December 24, 2010
~*~ RG ~*~
Rick hums softly as he trots up the stairs to his place, laughing when he realizes it's Frosty the Snowman. He made a courtesy visit to see the new baby and spend a little time with Carl. Apparently, Christmas Eve is going to be one very massive sleepover in the Dixon basement.
He paused at the stairs to Rosita's, remembering his conversation with Lori. But her lights were off, so he figured she's asleep or not home.
Opening his own door reveals at least part of the answer to whether or not she's living with him. She's not under the covers, but she is sound asleep on his bed in warm pajamas. The TV is flickering on the menu screen of one of the SVU discs. He wonders if she fell asleep before or after watching.
He sets about getting ready for bed, smiling a little when he notes that, yes, she does have a significant amount of toiletries in the tiny bathroom. He plunks his toothbrush in the holder next to hers. If he had any doubts, the box of tampons in the wire shelf under the sink eliminates those.
When she doesn't wake to him calling her name, he slips his arms under her and lifts. She does wake then, blinking sleepily and then putting her arms around his neck to kiss him.
"Long day?" he asks, knowing she went out with Daryl's team today so Christopher could stay home in case he was needed. He manages to get the blankets pulled back with her holding on and slides her back to the bed.
She yawns and nods. "That man ever says, 'hey, I need an extra hand on a hunt', I'm going to hide. I thought, maybe deer or rabbits. Not something out of a wildlife documentary."
He starts laughing, continuing even when she pretends to scowl. He did see the hunting teams return, with their loads of field dressed water buffalo. With the count delivered to Hershel reminding him their numbers were intended for the exotic meat market and not wintering without human help outside their native climate, the vet's authorized a hunt of young males.
"Sorry," he says at last and kisses her before slipping into bed with her. "You feeling okay?"
She curls into him, but her posture isn't relaxed. "Nothing more Midol won't cure," she mumbles and looks at the clock. "In two more hours."
"Alright. Hold on a minute."
He leaves her curled in bed and goes to fumble behind the towels for the hot water bottle and fills it. "Stomach or back?"
She eyes the hot water bottle and snags it to tuck against her lower belly. "Well, if I didn't believe you were married more than a decade, I do now. Why do you have a hot water bottle?"
He taps his ribs near the gun shot scar. "Ribs get achy sometimes where they put them back together. They offered me a heating pad, but the bottle works better. You finish the DVD or not get started?"
"Didn't get started."
He sets the DVD to play and maneuvers over her to take the spot by the wall and smiles when she moves back into his warmth.
"Had a conversation about you with Lori today."
She looks startled, so he explains. "She works in the laundry part of the week, and that little satin thing from earlier this week went in with mine."
"Oh God, that had to be awkward."
"Not as bad as I would have guessed. Just a little teasing, actually." He glances at the episode playing and reaches out to the remote to pause it.
"I asked her if living together already is too fast."
She's gone really still and isn't looking at him. "What did she say?"
"Well, first she pointed out her very pregnant belly. Then she suggested I talk to you before you decided I wasn't interested in anything long term."
Now he's got her full attention and those big, heavily lashed eyes on him. "And is that what you're interested in?"
"Yeah. I know it's fast, but coming home and finding you here just makes me even more sure." He kisses her, feeling her smile. "Like an early Christmas present."
"You'll forgive me if it's a few days before you unwrap it?"
"Sex was not the present part. Having someone to come home to was."
"Ah, hell. You are too damn sweet for your own good." Her smile fades though. "I haven't met your son yet."
"Carl will love you." Rick's sure of that. Kickass, capable Rosita will fall right into the teenager's cast of heroes. "I'm probably over halfway there myself."
It's an uneasy admission to make since they've never discussed her breakup with Abraham.
"You really do put yourself out there, officer."
"Too much, too soon?"
"Not at all." She draws him in for a lingering kiss. "Might take me a bit longer to get there. You good with that?"
"Yeah. I'm a very patient man."
She ends the intensity of the moment with a yawn that sets them both laughing.
"You rest. I'm watching some Benson."
But despite being tired, she lets him curl around her and makes sleepy commentary about the show. When she does drift off, he shuts the TV off and just enjoys the fact that she wants to stay.
~*~ Axel ~*~
Axel's closest to the door when the knock comes, so he looks out the window and then opens it to find the Dixon boy waiting patiently in the cold.
"Is Titus over here? Lights were out on his RV and I didn't want to wake him if he was sleeping."
"Yeah. Tiny! You got company." It's an unnecessary summons, considering the big guy can see the doorway from where he's sitting on the couch in Oscar's RV. Even after several days here and the arrival of Oscar's family, they still tend to cluster in Oscar's RV right at bedtime.
Jazz just smiles. "You don't have to get up." He gives a command in that soft language Axel's heard several of the Dixons use and one of the big spotted hunting hounds steps into the light circle from the doorway. "I have a Christmas present for you."
The way Tiny's face lights up makes even Axel's jaded ass want to smile, especially when he snaps his fingers and the dog pops through the door and manages to get into his lap.
"You're giving me Romeo?" he says softly, scratching the dog's ears.
"My sister said you could have any of the remaining six, and you always seem to like him best. I know you've missed your dogs from before."
"Thank you." Tiny's voice is near inaudible from emotion, but his smile looks like it'll break his face as he cuddles about seventy pounds of half-grown dog as if he were a pup.
"Merry Christmas, Titus. See you for morning milking?"
Tiny nods, but then Jazz glances to Oscar's two boys, who are playing cards at the table. "We've got a fairly big party going, kids and teenagers, if y'all wanted to come."
The older boy, Anthony, looks wary of the invitation, but the younger, Zaire, wants to go, Axel can tell. When Oscar gives permission, Anthony looks disgruntled, but follows as his brother heads out with barely a goodbye. He isn't going to leave the thirteen-year-old out of his sight in what's still a strange place to him after two days.
Axel watches until the three boys make the turn out of sight around the main house where he knows the basement access is before shutting the door.
"Don't think I'm ever going to get quite used to this place," he says, taking a seat at the table.
Oscar's watching Tiny with the dog and actually smiling for once. "They helped me get my family to a safer place. No need for me to get used to anything after that."
Yeah, Axel thinks his two friends are Homestead to the core now, between the rescue of Oscar's still large family and the generous way everyone they've encountered has treated Tiny. Granted, they're used to giant men, considering Jasper Dixon seems to be trying to gain on Tiny in height and several other men aren't exactly in Axel's size range. But it's not just that they aren't afraid of Tiny's size. They're actually drawing him in and keeping him advancing. Obviously, someone also paid attention to the fact that Tiny's been longing for another dog, since his graduated from the training program at the prison about a week before everything went crazy.
Not that he can complain about his own treatment. Good food, good clothes, and a generous ability to choose what he does. There's still just enough structure to the community that he doesn't feel adrift after so many years inside, not like he did the other time he served and got paroled. It'd be better if so many of the more interesting women weren't obviously unobtainable, but he really can't complain.
And Oscar and Tiny were right about the man on one of the lead teams having his own prison history. Carlos just shrugged and said he spent more time in than out before the world ended, but no one here gives two shits about crimes that aren't violence against people who can't defend themselves. He's the one who told them Merle served for beating the holy shit out of a woman beater in a bar parking lot and warned Axel that what happened with Andrew isn't the first time they've put down predators when they weren't actively fighting back.
"You gonna start on building a cabin?" Axel asks. The credits system makes plenty of sense, although he doesn't see needing to do the kind of trade or spending to build a place. Once things are more settled with the attacked group, he'll be perfectly happy with one of those little tin can apartments up in the Village. But Oscar's got teenagers here.
"Not for me. I'll take an apartment when the time comes, maybe. But gonna combine my credits with Nichelle's to build for her and the boys. Might not be married anymore, but she's done most of their raising before now. You gonna help?"
"Course I will." He's hitched his wagon to these two men since the day Oscar crossed the racial lines and got the Mexicans off his back in exchange for making sure Tiny got enough extra at meal times not to be half-starved all the time. Easiest damn prison transaction he ever did, especially when Oscar traded a favor that somehow got him switched from Cell Block D to C with them, to make it easier for him to slip food back after his supper shift. His new cellmate was a pissant little drug dealer, but the kid left Axel alone, and he spent enough years in to know that's sometimes the best result. The alliance cost him any standing at all with the other white men in the prison, but since the assholes never did a damn thing to help him before, he didn't figure he owed them much just because they shared a skin color.
"RVs are pretty solid for all their apologies about them. Probably more room than the apartments too, from what I've heard. Be good enough til we get the credit saved."
Oscar's extended family here makes his one of the more populous other than the Dixons themselves. When they stumbled onto that little farm Oscar remembered his brother wanting to save up for, they expected to be disappointed. Instead, they found Oscar's two teenage sons, his ex-wife, his niece, his brother and the man's girlfriend, plus the girlfriend's brother, sister-in-law, and nephew. Carol just shrugged at seeing the size of the new arrivals' group and had three more RVs moved down by theirs, giving them their own little village of sorts for now.
"Want to get it done before the spring though. Wouldn't want to be anywhere near this tin can in a bad thunderstorm, even with the tie downs we got out." Axel's seen full-size trailers tossed and rolled without even a full-on tornado, when the storm was big enough, and if a damned hurricane ever comes up the coast, that'll happen for sure. These RVs would be like that scene out of Twister - whoosh, gone. There's shelters on the property, but none of them are down here. Right now, they'd have to make a run for the Dixon basement.
"The big Marine offered me a time trade if I'll help on his place. He wants it done before Valentine's."
"Jamie? Huh. Guess he's gonna pop the question to that pretty little blonde from the building crew."
Oscar shrugs. "They're already living together, so I think it might be more than just getting married. You saw the baby boom they already got here."
"Means they think it's safe." Although Axel's pretty sure the nurse who did their bloodwork probably gave all of them the same drastic caution that they keep their pants zipped until all their lab work is clear, he also told them birth control is widely available to the women even as he tossed Axel a drawstring bag with vitamins and minor over-the-counter meds - and two boxes of condoms.
He wishes he had the man's optimism about his sex life, although a lot of the folks who aren't married seem to pair off loosely without any ties, as far as he can observe so far. Both of his very pretty female coworkers at the garage are taken, although he's not sure the ex-cop the Latina's hooking up with knows he's off the market yet. Denova's military and so's her boyfriend.
He's worked two kitchen shifts so far, one breakfast and one lunch. It didn't take long for the ladies there to catch him up on both Grady and Terminus, and he passed that information on to the other two men. No fucking wonder they put Andrew down so fast. He's just gonna stay politely in his own damned bed until someone needs an itch scratched and has pity on him for an invite.
In the meantime, it seems neither Oscar nor Tiny are roaming for female company either, so he's got buddies as good as family to pass the time with and a safe place to lay his head. It was all he needed before the dead walked. It's all he really needs now too.
~*~ HG ~*~
Hershel's glad he took Merle's advice when Lenore smiles as soon as she sees him at the door. She's got an early morning, he knows, because she and her dad will fire up the big barbeque grills as soon as daylight edges around. But she welcomes him in and goes to put the kettle on.
"Didn't think I would see you tonight, with the holiday and baby and all."
"Merle said your girls were down at Leo and Amalia's. Thought they'd be here."
Lenore shrugs. "Leo and Amalia and their kids have spent Christmas with us for so many years now, they're family. And it's Sebastian's first Christmas without his parents and brothers. So, all three of mine wanted to do a big slumber party, although I think Jenny's in the middle of it too. They offered me the pull-out couch down there, but I figured as early as my morning is starting, I want a good bed for the night. Dad and I will head down there for presents after the grills are going."
"Much the same on my end. Maggie's absorbed in the baby enough she probably doesn't remember my name tonight. And Beth's in the middle of that big party the younger Dixons seem to have spun up."
"That explains me seeing Gage wandering down that way about an hour ago."
The tea kettle whistles and she sets about making tea for them both with quiet efficiency. They've been having small moments like this since Halloween, although Merle's the first person to say anything about it. He suspects most people see his age and don't think it anything more than two farmers trading work tips. He's just glad he was more aware of where things were going with Lenore than he was with either wife before the woman kissed him senseless.
She hands him a mug and sits on the couch facing him, one leg tucked under her as she smiles at him. "We've still got that BBC series to finish, if you want. Get in a few episodes before you head back up."
"We could. But a friend advised me tonight that I should see where this is leading."
Lenore laughs and leans over to set her mug on the little kitchen table before kidnapping his. "Is that a conversation we can have better without those in the way?"
They've kissed before, starting just after Thanksgiving, a month into this little courtship of theirs. She hasn't pushed, respecting he's just not there yet. And he knows Annette would never begrudge him any happiness with her gone.
Those kisses were more 'I like you and want to show it' compared to this one, which is "I like you and I want you to stay the night." There's no space between them, and a tiny part of him is amused at making out on the couch like teenagers at his age. But she's young and vibrant, with what his mother would call a 'working woman's beauty'. She could have chosen another man, ones better matched to her in age, but she claims they're fickle.
She's smiling after and leans her forehead against his. "I'm not aiming for ever getting married again. I did that early on and I've had my kids. But I'm happy when I'm with you. We're probably too old for the boyfriend/girlfriend dynamic, but that's close enough to what I'm wanting. And should we ever get this place secure enough I can live in my own home again, I would very much enjoy it if you were willing to live there too. You willing to live in sin with a woman half your age?"
He threads his fingers into her red curls and mulls it over. He knows his life of the past two decades has been one that's led to him being seen as a counselor and guide, a man of religion here. And that religion is a big part of who he is now. It separates his good years from the ones he doesn't like to speak of. There are reasons he married so much later in life. No woman worth having would have stuck around in his twenties or most of his thirties.
He'd never return to the lifestyle his mama called his 'drinking and whoring' days, but living with Lenore, in this world? There's not much difference in signing their names in the leather-bound community record book that they're married and just being a couple and living their day to day together. If the label bothers her that much, of being a wife, he's fine with that.
"I think the idea of living in sin no longer applies in our world." He misses the quiet breathing of a woman next to him at night, evenings spent with a cup of tea and a good book or old TV show, and holding hands at breakfast as he plans his day. Sex is a bonus, as he's not so old yet not to miss it, but it's the daily life where he feels his widower status the most. She's not Annette, no more than Annette was Jo, but a new gift put into his path for continuing to do good in the world instead of ill. "I might find it interesting to be a boyfriend at my age."
He's the one to start the kiss this time, but she's the one who leads away from the couch and a night in her arms that promises he's no longer alone.
~*~ Al ~*~
From where he's tucked in his bunk, Al can see a good portion of the open area of the basement. Most of the kids here tonight are out there, eating snacks and watching a movie. A few are sitting on the unused bunks closest to the TV area, paired off to play games. It's quiet back here, most content to leave the quiet kid alone. He's got a book and his reading light and really doesn't have to have any company.
In some ways, it feels like other Christmas Eves spent in group homes. Big noisy crowds of kids are big noisy crowds of kids, after all. But at the same time, he knows there's not going to be another day of him putting all his things in a black garbage bag to move to a different group home or another foster placement that's going to return him just like all the others have since he entered the system when he was five and his mama overdosed on meth. He doesn't even remember what she looked like anymore, and the system didn't really give a shit about a foster kid keeping up with family keepsakes like photos.
Patricia's got a new baby, a boy from her dead husband. Any other place, he would know the writing's on the wall when they decide they don't need an angry kid with a learning disability around anymore. But she's different. Everyone else still calls them her fosterlings, but Patricia calls them her ducklings, and when Isabelle started calling her mom, she just hugged the girl so tight Al's not sure she could breathe.
He fiddles with the Polaroid tucked in the front of his book, taking it out to look at it. Patricia, looking more tired than he's ever seen her, but smiling happily with all of them surrounding her and the baby. Jimmy and Beth say she raised a lot of kids up as they aged out of the system. None of hers were ever left to fend for themselves just because they turned eighteen and the state didn't give a damn anymore. But that was when she was married and if anything happens to Patricia, who would take care of them? He's not stupid. Women die having babies, and they were lucky today.
"Hey." Patrick plops down at the foot of his bed and hands him a bottle of apple juice. "Not into the Lord of the Rings tonight? Thought you liked the fantasy stuff."
Considering the book he has is the entire Narnia series in one binding, he guesses that's true. "Just thinking."
"You still worrying about Patricia? She's okay now. Matthew too."
"Just wondered what would happen to us if she wasn't here," he admits. Maybe it's because he was moved once, on Christmas Eve, from one of the few placements he liked. The state wouldn't let foster kids stay with a woman having to start cancer treatments on a Stage IV diagnosis.
"I'm pretty sure we wouldn't go anywhere. You really think Carol wouldn't just step right in?" Patrick pushes his glasses back to sit better on his face. "If you really think about it, she's already in charge of us when Patricia's busy."
Al thinks about the times Carol's guided and fed and made sure they had even the fun things they were interested in, not just the necessities. He suspects Jazz tattles, if they don't ask for what they want in addition to what they need. He wonders if Patrick doesn't worry because he's technically old enough they would let him live on his own in the Village if he asked. Then again, Patrick's seventeenth birthday just after Thanksgiving was celebrated the same way every Dixon birthday has been.
"I mean, I think they'd let us choose, like those Terminus kids. And you and Carl go out with Daryl's team to hunt and stuff regularly. Bet you'd have a place there too, if you wanted." Patrick looks thoughtful. "Jimmy's in such a hurry to be an adult. Me? I'm just glad they don't have some limit that says I gotta move out to the Village."
"He says he's gonna ask, after his birthday." Al guesses it only matters to have fewer roommates and less oversight, since it's not like Jimmy will have to feed himself, although he'll roll to the adult work rosters at eighteen.
Patrick snorts. "He just wants to be able to have girls over. Doesn't see Ashley moving on as a fluke because she got bored."
"She got bored because he doesn't keep his mouth shut." The worry over Patricia soothed by the reminders that this isn't the old world, where he can be taken away from Patricia and sent somewhere new, he studies where Jimmy's trying - and failing - to flirt with Beth. It's a bit stupid, because everyone knows Beth's dating Gage, and it's even stupider that it still feels like middle school drama sometimes here. "You know Leeann likes you, right?"
Patrick's as clueless about girls liking him as Jazz is, although over time, Al's begun to suspect that Jazz is actually aware of the crushes and just ignores them. Leeann's pretty, he supposes, but after Grady, Al still finds the concept of touching others - especially like that - upsetting. It took him a while to be comfortable with the gentle hugs he gets from Patricia and Carol and Beth. The high energy of Sophia still startles the hell out of him, but luckily, she's nice enough she only hugged him the once.
He still gets sick to his stomach remembering Melina reminding the worst of the bad cops that she was a teenager to divert attention off one of the younger teenage girls. She looked after him in Grady, barely an adult herself, an aged out foster kid herself who waited tables to get by with no college in her future. Voluntarily screwing the cops kept them safe and fed, but Melina cried herself to sleep most nights and didn't want to be touched. She's getting better the longer they're at Homestead. Al checks in with her each Sunday, when he works the supper shift with her.
The older boy sighs. "She's pretty and nice, but..."
But Patrick's like him, except the men who caught his group liked boys too. Al doesn't know how Patrick doesn't have more nightmares than he does. Maybe because he got to see the men die like Al did. Patrick's better about being touched. He likes hugs - from the women at least - and he spends a lot of time with Merle learning things, the same way Al likes to go with the hunters when he's allowed.
The older boy looks his way and sees his expression. "It's not really the Claimers, Al. I didn't like girls way before that."
He looks wary, like he expects Al to be upset. But Al really doesn't care. He supposes it would complicate things a lot for Patrick, all things considered.
"Maybe I'll tell her that for you, so she won't embarrass you," he offers. "If you don't mind her knowing."
"Thanks." Patrick smiles and fiddles with his glasses again. "I like having a brother," he says softly, and Al knows that's talking about him, not the goofy blond they share Patricia with.
So, he smiles back and nudges the other boy with a socked foot. "Me too."
This Christmas Eve is a good one.
~*~ SW ~*~
Shane finishes brushing his teeth and goes looking for Scout when she's not in their bedroom. The newly expanded cabin takes a little getting used to, but he's slowly coming to like it as much as their tiny space before. Cooking again is nice, although he's being careful with the Dixon family warning that Scout can burn water. She's a good prep cook, so they can still do meals together if all she's allowed is a knife.
He finds her sitting in the second bedroom, cross-legged on the neatly made bottom bunk of the built-in beds. There's still room in here for a crib, if they opted for one, but he figures by the time the baby needs independent space, they'll just have one of those side rails anyway. He remembers a lot of tales of his escapes from confinement as a child. He ended up in a toddler bed by ten months because his mother thought he might crack his head open by climbing the crib sides and bailing over. Maybe their daughter will be a more sedate child, like Lori was.
They're a year ahead really, in preparing for the baby, and he knows what's eating at her tonight.
"Tyreese and Karen took the boys home with them tonight, didn't they?" he asks, going to perch next to her.
She nods. "All the girls wanted to spend Christmas together. They know they're going to be split up."
Shane thinks that Jacqui would manage the three, if she had to. But it's a lot to put on Jim, who's healing from the loss of his first family. Brandy and Jocelyn are newly orphaned and sisters, both fairly docile kids even before losing their parents in the Terminus attack. They've taken to Jim well. But he's not ready to handle a child as pissed off at the world as Anaya is.
He's still not certain he and Scout should be considered for the girl's parents. All the other couples who visited with the kids to get to know them, to see what the kids themselves preferred, each have one half who doesn't have a job regularly off property. Leo's family is on offer, and she'd have siblings and two parents who rarely leave Homestead, and who also know how to deal with a traumatized orphan after Leo's nephew. Caleb, the young doctor, and his girlfriend, Chloe, they've offered as well. He's pretty sure Carol and Merle are considering it too.
She's a foundling, to use the world Terminus did. Living on her own for they're not sure how long before she braved talking to a Terminus supply team. It could have been hours, or days, or weeks, although how a child would survive on her own, he doesn't want to think about, not after Christopher's niece and those weeks spent hiding in an attic from her own dead family. He doesn't think there's a kid on the property without PTSD in some form or another, but no one even knows just how deep Anaya's runs. Even her age is only on her own word.
But she's nine years old and he knows who Scout sees when she looks at the girl.
He reaches out to take her hands in his. "Carol asked us for a reason," he says. "Do you want to ask Anaya to live with us?"
"Yes, but..."
He interrupts her with a kiss.
"If your but is logistics, those we can figure out. You know Lori and Carol and half the damn women on this place will look after her for us when she's not in school. Imagine Glynnis with another girl to spoil."
"Or Daddy."
"Or your sisters and Jazz and Jamie and Glenn and Rick and Daryl and you see where I'm going with this?"
"We've got a really damn big support system."
"Yeah, we do. It scares me, that we're both at risk and she might trust us and lose one or both of us. And while I hope like hell that never happens, I spent too many years with the reality of being a cop to brush off what we do now as any less dangerous. You got shot at Terminus." He can say that without being terrified, finally. "But at least here, there's no way she'll ever be alone."
"And the baby?"
"For everything Anaya is angry about in her world, did you see her with Andre?" Prone to bouts of angry profanity at times among older children or adults, the girl acts like the much smaller kids are made of spun glass. He watched her spend a good fifteen minutes teaching Andre to play that cherry counting game. He suspects she lost a younger sibling.
"She's good with him."
"And I think she'll be good with the baby too."
She studies him for a moment, before looking around the cozy little room. Built-in bunks on one side, built-in shelves and drawers on the other. Everything painted in shades of blue because it's both their favorite colors. A window with half the panes colorful glass after Scout used a stained glass kit on them.
"She told me we make her feel safe," Scout says softly.
"That's our answer then." He pulls her into his arms, curling into the space in the bunk and holding her close. He kisses her on the temple. "At least she's potty-trained, right?" he teases.
Scout just laughs and tucks herself close to him.
He thought they had a while longer before they were parents, but it's come early for a reason.
They make that little girl feel safe.
