"𝐜𝐨𝐰𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞„

forty, bloodhail

hilltop

Icy breaths suffocated the room in civility. She lay on the floor, with everyone else, in the Barron house with nothing but a sleeping bag to halt the freeze. All the others seemed to have fallen into sleep easily, but Jane stayed awake once again - spinning a coin between two fingers.

Her, Ellie and Siddiq had been sitting in that room for around an hour when Rick and the others finally came to get them. Jane hadn't liked the idea of sleeping in here, away from Carl, but she didn't pry as they needed all the space they could get in the infirmary. Selfish it would be, to take a spot from someone who might need it.

Her eyes stayed trained on the coin, watching it spin and twist on her hands, when she stopped to admire it in it's copper like humanness.

Caressing one thumb over the side with a portrait engraved, she thought about how strange of a concept money really was. I mean, it made sense, yes, but she could never imagine going back to a world where she should worry about income or even getting a job. She shivered at the thought of being behind a counter, dealing with people that didn't care for you from 9 till 5. Everyday, all day.

But again, that would be better than this.

Light voices entered the room swiftly: likely the sounds of Rick, Daryl and Maggie's complex decision making. They'd opted Jane out of all of it, even though she'd insisted on helping. They told her they were worried about her, which was all true but they avoided trying to explain to her that she got very impulsive when emotional - and a few people end up way more than hurt at the end of the day, and that that was their main concern after her well-being.

They didn't know what might happen if she saw Negan's face. She'd already tried to kill him a few times before, but....this was different. Rick could feel the revenge fizzling up in his head, and he couldn't imagine what Jane was planning. What she might do.

What he didn't know, was that she'd seen him that night, and that he was the reason carl was alive. Although, he was also the cause of this whole situation and the source of all of their problems like ever - so it could be argued that this singular deed did not quite push him as far into the light as he had hoped.

In fullness, Jane hadn't quite realised her feelings. She was angry, yes, but she suspected the full on rage was to appear further on down the line when the depression and hopelessness calmed a little.

Ellie slept soundly beside her, alongside Enid, Tonya, and max. Jane liked to just watch her breathe in and out, in and out, because it was stable and guaranteed and comforting if you wanted to put it that way.

Her rocky sleep (once she had managed to attain it) had teased her with the image of carl once again, the same as ever. She tossed and flailed under the thin tart fabric, trying to get comfortable but he didn't want to leave her be. She dreaded the idea of this being her singular future: the legacy of loneliness, and yearning - the punishment that would chain her to the earth, waiting permanently for him. Her life without Carl.

"I love you," he would tell her. then he would slip away.

Even though she had awoken several times in a span of two hours, it was the best sleep she'd had in days. So good, that she feared she wouldn't be able to lift her head from her makeshift pillow (a folded t-shirt) at the wake.

But she was wrong.

A soft groaning noise had erupted at the left side of the hall. Footsteps, too - slow, uneven and scuffling. People, injured people, were opening their eyes. Yet, they did not take a life-filled breath. The unfortunate reality of this situation was the fact that there was no scream to wake them. No sign of alarm, no apparent struggle. But people were dying - and fast at that.