Blinking awake, I felt like a fucking house fell on me. Seriously, how long would it take to recover fully from a little explosion? I stretched and wanted to scream when I felt the piercing pain shoot through my head. It would hit me at different times and at varying strengths, but Siddiq has promised me that everything seems fine.
"You alright?" It's Daryl, he's moved back to civilization and I'm working very hard to come to terms with it, even if Judith and RJ are excited to have him close. I didn't hear him come to the doorway and I'm alone in bed, so there isn't a fear of him and Negan butting heads.
I nod, even though it causes another sharp thrust of pain to shoot through me, bile rising up from the force of it. "Yeah," I manage to gasp out, "just dealing with waking up."
"If you're feelin' up to it, think Michonne wants to talk to ya, well us." Great, sure, why not?
It had taken far longer than I could process to take care of the aftermath of the satellite crashing than I was aware of with my wonderful accident. I'd managed to get back and revived in time to keep Lydia safe from some fucking morons who see skin masks and make the worst choices known to mankind. It didn't make dealing with migraines from hell easier, but at least I felt marginally useful.
Negan was back to being treated like Negan was treated. Useful as a tool, but not nearly human. Reprieves came and went, but he wasn't redeemed, and I worried he never would be. Hearing that Mom wanted a sit down didn't make me feel warm and fuzzy.
I skipped breakfast and a shower, feeling dizzy and not all that steady enough to stand in a wet stall, I opted for a sponge bath. Deeming myself clean, I dressed and got mentally prepared for the next blow to our lives.
"Wait, what?" I was seated at the dining room table and I had a feeling that my mouth was wide open and I looked like a mouth breather that I would have mocked once upon a time.
"Hordes, constant hordes." Michonne repeated. She sat back looking exhausted and I wondered how I missed it. The sounds of the walking dead alone usually hit me like a brick, and then a sharp stab of pain went through my head and I realized I'd been a tad preoccupied with my own shit. "We went out and met her- Alpha." I stared, thinking of that horrible thing that had killed so many in such a horrible fucking display of monstrousness. "She's redrawn the boundaries. Our hunting territory is-" She sighed and I groaned. Fuck.
"What's the plan?" I was met with silence. "We have a plan, don't we?" Nothing. Just silence as she and Daryl sat at the table.
I went for a walk, alone. The hordes were being fought almost constantly. Keeping them back, away from our gates and people was paramount to safety on multiple levels. I went to the gate, the same gate that once upon a time Negan had walked me through as his prize, that my dad, Carl, and I had walked through as a united front to join the community. Nodding to the guard that I wanted to leave, showing them proof that I was armed, I slid through the sliver they opened.
I could hear them now, outside, the growling moans. At a distance, far enough that I felt comfortable moving off around the edge of Alexandria. Thinking of Carl and Enid, how they would go off on their own outings. Of Enid's balloons, and her alarms. Stories that my little brother told me while I wore a mask of my own.
I wandered through the trees, thinking of how far we'd come, how much we lost. Amy, Sofia, Dale, Jacqui,T-Dog, Lori, Andrea, Merle,Hershel, Carl, Dad, and Wren...not to mention everyone that Alpha snuffed out in one go. I knew I was leaving names out, names that I knew and that mattered, but names that I couldn't say. We found people too, I reminded myself. Michonne, Ezekiel, Morgan, Aaron, and Negan even if no one but me would consider him a diamond. Judith and RJ, Hershel, Grace and the other babies that came into the world as the world was going mad couldn't be discounted either.
Walking further and further, I wasn't paying attention to the path or the noises around me, knowing that my muscle memory and intuition would let me know if danger approached. It was how I'd survived thus far, after all. I moved through the trees, the shadows a welcome respite for my aching head, convincing myself that they were the reason my vision was slightly blurred. I wobbled a bit because the ground was littered with stumps and limbs that had fallen covered by leaves and trash.
A throbbing thud began, and I chuckled thinking that I was so out of shape that my heartbeat was growing louder in my ears. And then darkness hit me, my sight gone, a metallic taste flooded my mouth and the scent of earth and rot filled my nostrils.
I felt like I was floating and then I was being tugged and pulled this way and that. Murmured voices, that same throbbing thud, rhythmic and constant growing closer and making no sense. The pain in my head was at a fevered pitch and I prayed for it to end, not knowing if that meant a REAL END. Feeling a pinch in my arm, then another odd taste in the back of my throat, the pain started to recede, the voices echoed and nothing made any greater sense than it had before.
Hours passed, the same level of numbness, the same echoing tint of noise, but then as the rhythm of the thudding seemed to slow, I heard it. Something I'd thought I'd never hear again. A voice from my not so distant past.
"Jessi?!"
It couldn't be, I thought, even as I felt more tugging and pulling. He was dead. Dead and gone. I'd told Daryl and Mom so many times. Yet, as the tugging and pulling continued, the voice was closer, pressed against my temple. "Thank god, Jessi." And a soft kiss, and I was sure I was as dead as he was.
