Future Ghosts • TWD

111. Thread.

Rosie was trying hard not to think about Tara, or Mrs. Johnson, or the fact that she was sitting on a table in the medical trailer and Siddiq was more than likely about to tell her bad news. Daryl was standing by her left shoulder while Siddiq was by her right shoulder, pulling her collar down to examine the wound.

After a few moments, Siddiq sighed and released her shirt, taking a single step back. "Yeah, it's messed up pretty bad. The wound reopened," Siddiq explained. Rosie looked down at her shoes and Daryl pinched the bridge of his nose. Siddiq began pulling things out of drawers, but Rosie wasn't quite sure what they were for just yet. "I'm gonna have to stitch it up, or I don't know if it'll heal correctly," he said, placing a needle and thread on the table next to him.

Suddenly, Rosie felt like throwing up. "No, no, no, no. We can use somethin' else. Like bandages or- or- or medical tape or somethin'," she said quickly, her voice higher than she meant for it to be. She did not want to get stitches ever again in her entire life. It hurt like hell when Patricia had done it back on the farm, and that was only a cut on her leg. This was a bullet wound on her shoulder. She wasn't sure if that'd make it more painful and difficult, but she assumed it would. Plus, she didn't have her velociraptor toy with her this time. It was upstairs, probably hidden somewhere beneath the covers of the bed she had been sleeping in.

"We have to do stitches," Siddiq said regretfully. Rosie wanted to scream at him, but she didn't. She just kept shaking her head. No, no, no, no, no. She was not getting stitches.

"No. I said no, so you can't," Rosie said. She knew that wouldn't work. If she needed stitches to get better, there was no doubt they were going to give her stitches. Even if it was against her will. They'd hold her down if they had to.

"I'm sayin' yes, so you're gettin' 'em," Daryl said. He sounded very exhausted. He had every reason to be. It was the middle of the night and he'd just been running around killing walkers, and now he had to deal with the stress of Rosie freaking out over getting stitches. He'd seen that girl kill people, but she cowered in fear when faced with a needle. Back at the CDC, at the farm, and now here. She'd been held over the side of a building in Atlanta, and she still kept her composure. It seemed like she had no fear, back then. Maybe she was just more comfortable expressing it, now that more time had gone by- now that she knew it was ok to show fear.

"I don't want 'em," Rosie insisted, shaking her head once again. She made her eyes extra wide, hoping her trick would work, even if it had to do with her physical well-being.

"Nah," Daryl said, shaking his head. Rosie's trick hadn't worked this time. That was unfortunate. "Just sit still, let him do his job," he said. Rosie huffed out a sigh of complaint and anxiety, scrunching her face up. She felt Daryl's hand on her good shoulder, squeezing it for a moment before dropping his hand down to the table, next to Rosie's. "It'll be over 'fore ya know it."

Siddiq finished sterilizing his supplies. He'd been doing that the whole time, despite Rosie's protests. He must've known that he was going to give her stitches, even if she didn't want them. He gestured towards her shoulder. "I'm going to need your shirt out of the way. Just halfway, so I can get to your shoulder easily," Siddiq said.

Rosie hated this part almost as much as she hated the needle poking through her skin. Siddiq had already seen it. He'd treated her wound before she had even woken up, and she had woken up in a different shirt than the one she was wearing when she was shot. Even if he wasn't there when her shirt was switched out, he had seen it all. From the marks on her back to the circles on her collarbones, Siddiq had already seen it. Rosie knew that. So why did her stomach hurt so bad? She ignored the feeling, carefully removing her arm from her sleeve.