Note: Thanks to that special guest for the review! I really appreciate it! Sorry for the lack of updates. My muse is very tricky, she runs from one fandom to another and TWD hasn't gotten much of my love lately. But thanks for hanging in there! I also appreciate the hits/favs/watches! Much love guys!
Relapsing Withdrawal
First Arc: Act Two
The heat from the fleece blanket above her head proved too much. With a single swoop, Heather threw her arm upward and forward, relieving the warmth from her body. Ah, better. She felt her eyelids flicker open next, the obvious feeling of the hard shag carpet beneath her exposed skin reminding her that she was not in her bed. Ah, that's right.
"You girls share the living room. I'm sure you two won't cause me any problems, yes?"
Well, while it wasn't her bed, adorned with Lion King bed sheets and quilts, it was better than that cramped truck Kenny had them sleeping in. The bed of that truck left bruises on her back that she was sure would be permanent!
…if bruises could be permanent. Which they couldn't.
Whatever.
Oh if there was one thing she wished she had from home it would be that stupid lion quilt. Sure she was a bit too old to have it, so said society, but it was so warm and fluffy! Not to mention it was her favorite. Damn.
Heather released a sigh, eyes moving to her right side. Where was that sister of hers? Hm, must be outside talking with Kenny. Now where was her backpack? Her eyes scanned the small area she had been lying in, between the end table and couch, when she found the overstuffed Jockey bag.
Ah, good. Was it a good idea to check and double check what was inside? After all, who knows who could have gone through her shit during the night? After all, she slept like a log! Hell she was even sure she probably gave Rye a few kicks and punches sometime during their slumber. Why not? She had the extra time and plus, if she could make a bit more space in the sack, maybe she could rummage through Hershel's medicine cabinet to see if there was anything worth 'borrowing'.
The former teacher's aide reached forward and took the sag by the tattered handle and pulled it toward her chest. One long zip later, she found herself looking into the belly of the messy beast. Hm, everything looked intact. Empty water bottles (x2), tampons and pads, over the counter pain killers, notebooks, pencils and finally what was left of the anti-anxiety pills and depression aids.
Damn, who knew that Rye taking her Gabapentin three times a day, combined with the use of Prozac could dwindle their supply so fast! Sure Rye had been prescribed the meds before the apocalypse but again who knew, when you really sat down and thought about it, how much she was really taking. The younger of the two had overheard from several doctors that Rye's dosage was large given her age but she wouldn't have guessed that it was really so much.
It also didn't help that before the end of the world she had been taking Prozac as well. Not as much as her sister but she had been taking a decent sized dosage several weeks ago. And by this point, she was running out of her pills. It was startin' to show too.
"Fuck." She muttered to herself as she lifted two large pill containers in her hands and held them to the dim living room light.
Dare she think or play the 'guess how many jellybeans are in the jar game' with herself? Haha, yeah she was really starting to lose it.
By her quick eye count she had about two days' worth of her own Prozac pills. Heather gazed down to her sister's much bigger supply and frowned. Ah hell, Rye needed it more than she did.
"Might as well."
With a quick press to the child-proof lock, twist and pop she opened her diminishing supply of meds and set it aside for the time being. Repeating the process with Rye's larger pill bottle, Heather returned to her container and proceeded to pour what was left of her medications into her older sister's.
She'll never tell the difference, especially when I'm the one handing out the pills.
After all, being depressed wasn't her biggest issue right now. Heather reached deeper down inside the backpack until her fingertips touched a familiar square-shaped bottle. Much smaller than the everyday generic pill bottles the pharmacists' gave out, it had come straight from the factory was slapped with her name and due dosage and prescribed just for her.
She pulled the container out and tucked it toward her chest. With a sigh her eyes danced over the bold letters written on the label.
Abilify.
Not much left.
"Oh good morning Heather!"
The sound of a very unfamiliar voice made her sit up straight and shove her hands back into the safety of the backpack. Her head whipped around to see Shawn descending the stairs with a rather happy look on his face. What was with the chipper mood? Ah well, if he was feeling optimistic, it wasn't a bad thing.
"H-hey. How's it goin'?" She asked, eyes still on the male but her hands working on stuffing all the meds back into the bag.
"Not bad. How did you sleep?" He made his way toward her.
With the bag was re-stuffed, Heather zipped it up and pushed it out of visible sight. Trying her best to present her best grin, she smiled at him. That didn't look weird or anything, stuffing all of her things back into her bag the moment he came into the room! Nope! Didn't look suspicious or anything!
Play this off Matthews.
"Not bad. Back is a little sore but I'm okay." She nodded once. "How are you? Where's the old man?"
He chuckled, the sound of him making her nerves ease up. "Outside of course. I'm going out there right now to make sure we get started on that fence. He doesn't want to hear about it but it's pretty important."
"He doesn't? Why?" She asked, getting up from off the floor to meet her housemate.
"That old farmer pride I guess." Shawn gave a single shrug of his shoulders. "I brought it up last night but he didn't care for the idea." He then shifted his weight to his left leg. "I'm putting one up anyhow. He'll thank me later."
"It's not a bad idea." She managed to crack a smile. "I'll help if you want."
"Thanks. The more hands the better." Almost as if something had dawned on him, he snapped the fingers of his right hand and stiffened his posture. "Oh! I almost forgot. We have new visitors. I found the two in the suburbs late last night. They seem nice enough."
Visitors?
"Just how many are there?"
"Two." He answered in simple, relaxed tone. "A gentleman and a little girl."
Wait, he was describing them as if they weren't related. "She's not his daughter?" He nodded. "Oh, that's a little weird. Did he seem okay? I mean was she okay with him? It wasn't all creepy?"
"No not at all." Shawn shook his head, his smile still intact. "He told me he was found her alone in a treehouse. Apparently her parents are on a trip out of town or something. Either way she's kind of alone. Besides Lee that is."
Lee, huh? So that's the guy's name. "By herself? That has to be hard. I couldn't imagine being without my mom and dad at that age. She must be really scared." Her head dipped.
"Lee seems like a really nice guy. I heard them talking about getting down to Savannah to find her parents." He continued, the look of hope on his features fading away. "It's a long shot but they're both in good spirits."
Looking for her parents? That was a long shot. What were the odds that they'd ever find two people in a city that large? Add to the fact that there was flesh, face-eating zombies roaming the streets! What were the chances? Like zero? Geez. This guy wasn't lying to this girl and getting her hopes up, was he? Hm.
"That's a really bad idea actually." Heather felt the frank words fall from her lips faster than she could contain them. "He's getting her hopes up for nothing. I mean you don't honestly think her parents are alive do you?"
His dark eyes shifted away from her. "I couldn't say."
"Hell, at this point I'm pretty sure my old man and lady are dead." Her heart froze. Damn, her mouth worked way faster than her heart and brain. Did she really just say something so…cruel?
And to be so cruel to herself. How could she say something like that? To a total stranger as well! What the fuck was wrong with her? Maybe skipping a few odd days of her meds wasn't helping her mood. Shit, even the moment her ears heard what she said it hurt. Stupid.
"Don't say things like that." His stern tone caught her off guard. "You never know. You have to stay positive."
The urge to tell him to 'fuck off' came into her mind but soon left. Why start an argument now? Besides, it wasn't his fault. It was hers. She was the one with the big mouth and no filter. That all went without mentioning that he and his father did supply her and her sister a place to stay for the night. What kind of guest would she be if she gave him the bird?
"I…yeah I understand." She fought back the urge to say anything further.
Had she become desensitized to death at this point? After everything she and Rye had seen, was anything different now? Seeing so many corpses, still and walking alike, it was completely different than the one time they found a dead cat by the park stream.
(Or the time when she was eight and played 'golf' with a white dead rat they found behind their apartment building.)
"Hey Shawn."
Here goes nothing.
"What's on your mind, Heather?" He answered her right away, making his way around the end table and closer toward her and the couch.
"You know how this is a farm, right?" What a great way to start a conversation. Ugh, so stupid! "Well, you know and I know that this is a farm so can I ask you a question?"
He laughed again. "Shoot."
"How many times have you had to put down an animal? Like a cow or something?" Her heart ached as more uncomfortable words came out of her mouth.
"Plenty." He answered back faster than she expected and in a tone that she found far more calm and relaxing than she thought from him. Given the question of course. "Cows are pretty delicate. Horses too for that matter. So it's happened here before."
"Oh." Her gut twisted. "Did you feel bad when it happened? I mean when you had to."
He exhaled through his lips, eyes finding a different object in the room to land on. "I remember this one time I had to put down the family dog." Her breathing hitched but he continued nonetheless, "He was really old and suffering. Toward the end his back legs weren't working right and it was really difficult to watch him try and walk."
She felt a drop of sweat move from her forehead down her cheek and to her chin. Did he know? He couldn't know something like that! They just met…
"So I took him to the vet and had him put down." Shawn finally looked back to her. A small smile crossed his cheeks and his brows wore heavy over his eyes. "It was really hard but I had to do it. He was going to die either way but I couldn't let him suffer. I did what I knew was right. Even though it was hard."
"Oh…"
"You have to know when to call it quits sometimes." He went on, taking a step closer to her. "But I know you get that."
"Yeah." Her head dropped even as his hand landed on her shoulder. "Sorry. About your dog I mean."
"Thanks." He allowed his charming smile to widen. "And I'm sorry too. For whatever it was you had to do."
"I…"
"I better be getting outside. Dad's waiting for me. And I bet your sister is waiting for you too. Let's get out there together, okay?" He said tightening his grip on her shoulder for a short second.
Before she could reply he released her from his gentle grip and walked forward toward the exiting door. He didn't stop to wait for her and instead let himself out into the morning light. Only the moment his silhouette disappeared from sight, did she move at all.
She closed the distance between herself and the door within seconds and only stopped to fix her crazy morning hair. And while she'd rather have her usual tub of hair gel to help fix all of her loose ends, she had to make do with what she had. Nothing.
Ah well.
It wasn't like she had anyone to impress. The world didn't care much at this point anymore. So, neither did she.
Act End.
