I spent the next two days wandering around lifelessly. I hadn't slept since before Nat and I went for our little adventure. I had massive headaches which were only getting worse and I had to rest constantly. Trinity tried to help me sleep but all she could do was reassure me because I refused to let anyone touch me. Sloan still slept locked into her cell, probably because everyone knew she only reminded me of what had happened. Everyone went about living with ease as I struggled to do just that.
On the third night, someone sent Nat in to talk to me. All I could do was accuse her of not helping me and cry pathetically. She was trying to explain something to me but I couldn't bear to listen or let her reason with me. She left and I went another night without sleep.
The next day I was looking out the window, wrapped in a blanket, when I saw him. Out in the forest in front of the prison, behind all of the walkers crowding the fence. I saw Finn standing there, no longer grinning. His face was dark and he looked as if he sought revenge and nothing but revenge. There was something on the side of the face and I tried to determine what it was with my aching brain as he slowly crept closer to the gate. It was the gunshot. The wound was there.
He was coming to take revenge on me and Sloan and probably Nat, too. I stared, unable to move, as he stepped right through the crowd of walkers and then right through the gate. He didn't open it. He just slipped through it somehow. That was when I began to panic, screaming for Trinity, who ran to me and frantically asked what was wrong.
"He's here! It's him, he's here," I sobbed, pointing out the window at the monster.
Trinity stared out, searching for the person I was pointing at as tears filled her eyes.
"Nikki, there's no one there," she told me, trying to stay calm as she looked at me. Her eyes were fearful, like I was the evil one who was going to hurt someone.
"He's right there!" I insisted, pointing to him and begging her to do something about it. He was right there and he was going to hurt me!
"Nikki, listen to me. No one is there. You are okay. You're safe in the prison," She said, biting her lip and trying to keep herself composed. She tried to hug me but I squirmed away. I shook my head and she just tried to convince me he wasn't there. I looked again and he was gone.
That was when they insisted that Carl be sent into my cell with me to calm me down and maybe help me sleep. Hershel told me I'd been hallucinating due to lack of sleep, but I didn't believe him. I knew what I had seen.
So Carl agreed and was sent in. I was on my bed and he came and sat next to me. I was careful not to let him touch me.
"Nikki," he said quietly, raising his eyebrows to exaggerate his seriousness,"you need to sleep."
I shook my head. I couldn't sleep. He didn't understand that I was too fearful to do that. There would only be nightmares anyway. He lightly took my hand and I closed my eyes, preparing for what I knew he would do next. He would hurt me and no one would help.
But he didn't hurt me, or even try. He hugged me tightly. Every muscle in my body was tight and afraid at first, but I eventually realized that he wasn't going to do anything to cause me harm.
Carl laid with me until I fell asleep, which didn't take long. I slept for 22 hours straight after that.
When I woke up, I hardly knew what year it was. I was dazed and confused. Carl was there sleeping. I didn't need to know what year it was, or even what century it was, as long as he could forgive me.
A voice in my head told me that I was the one who had to forgive him. But I didn't care. I was weak and I just wanted to feel okay. I figured this was kind of his apology anyway. If it was, that meant he was like me. I didn't like apologizing. It made me uncomfortable. I just did things to show I regretted my decision.
I looked at him for a long time. His hat wasn't on and I could see just how greasy his hair was. That was, of course, usual, but I somehow found it cute. I was starving, though, so I got up to go get food. Before I left, I decided to plant a quick kiss on his lips. I wanted to be the perfect girlfriend. I hesitated, then considered that he'd said he loved me and I had returned the favor. That made me smile and follow through on my plans.
Carol smiled softly at me when she saw me and followed me into the kitchen.
"How was hibernation?" she teased as I ate unheated black beans from a can and prepared cream of mushroom soup.
"Well, I don't recall any dreams, specifically nightmares. So I suppose it was fairly good," I answered, smoothly stirring the soup. She nodded.
"That's good. I'm glad you're feeling better. Of course, you'll have to catch up on chores now," she said with a wink. I forced a tired smile and tossed the empty black bean can at her lightly.
"That wasn't very nice," she laughed, wiping some of the liquid from the can which had remained and apparently splashed onto her.
"I'm not exactly a nice person. Hate to break it to you," I divulged. She grinned and shook her head.
"Have fun with your fungus stew," she said as she left the kitchen. I removed it from the stove and turned off the burner. It wasn't very hot, but I planned on drinking it from the pan to minimize dishes. I didn't want to burn myself, especially not my tongue.
I sat at the nearest table and twirled my hair with my left hand while swirling my watery soup around with my right. Both of my arms felt itchy at the surface and achy underneath, but I figured I shouldn't stop moving them because of the pain. I didn't want them to heal incorrectly or anything, so a bit of use would probably do them some good. My left arm ached much more sharply than my right, but that could be assumed. It didn't matter as much anyway; I was a righty.
When my soup was cool enough, I drank it in small sips. I finished it after a while and carried it out to the cafeteria, where we put the dirty dishes. We washed them all at once so we wouldn't use as much water and soap.
I went back to my cell and crawled over Carl, cuddling up to him with a book I'd grabbed from the prison library. Before I could begin to read, Carl put an arm around me from behind , his tight grip catching me off guard. He rested his head on mine and kissed my cheek. I felt myself blushing and tried opening the book as it practically fell from my hands.
"Are you feeling better?" he asked. His voice was deep from the sleep and I knew I wouldn't be able to focus on my book anyway. I set it down, giving up on relaxing.
"Yeah. Thanks for sleeping with me. I mean, you know, in bed," I laughed to hide the embarrassment over my choice of words. Carl turned to look at the cell door, his arm still around me. I followed his gaze but still had no idea what he was looking at.
"What are you doing?" I asked, confused. Was someone out there? I pushed down the bubbling panic.
"I expected Daryl to come in and ask what we were talking about. You always pick the wrong words," he grinned, turning back to where he'd been before.
"Oh shut up!" I groaned, hitting him with my book. He narrowed his eyes at me playfully and rolled over on top of me, pinning my wrists down at the base of my hand, high above my wounds.
"Carl, don't," I panicked, trying to keep my voice calm and low. I didn't want to be held down. Not again.
"I will do as I please!" he teased before meeting my eyes and seeing what I'm sure was complete fear. He released me and slid off.
"Sorry, I forgot," he said slowly. I nodded, trying to swallow the lump in my throat.
"It's okay. It's my fault," I told him, examining my nails so I wouldn't have to look at him right then.
"It's not your fault. I almost wish he wasn't dead so I could kill him myself," he seethed.
"Will you read to me?" I asked, wanting to change the subject as soon as possible. Carl nodded and got up to go get The Great Gatsby. I could hardly remember what was going on in the story. It seemed like such a long time ago that we were contentedly reading.
I wanted to do something to show to Carl that I was alright. I didn't want Finn to affect my life too much. Nothing had happened anyway. He'd seen as much skin as anyone who'd ever seen me at the beach had. Obviously, it was a different situation, but I tried telling myself it didn't matter. He was dead anyway.
Just as Carl finished the chapter he was reading, I wrapped my arms around his neck and turned his head to face me. I lightly placed my lips on his. Our mouths drifted about and moved less clumsily than usual. We kissed gently for what seemed like seconds. I pulled away, keeping the kiss sweet. He smiled sadly at me and got up, pulling me with him. I gave him a curious look and he intertwined his fingers loosely with mine, leading me out into the hall.
Carl ended up bringing me to the library, where I beat him at Checkers. We played a few rounds, then grew bored of it and made up a game of our own rules using the checkerboard. Basically, we had sword battles with yard sticks from the librarian's office. Whoever won the duel got to move a checker.
At one point, I accidentally slapped Carl particularly hard on the arm. He dramatically faked immense pain until I agreed to kiss it to make it better. When I knelt down to do just that, he "cut my head off" with his yardstick.
"You're a dirty rotten cheater!" I laughed, grabbing his arm to keep him from going over to the checkerboard and moving a piece. That, of course, resulted in me pulling him down. Which may have resulted in a bit of kissing.
We ended up tying in our odd game of checkers, although I was convinced that I should've been the winner. Carl felt the same way about his own victory.
~Author's Note~
There ya go, loves!
You have no idea how much fun it was to write about sleep-deprived Nikki at the beginning.
I've hit a rough patch of the watermelon field that is life again, so I'm sorry I haven't been on much to explore the wonderful world of Wattpad.
Why watermelons, you may ask? I don't know. Watermelon is good.
How are you, giraffes? What kind of fruits/veggies/pizzas grow in your field of life?
Love, a clearly overtired Atlas =3