December 11, 2010

~*~ DD ~*~

Lori's suggestion that he take the kids out is something he needs to thank her for. The tension that lurked during the hours of waiting, both before Terminus was retaken and after for their people and the refugees to return, finally ebbs out of him. He doesn't need the personal stories to read what happened to those folks. He is just glad that the ones he cares for would be a much tougher opponent for such brutality. Even Lori, although her bulky pregnancy and lack of intense self-defense training makes it difficult, would be a vicious surprise to the unwary, he thinks.

Soon as the baby arrives, he's going to coax her into the martial arts training if it kills him.

"Raccoon, right, Daddy?"

He looks at the print at the edge of the creek that meanders through the horse farm and nods. "How can you tell?"

"Looks like a person's hand, kinda."

"What makes it different from a possum, Carl?"

"Everything points forward on the rear footprint."

"Think your mama would get mad if we brought it home for supper?" he teases.

"Maybe. Think she likes the birds you bring better than the furry critters."

"Guess she'll be really happy to see your grouse then."

Carl's grin is wide enough to break the boy's face. He's got three of the birds tied to his belt. Daryl's got two and Abby one. She's learning birds are a different sort of shot than rabbits or squirrel, and her patience isn't quite there yet.

"Starting to get dark though," Abby grumbles.

Daryl assesses the sun's position and agrees. "Let's trek back to the truck before we hit full dark."

They all have just-in-case gear, same way he hunted even before the world went to shit, but radio contact or not, Lori will have his balls if he keeps the kids outside the thicket's protection after dark.

"Daryl? Think we can invite Dad for supper when we eat the grouse?"

"For your first birds? Course we will." Daryl hung onto the rooftop grudge almost as long as Honey, probably because Rick tried so hard to justify what he did, but eventually he had to concede what Scout did early on. Can't blame a man a week out of a coma for poor judgment. He's held steady in the months since, and while he doesn't have the easy friendship with Lori's official ex that he has with Shane, they're getting there. Even if they weren't, he would invite him for dinner for Carl's sake.

Carl leads the way back to Daryl's old Ford, with Flurry trotting at his heels. The dog did well on the hunting portion of the trip, flushing the grouse out twice. If Carl's still got his heart set on a hunting dog, he thinks his final vote's with the big female. He just isn't mentioning to the teenager that her sheer size potential is part of it. She'll be as viable a protector of Carl as Augustus is for Honey. Livia was sold to him as pure catahoula, but when she neared Augustus in size, Daryl knew there was something else in the mix and didn't bother challenging the papers he was given since Honey loved the dog regardless. It gives Flurry an advantage as a female, since she's not full grown and already bigger than most full-grown catahoula females he's seen hunting.

They make good time to the truck, and since they're in a fairly open area, he figures what the hell.

"Want a driving lesson, Carl?"

That grin's worth asking forgiveness versus permission with Lori later.

~*~ MD ~*~

By supper, seven of the Terminants venture into the community center for dinner, four of them children. He's not surprised in the least that one of them's Gareth, accompanied by a woman he introduces as Cynthia. The other adult is Myra, who carefully flanks the smaller woman between her and Gareth. All three seem barely able to keep their eyes off the children, although he knows from Gareth's census that these three have no children and that most of the Terminus child survivors are orphans now.

He's even less surprised when Lori makes her way to sit with the Terminants when he and Carol finish leading them through the line. Daryl's not here yet, radioing in they had game to clean first. For people who just survived a new kind of hell on earth, seeing a healthy pregnant woman safe and secure is a good plan for settling nerves. Patricia's watching with eagle eyes, but she's at that stage of pregnancy where once seated, moving's only for bathroom breaks til the meal's done.

Carol and Lori engage the two women in the usual commentary about Lori's pregnancy, but the questions seem a little pointed, and Carol nudges him under the table. He puts the clues together. He's guessing Cynthia's the pregnant woman, since Myra's of an age where it would be less likely, closer to Gareth's mother Mary.

If that's the case, maybe he should press harder for these folks to stay put, although if he keeps their new home close, they've proven today they can move fast in a medical emergency.

"Thought of another idea I missed earlier," he ventures to Gareth.

The younger man draws his attention away from talk of babies to raise a brow.

"Would you be opposed to a prison as a setting? There's one about half an hour from here, old world times. Had a pretty good overhaul and update on the taxpayer dime a few years ago under some pilot program about being self-sustaining. Held medium security offenders, mostly short timers, plus a boot camp program, and a young adult unit."

"I remember the news about that. Off-grid power, all the prisoners have to be work release eligible?"

"That's the one. They sent work details out to the whole county there and the local towns, the Guard armory, DOT, whatever government program needed them. The vocational training facilities should be good for a new community, and the fencing will already be pretty secure as long as no one brings in something ugly like a tank."

"Wouldn't it be difficult to clear out? I don't imagine the governor thought of pardoning those men when things went bad."

"Capacity there's less than a thousand. If they're trapped behind fences or in cells, that's not a hard herd to thin out if need be. And the guards probably set some prisoners free, considering the boot camp guys are near release anyway. We haven't really checked it out yet despite it being in our zone we're clearing, since we had easier priorities to target."

"It's worth a look."

Merle hesitated to offer the prison as an option after their ordeal, but he can see that like him, the Terminus leader can see the value in locking themselves in. A 'cupcake' prison isn't going to be high on anyone's list to raid. He's sure they have an armory there, but it's unlikely to be anything near what the big units carry.

"We'll pencil it in for next week. Take a couple of teams out with some of your people and assess if it'll work. If not, we'll move on to the other ideas we came up with." Those are less secure: schools, old lodges, the convent at one of the old lakes. They'll need more work to be off-grid too.

"We won't have foraging targets to report to you as much anymore."

"Ain't about that. We'll get you set up, if you insist your people need to stay separate. Make sure you get on the way to self-sustaining. It's to our benefit to have an ally out there, Gareth. Grow crops, raise some critters, maybe have your people pick up some skills we don't have here if you're not out on the road looking for supplies all the time. And it might be worth considering to winter here, move out in the spring. Just a suggestion."

"You've got the space?"

"The families have been slowly building cabins, so more of the apartments are opening up as we go. There's another set of bunkhouses like your people are already in, down on the other end. And I promise you, there's no team here that will turn down an extra set of hands or not be willing to train someone."

Gareth looks like he's thinking it over, eyes scanning the content residents sharing supper. Merle imagines he's also noticing something different from Terminus - that everyone here over the age of ten or so is openly armed with at least a knife, and the majority of adults have a holstered firearm.

"Carol." He draws her attention and she drops out of the conversation with the women to smile at him. "You got any of those welcome packet notebooks handy?"

"About half a dozen."

All three adult Terminants are attentive now. "Carol put together notebooks that explain how things work around here. Work crews, schooling for the kids, training for the adults, that sorta thing."

Gareth looks to Cynthia and then Myra. Both nod. "If we still leave, whether in the near future or in the spring, would your people be willing to take in the children?"

"We can find families for the ones without parents, but didn't you say that two of them have their mother with them?"

"They do, but I suspect she would prefer to stay here, where there is the potential for schooling and apprenticeship for herself and the children," Myra says. "And she's likely to need medical oversight a lot longer than anyone else."

Ah. That means the woman who was shot is the children's mother, since the other severely injured patient isn't old enough. "She's welcome as well. Anyone who wants to stay will be welcome."

"I'll talk it over with my mother and brother and we'll bring you a decision."

"No rush on it. Don't gotta know right away."

Honey rambles by, yawning, and draws his attention away. "You gonna get a nap before your shift?"

"Heading that way now." She pauses long enough to drop a kiss on top of first Carol's and then his head, grinning.

When she's wandered toward the door and bundling up, he turns back to his audience.

"What happened with her arm?" Cynthia asks, the first words he's heard the woman speak.

"We had an incident here, fight between two of the guys, and she bailed in to help break it up. Banged her arm on a table in the process."

"And the men in question?"

"It's not a disagreement they plan to repeat."

Carol coughs to cover a laugh. "She did deploy that taser on him."

"Is that why she's armed now?" Gareth is certainly concerned, and then Merle realizes the issue may be the usual issue with Honey.

"How old do you think she is?" he asks.

"Fifteen, maybe sixteen?"

"She's eighteen, and honestly, as independent as all my daughters are, that one would battle me the hardest if I tried to be overprotective." It's the wonder of Honey's personality. The only one who wanted to stay local, in the family business even, yet nothing lit her temper faster than feeling she was being considered too young for something. "She was armed that day, but since she wasn't willing to shoot him for a fist fight, she tased him instead. She trains hard with the ex-cops and military here, so you don't need to worry for her."

"And her shift?"

"Normally, she splits time between the building crew and being a sub for the run teams when someone needs time off. But she's off both duties until the cast comes off permanently, so she's taken a night watch shift while the woman that normally does it takes her spot on the building crew. Makes her a day sleeper, but we were on alert today, so she's napping now."

Gareth still looks a little worried, but Cynthia settles, which settles Myra. He suspects it's easier to reassure a woman that another female's capable sometimes.

"Y'all gonna stay for the movie?" Carol asks as people start folding and storing the tables closest to the wall they use for the movie projection. "It's Finding Nemo tonight."

Gareth shakes his head, but some of the children look hopeful, and he sighs. "Maybe they could stay, if someone could look after them?"

Lori volunteers easily. "And there are plenty of DVDs and games in the cabinets, if you want to take them back to the bunkhouses for the others."

"They would probably enjoy that in addition to the art supplies and books that the teenage girls brought by."

"Do the adults need anything? Books, puzzle books, music?" Merle's glad Carol's thinking to offer. He's not sure any of the Terminus survivors want to sit around in their own thoughts at the moment.

"DVDs and games should work for tonight, maybe some books? They can be more specific tomorrow."

"Sounds good. How about the three of you walk down to the building we're putting our library in with me and pick out some things?" Carol offers.

"Jasper! You and Sophia come help your mama," Merle calls out when Gareth agrees. Normally, he might not send Jazz to help, because he can't imagine the boy's size is any comfort around traumatized women, but the teenager was with him when he installed the solar panels. These women know Jazz, and when Cynthia's bruised face lights up when the teenager approaches, he knows it's the right call.

With the teenagers in tow, Carol leads the three Terminants outside, while Lori smiles and moves down a few seats to face the children as Daryl, Carl, and Abby join them with hastily grabbed plates. Abby engages the quiet children with ease. Knowing the four kids are in good hands, he goes to join the dish duty he just summoned the two teenagers away from.

He isn't sure the Terminus survivors will stay, is almost certain they'll go come spring and a safe property to go to, but Homestead will do their best by them.

~*~ EP ~*~

Eugene can't settle, can't sleep, even though he knows he should since he's on watch tonight. He knows that Terminus' own policies of open admission aren't followed here, and no one could take over the property, but he was present when the Huey landed and those women taken off. The apocalypse is turning too many into animals without benefit of the walker virus.

It's cold, but outside at least he can mess with his telescope. It's not a terribly useful hobby now, unless they were travelling by night, he supposes, but it's soothing. He's taking notes, as he always does, when he hears his name called out.

Honey's at the top of the stairs on her own side, bundled against the cold much like he is. She tugs her balaclava down to smile at him. "Can't sleep either?"

"I am unable to settle down long enough to try."

She glances at her door and sighs. "I don't think I can either. Want some company?"

"I would enjoy that. But perhaps we should try a game or television?" Being inside by himself didn't appeal, and he knew Rosita was at the movie. Abraham's yet to forgive him, so that wasn't an option and he suspects the big man is probably blind drunk by now after going on the Terminus mission today.

"Sure. Could bring the sheep game."

"I suppose. Or we could play one of mine."

She doesn't go inside, so he supposes she's agreeing to his offer, jogging down her stairs and up his with athletic ease he envies. He leaves the telescope in place on the porch, because no one here will bother it. The tiny apartment doesn't lend to company well, but it's not the first time she's played some game or another here, since her schedule and her roommate's are often at odds with sharing their apartment for anything but sleep.

"Rummikub or Tsuro?"

"Tsuro." She piles her gear on the recliner, obviously intent on her usual spot at the foot of his bed for the game. He gets the game out, but notices she's distracted in a way she isn't normally. Worse than that, she's as still as he's ever seen her, sitting with her back against the wall and her arms around her knees.

"Hannah?"

She doesn't respond and he leaves the game box on the counter. "Hannah? Are you okay?"

She blinks a little, then shake her head. He's not sure what he should do, since she's normally the driving force in their odd little friendship. So, he goes to sit beside her, thinking over the day they all had.

"Oh. You were assisting at the infirmary." It's foolish that he didn't think of that right away.

Honey slides her hand in his. "Today wasn't the first time we've dealt with rapists," she says softly. "The first time, we couldn't save any victims, but I got to help make sure no one else got hurt. Was part of the teams that went to Grady too. Grady was bad, but the scale of Terminus... How can men do things like that?"

The cowardly part of him wishes she asked the question of any of the men in her family, not him. He knows his own proclivities are not the social norm. But never once in his life has he ever considered forcing a woman. He would have no value in a group of men like the bandits killed today, because he can't comprehend their impulses.

"I don't think anyone decent will ever be able to explain how men like those exist," he manages. Her hand flexes in his. She's seeking comfort he doesn't really know how to give.

She doesn't press him further, but doesn't let his hand go either. She picks at the seam of her jeans with her free hand. "It wouldn't be like that here."

"No, I am certain that the women and men here would not go down easily. It's part of what all the training is about, correct? Self-defense? After all, it was women who took down Abraham the day he lost his temper with me." The evidence of that is in the brightly-colored splinted cast she still wears. He replaced the periodic table on it at her request. It reminds him that he's still not certain of why her particular friendship is focused on him. He asked Rosita once and the woman just laughed and told him to enjoy it.

"A lot of the men died." She's looking distressed as she turns to him. "When we can train again, you'll let me teach you more than just how to shoot, won't you?"

It's a dilemma he's pondered after each checkup shows his fractured orbital is healing cleanly. Physical combat never has appealed to him, not even for self-defense. It's why so many people died protecting him on the way from Texas, taking chances they shouldn't because he wasn't even allowed the risk to try to help. It's the worst part of his lie, one he's talked to her about before.

"I will try." He would rather learn from her than from one of the Marines or ex-cops who run the self-defense classes. Rosita would probably teach him as well. He knows some men would be shamed by knowing women could best them in a physical contest of strength, and both Honey and Rosita will probably wipe the floor with him at first. But he thinks it would be less disheartening than having one of the men do the same. Comparing himself to the physical capabilities of men already combat capable would not inspire him to succeed.

"Eugene? You know you can learn all that, right? It's just muscle memory, letting your mind take the lead until the muscles repeat it."

He looks away from her earnest expression. "Athletic endeavors have never been in my field of capability." Shooting he actually understands. It's mathematics and physics and once he saw the rifle as an extension of his mind like any other lab equipment would be, it became easy to progress. It's precise and doesn't require a level of coordination he struggles with.

"Did you know my brother has Asperger's?"

Eugene stiffens. It's a word he's familiar with, and one he tries his best to ignore. The diagnosis didn't help him one bit, other than to add another label to the many of how he's different from the majority of his fellow humans. But Jazz is nothing like him. He's well-spoken, if a little quiet; athletic and supremely coordinated; and socially popular in a way Eugene never could be.

"We found out when he was ten. He used to be really clumsy. Could trip over nothing but air. He had a physical therapist suggest coordination drills. That's actually how we all got into lacrosse. The hand-eye coordination and footwork, once he finally got it down pat, helped with the everyday stuff too. He likes the rules too. Says things are more black and white in sports than in other things."

When she squeezes his hand again, he realizes she's always very careful in touching him. Today's probably the first time she's ever taken his hand or elbow without telegraphing it enough to allow him to sidestep the contact, the same with the hugs she's begun dispensing to him as easily as anyone else she seems to see as 'hers'. He never has, mostly because there's an innate trust she isn't about to overwhelm him. Women usually aren't a problem with that. It's big, bold men like Abraham who equates slapping a man on the shoulders with enough force to knock one over as appropriate that really irk him.

He thinks about her contact with her brother, more tactile than with him, but never with the brash physicality she has with the others in her family. He's seen her slide an arm around Jazz and lean into his greater height, but compared to the fact that he's seen her take a run at her father, Daryl, Jamie, and Shane to claim a piggyback ride, her behavior toward Jazz - and himself - is subdued.

"How did you hazard a guess that my affliction was similar?"

That gets a big reaction and she's a little angry. "It's not an affliction and someone in your past needs to be punched if they called it that."

"Then you would probably have punched a lot of people," he admits softly. Abraham is unique among the males he's known, who seems to find Eugene's speech patterns and habits quirky and amusing, or at least he did. He might be like most others now. Rosita gets annoyed by how he speaks, but usually lets him ramble because she likes the knowledge he imparts. These past months are the longest he's spent with anyone not required to spend time with him due to work, and he doesn't think they would have valued him outside of the lie.

Honey knows he lied though. She was there when he admitted to it. She chose to be his friend anyway, and Rosita is still his friend. He's actually beginning to think a few others here are honestly friendly.

"But it's the way you talk," she answers once she calms down from that outburst. "Jazz spoke the same way when he was younger. People called him the 'little professor'." She smiles, obviously seeing it as a sweet memory of her younger brother. "But when he got older, there were bullies. He had a speech therapist for a while. It's why most people don't notice it any more, unless you get him really started on a subject he's passionate about."

"It doesn't bother you, the manner in which I speak? I think speech therapy is a little beyond our adaptations now."

She shakes her head. "I like the way you speak. I don't want you to change it."

He can't help himself from hugging her and she puts far more force into her return hug than he's used to. He realizes she's still angry on his behalf at people who are probably walking caricatures of themselves now. She doesn't let go or push him away as if the hug's on a timer. So, he says as soft as he can against her ear. "Thank you."

When he does let her go, she retakes his hand, keeping the gap between them bridged. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"It is not your fault, Hannah. If you truly think it is worth the effort to train me, I will endeavor to give it my best."

"It's worth the effort even if you don't learn a damned thing," she mutters. "You're my friend."

He smiles at her grumpy expression, despite his own misgivings. "You must be. I've never had anyone else willing to watch Star Trek with me."

Her glance goes toward the TV, but the case nearby isn't Trek right now. "Hey, you started Farscape without me?"

He just reaches for the remote and restarts the season one DVD. He'll rewatch all of them for the joy of having a friend excited to share them.

~*~ CP ~*~

Carol leaves Gareth and the two ladies to distribute everything from the library and sends Jazz and Sophia back to enjoy the movie. She knows it's one of Sophia's favorites. She's debating going to the infirmary or the house when Merle steps out of the community center bundled up enough she supposes he's heading home.

He smiles as she reaches him on her path to intercept his, reaching out to hook her under his arm as they walk.

"Do you think they'll stay?"

She shakes her head. "The winter, maybe. But I think here won't be enough of a fresh start for the ones wanting to leave their nightmares behind."

"Leaves us five kids to place, no matter what. Patricia doesn't need more fosterlings."

"I think Jacqui and Jim might take the girls. He's been getting steadily better, and maybe being a father again might at least help him the rest of the way. But girls, not the boys. I don't think he could manage to not feel like boys would be trying to replace his sons."

Merle nods in agreement. "Suppose so. And the two boys?"

"I'm going to ask Tyreese and Karen. I figure at some point, they'll probably join the baby boom, but Julie's pretty much grown. He'll make a good dad to half-grown boys." Derrick's seven and Ashton's nine. Big, gentle teddy bear Tyreese would make a great dad for them. Many of the Grady kids, with what they survived and witnessed, flock to the ex-football player.

"Three girls is a lot for Jim and Jacqui to take on."

"I know. Do you think Shane and Scout might be willing?" The girls are a similar age to the boys: seven, nine, and eleven. Shane and Scout are heroes to those kids, but they're busy and both off property a lot. At least with Jacqui and Karen, it's just the women who are gone most days.

He's thinking it over. "I think that you should at least ask, before any of the kids are settled. Let them see if that's a place they think they can go, especially with the baby on the way."

"I will, in the morning, before they go out." She sighs as they make it to the deck stairs. "There's a possibility of another."

"Gareth's little lady? I figured that out from the conversation."

She shakes her head, feeling her stomach lurch a little, like it had during the exam she performed. "All the women were offered Plan B. Two refused, and one's at the right time for it to be a risk."

"Oh, hell. Some damned strong women."

"Yeah." She can't imagine what it would take for her to be able to carry a child to term that she didn't conceive voluntarily. "One asked me, if it came to pass, if I could find the baby a home. I told her yes."

"Told her right then. If the mama's strong enough to bring the baby into the world, then we can certainly find someone to love it. Us maybe. Some folks would have a hard time with the nature of things."

There's a look on his face as he opens their bedroom door for her that reminds her of just what sort of man Will Dixon was, the legacy Merle fought to overcome. She thinks without a doubt that he would never blink at adopting a child with a history like this. She's not sure even to this day that Merle's own conception isn't a mirror of this potential child they're discussing. She's entirely certain Daryl's was. She's heard some of Merle's nightmares.

Getting ready for bed is a quiet process, and she cuddles close to him, needing the comfort. There was the worry and agitation while the teams were gone. Not knowing if any of their people would fall victim to the bandits while saving their neighbors. It's the first time she was grateful for Honey's broken arm, because the teenager would have fought at her father's side without a doubt. What she saw, working in the infirmary, was bad enough. Most were cleaned up and had some medical care by the time they arrived at Homestead.

She doesn't have to ask to know how bad it was. She's seen the haunted looks on the experienced cops and military. She stitched damage today that she hoped to only ever read about or to have seen after a difficult childbirth. Terminus was the stuff of nightmares.

Tonight will be a rough one for both of them, she thinks, and she hopes whatever monster crawls up into Merle's dreams holds the faces of the men killed today and nothing more.

~*~ TD ~*~

T-Dog stands as Lilly makes her way inside in a gust of cold, Domino at her heels. Meghan glances up from her coloring book to give her mother a gap-toothed smile.

"Christian's sleeping," she announces, pointing to the guard rail on the bottom bunk that turns it into a crib.

"So, I see. Were you good for Theo?"

"Yep! We watched a Chipmunks cartoon, and since he's already Theodore, I'm gonna be Alvin and Christian is gonna be Simon."

Lilly laughs as she passes off bits of her winter wear to T-Dog. He just shrugs with a smile. If the six-year-old wants him to be the chubby youngest cartoon chipmunk, that's what he'll be.

"Why don't you go get ready for bed?"

Meghan nods, jamming the crayon in her hand back in the box and dropping the book and box in the backpack on her bunk post as she grabs pajamas from under her pillow.

"Did they both behave well for you?" Lilly asks.

He smiles. "They were both good. He lasted about ten minutes after you got called away."

"I'm starting to think the universe is against me dating," she says ruefully.

Considering today's events and the images he can't unsee, he understands. Tonight was their fifth date since she first asked him over for a movie after Thanksgiving. All of them were interrupted by a need for a female nurse. She offered to cancel at supper, but the last thing he wanted was his empty apartment after what he's seen today. Chipmunk cartoons with Meghan and babysitting Christian for Cricket and Tara is a perfect evening.

He hears the shower kick on and leans in for a kiss. She's chilled from the run to the nursing home and back, so he cups his warm hands along the sides of her face even after the kiss ends.

"How's Miz Lavinia?"

"As ornery as ever. Felipe could have handled it, but she's so picky about that catheter. He didn't want to pull Cricket away from the hospital tonight."

"Can't blame him there." He lets her lead him to the tiny couch and sits beside her.

"I can't imagine what y'all walked into there."

He wishes he couldn't. The bandits were unprepared, and that helped, but the one he knifed was still breathing when he made sure he was dead and couldn't turn. He saw the knowledge in his teammates' eyes when he came back through the window. None of them judged him. But it's not something he wants here, in this cheery place with children and cartoons and a woman who spends her time saving lives, not taking them.

What he did today was necessary to save the women of Terminus and protect the ones here. It's not the first time he's killed a man since the world ended. He wishes it didn't haunt him. There is no question of the man's guilt.

She seems to understand he's unsettled and curls into him. The scent of her coconut shampoo overrides the memory of the way that RV smelled. This is clean and pure and lovely.

"Theo?"

"Hmm?"

"Stay the night."

"You sure?" That's the line they haven't crossed yet. After letting himself lose control on Halloween, he's been extra careful with this budding relationship. They made out like teenagers, but second or third date sex like the old world isn't what he's looking for, especially not from a single mother.

She pulls away so she can kiss him in answer. He's still trying to catch his breath, smiling up at her, when the shower cuts off.

"There's no way you got good and clean that fast, missy." Lilly's up and off the couch to go chastise her daughter in person. Domino raises her furry head and gives him a look that makes him laugh. He's not used to their routines yet either.

He relaxes back against the couch and grins as mother and daughter bicker their way through a post-shower routine. And when bedtime for Meghan includes climbing up to kiss him on the cheek goodnight, he knows he's staying.

Honestly, he may never leave.