ꜰᴏᴏʟ'ꜱ ᴍᴀᴛᴇ || ᴛᴡᴅ x ᴏᴄ!

041: ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴏɴ

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"Why are we always worked like dogs?" Abraham questioned, as he and Sami brought Reg's body to the spot behind a house that they used as a graveyard. "Don't need you and your stumblin' tooties."

Sami almost tripped over a small bit of grass, carrying Reg's legs under a sheet. "What's that mean?"

Abraham laughed, and shook his head, as he placed the body down.

"You're not gonna tell me, are you?"

"Nope." Abraham looked at Reg's hand, poking out from under the sheet, wedding ring on his finger, and took out a bottle of whiskey, a sad look on his face, before he took a sip, and poured a small amount of Reg, before handing the bottle to Sami.

"What're we drinking to? You always have something to drink to."

"Lost loves, how about that?" He questioned, looking at his own wedding ring. 

Sami shrugged. "Turns out I don't have any of those."

"Then to . . . I don't fucking know, being alive to drink it."

"Good enough reason." He took a sip, finding it didn't burn his throat as bad as whiskey used to, and handed the bottle back to him.

Abraham sighed, and pointed at the sky. "Rosita says you like stars. What's that one?"

"You're pointing at nothing."

"There's a light right there, what is it?"

"I don't know, I don't see anything."

"Blind piece of shit." Abraham grunted, walking back towards the road. "Good for nothin' but killing the dead."

Sami followed him. "I'll see you back at the house. I wanna apologize to Rosita. I wasn't the nicest to her earlier."

"She's tough, she won't be cryin' over you."

"Thanks, I feel very loved."

"You think we can make this work?" He gestured around them, at the community. "Or that Rick dicked it up again?"

"I think Deanna's gonna be different. Don't know how, but she will be. Maybe it'll help."

"Maybe not."

"There's something to drink to." Sami yawned, and began walking to the infirmary. "Maybes! Act like a teenage American movie!"

"That's stupid." Abraham took a gulp of his whiskey. "To maybes!"

Sami cringed, and turned, pulling his coat tighter around himself as he headed to the infirmary. He wasn't that fazed by what happened Deanna and all. He didn't care. He didn't care about much since the party, but he cared that he was mean to Rosita. She didn't deserve it. Was he mean? He wasn't sure, but he wasn't nice.

But when he got to the infirmary, the door was open, Eugene staring at Tara, who was awake, while Maggie spoke to a beaten up Glenn, covered in blood, Nicholas beside him, also covered in blood.

"Sami." Rosita looked at him, as he stood in the doorway. "You okay?"

He nodded, walking over to her. He felt extremely overwhelmed. "I'm sorry for earlier."

"You didn't do anything."

"I wasn't nice."

"You weren't necessary not nice."

He sighed, tearing his eyes away from the others to look at her as he reached the counter she was standing at, trying to think of the most 'to-the-point' way of telling her how he felt. "I didn't treat you how you deserve to be treated and I'm sorry cause it was a shitty thing to do. I'm just a little . . . I don't know, messed up at the moment."