Future Ghosts • TWD

148. Shhh.

Ian was sick. Very, very sick. He spent all night throwing up and all day writhing in pain on the couch. Rosie was spending her morning trying to figure out how to fix him. But she wasn't a doctor. She had no clue what to do. Daryl still wasn't back and Carol was gone, too.

The two thought about going to the infirmary, but Ian could hardly stand up on his own, being so exhausted. When Rosie went to get Siddiq, she found that Ian wasn't the only one with the illness. It was almost everyone. It reminded her of the sickness that spread around the prison. She'd managed to make it out of that, so surely Ian would make it out of this. He just needed medicine... or something.

"I'm gonna get medicine from Siddiq and bring it back here. The whole infirmary is, like, packed," Rosie explained to Ian. He was still lying on the couch with his head buried in a pillow.

"Can you get me some more water before you go?" Ian asked.

Usually, Rosie would have said yes. But she was tired of rinsing out the bucket of his thrown-up water. "You're just gonna puke it all up again," she told him, shaking her head. Ian huffed in complaint. "I'll get you some once you got medicine," Rosie promised him.

"Fine. Thanks," Ian said, wrapping his arms around his stomach. His skin was pale and he kept going back and forth between feeling freezing and feeling like he was on fire. It was exhausting taking care of him. I need the blanket. No, get this blanket off of me! It's on fire!

Boys were just wimps whenever they got sick, Rosie decided.

"'Kay. I'll be right back," Rosie said before walking out the front door. She started making her way towards the infirmary, but stopped in her tracks when she saw Carol and Daryl walking down the road with a blindfolded man by their sides. "Oh, thank God. You're back," Rosie sighed in relief, rushing over to the two.

"Hey," Daryl greeted as she got over to him.

"Hi. Who's this guy?" Rosie asked.

"Whisperer. Lydia still in the cell?" Daryl asked. Rosie's stomach churned with anxiety upon hearing that the man just a few feet away from her was a whisperer, but she swallowed the anxiety back and tried to ignore it.

"Yeah. She's hardly left it. I woulda' tried to get her out, but I had to take care of Ian. He got sick and there ain't any room left in the infirmary," Rosie explained. She looked over to Carol, who was holding the man's tied-up hands behind his back. "He's been askin' for you," she said.

"I'll go see him in a little bit," Carol replied. She didn't seem like she was fully there. She seemed like she was a bit out of it. Her focus was fully on the whisperer in front of her and Rosie could practically feel the anger radiating from the woman.

"What d'you mean there ain't any room in the infirmary?" Daryl asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Tons a' people got it. It's like at the prison. 'Cept no one's throwin' up blood. Just stomach acid, at this point," Rosie explained. They got down to the cell that used to be Negan's and Rosie pushed open the door, holding it for the others.

"Come on. Get out. We need the cell," Daryl said to Lydia as they got inside. She was sitting, reading a book, but rushed out of the cell as soon as she was told to. Her face turned anxious as she passed by the blindfolded whisperer. Rosie wondered if she knew him.

As Carol pushed the man into the cell, Rosie left to follow after Lydia, who had hurried out of the building as quickly as she could.

"Hey," Rosie said, sitting down by Lydia's side on the rusty, old playground equipment.

"Hi," Lydia replied in her quiet, raspy voice.

"You ok?" Rosie asked. She quickly regretted it, though, because she always hated that question. Lydia probably hated it, too. "Sorry. Never mind. I hate the question," she said quickly. Lydia let out a quiet laugh that sounded fake. Rosie tried to think of a better question. "What's your favorite... planet?" she asked.