Abnormality || Glenn Rhee [1]

43 | Returned

CHAPTER FORTY THREE » RETURNED
"It's okay, it's me. Stay with us."

♔

I awoke with a start, shaken by my unfamiliar surroundings. My body jerked, causing a harsh cough to force its way up my aching throat.

Quickly, I attempted to sit up, until a warm hand softly pushed my shoulder down again. I became unable to shake the cough away, causing pained tears to begin to brim within my eyes.

Once I finally got myself under control, although the feeling still resided in my chest, I tried to sit up again, my eyes nervously darting around. My body ached, but not like I'd ever felt before. This ache was worse. It was fiery and painful, as if every single nerve in my body had been set alight.

"Blaire," a gentle voice said. I found myself looking up into kind, warm eyes. Again, I tried to move, but my body felt too weak to respond. And all of a sudden, I felt helpless, like I wasn't in control, like I'd never be in control again. And it scared me. It terrified me.

"Blaire, stop," the voice instructed, firmer this time as I started to squirm, struggling under their grip. "You're okay. You're okay. You're safe."

My already struggling lungs had quickly flew into panic mode, but as I heard my chest rattling with every uneven breath, I tried to slow down, allowing myself to relax more as I adjusted to my surroundings.

I wasn't outside anymore, I was back in the cells. The putrid stench of burning flesh now only felt like a distant memory, and I wondered if perhaps it had all been a horrible nightmare.

Blinking rapidly, I let my attention fall on Hershel, who was hovering over me, his hand still on my shoulder. To my left, the brown cell walls were coated with splashes of blood. To my right, bodies, alive or dead, lay limply on the floor.

"Fuck–" I breathed out, my voice coming out as a harsh wheeze, so struggled that it didn't even sound like me.

Even the effort to speak was too much, and I found my mind clouding over again, pulling me back into a blackness, back into my deepest, darkest nightmares.

~

"Here," Hershel said, one hand still on my forehead to check my temperature. He then moved his hand to my back, helping me to sit up as he began to pass me a glass of water. "You've been out of it for a few days."

"What happened?" I croaked out, the back of my throat burning. The last thing I remembered was being outside, but I was still struggling to decipher whether that was real or not. I took a sip of water. I was alone in my cell, but I could hear harsh coughs and painful cries ringing out throughout the block. There were more than three of us in here now. "Are Karen and David okay?"

Hershel pressed his lips into a thin line, taking the glass from my hands and placing it on the side again. "Karen and David didn't make it."

My breath hitched, my heart sinking in fear. They didn't make it. Did that mean this thing going to kill me too? "What?"

"The illness didn't kill them," he confirmed, as if knowing the conclusion my mind had already jumped to. I noticed the expression in his face, tortured, disappointed. "But somebody else did."

My eyebrows drew together, my gaze falling. Involuntarily, my mind cast back to my real or not-so-real nightmare. "How?"

"Somebody dragged them outside, set them on fire–" I let out a shaky breath, my reaction halting his words. It was real. "You were there too."

"Why did I–" I cut off, having no recollection whatsoever aside from the horrid stench of burning flesh. My stomach twisted. "How did I–"

"Tyreese found you, brought you back," Hershel replied, offering me a small smile despite it all. "You've been out for a couple days. Drifting in and out of consciousness."