Deadland

Chapter 47- Best Friend

I hearty laugh escapes my wrist as Michonne pulls out two left feet. One metal, one Walker. 

I'm sitting in the lounge area; Daryl had helped me downstairs which I refused but it was a lot easier. 

"I'll take the Walker foot please." She smiles and nods. "We'll have it sewn on by noon." I purse my lips, close my eyes, and nod. "Got it." We both giggle and she drops the Walker foot and sits in a stool in front of me. 

"Damien was up pretty much all night making this while you were asleep." She notes, handing me the foot. "Thought it would be a good present."  

There're five toes, PBND engraved on the bottom, and a little bowl-like-thing for my leg to go into. 

My smile fades slightly as I take the foot, "How long until my foot re-grows?" Michonne shrugs, "I think it's like one of those Grow Your Boyfriend things so if you just hold it under water, you'll be good." I nod, "I gotchu." 

She puts her hand on my thigh, "Dude, everyone thinks you're like the coolest person ever." I raise an eyebrow, "Well, duh. But why?" "You literally died. And then came back from the dead...not with green skin and trying to bite everyone's feet off." I chuckle, "Thanks." I set the foot on the ground and set my ankle inside, fitting it like a shoe.

I widen my eyes and smile as I feel that Damien has put the texture of a rough, scrubby washcloth just above my bandage since I can't take it off yet. "Holy shit. He listens." I look up at Michonne with a smile, "I told him this texture was my all-time favorite." 

"Hell yeah I listen, the fuck you think I'm doin' when we're sitting in complete dark just talking about textures an' shit?" I hear from behind me. I smile wider and turn around. "He has been summoned." I say, standing up. 

I wince as my wound isn't numb anymore, but the pressure is on my ankle, not my wound so it's not terrible. 

"You made this?" He smiles and nods. "Yep. I figured you would rather not hop on one foot for the rest of your life." I giggle and hug him. "Preferably." 

His arms wrap around me and he buries his face in the crook of my neck. 

His arms wrap around me tighter and I feel his neck tense under my arms being wrapped around them. 

"Damien?" I whisper. He breaks the hug, puts both hands on my shoulders, and looks at me. He's crying very slightly; he's obviously trying to keep his composure in front of me, but I can tell it's hard. 

"I-I lost you, Adrian. You were dead." My heart shatters at the pure pain in his voice. 

His mouth is twitching, working hard to keep him from frowning. His eyes are red and his hands are squeezing my shoulders yet gently. 

"But-" "No! No 'but' shit, Adrian. If Daryl and I weren't in there, you would have died. My best friend would have died." "I'm sure your best friend is Aly-" I start, trying to be a little less awkward in this moment so I try to make jokes. "No." He interrupts me. 

"You. You are my best friend. You are the reason I love waking up every morning even in this shit-dick of a world." "What the fuck is a shit-dick?" "This world. And it would have been a hell of a lot worse without you." My mouth decides to move into a downturned smile at Damien's words. 

"You have this-this thing in your brain that makes you think everyone is out to get you. Like that the fact your face is plastered on my heart is just so that I can get close so I can hurt you but...Adrian it's not true. Oh my god," He scoffs. "It is so not true. You should have seen the look on everyone's face. Carl's, Rick's, Carol's, Alyssa's. You are so loved Adrian, but," He pauses, trying to find the right words as his eyes scan from my metal foot to my face.