Struggling (Sequel to Little Mouse)

A Long Day

I opened my eyes and saw that Hershel and Rick were arguing quietly. Rick, Lori, Hershel and I were still by Carl's bed, even though I had taken a small nap in the corner.

"He's not getting much better. Shane and Otis are taking too long to return and Carl's condition is growing worse." Hershel informed Rick, which made me sit up quickly.

"I can give more blood." I volunteered instantly, but Hershel shook his head at my offer.

"I can't take anymore from you. You're underweight. It was a risk to even take any from you to begin with." He pointed out. I nodded reluctantly. "Now, I hate to say it, but we may have to attempt the surgery without the equipment. You're going to have to make a choice sooner rather than later." Motioning for me to follow him, he rooted the room to give Rick and Lori some private conversation time. I followed him out to his living room. The room was old fashioned with floral print couch and wallpaper with a piano in the corner of the room, where Beth was sitting while T-dog and Glenn stood off to the side.

"You guys wanna help out with somethin'?" Maggie asked, coming in from the back door. Glenn nodded immediately, and T-dog, probably not wanting to be left alone with Hershel and I, followed. Hershel then turned to Beth.

"Go to bed, please." He ordered gently. She nodded without complaint and hustled up the stairs. Hershel put his head in his hands and sighed. "Y'know, we really need to do this. You went to college for how long?"

"Eight years." I answered.

"You're 26, then?" He questioned, glancing up at me.

"No. I'm 25. I graduated high school early." I corrected him.

"Are you really sure you are gonna go through with this surgery?" He asked.

I swallowed. "Not much choice, is there?" I mumbled, leaning against the wall.

He sighed and shook his head. "You know, one wrong move, and Carl is gone. You do know that, right?" He pointed out.

"Well, if I do, then I'll leave." I declared. Instantly, I felt regret come over me. What would Daryl think? If he came here, expecting to see me, but finding out that I had accidentally killed Carl and left the group? Or Dale? How'd he react to know that his niece ran away from a failed attempt at surgery that ended up costing Carl his life?

"If that gives you motivation to get it done right, then I guess it's fine." Hershel muttered grimly. We wait a little longer. "I hope they know the severity of this." He mumbled, more to himself than to me.

Just after he said that, Carl's room door opened and Rick nodded, though seeming reluctant. Hershel and I quietly stepped into his room.

Just as we walked in, Carl's eyes shoot open. My own eyes widened a little and I glanced at Hershel, who looked very serious. Lori instantly ran to his side, her eyes filled with love and thankfulness. "Sweetie, how are you feeling?" She asked frantically, brushing his hair back and taking his hand.

"Mom! Guess what?" He asked enthusiastically. Before she could even open her mouth to ask, he answered. "We saw a deer! I even went up close to it! It was-" but before he could finish the sentence, he started trembling violently. Rick lunged forward, but I stepped in front of him and kept him back.

"Don't touch him! He's having a seizure." I stated, glancing over my shoulder at the withering Carl.

Finally, after a couple minutes, he was laying still on the bed. I immediately grabbed his wrist to check his blood pressure. To my horror, it had dropped a lot. "Hershel, it's very low." I stated, showing him. "I can make another transfusion." I desperately offered, but Hershel shook his head.

"No. If I take any more blood from you, you may go into a coma or suffers cardiac arrest. I need you to help me with the surgery." He explained.

"Then take mine! I've gained enough by now." Rick demanded. He seemed steady on his feet, thankfully.

"Are you sure? Can't have you going into a coma either." Hershel asked, already taking out his kit. Rick nodded without a second thought. "Alright. I guess it's the only way to keep Carl alive until Shane and Otis get back."

"You're wastin' time," Rick said, rolling his sleeve up again. "Quit talkin'."

...

After the transfusion, Rick was given more orange juice and another sandwich. I was checking on Carl's pulse, pleased that it was a little bit stronger. But this wouldn't last long, and Rick couldn't keep giving blood.

Apparently Rick understood the situation just fine. "Um, could you excuse me and Lori?" Rick asked. I nodded and got up to leave.

"Hershel, I need to talk to you." I declared, shutting the door behind me as we exited the bedroom.

"Yes?" He asked, half interested.

"We gotta do it. His blood pressure is low, and that last transfusion won't last long. We have to do it now or never." I stated, crossing my arms.

Hershel nodded, and we silently went back into the room. Rick glanced up, sorrow and desperation in his eyes. Before anyone could say anything, Rick spoke. "Do it."

I glanced at Hershel and swallowed thickly. This was extremely dangerous, but there was no other alternative. Hershel knew this too, and nodded briefly. He grabbed his medical kit and handed me a pair of blue latex gloves. I pulled them on slowly, glancing at Rick and Lori, who was sobbing into Rick's shoulder. He nodded softly at me, as if trying to encourage me. My words from earlier sank in as I stared at Carl's bandaged wound. If he died during the operation, I'll leave.

Just as Hershel took a scalpel out of the medical kit, a flash of bright light shone through the window, making everyone jump up. I felt my heart pounding with relief as I realized who it was.

"Must be Shane and Otis." Hershel mumbled hopefully, putting his equipment down before rushing out of the room, leaving me to sterilize the equipment. After a few minutes, Hershel reappeared, holding a large black case with a hopeful look in his eyes.

"Alright, let's save that boy." Hershel declared, setting the case down and unhooking the latches.