring squeeze to the both of them.
Lori placed her hand over the top of mine, squeezing as tight as her strength would allow, and Rick leaned slightly into my touch but remained hunched over, holding his son's hand. A horrid weight of guilt rolling from his composure.
There's nothing else I can do for them but God I wish there was.
I'm not a parent— nor have ever been or had the desire to be. I can't imagine how it feels to see your child hurt or injured let alone have the loom of death hanging over their head, but...Carl is the nephew I'd have never had, if it weren't for the downfall of civilization.
"They don't get back soon, we're gonna have a decision to make." the old achromatic haired doctor's eyes shifted between the two.
"And that is?" Rick's pinky rested so close to his mouth it looked like he was chewing on it but too invested in the doctor's words to actually do so.
"Whether to operate on your boy without the respirator." he blinked between the parents, catching my gaze only once in the rapid flickering.
"You said that wouldn't work." Lori sounded as if she was holding her breath while she spoke.
"I know. It's extremely unlikely." his blue eyes flitted between them and Carl. "But we can't wait much longer."
Lori hastily let go of my hand, dropping the hand that was on her husband's shoulder and all but fled from the room.
Rick sat up from his hunched position slowly, watching the doc delicately move Carl's blanket back up over his distended tummy.
Rick attempted to stand but teetered and I grabbed his bicep, giving him the sturdiness he needed to go after his wife, he glanced at me on his way; a look of something between gratitude, and pleading.
I don't know exactly what it was, but I can take a guess.
I watched him leave the room and took his place in the seat beside Carl's bed, taking the boy's unsettlingly cold hand in mine. The dull sting of my scrapes was easy to push out of mind, as long as I stayed with Carl.
I really hope they're not at odds; for Carl's sake, if not their own.
The prospect of losing a child is not something people handle well, and I don't think they should, but I also don't think they should give up on him yet.
Carl's a tough kid, like his parents. Tenacious and unwavering. He won't give up without a fight.
I combed damp brown strands off Carl's cold, sweat-slicked forehead with my long scratched up fingers.
Come on, kid. You've got too much to live for to go now.
The corner of my lip turned up as the memory of Carl falling out of that truck came flooding to the surface. The look on his face, the laugh we had afterwards.
Tell you what, kiddo. When you wake up, I'll teach you how to climb trees. I know it may not look like i'd be the best teacher at the moment, but trust me, this was a fluke.
I could teach you how to do that card trick you like, or maybe we'll recruit Glenn and I'll teach you two how to play blackjack. You can show Glenn what a proper poker face looks like. Sound good?
My tongue darted out, running over my cracked, salty bottom lip to pull it into my mouth where my teeth could rake over it almost painfully.
Rick and Lori came back before long, sitting outside the door just over my shoulder, opposite of the one I came through earlier. From the looks on their faces, they were definitely fighting.
About what, I can't say, but they need to get their shit together because if they don't, I will. And trust me my way won't be pleasant, but it won't be fragile by the time I'm done with it either.
They sat in silence, the only sounds being inhales and exhales of varying degrees from the 4 adults and the one child.
The doctor sat on the other side of Carl's bedside, exchanging glances with me every so often.
I continued to hold Carl's hand, rubbing soothing circles with my thumb, and occasionally using the cloth on the nightstand to dab away the sweat glistening on Carl's forehead.
Silence is something I'm not used to being painful, and heavy. Weighing down on my shoulders like stormclouds around mountains.
A few minutes passed and Carl began coughing. My eyes snapped up from his hand, bugging out of my head as the door behind me opened in less than a second and I had about half that to get out of Rick & Lori's way before they took my place next to Carl.
I stood at the foot of the bed, hands gripping the metal bed frame as I watched his eyes peel open.
"Where are we?" His eyes flicked between the faces in the room.
"Hey, little man. That's Herschel. We're in his house." Rick explained gently. "You had an accident. All right?"
Carl looked down at his stomach, face twisting in pain. "It hurts, a lot"
"Oh, baby. I know. I know" Lori ran her fingers through Carl's hair, moving it around, trying to sooth her baby boy.
"You should have seen it" Carl smiled at his mother.
"What?" she breathed, confused.
"The deer" Carl clarified, fingers tightening and untightening on the rim of the blanket. Carl looked at me and I smiled.
"It was so pretty, mom. It was so close." He looked back at his mom, "I've never been..."
His face went slack and my heart stopped beating.
"Carl?" Rick asked, but there was no answer.
"What's happening?" Lori asked, the panic in the room rising by the millisecond.
Carl suddenly jerked and they both went to grab him but Herschel stopped them, "Don't. It's a seizure. If you hold him down, you could hurt him."
Hershel turned Carl on his side.
"You can't stop it?" they both backed off. My fists clenched so tightly I felt the cuts reopen and begin to bleed, but my nails dug in further. I don't even know when I let go of the frame.
"He has to just go through it" Herschel answered as calmly as he could.
Lori grabbed onto Rick, clinging to him—crying while Carl spasmed on the bed.
My fists tightened beyond white knuckles until my hands began to tingle but didn't loosen even after the seizure passed, and blood was dripping between my fingers.
Herschel looked at Carl's eyes immediately once it was over, and Lori & Rick were back Carl's side in the blink of an eye.
"His brain isn't gettin' enough blood. His pressure's bottoming. He needs another transfusion." Herschel concluded
"Okay I'm ready." Rick stated, holding out his arm.
"If I take any more out of you, your body could shut down. You could go into a coma." That's nothing new. "Or cardiac arrest."
"You're wasting time." Rick almost growled, stretching his arm out farther.
Herschel grabbed a bottle but before he was about to stick the needle into Rick's arm, I pushed Rick's wrist and hiked up my sleeve, holding out mine.
Herschel and the Grimes' looked at me almost accusingly as I stated, "O negative"
Recognition and almost relief flooded Hershel's face.
"It's fortunate you showed up." Herschel didn't hesitate to prep my arm and stick the needle into my skin.
I hate needles, but for Carl's sake, I can put my fear aside.
"What are you doing?" Lori hissed.
"O negative is the universal donor. They can give and receive blood from any type." Herschel answered as he pushed me to sit down next to Rick, in Lori's previous seat.
I watched the red liquid flow through the tube, keeping my thoughts away from the fact I've been impaled and towards the fact that Carl will have more time.
Two blood bags is better than one.
Rick stared at me with gratitude words couldn't express. Lori's expression melting into the same a moment later.
I gave a brief nod in return, putting my free hand on his shoulder to let him know everything was gonna be alright.
Just like Daryl said, It's gonna be just fine.