Dead Inside || The Walking Dead X Reader

•Six•

"If we don't get him medical attention, he'll die," Kestine said, sending me into a sudden spiral of anxiety. I couldn't lose my brother. He was there for us when dad left. He let me and Xev move in when mom kicked us out.

I can't let him die.
•|•|•|•|•|•

I listened to Hershel and the man without a name argue as I cradled Warren's hand in my lap. He panted and wheezed and he would occasionally groan and reach up to grab his head.

I finally interrupted their debate on hope, with a small, "Excuse me."

They both stopped and looked at me, and finally the Asian man that hadn't said much spoke to me instead. "Yeah?"

"I know you folks have your own... uh... issues right now. But, uh, my brother-" I gestured to Warren, who was struggling to keep one eye open to observe the conversation, "-I think he has a concussion and a broken ankle. You're probably short on resources right now, but do you think you could spare anything like medication?"

The brunette man looked at Hershel, who looked annoyed, like he already knew what the man was going to say. "He's a doctor," he said, "He can help your brother."

"Rick, I hardly want you people on my farm. You can't just bring in more," Hershel complained sternly.

"Please," I began to beg. "I can't do this without him. I can't let him die."

They looked at each other in silent contemplation. "Alright, fine. But you folks have got to be on your way as soon as he's moving around again."

I smiled gratefully and gently squeezed Warren's hand. "Thank you, sir."

Hershel finished his drink and set the cup down onto the table, and they looked as if they were getting ready to head out.

Suddenly, the door pressed open, and every head in the bar turned toward it.

"Son of a bitch. They're alive."

•|•|•|•|•|•

The pair of wanderers had settled down and were now having drinks, making conversation with Hershel, Glenn, and Rick.

I could feel my gut churning uneasily. Maybe it was because of the bottle of wine, or maybe it was because I hadn't eaten in days. Maybe it was because I had a terrible feeling that now sat at the bottom of my stomach.

I helped Warren to drink a bottle of water and a bit of alcohol to help with the pain. Sweat dropped off of his face rapidly, and his brown hair was matted to his forehead.

I bit the inside of my cheek, swiping my sleeve across his forehead to lessen the sweat, listening as the men made conversation, and occasionally tuning in on Kestine and Xevenie speaking lowly. At some point, the pair disappeared somewhere, which didn't bother me much.

The five chattering adults began to get uncomfortably quiet. One of the sweaty men began to ask about where the trio was set up, and it was obvious that they didn't trust these men by the slow and obviously-untrue answers that they gave.

I heard a trickling of liquid as the larger of the two men stopped in the corner. I shuddered, eyeing Rick warily. He looked on edge, as if he were to pull a gun any second.

I cleared my throat politely and hesitantly. "Can... can we go now? Please?"

Tony turned his gaze to me, and I sunk back in my seat under his watchful eyes. "Why are you in a hurry? I thought we were all buddies here," He said with an off-putting grin, looking to Rick. "So it's safe on your farm?"

"We've said enough," Rick said, finality in his voice.

The man kept talking in a low voice, mentioning that there were more of him and his friend. I kept a firm grip on Warren's hand, though he was barely strong enough to squeeze back.