My Brothers And Sisters In Arms - (TWD FanFiction) [ON HOLD]

Assholes Grow On Trees

*unedited

Harper

I grunted, blinking my eyes open. Where am I? On the hardwood floor of the house you boarded up five days ago to die in. Okay... but what am I doing on the floor? You fell down the stairs. Well doesn't that suck? For you, it does, yes. And for you, it's not much better, because you are literally me. Fuck you, me.

Okay, talking to my own delirious ass is more fun than I actually thought it'd be. Shrinks were right, you really can convince yourself you're talking to someone else when you're delirious as a damn mole above ground. Until you call yourself out on it, of course.

I groaned again as the pain hit me in waves. Well, shit, I'm probably in labour. I squinted to see through my throbbing headache. Since when did labour give you splitting headaches though? I frowned, despite the shrill cries and ache of pretty much every bone and muscle in my body. Oh, yeah, right, I forgot. My weak, should-be bedridden ass fell down the stairs. Shakily, I moved my right hand to my stomach. Still flat. Not pregnant. Thank God for he didn't impregnate me while I knocked myself out.

Not that he'd do me whilst I'm like this. I mean, I probably won't last another night. I shifted slowly. I had to get upstairs. I won't last down here, 'specially not lying down like some dinner bell for those would-be funeral spectacles. When's the last time I fucked anyone anyway? 'Bout four years ago, Captain. Stop mocking me, me. Oh, come on, mocking you is fun. You realise you're mocking yourself right? I waited for an answer, pausing in a marginally comfortable position. I didn't answer myself. I huffed. Idiot. Shut up, limp-ass seaweed. Oh, okay, fuck you, me. Oh~, you would~

Groaning again, more at myself than the pain, I managed to stand, gripping the paint-peeled bannister to my left with an iron grip, leaning on it heavily as I felt my body try to slump beneath my own damn feet. Oh, knees, why do you betray me so? I asked myself, wondering if my knees would suddenly gain the ability to think and speak comprehensible thoughts and start answering in a voice that was not made from my head, nor sounded like a bad mimick of myself. They didn't, so I gave up standing and dropped to my hands and knees, muffling their dreams of speech with the roughened, stripped hardwood beneath me. I had apparently decided to crawl my way up the stairs. Interesting decision. I almost growled an insult at lunatic me. Almost.

"Maniac Me shoulda had a TV show..." I grumbled under my breath as I crawled unsteadily up and over the final step, scooting immediately away from the edge of that thing. Man, I don't think I'll survive another fall like that...

I leant my head up against a wall and felt myself relax a little too much for my own liking. No, we sleep when we get to the bedroom, Harper, remember that rule? I grunted a yes. Yeah. That's right. You made it so you're gonna keep to it, lady. You run this house, remember? You better own it now too, just like the Survivor you needed to become for yourself. Now get your sorry ass up and get into that master bedroom. "But that room's farthest awayyyy...." My dry throat cracked my voice and I whined like the baby I used to be before I became a part of the Army and later the Navy. Mhmm, and you're gonna make it to that room just to prove that you damn well can got it, Rose? "Ma'am..... Yes... Ma'am...."

So, I latched my fingernails into the unevenly painted cream wall of the landing and hauled my numb, beaten, bloody and broken ass to the master bedroom. When I finally got there, it was lights out for me. Beddy byes. See you in the morning, hopefully.

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Harper

Y'know, I don't remember slumping down against the wall at such an awkward angle.