"Mom?" Carl asked, his head shifting in her periphery as he turned to look at her.
Lori acknowledged him with a soft hum, pulling her eyes away from her chest where she was nursing and apparently ravenous Judith. The baby had been eating steadily for more than half-an-hour according to the wrist watch on the table before her. "What is it?"
"Do you think Dad is okay?" her son asked, turning back to his oatmeal, his face a veil of indifference that she knew was only a mask hiding his anxiety. "I mean…" he paused, taking a breath. "As much as he's kind of an assh-," he stiffened, cringing before backpedalling. "I mean, kind of a jerk, maybe he should have taken Merle."
Lori bit back her scolding about his choice of words and reached out to smooth the back of his slick hair, deciding that he needed a thorough bath. "I'm sure your Dad will be just fine with Daryl and Hershel; he knows what he's doing."
Carl nodded, lifting one shoulder then dropping it as he slumped further over his bowl.
Lori frowned, watching him for second before turning her attention back to Judith who had unlatched and settled back into the crook of her arm contentedly. Adjusting her shirt first, Lori lifted the baby to her shoulder and patted her back before turning her attention to her own uneaten breakfast. The oatmeal had developed a skin as it cooled and she stared at the unappetizing meal, considering if she was even up for eating it at all. Between her nerves over Rick's meeting with the Governor and her general lack of appetite after Judith's birth, it felt like a chore to even pick up her spoon.
"You have to eat it," Carl told her, picking up his own now-empty bowl and getting up from the table to take it over to the dish bin. "Or else Judith won't get good milk."
Lori gaped at his retreating back for a moment, surprised that he he'd even considered her milk supply. Her surprise was short-lived and quickly turned to chagrin; he was growing up so quickly. It warmed her to see how easily he had taken on the role of being an older brother and caring for his sister and the group. "Yes, sir," she finally answered when she gathered her voice.
Across the room Carl dropped his washed bowl onto the drying rack and shuffled back over to her, his arms outstretched. She transferred the baby over to him, offering him a smile to show her gratitude. "Thanks, love. Remember to burp her."
Her son rolled his eyes. "I know, Mom," he groaned, heading for the cells.
XXXXX
Lori ate most of her breakfast, though it took her most of the morning to get it down. She watched as the others began to fill the room, sorting through the supplies that Rick had brought back with him from King County the night before. Glenn had taken on the roll of leader in Rick's absence, organizing everyone with swift commands. She watched the man with a sense of awe at how much he had changed since she had first met him the year before.
Back then he'd come into the group barely an adolescent, wearing a band shirt of some kind and converse, his backpack containing a few t-shirts, his iphone, and a Gameboy. He'd been sweet and motivated to help – that much hadn't changed. Though he'd hardened, especially in the last few days, she could still see his soft heart and determination to make sure that everyone had what they needed.
Getting up she cleared the table for the group to have another surface to lay everything out on. The dish water was cold when she slipped her hands into it to feel around for anything that might have been left unwashed. When she found the basin empty, she squeezed more soap into it and began working through the dishes that had piled up on the side since the day before, leaving the others to figure out their defence strategy.
It wasn't that she wasn't interested in the plan and how she might contribute, but she knew that at the end of the day, for all their work, the others were going to need to eat and have a place to rest. She could take care of that part.
She looked up at the sound of Merle's voice and bit back the urge to roll her eyes. The man really was a piece of work. He'd been there less than a week and already she had grown weary of his constant attempts to undermine Rick's decisions, his pot stirring, and his rough assertions that he knew better than anyone else.
"My dad can take care of himself," Carl spoke up indignantly, drawing Lori's attention back to the group. She looked up to find that her son had returned from his task and she narrowed her eyes at Merle, silently challenging him to take one more step out of line.
The older Dixon didn't hesitate as he ignored her boy and continued to debate with Glenn. "And they will," he finished before his eyes flicked to address Carl. "Sorry, son, but your dad's head could be on a pike real soon," Merle lifted his chin and Lori's eyes flicked to her son who was making his way out of the room.
Blood boiling Lori quickly set the dishes down into the water and reached for the towel to dry her hands, already making her way around the table towards the cage where Merle leaned against the doorway. She was stopped by Maggie's level voice warning the man, "Don't say that to him."
Still ticking with anger Lori clenched her teeth and changed her course to head for the door where Carl had gone. Merle Dixon wasn't worth a single breath.
XXXX
Michonne stepped away from Merle and headed toward the back exit that would take her to the third guard tower. She'd decided that she would take watch that night, eager to get away from everyone else and spend some time on her own. She hoped Rick wouldn't have any objections about her plan when he got back –she'd have to do whatever he wanted if she wanted to stay with the group.
She knew that they still didn't trust her and she was determined to whatever it took to change that. Tossing her bag down at the foot of the stairs, she headed into one of the unoccupied cells to take a mattress. She stopped when she heard a gasp and soft whimper, and took the few steps that took her to the next cell. She kept her distance, peering through the gap in the sheet that had been hung up to create some privacy.
When the other woman hissed, Michonne cleared her throat. "You okay?" she asked, turning her back to lean against the wall beside the door way. "You need help or somethin'?"
Lori seemed to hesitate before answering. "Just for a minute," she admitted, her voice distant and unsure. Michonne had known from the second that she'd met the other woman that she was warm, but fiercely protective of her children and that that would drive her to but up almost insurmountable barriers. As Michonne entered the small cell Lori's eyes cast nervously towards the playpen that barely fit between the wall and the head of the bunk.
"I'm tryin' to get these sheets on the mattress," Lori explained, holding up the corner closest to herself. "I can't bend over to get the back corner," she admitted with a nervous laugh, almost self conscious.
Michonne eyed her for a moment, still standing in the periphery of the room. The other woman looked like hell, but having a newborn could do that to a person without even having survived an emergency c-section performed without any anaesthetic and by an amateur surgeon at that. There was something else there besides being in pain though, an heir of insincerity that the other woman didn't seem to have with the others in the group.
"Or not," Lori's green eyes swept over her before she turned back to the bed, worrying the sheets between her fingers.
Realizing that she'd been considering the other woman for too long, Michonne moved forward and took the sheets off her. "Here," she stepped into the Lori's space cautiously and slowly enough that she would be able to move to accommodate her. Leaning over the bed she lifted the mattress to put the elastic around its corner. From her vantage point she glanced into the crib where the newborn girl was sleeping. "Carl's a good kid," she offered to break the awkward silence. "Courageous and smart."
Lori hummed in agreement, picking up the pillows that she'd balanced on the edge of the crib. "Wish I could say he got that from me," the corner of her mouth twitched upwards. "But he's all Rick."
Michonne considered Lori's words as she moved to do the last corner at the foot of the bed. "You seem pretty brave yourself after what you've been through," she countered, ducking to clear the top bunk as she stood up.
"Oh, I was just there," Lori dismissed the compliment with a light wrinkling of her nose as took a seat on the mattress, working a pillow into a case. She kept her focus on her task for a few seconds.
Nodding, Michonne glanced around the cell one more time before turning to leave. "Gotta be hard having two kids in this world and feelin' like you can't protect them," she commented, drawing the curtain back to make her exit. "I want you to know Carl's a good kid… Between the two of us and everyone else standin' in the way, I think it would be damn near impossible to get near him."
She was just pulling the curtain back into place when Lori lifted her eyes.
"Thanks you," she whispered, her mask falling away to expose a vulnerability that she hadn't allowed Michonne to see before. "I hope you're right."
XXXXX
Lori listened to the sound of water trickling in the cage where she'd set up a basin of hot water for Carl to wash. He'd argued with her every step of the way until she'd shoved him into the small room that she'd sealed off with sheets, hiding everything except his ankles and feet.
"Water's practically ice," he muttered, splashing more water on the floor.
Lori glanced down to watch the small stream trickling into the drain not far from the cage. "Make sure you get behind your ears," she reminded him. "They're startin' to smell worse than your feet."
He grumbled again before he reached his hand out between the sheets, demanding, "Clothes."
Setting down her sewing, Lori picked up his boxers and t-shirt and made her way over to him, taking a moment to inspect between his fingers and under his nails before handing him the clothes. "You're going to be grateful tonight when you're clean as you crawl into fresh sheets," informed him, heading back to her work station. Sitting down, she picked up his pants and began working the needle though the fabric again.
"Yeah, well, I would be more grateful if we had a real shower." The curtain pulled back to reveal her son, his hair dripping wet, soaking his t-shirt.
Sighing, Lori motioned for him to come closer. "We all would," she quipped, taking his towel from his hands to dry his hair. "Could use a cut too."
"No way," he argued, stepping back from her, holding his hands up. Before she could stop him he headed for the cellblock leaving a trail of wet footprints behind him. As he jogged through the doorway he passed Rick who quickly sidestepped the boy to avoid being jackknifed.
Her husband looked beat, but he offered her a teasing smile as he walked towards her. "Torturing him again with bathing?" he asked, tossing his towel down on the table beside her as he leaned into press a kiss to the corner of her mouth.
"I try to do it at least once a month," she sighed, glancing down at the terry-cloth. "You up next?" When he nodded she got to her feet, bracing her hands on the table before her. She hadn't expected him to want a bath after the day he'd had – he'd been distant and out of sorts since returning from his meeting with the Governor. She supposed the idea of going to war was enough to put anyone off.
Picking up the bucket she bit into her lower lip as her incision pulled. Tilting the basin over, she poured the murky contents onto the floor, cringing at the brownish tint, like pond water. She was glad that she had forced Carl to wash, even if it meant he was going to be short with her for the rest of the night.
Rick took the basin from her as she exited the cell and she led him over to where the previously boiled water was still steaming. She didn't argue when he poured it himself, glad that at least one of the males her in family could take care of themselves. Lori followed him back to the cage to make sure he had everything then turned to leave, but was stopped by his hand closing around her wrist. "Stay," he requested, pulling her hand up to press a kiss to her knuckles.
Lori's brow knitted as she watched his expression – something was troubling him, more than just his announcement. "Baby, what is it?" she asked, lifting her hand to rest it against his cheek. When he lowered his eyes, a direct refusal to answer the question, she was torn about whether to press him or not. She decided to let it go for now – they could talk later when he'd had a chance to process his thoughts more.
Dropped her hands to the hem of his brown shirt, she worked her way up, undoing the buttons before she pushed the clothing back off his shoulders. Next his undershirt lifted over his head, and then she left him to get his pants while she lathered up the facecloth, taking a seat on the bench. He kneeled down before her, his head bent down as though praying, and she frowned. Rick barely reacted when she poured water over his hair to dampen his curls before she began to work the shampoo through them.
"Everything's going to be okay," she promised, lifting his chin to force him to look at her. "I promise."