Not Dead Yet

The Cure For What Ails You

"Zo!!!!" 

Zoey flinches as the witch's claws flash toward her. Then she blinks as she watches the witch fly backwards. With the burden of the witch's body absent, she frantically scoots backwards. She comes up against a pair of legs. Before she can react, Francis reaches down and scoops her up, turning and running with her. He slings her over his shoulder so she can watch as Yvette flies in at the witch, swinging her axe in a powerful upward arc. The blade catches the witch on the chin, splitting her face with an angry, bloody slash. The witch crumbles to the ground. The night goes silent as her screeches cease. 

Francis stops at the back steps of the church and puts Zoey on her feet. He holds her at arm's length and gives her a good once-over.

"Are you ok? Oh my fuckin' God! Are you ok?!?!"

She nods mutely. Tears well up in her eyes, which makes her angry. So does the uncontrollable shaking that has taken over her body. Francis pulls her into a suffocating embrace. He strokes her hair, her arms, her back. 

She squeezes her eyes shut and burrows her head into his chest. She grips the sides of his leather vest with numb fingers, holding on as if her life depends on it. 

"Is she ok?" 

She hears the fear and concern in Louis's voice, but she doesn't open her eyes. 

"Yeah, yeah. I think she's just a little shook up."

"Yeah. I'm not surprised. That was scary!" Yvette's voice is labored as she breathes fast and heavy. "I tried to get to her, but it was like I was moving in slow motion!"

Zoey can feel Francis nod. "Tell me about it."

He pulls away, holding her away from him again. She reluctantly opens her eyes. He lowers his head, snagging her gaze with his worried hazel eyes, and raises his eyebrows.

"You are ok, right? You gotta talk to me, firebug."

She nods again, struggling to find her voice. She wants to tell him she's fine and to stop worrying, but the adrenaline rushing through her veins is making her shaky. She swallows hard.

"Um. Can I ... can I just sit down? I think ... oh, I might be sick!"

Louis and Yvette move away, giving her space. Francis helps her sit down on the wooden steps. He sits next to her, stroking her back. She bends over, lowering her head between her knees. She tries to breathe deep and slow. After a moment, the nausea passes and she is able to look at him.

"I'm so sorry! I thought I had it! I don't know what happened," she shakes her head, tears forming again.

"Hey! It's ok. You're ok. It's over ..."

She shakes her head harder. "No! It's not over! Francis, I could have hurt the baby!! What was I thinking? And ... no, it's not over. There are still zombies. There are still witches and hunters and smokers and ..."

"And lions and tigers and bears," he quips, shaking his head, too. "And what are you going to do about it? Give up? The Zoey I know wouldn't give up."

She bites her lip, looking away. "I don't want to give up, but I don't want to lose ... I don't want to lose ..." she touches her belly.

He cups her face, bringing her gaze up to his. "I know, baby."

He kisses her. She throws her arms around his broad shoulders, clinging to him. 

"I'm so sorry," she mumbles against his mouth, tasting her own tears.

"Ssshh," he whispers, kissing her again.