Isaac was living his nightmare—well, it would have been a nightmare if he could have gotten any sleep. He got a corner cell to himself, which meant that he didn't have to be surrounded by sick people on either side of him. It was just Glenn who took the cell next door and constantly checked up on him, which made Isaac nauseous.
His compulsions were the worst part of it. The overthinking meant that he always had to check for signs of a new illness, because being sick meant that everyone had weaker immune systems, making it easier to pass new germs to him. The problem was, that he couldn't tell if anything new had arisen because the flu was killing him. He was always sweating, always coughing; sometimes blood came up and he wished he would just die.
Sleep was kept away from him with a mixture of checking for new illnesses, constantly washing his hands and the fact that his skin was crawling. Isaac assumed that the soap he was using had been drying out whatever skin was left on his hands, making them itchy. That, and who could sleep with two dozen sick people coughing throughout the night?
It got bad when he saw Sasha and Hershel needing to drag a body out before it was too late and the person turned. Isaac appreciated that Hershel was pulling them away, doing it away from the rest of the sick ward so they didn't see. Not everyone would have caught on that people had died, but all Isaac could do was keep track. He heard all the conversations next door, people's conditions, whether Hershel thought they'd be alive tomorrow.
Hershel seemed fine, too. He didn't look sick or ill. Sure, he could still be a carrier after being in there for so long, but Isaac was less worried about catching a second sickness from him than he was about anyone else.
Especially Glenn.
Isaac was worried that Glenn wouldn't last another night. He looked terrible, as bad as Isaac felt. At that moment, Isaac had zero care about whether Glenn would survive, but he was worried about him dying before Ace returned. If he was sure of one thing, it was that Glenn's death would probably kill her—if she wasn't dead already.
Isaac was unlucky enough to survive the night, and he had to keep living through this hell. It would have been better if he could shut his brain off and let it go, but no matter what he did, his mind was always racing, always making him think the worst things. He was going to die here, scared and alone.
Ace was not coming back with the medication. She was dead, she was dead, she was dead. There was no way that she was alive. It had been too long, way too long. They were never going to come back with the meds, and 75 percent of the group would die another night.
When Isaac had exhausted himself, he was able to sit still on the bed for longer than five minutes. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall, letting out a long breath through his nose. It was getting harder and harder to breathe through his face mask.
"Isaac?"
Glenn stopped when he saw Isaac for the first time that morning. He was paler than anyone he'd seen in the cellblock, bags under his eyes. Glenn struggled to get any sleep, but he knew Isaac had probably been awake for two days at this point.
It was worse when Glenn saw his hands, out of the gloves for the first time he knew of. His hands were cracked, skin broken to the point of leaking blood down his wrists.
"You're bleeding," Glenn knew the words were wrong the second they came out of his mouth because Isaac's eyes shot open.
"No, no, no," he held up his hands and shot up from the cot, spinning around until he saw the cloth on the top of the cell. He grabbed it and covered the cuts on his hands, before looking around for the bottle of water he was given.
"Hey, calm down, okay?" Glenn said, taking a step closer to him but Isaac jumped back. Glenn stopped immediately and raised his hands. "We'll get you cleaned up, okay? Just calm down."
Isaac kneeled down, grabbing the bottle of water he constantly had to refill to wash his hands. He put some soap on his hands and started pouring the water over them and rubbing his hands together to clean them. When he was done, he grabbed the scratchy towel and started wiping the blood away, wincing as he did so.
"How many times have you washed your hands?"
Isaac shook his head, knowing that the answer would lead to more security, and more people being sent his way to ensure that he didn't hurt himself anymore. He didn't even realise it was this bad, the bleeding only stopping recently.
Glenn opened his mouth to say something else, but Hershel calling his name stopped him. "Glenn! I need your help!"
Glenn nodded and turned back to Isaac. "Don't wash your hands again, keep the towel on them and I'll be back."
Hershel nodded his head for Glenn to follow him out of the cell, and he did. Isaac had seen and heard too much, and while Hershel didn't know what was going on, he knew that hearing about someone else's problem wasn't going to be good for his anxiety.
"What is it?" Glenn asked as they got further away.
"Henry, he's starting to choke on his blood. We need to put a bag down his throat but he isn't going for it," Hershel said. "I need your and Sasha's help."
It had taken some effort to get the pipe down Henry's throat so they could help him breathe, but they all sat around him on the ground as Hershel squeezed the bag every few seconds. He was curious about how Glenn had found Isaac, but he had to push those thoughts away.
He couldn't think about that now, they had to focus on Henry and then make the rounds to check on everyone else around the prison. As he squeezed the bag and Henry moved his head to the ground, Glenn and Sasha started coughing. They were both rough, both sounded like they were on their last legs, and the coughing made their chests sore.
"Drink some of that. Both of you," he demanded.
Hershel left the prison the day before and grabbed herbs that he thought would help the sick people get better, some remedies he learned about. He'd been giving it to everyone around the cellblock, having the hardest time with Isaac.
Glenn grabbed the drink first, the warm drink helping his chest clear up for a second so they could stop coughing. He leaned forward over Henry and handed the cup to Sasha, so she could take a drink herself.
"Some council meeting, huh?" Hershel asked.
"We're two members short," Sasha groaned, sitting back against the wall.
"I think we should make some new rules before they get back." Hershel glanced at each of them before he said, "I hereby declare we have spaghetti Tuesdays every Wednesday. First, we have to find some spaghetti."
Hershel made himself chuckle. Sasha sent him a look, appreciating the joke but in no mood or state to be able to laugh at it. Glenn was in the same boat, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees as he panted.
Hershel straightened up and turned to Sasha. "You okay to take over?"
She nodded, leaning forward.
"Every five to six seconds, squeeze. You start feeling lightheaded, grab somebody else to take over. We'll take it in shifts," Hershel promised. When he saw that Sasha was doing okay (as good as he could be while dying), he looked at Glenn. "You want to help me go on my rounds?"
"Yeah. Sure." Glenn used the cage bar of the door to pull himself to his feet but stopped Hershel before he could get too far away. "How long will that keep him alive?"
"Just as long as we're willing to do it," Hershel answered honestly. "As long as it takes."
Glenn followed Hershel out of the cell as Sasha started coughing, and he winced. It sounded bad, and Glenn was starting to get worried about how long it was taking for Ace and Daryl to get back to them with the meds.
In one of the cages, lying on one of the beds they saw one of their people dead, Mr. Jacobson. He was lying on his bed with blood coming from his eyes and mouth. Glenn and Hershel entered the cell, and as Hershel placed a bag down, Glenn pulled out his knife.
"No," Hershel whispered harshly, grabbing his hand. "Not here."
Glenn watched as Hershel walked away, and put his knife back in the holster. Hershel came back a few seconds later with a gurney and rolled it into the cage where Glenn was standing, looking at the other people around.
"Help me get him on this," Hershel said.
"Okay," Glenn nodded. "But in a couple of hours when Henry's dead—"
"Glenn," Hershel interrupted him.
"How are we gonna get his body down the stairs, across the cell block and through those doors without anyone noticing?" Glenn finished.
"If that happens—if—you're gonna help me," Hershel said, pointing at him.
"And what if I'm gone?"
"Shut up," Hershel said, "and help me get him on this."
They covered the body with a sheet, struggled to lift him onto the gurney and rolled Mr. Jacobson out of the cage and towards the two doors at the front of the cellblock, away from the people, when a small voice stopped them.
"What are you doing?" Lizzie asked.
"We're taking Mr. Jacobson to a quieter place." He took a step towards Lizzie and placed the back of his hand against her forehead. "Go get my copy of "Tom Sawyer" from my room. I want you to read it by tonight. We all got jobs to do. That one's yours."
Lizzie let out a small cough, and said, "I won't finish it."
"Why?" Hershel asked. "It's gonna get too dark."
"Well, give it your best try," Hershel said. She took a second, nodded and turned around, continuing to cough as she walked away. "And drink some tea."
When they were in the clear, Hershel helped Glenn roll the body out through the doors and into the first room before the cellblock. Hershel pulled out a small bible, saying a few words while Glenn held his knife in his hands. He spun it around and looked at it for a second, but waited patiently for Hershel to finish what he was doing in silence.
When he was done, he looked at Hershel. "You haven't had to do this yet, have you?"
"There was one late last night," Hershel said. "Sasha did it. People don't need to see it. I don't want them to."
As Mr. Jacobson began to wake up, Glenn pushed him down by the shoulder and stabbed him in the head, taking him out before any commotion could be made.
"Hershel," Glenn looked up, but as he went to say what he wanted, he started coughing. "Maggie, she might be out there. I . . . I said I'd meet her, but I don't want her to see me like this."
"I'll go and talk to her," Hershel said. "Wait for me in the cellblock."
And Glenn did wait, listening as closely as he could from the door of the cellblock as Hershel entered the meeting room with glass windows so they could see and hear each other. The conversation was faint, but he listened closely.
"Where's Glenn?" Maggie asked almost immediately. Glenn could hear the wavering in his voice, and it didn't occur to him that Hershel going out there might make her think he had died. "He said he would meet me."
"He's resting."
"Is he okay?"
"He was helping me and he got tired, that's all," Hershel said.
"If you need help, I can help you."
"I don't. I was just keeping him occupied," Hershel lied. "Keeping his mind on helping people."
"I can come in there and help you," Maggie repeated.
"No, you don't need to."
"You can rest, dad—"
"No!" Hershel snapped, cutting her off, and Glenn winced.
She couldn't see him, she couldn't see him. Glenn knew that if Maggie saw him, even for a second, she would never leave. The fences were in bad shape and as far as he knew, she, Carol and Rick were the only ones out there anymore.
They talked about Beth before Maggie started offering to help again. "They could return any minute now," Hershel said, but all that did was remind Glenn that Ace was out there. "It's hard in here. But we're holding it together. We're gonna make it. Don't you believe that?"
"Of course," Maggie whispered.
"Just hold it together a little longer. Please?" Hershel asked. "I love you, honey."
"I love you, too."
Glenn listened for the footsteps, whether it was Hershel coming to join them or Maggie leaving, either one would mean that he was in the clear. The door creaked open and Glenn pushed himself away from the wall as Hershel entered the cellblock.
"Thank you for stopping her."
"We need someone out there taking care of things," Hershel said.
Glenn nodded and leaned his head back against the wall. "If she saw me, couldn't keep her out. I know you didn't want to lie to her."
"I wasn't lying," Hershel said, acting offended. "Look at you. You're resting."
They both chuckled, and Glenn sent him a smile.
"I'm almost done down here," Hershel said.
Glenn stopped him before he could say anything else, holding up his hand. "When you are done with everyone down here, you need to help Isaac."
Hershel gave a nod and asked, "How is he?"
Glenn shook his head. "I don't even know where to start."
"Tell me everything," Hershel said.
He took a second to think everything over and started explaining how he's been. "He's really bad, coughing all the time. He can barely breathe but he won't take off the mask, he just switches it for a new one every couple of hours."
"They get oversaturated," Hershel said. "He's probably panicking about catching something else."
"That's not it," Glenn shook his head. "He won't drink the tea, he hasn't slept in two days, hasn't eaten anything because it's been in here with us," he waved a hand around at the other people and himself. "He's washed his hands so many times they're all cracked and dry, he's bleeding so he's washing the blood away."
Glenn burst out into a fit of coughs from his rambling. It reminded Hershel of Ace when she got started on a topic or got really worried about something. The two were definitely rubbing off on each other.
"I think he's in a lot of pain," Glenn finished.
"We could get some lotion in here, moisturiser," Hershel said. "I might even have some in the first aid kit."
"It'll be no good if he just keeps washing it off," Glenn said. "Until we get out of here, he's just going to keep hurting himself. And I'm worried that he'll get worse. I think we need to keep more of an eye on him, but we can't keep doing that with everyone around here . . ." Glenn trailed off.
"I know," Hershel agreed. "I didn't want to bring him in here if he got sick, but I can't go anywhere else and put anyone else at risk. If he's somewhere else and he gets worse we won't know that he's dying . . . he has to be here."
"I know, I know," Glenn nodded.
"Help me finish my rounds, and then we'll talk to him," Hershel said. "Worst comes to worse, we'll have to make him sit with one of us so we can constantly keep an eye on him."
Glenn shook his head. "I doubt he's gonna go for that. Seeing the way he is now, I'm surprised we even got him in here."
Glenn followed Hershel as they finished the rounds, they walked back up the stairs to visit Isaac. They checked in on Sasha on the way, making sure she was still good to help Henry before heading to Isaac's cell at the top corner of the block.
Isaac was back on his bed, his hands wrapped up in a different, clean cloth, and Glenn noticed the bloody one just outside of the cell.
"Isaac," Hershel said. "Can I take a look at your hands?"
Isaac shook his head, pulling his arms closer to himself so Hershel couldn't get a look. Hershel took another step into the cell and took a seat on the edge of his bed,
"Do they hurt?"
Isaac nodded.
"Then I need to look at them, son."
"Isaac, he's going to help you," Glenn said, his chest hurting as he held down a cough, trying to make Isaac more comfortable.
Isaac sighed, holding his arms out from his body and towards Hershel. Hershel moved closer to him on the bed, dragging his medical bag with him and pulling the cloth away from his hands, the motion itself making Isaac wince in pain.
"Oh my God," Hershel said. "You should've told someone about this."
Isaac only coughed into the mask, and Hershel had to refrain from reaching forward and pulling it away from his face. That would be another problem he would have to tackle in the short timeframe he could spend with Isaac.
"Is there any chance I can get you to drink the tea?" Hershel asked and Isaac shook his head. "It'll help you."
Another head shake.
"Son, I haven't been exposed to anything that you don't have already," Hershel said. "You need to drink something at least. Do you have water?"
Isaac pointed to a bottle on the table, different to the one that Glenn had seen him washing his hands with. There was still a puddle on the ground near the cell door where Isaac had been continually cleaning his hands.
Hershel reached forward and grabbed his bottle before handing it to him. Isaac pulled the mask down, just under his chin, and took small sips of his water before pulling the mask back up over his face.
"Can you have lotion on your skin?" Hershel asked.
Another nod.
"Put your hands forward," Hershel reached into his bag and pulled out a small bottle of hand sanitizer, before rubbing small spots of it into his hand so it wouldn't work as much. Isaac winced as some touched his skin. "I'm sorry, but this has to stop."
"I was using sanitizer," Isaac said. "But it started to burn."
"I'm not surprised," Hershel nodded. "You need to find a way to stop yourself from doing this, son."
Isaac shook his head. "No, no, I—"
"I'll never understand what you were feeling right now, but if you keep this up, you're going to get worse," Hershel said. "You could get an infection from these cuts."
"I just . . . I can't stop it! I just keep thinking that—" Isaac choked off the end of his sentence, his hands coming up to his face as he shook his head. "I can't stop thinking. I just want it to stop. It won't stop."
"I'm sorry, son. I can't imagine what that's like."
Glenn couldn't either. He didn't realise it could get that bad, to the point where Isaac couldn't turn off his brain. If he was always thinking about it, always thinking about getting sicker, always thinking that he was going to die, always thinking about—sure, Glenn had been worried about those things, but clearly, he'd been getting off easy.
"But you have to stop doing this," Hershel continued. "You've ruined the integrity of the barrier on your hands. You're going to keep hurting yourself and it'll get infected. We won't be able to treat that without antibiotics, and the others aren't back yet."
Isaac pulled his arms back down as he continued coughing into his mask. "That's why—" more coughing. "That's why I'm wearing this."
Hershel nodded for him to continue.
"So, if I cough, I don't get any more germs on my hands," Isaac said. "It isn't working, it isn't. I can't stop it."
"You're exhausted, you can't sleep or eat," Hershel said. "This isn't going to help. What if I bandaged them?"
"Germs get on cloth, I cough up blood, I—"
"We can put gloves over the top so the bandages don't get anything on them," Hershel finished.
"Would you keep any of that on?" Glenn asked, sceptical.
Isaac had gloves on and off all the time to wash his hands whenever he thought they got dirty, and he could just rip off bandages as quickly as he could gloves. They wouldn't know because they had to watch other people.
Isaac shook his head. "No, I couldn't."
"Could we tape them on?" Glenn asked.
"Glenn," Hershel scolded in a hushed voice.
"It's a genuine question. I'm sorry, Isaac, but you have to find a way to stop this," Glenn said. "If you can't stop it yourself then we have to do something, and I think this is the only way to help you. You wouldn't be able to get the tape off with gloves on, and no germs would get in."
"Not medical tape," Isaac said quickly. "Cloth on the top can get blood and germs on."
"But we can tape them on?" Hershel asked, now slightly convinced.
"Duct tape?"
Isaac thought for a second and nodded.
"We won't put so much on your skin, just tape the gloves down over the top," Hershel said. "It'll irritate you more. But this is the only way we can stop you getting an infection before Miss Daniels gets back with the others."
"Miss Daniels?" Isaac stopped.
"Ace," Glenn cut in. "Ace Daniels."
"Okay," Isaac breathed out, nodding at both the new information and the gloves.
"Okay," Hershel said. "I'll get the things."
Isaac was glad when they left, but was losing his mind with gloves taped around his wrists. The first thing he tried was to get them off, but his gloved fingers could not get the duct tape to lift from the rubber material.
When they had taken care of him, Hershel and Glenn left. Hershel needed to check on more people and Glenn was in the middle cells of the upper floor taking over for Sasha in his turn to keep Henry alive. Isaac heard him talking for a few moments.
Hershel checked on Dr. S first, shocked to see the blood coming from his mouth and eyes. Dr. S wouldn't let Hershel help him. They both knew where it was going, and Caleb sent Hershel away to slowly accept his fate. He would not live without the medication at this point, and Ace's group was not back.
Caleb spoke about how everyone was going to die, and that they couldn't help them, but Hershel was not going to believe it. If they could keep Henry breathing, he would live. Many other people would live if he could just keep helping them.
After a very unhopeful conversation with Dr. S, Hershel started locking people in their cells so he could check on them in an hour. Conditions were getting worse, and there was no way he could leave their cells open.
It surprised him. Isaac still looked the worst that he'd seen around the cellblock, still paler than everyone, covered in sweat and looking like he'd die at any moment, but people's conditions had caught up to him and Isaac was holding on longer than Hershel could have imagined.
"Drink the tea I left you," he said, closing the cell on one of the more elderly men. "Gonna be back to check on you in an hour."
As the door slammed closed, a younger one was coughing as he walked around, blood covering his face. For a moment, Hershel couldn't determine whether the man was a walker or not, until he hit his head on one of the caged bars and fell onto the ground, continuing to choke on his blood.
Hershel rolled him onto his side, but it was too late at that point, and everyone in the cell block had come around to see. Hershel looked up at all of them who had now seen the man dead and didn't really know what to do.
"Everyone, get back in your cells," Hershel said. "Go on, get back in your cells."
Sasha pulled the gurney over, panting as she struggled to lower it. "Let's get him on this."
They pulled him up and put a sheet over him.
"Go rest," Hershel said. "Can you make it to your cell?"
Sasha nodded, unsure because it meant that Hershel would have to put down the body himself. He rolled him out to the meeting room and stopped just in front of the window. He took a moment, pulled out his knife and stood at the head of the body.
When he pulled up his knife and looked down at his face, he couldn't do it. He couldn't look at his face and do it. He reached forward, pulled the sheet back up and over his head and held the knife up before stabbing it down.
Hershel took a moment to get over the shock of it, trying to remind him that he was already dead and defacing him at this point was necessary. He couldn't protect everyone if there was a walker, couldn't keep them alive.
"Hershel," Rick called.
"Third one we've lost. We're burning them behind the blocks. Burning them. That's what it's come to."
"Are you okay?"
"I talked to him yesterday about Steinbeck. He told me a quote. 'A sad soul can kill quicker than a germ.'"
"Should tell that one to Isaac," Rick tried to joke.
Hershel chuckled but had no energy to explain to Rick what Isaac's condition was. "That's exactly why I didn't want them all to see what happens. I know they know, but I didn't want them to see it right now."
"They're seeing you, Hershel," Rick said. "They see you keep going, even after all the choices keep getting taken away." Rick went quiet, trying to think of what to say next, glancing off to the side before he spoke. "When we get past this thing . . . it's not gonna be like how it was, is it?"
"No."
Rick breathed out a sigh and spun around. "Was that denial? Not seeing things for how they were?"
"No," Hershel said as a matter of fact. "You just caught a break. You needed some time, you got some. You got lucky. We all did. I still think there's a plan. I still believe there's a reason."
"You think it's all a test?" Rick asked.
"Life was always a test, Rick," Hershel said.
Rick leaned against the window, looking down for a second as he breathed out again. When he looked up, he said, "I need to talk to you about Carol."
After his conversation with Rick, Hershel found Sasha on the ground in her cell. He grabbed her pillow from the bed and put it under her to make her more comfortable before pinching the skin above her hand. When the skin didn't fall back down, he grabbed one of his few IVs, got some water in it and held it above her until she came around.
"Welcome back."
"I passed out?" She asked.
"You were dehydrated," Hershel said. "Being a hero takes a lot out of you."
"You should know," she slurred. "I thought you were an idiot to come in here. I mean, I was sure you were just gonna be a dead foolish man."
"I can't tell if that's a compliment," Hershel joked.
"I don't know what I'm saying. I must have hit my head," Hershel gave a smile as she continued. "I don't believe in magic or luck. I do the math and I don't gamble. But I don't know if I'd be here right now if you weren't so damn stupid," she chuckled.
"You know what?" Hershel asked. "I'm gonna take that as a compliment."
Up in Henry's cell, Glenn leaned forward to check his pulse. Henry was dead, and they had to try and get him out of the cellblock without anyone else seeing as Hershel wanted. As he went to call out for him, he started sputtering and coughing blood.
"Hersh—" more coughing.
Isaac heard it from his cell, grabbing his hair when he realised that no one was going to hear Glenn, and it sounded worse than the normal coughs. Glenn was dying a few cells down and Hershel wasn't going to hear. He was going to lose his son-in-law. Maggie, her husband. And Ace—
Ace.
His eyes widened as he sat forward, listening to Glenn who now sounded like he was choking on his blood. It was bad, but he continued trying to call out, but his voice did not carry. He was heaving, heaving, gasping for air.
If he died, Ace would die.
Not only that, but Glenn had been taking care of him for the past few days, giving him everything he needed to feel comfortable in a room full of people he currently hated. Glenn was one of the reasons Isaac hadn't been found dead on the ground already. He couldn't let him go out like this.
He pushed himself to his feet, stopping at his cell door for a second, his anxiety not letting him go any further. If he died he would turn, someone near him was dead and they would turn. Isaac would have to be around dead people to help Glenn.
He shook his head and ran out. Around the corner he saw Lizzie standing there, just staring at Glenn who gasped for air on the ground, half out of the cell. He didn't have the time to think about it, why she was just standing there and not helping him. Maybe she was scared.
"Lizzie!" Isaac coughed as he yelled. "MOVE!"
Isaac dropped to the ground in front of Glenn, trying to remember any first aid courses from school, but none of them ever talked about what to do if he couldn't breathe because his lungs were full of blood. Glenn needed a ventilator, and currently, they were out of stock.
"Oh, God," he muttered to himself. "Please don't die, you can't die."
What Glenn really needed was to be held upside down. Cystic fibrosis patients had machines to suspend them upside down so their lungs didn't fill up with mucus and they could keep breathing, but Isaac couldn't just dangle him over the edge either.
Isaac was so focused on trying to figure out how to save Glenn without touching him, he didn't see Henry's hand move, but Lizzie did.
"Hershel," she called out, but suddenly became more alert and yelled, "Hershel!"
Isaac looked up and he saw it, but he couldn't move. He reached forward for Glenn's knife as Henry started to stand up, but he couldn't get it past Glenn's body. He couldn't reach it and he didn't want to go into the cell to get it.
Isaac wondered why Hershel never came, but he looked down over the railing to see that a woman had died and was not on Hershel. One of the men came out of the cell to shoot it, but his son followed him out and bit him on the arm. A woman came out of her cell to grab the walker and pull her away from Hershel, but when she got the body off of him, The man with the gun being bitten let off a shot and fired into her face.
"Fuck," Isaac whispered and looked back to see Henry starting to get up.
"Henry," Lizzie called, and the walker looked her way. He opened his mouth to stop her, but Lizzie held out her hand to stop him. He took a step back and Henry ignored him and Glenn on the ground, following Lizzie. "Come on."
He wanted to stop her, to get the knife and help her, but the wheezing on the ground beside him brought his mind back to Glenn, whose eyes had closed as his breathing started to get weaker. Pressing his fingers against the artery on his neck, he felt Glenn's pulse had started to slow and was very faint. He was going to die. Isaac had to do something quickly.
He considered CPR, but all that would do was pump the blood around making sure oxygen would get to his brain, which was helpful if he managed to get oxygen into his lungs, which was the problem right now.
Footsteps pounded up the stairs behind him, and he looked back to see Hershel. He wanted to call out for his help until he noticed that Lizzie was screaming, Henry had caught her and was trying to take a bite. Hershel didn't notice them as he ran to save Lizzie, pushing Henry over the edge as he landed on a mesh that hung in the air.
And Glenn's gasping slowed again. "Fuck, no, no!"
Isaac knew what he had to do, and he didn't like it one bit. He needed to get air into his lungs so he could breathe, push his lungs out and make more surface area for gas to exchange. He needed mouth-to-mouth.
Isaac tentatively put a hand under Glenn's chin and lifted his head backwards to open his airways. He tried to ignore the blood that ran down the side of Glenn's face and his neck, thanking God that he was still wearing his mask and leaned forward to breathe into his mouth.
He managed to get out three puffs of air before he started coughing into his mask. When he could breathe again, Isaac leaned down to repeat his actions, holding Glenn's nose closed as he continued his mouth-to-mouth.
"Isaac!" He shot up to see Hershel coming his way, Lizzie nowhere in sight and Henry still hanging in the air.
"He's—" Isaac choked off, still hating everything that he had to do for Glenn. "He's dying, I couldn't—I couldn't let him die."
"Thank you," Hershel kneeled to check Glenn's pulse. "He's still alive, you saved him, son. Can you keep doing this? I know how you must feel, you have to keep helping him breathe. He'll die otherwise!"
Isaac stopped listening after a moment, it was hard enough to do it the first time, but now Isaac was solely going to be responsible for keeping Glenn alive. The anxiety was crushing down on his chest as he stared at Glenn who quietly gasped for air.
"Please, Isaac!" Hershel snapped again.
He nodded, almost hyperventilating as he coughed. "I'm so washing up after this."
Hershel gave a small smile but nodded. "You can't do chest compressions, not until his heart stops. Just keep giving him whatever air you can, okay son? I need to kill the walkers here and then I'll be back to help. Don't let him die!"
Isaac nodded again as Hershel stood to get a gun from downstairs, in Dr. S' cell. Isaac was both envious and not. As Hershel made it down, saying that they needed the gun, he found Dr. S dead and turned as he grabbed him through the cell door. Hershel bent one of his arms back, breaking it, before stabbing him through the cell. He grabbed the shotgun from the cell and ran back out, past the walkers.
He made it back upstairs when he saw Lizzie and Luke had taken a step out of the cell he left them in, and he couldn't shoot the bodies in front of the kids. He stepped backwards into the cage at the top of the balcony so they would be hidden by the walls and shot the woman who had followed him. Four walkers came up towards him, and he shot them all down with the shotgun.
"Okay, Isaac!" He yelled. "How is he?"
Hershel rushed back over to him, but he saw the blood covering Isaac's mask and that Glenn was gasping loudly now, starting to bring up more and more blood, so much so that it pooled in his mouth and on the ground around him.
"I can't, I can't, I can't," Isaac was shaking his head, tears streaming down his face. "I can't do it."
"Roll him onto his side!" They did as he said, and the blood poured out of Glenn's mouth, his eyes barely open. "Hold on, Glenn."
"I can't, he's going to die he's going to die!" Isaac panicked.
He was going to die because of him. Isaac couldn't put his mouth against Glenn again, even with the mask on, the blood was soaking through and as much as he wanted to save him, Glenn was going to die. He couldn't do it.
"You did good, son. I know why you can't do it anymore. Just keep monitoring him, check his pulse," Hershel pushed himself up. "We have something. We still have it. We can save him."
Isaac looked back to see that Hershel had run over to Henry, still caught on the net, still hanging in the air. Hershel needed the bag to help Glenn breathe because Isaac couldn't put his face near his again, not with the blood he would get on him.
Isaac moved to the other side of Glenn and started patting his back in an upward motion, helping him to get the blood up from his throat. He needed to try something else, something else that would help him. If he died here, it would be his fault, and it was killing Isaac that he couldn't do more.
As he worked he heard a woman's voice yelling in the background.
"Dad!" Glass smashed at the front of the cellblock as the shouting got louder. Isaac realised that Maggie was there. A handgun shot went off, and Isaac straightened up to see her on the bottom floor, while Hershel was on the chain link cage. "Daddy!"
She held her gun up as Hershel battled with Henry for the bag. When he saw Maggie holding the bag, he stopped her. "No! You could hit the bag. We need it for Glenn!"
Despite what he said, Maggie fired a bullet, and Henry fell dead. Isaac watched as Hershel managed to get it from Henry's mouth, struggling to sit up on the chain-link mesh. Isaac's heart was racing with all the noises in his ears.
"Where is he?" Maggie asked.
"He's up here," Hershel groaned. "Cell 100."
Isaac saw Maggie within seconds as she dropped to the ground at Glenn's head, and he continued gasping. Isaac didn't realise that Glenn had gotten onto his back again and was choking worse than he had been.
"He's turning blue!" Maggie screamed.
"Clear his airway!" Hershel called back. "I'm on the way!"
Maggie helped Isaac roll him over as Isaac burst out into a fit of coughs and pushed himself backwards. She looked over at him but continued helping Glenn.
"Dad!"
"Roll him on his back!" Hershel ordered as he ran into the cell.
"Dad," she said.
Hershel worked to replace the mouthpiece and the tube as he continued giving her orders. "Hold his arms down," she did as told. "Come on, son. Come on. You know how this works. Just relax."
Hershel started pushing the tube down his throat, which made Isaac cringe and look away as he coughed. He hated watching it, hated hearing the gasping and he wanted nothing more than to get out of there.
"Stay with us. Stay with us . . ." Hershel connected the bag, and the choking noise stopped. "Stay with us."
Glenn was okay, he was getting air from the bag and he was alive.
"You're gonna be okay," Maggie said and leaned over him to hug him. "We're gonna be okay."
"I didn't want you in here," Hershel said.
"I know," she said. "I had to. Just like you."
Hershel reached forward and started wiping blood from her face. He looked back over her shoulder at Isaac, who was almost covering in the corner, not even looking over at Glenn or them.
"Isaac saved him, you know," Hershel said. "He saved his life."
Maggie looked back at him, and Isaac barely met her eyes as she gave a nod. "Thank you," she whispered.
"No, no," Isaac shook his head. "I couldn't help when he—he was going to die because of me."
"No," Hershel said. "He would've died without you."
"Here, son," Hershel grabbed the bag he left in the doorway, pulling out another face mask from his bag and holding it out to him. "Take this."
Isaac took a step towards them and grabbed him, pulling off the facemask with blood on both sides, meaning that he'd coughed up his lot of blood helping Glenn. He just prayed that the others were back soon or Hershel would be over him with another tube.
Lizzie came to the doorway, and Hershel looked back. "I told you to stay put," Hershel said.
"Is it over?"
"I think so, honey," he said.
And it was, because outside, in the dead of night, the car pulled up to the front of the prison.
Here we go.
I'm working on the TikTok, but I realised that most of the edits I made are a hundred percent spoilers for Season 7 so I need to get working on some more recent ones. Also debating on changing the username (for this and the TikTok) so I just need to think it over.
Anyway, hope you enjoyed the misery I gave poor little Isaac. Let me know what you thought :)