like real people do | c.g [#wattys2019]

H O M E

NOT BEING ABLE TO SLEEP IS NOTHING NEW. Insomnia is a very old friend, albeit one that does come and go, one that's tainted my life in ways that I barely even notice anymore. The drag of my feet is just part of my stance, and the heaviness of my eyelids is just something I've grown accustomed to. Alexandria used to have coffee, but we stopped being able to find it, and though the Hilltop does grow their own plants, I drank so much of it between unstableness with Carl and I at the prison, and stress in Alexandria that I think it doesn't really affect me as much anymore.

And I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway- I haven't properly, not since Glenn died, and especially not since I left Carl- not here of all places. But, what I hadn't expected were gunshots ringing through the air.

I still don't know the time, but I gathered it was already night when Eugene came here, and that was a couple hours ago. A lot of the commotion outside settled, so I figured most Saviors were asleep. Still, I didn't trust that enough to leave. There's probably one of those disgusting men right around the corner. I'm fully aware I'm dying within the next couple of days, but that doesn't mean I'm eager for it, not even after what I told Negan.

I rise from the bed I was still perched on, stance awaiting a threat I'm not able to fight, my heart pounding louder and louder in my ears as the shots grow closer and closer and for a moment, when I hear the screech of the door beginning to open, I'm filled with a slight hope- maybe they came for me. To rescue me, get me back.

It's foolish to think that- we don't have the numbers or weapons to attack or we would've already. We wouldn't be separated, cracked and scattered across communities, trying to scramble allies together if we did. I know that even if Maggie and Enid are aware- scared and worried for me- the rest of them, the ones still in Alexandria have no idea. Carl has no idea. And he probably won't know until it's too late.

I know this. I know this and yet I still hope. Even though the logical side of my brain tells me I would've heard more gunshots if it were them, even if I know there's no way they would've gotten here this fast, even if I know that they know better than to march in here guns blazing- I still hope.

And when the red door opens to reveal the hardened, glaring face of Sasha Williams, finger ready on the trigger, I almost believe it. Until her face falls as she catches herself, almost pulling the trigger out of reflex before she recognizes me. She hesitates, my name falling off her tongue, the confusion in it feeling like a blow to the chest. "Casey?"

She wasn't aware I was here. I register that in the split second after she calls out to me and it hurts that I got my hopes up. But I push that notion away, store it in a box in my brain marked for later, instead focusing on one thing and one thing only. "Sasha?" What is she doing here?

We only have one second, a second of confused staring and unanswered questions before arms tug her back. Weapons are raised at her head, grabbing her rifle away from her as she struggles against the hold of two separate Saviors, still in my line of vision in the doorframe of this room. I feel my legs move toward her as I scream out. "Let go of her!" My words ring out before it's my turn to be the one facing the end of a barrel again.