May 13, 2011

~*~ DD ~*~

"Hey, Daryl. You hear that?"

Brady's voice is not nearly alarmed enough for what they're hearing, but that's the apocalypse for you. Some things get a little too commonplace.

"Yeah. Sounds like a good sized group of walkers."

He nods to his team, and Ryan's team falls in behind them as they advance on foot. They've been sweeping north and east from where Daryl's office was in Thomson, being more careful to look for survivors and not just supplies and critters. It's been a fruitful trip, and they're checking this one last neighborhood while waiting on a team to arrive with the livestock trailers for their latest find.

They pick up the pace when they hear a clear yell for help.

About two hundred yards beyond the last of the remote little neighborhood, they see a man dressed in black stranded on a rock. He's barely out of reach of the grasping walkers.

It takes very little time for the team of eight to put down the nine walkers surrounding the man, all silently. No one goes on Daryl's teams without being able to utilize either a bow or crossbow.

As the others go to retrieve arrows and bolts, he steps up to study the man panting on top of the rock. "You okay?" Spotting the clerical collar, he adds a belated, "Father."

"I am now." He slides to the ground, looks around at the carnage that taking down the walkers caused, and promptly vomits at the base of the rock.

Daryl shares a look with Ryan and the other team leader just shrugs. How anyone with a stomach that weak survived this long is beyond them.

After Rick needed proof of his former occupation to convince the state park group to come in to safety, all the former law enforcement and military who have their identification keep them handy. Daryl pulls his from the pocket inside his vest that Lori sewed especially to keep it secure and flips it open.

"You telling me there's some semblance of government left?" the cleric asks as he eyes the badge.

"Not really. But some survivors feel better knowing that some of the law enforcement survived." He tucks his badge and I.D. away and offers a hand. "Daryl Dixon."

The stranger takes his hand, but his grip is shaky in the brief contact. "Father Gabriel Stokes."

"You got a church near here?" The man's too clean and too well-groomed to have been on the move long.

"St. Sarah's Episcopalian Church outside town." That seems to remind him that Daryl provided I.D. because he pulls out a wallet and passes it to Daryl to inspect. The name and town match, and he's not surprised to see a fairly elegant business card with the church information before he hands it back.

"Do you need help getting back?" This is far enough north of Daryl's old work territory that he doesn't know of the church.

"I'm afraid there's not much left for me there. I ventured out in search of supplies."

"You don't have a group?" The idea of anyone alone in this, for however long, is baffling.

"I'm afraid not. I've been alone in my church since the end." Something about that statement and his body language tells Daryl that isn't the entire truth.

"You came out here without any weapons?" He hopes the man dropped something in the scramble to safety.

"The Lord provides all the protection I need."

Daryl refrains from voicing the blasphemy he's thinking, but it's a close call. A smothered sound behind him says he's not the only one.

"I suppose us showing up could be a sign of that," he manages at last. "Can't offer you a church, but it's safe enough where we are."

Gabriel nods hesitantly. "That would be greatly appreciated. I do not have the skills to be finding food in this world."

Daryl unfastens the pouch holding his meal bars and gives the man a protein bar and a ration bar. "Better food back in the vehicles. Getcha something to drink there too. Our water is all in the vests in a hydration pouch."

He guessed correctly about the priest's hunger, because Gabriel's hands shake as he tries to open the protein bar. "Thank you."

"Alright. Let's get back to the vehicles. We'll just wait on the others there and keep an eye on the livestock."

He motions for Gabriel to walk beside him, with Brady taking position to cover the man's other side. Ryan's team spread out around them for the mile trek back, with Antonio and Candace taking point.

Since today was a search and identify resources day, they've only brought two of the work trucks and their trailers. Sunday's run will be the bigger one to fetch the larger caches.

Daryl opens the rear passenger door on his Dodge and snags a bottle of Gatorade out of the cooler and hands it to the priest. "Have a seat if you like, Father."

Gabriel complies, drinking the blue liquid with careful sips. "You all behave like military."

"That's how we've been trained. Some remnants of military with us, a good chunk of law enforcement. Walkers aren't the worst thing out in the world."

"Considering the state of mankind before the dead rose, I can't imagine that they are."

Daryl radios in that they've found a survivor and gets the report that the other teams are within ten minutes of arrival. Gabriel must be recovering from his scare, because he's staring curiously.

"Like I said, walkers ain't the scariest thing out there. We don't broadcast where we are if we don't have to."

"What are you waiting on?"

"Found some loose cattle and herded them up into a backyard here. Someone's bringing a livestock trailer."

"You have farmland? Safe farmland?"

"As safe as we can make it."

When the man begins to weep silently, Daryl moves away to give him some privacy. He's not the first to be overwhelmed by the idea of finally finding safety.

~*~ Jesus ~*~

It's been a long day, and Jesus is just ready to shower. With the expanded fields needing everyone's attention, even he's been conscripted into Tammy's army of workers. But in the five days since the Homesteaders returned to Georgia, they've gotten all her designated areas ready for planting and started the planting today.

He now knows far more about agriculture than he ever intended to know, thanks to a few cantankerous council meetings. Gregory isn't as obnoxious as he used to be when he was the sole leader in charge, but Olivia snarks privately that he just has to piss in everyone's Cheerios at least once a meeting for old time's sake.

In the end, barring natural disaster in the way of weather or pests, they'll have plenty of fresh food in a few months and ongoing deals for trade with the other allied communities.

He opens the door to the trailer and gives Enid a questioning look to see her curled up on his couch with a textbook. "Everything okay?"

She was in the fields today too, but from the look of her, she managed to get a shower already. Probably his shower, if she's hiding out here. The ongoing battle between a few of the adults who think she should be treated as a child and Olivia's insistence on letting Enid set her own path hasn't tapered off.

"Yeah. Just nowhere quiet to study in the main house." She hefts the textbook to show him it's one of the nursing manuals Carol rounded up for the girl at Homestead.

"Harlan agreed to oversee your studies then?"

"Yes. He says he's going to make it official in the next council meeting, so that I'll be on the same training level as the boy his brother is training in Alexandria."

"Good. You'll let me know if you need anything? I'll probably go out on a run by Wednesday." That's Tammy's estimate of when it'll no longer be all hands on deck.

"I've got some anatomy stuff that I could use a laptop for." She indicates the backpack beside her. "Carol says the interactive programs are sometimes better for memorization than the textbook because they're in 3D."

"Alright. I'll let Olivia know to get a supply run to one of the electronics depots." It's something they should go ahead and get done, because there were probably a dozen ideas of ways to share training and knowledge that functioning computers in each community would help.

No one wants to get dependent on the electronics, in case reproducing them becomes difficult, but he has to agree with the idea that they should use all the resources they can while they have them. Plus, Eugene was extremely optimistic on improving communications when he left, so much so that Ezekiel actually requested Ella to temporarily relocate to Homestead to assist with the radio-email project.

"Gonna shower. You going to the group supper or eating here?" Since Enid's avoidance of the larger groupings of people in Hilltop has only increased since the Georgia visit, he's tried to at least help Olivia keep an eye out for her. He remembers all too well what it felt like to be that age, old enough but not at the same time.

"I can fix something here. What do you want?"

He shrugs. "Whatever seems appealing to you. Haven't picked up my allotment yet this week, so it might be slim pickings."

Hilltop isn't as reliant on group meals as he's seen at Homestead or the Kingdom, but they aren't fully independent for meals like Alexandria. He might mention to Olivia to let Enid have her own allotment. Give her more independence, and he doesn't mind her stashing things here.

By the time he's showered and dressed again, she's come up with some sort of pasta dish. The smell is familiar and he feels a tinge of homesickness for people instead of a place.

Something in his expression must give that way, because Enid's smile fades. "There's a book here?"

She pushes a composition book toward him on the tiny counter. He reaches out to take it, remembering the gift Honey left him before, but this isn't her handwriting. It's not Carol's either, because he's seen her elegant script several times.

"It's recipes," Enid says softly. "Simple ones, mostly, that don't take a ton of ingredients. You haven't looked in your food cabinet this week, have you?"

He shakes his head as he continues to page through the notebook. She's right. He's eaten at the group meal for meals this week.

"Well, you're not exactly running low on food."

He opens the cabinet that he stashes food in. Instead of random canned goods and the jars he stored rice and pasta in, the cabinet is filled with neatly labeled containers. These do bear Carol's handwriting and there's one with a bright orange sticky note asking him to please take better care of himself.

He sits down with a little bit of a thump, looking back and forth between the cabinet and notebook, feeling a little overwhelmed.

"She planned that before we left Homestead," he mutters.

"Probably. I helped on a kitchen shift when we were down there, and their pantry is full of freeze-dried ingredients like those." She reaches out to open the lower cabinet. "Bins of pouches for you to take on your runs."

She nudges a bowl toward him. "I followed the first recipe."

He pushes down the almost overwhelming sense of being cared for and tries a bite of what appears to be an alfredo pasta with broccoli, mushrooms, and tomatoes. "It's excellent. Everything's from the cabinet?"

"Except the pasta. That's from the jar you already had. Even the sauce is a powder. You just add hot water to it and put in the veggies to rehydrate."

He eats one-handed as he flips through the notebook. There's a folded letter after the last recipe, with his actual name on it.

"I didn't read the letter," Enid says, sounding a little sad. "That's Jazz's writing."

"Enid."

She interrupts whatever he was going to manage with a shake of her head. "I kind of already knew because Sophia told me the night before they left that he liked someone, and you're the only one he's spent any time with when he's not working."

"I'm sorry." For what, he's not entirely certain. That she's disappointed in a world that's loaded grief on her already. That he didn't say something to her when he first knew about her crush. Either of those works, or both.

"It's okay." Her smile is wobbly, but it's there. "Better you than someone else."

"Why's that?" Her reaction isn't quite what he expects from his limited knowledge of teenage females.

"You deserve someone nice like that." She looks down at her empty bowl for a moment before going to wash it at the sink. He thinks she's going to just go back to her studies, but she pauses behind his chair to hug him, resting one cheek on his shoulder.

He reaches up to brush his fingers across her hair. She keeps up the hug for a little longer, but then she pulls away. This time she does return to her textbook.

Jesus studies her as he finishes the food she made, turning the letter absently in his free hand.

"Hey, Enid."

"Yeah?" She looks up and the air of sadness is gone. He's glad to see her usual smile for him return.

"You should make sure Miguel settles in here now that his friends are gone."

She looks thoughtful, but nods and returns to her book.

That's about as far as his own matchmaking skills go, but even if she doesn't like the blacksmith apprentice like she did Jazz, at least she'll have a new friend.

He washes his bowl and puts the recipe notebook back in the cabinet. The letter he'll save for later, so instead he plunks down on the couch and nudges Enid's book.

"Give it here and I'll quiz you."

Her bright grin tells him it's exactly the right thing to set their friendship back on an even keel.

~*~ CP ~*~

Carol feels the surge of sympathy she always feels in bringing a new survivor into Homestead. Gabriel looks caught between childlike wonder and mourning as he looks around the community streaming to supper from his new second story porch.

She settled him into a little apartment on arrival, to give him time to shower and change. He keeps touching his neck, and she figures being without the clerical collar must be bothering him. His loaner clothes are civilian.

"It feels like a dream," he says, barely audible. "There are even infants and pregnant women."

Her own pregnancy isn't blatantly obvious yet, but Michonne is talking to Lori near the community center. The swordswoman's belly is unmistakable at twenty-two weeks. Judith's in a carrier on Lori's back, content to people watch.

"We have around forty children under thirteen here. It's why we built the school house."

"I know I stated to my rescuers that the Lord sent me aid, but this is far beyond anything I deserve."

"And God is able to make all grace abound toward you; that ye, always having all sufficiency in all things, may abound to every good work."

"Second Corinthians. You retain your faith, even in this world?"

Carol smiles at him. "The world before was the one that tested my faith, Father Gabriel. This one, despite its horrors, is one where his mercy shows far more in my life."

"I am afraid it has shown me sides of myself that are not suitable for a man of God."

"Many people here have stumbled. We do have a lay preacher here, and most need no more than Hershel offers. But our elderly could use a minister who isn't also our veterinarian.'

He doesn't respond immediately, and she watches carefully. She trusts Daryl's instincts toward the man, and Daryl thinks there's something dark in why the man ended up alone.

"I failed my congregation and abandoned my duty." The man looks haggard and lost. "When the dead came, I was a coward who hid while they died."

She feels her stomach lurch a little at the thought, but if cowardice, temporary or otherwise, was unforgivable, many of their people wouldn't be here.

She reaches out and grips his forearm lightly. "Then perhaps you are led here to make amends by helping care for the weakest among us."

He covers her hand with his. "I do not deserve your kindness."

"I suppose as a man of God, you'll just have to accept that my kindness is mine to give."

Gabriel covers her hand with his for a brief moment, and she moves away when he shifts and pushes his hands into his pockets. "You have elderly here?"

"We rescued an entire nursing home abandoned in Atlanta. Twenty-one elders, most in need of medical oversight."

"That's even more impressive than the children."

"Let's go meet a few of them at supper."

He nods, looking a fraction less lost, and follows her down the stairs. Whatever ghosts linger for him, perhaps good deeds will help exorcise them.

~*~ SW ~*~

"Someone's grumpy tonight," Shane tells Judith.

She grimaces at him and tries to cram her entire fist in her mouth, gumming it. He tugs it gently away and lets her gnaw on his thumb instead.

He wants to swear she's too young for teething, because it means his baby girl is almost four months old. But he remembers this stage with Carl, and although the drool and discomfort started at four months, the teeth didn't appear unril two months later.

"Here, save your poor thumb from the little T-Rex." Scout smiles as Judith cranes her head to try to see her as she comes into the bedroom.

He takes the half-frozen washcloth and gives it to the baby. She makes a noise somewhere between a growl and a purr as she gets relief from the cool, textured cloth.

"Lori says she doesn't throw the washcloth as much as the teether toy."

"Probably easier to clean too." With Judith seeming happier, he tickles her tiny bare feet where she's sitting on his stomach and using his knees as a prop. She kicks and gurgles.

Scout lays down beside them, curling to where she can watch them interact.

"She didn't sleep well Monday night," she says. "Or most of this week. Growth spurt, probably."

"I'm curious as to what her check-up will show next week. I know it's my imagination, but it feels like she weighs five extra pounds compared to last weekend.

"She's due shots at this one."

Shane makes a face. "Don't remind me.". As grateful as he is that Homestead salvaged a decent amount of vaccines when electricity was still erratically available, it still was unpleasant to watch the baby jabbed with a needle.

Judith babbles and throws the damp and drooly washcloth to splat on his chest. He figures it's a good thing he doesn't have a shirt to need changing. It's apparently freeing her hands to make a dive for Scout.

He passes the baby to his wife, watching as she blows a raspberry on Judith's belly. The baby laughs, the sound much more distinct than her initial gaspy laugh.

Leaving them to their play, he goes to leave the washcloth to dry in the bathroom and fetches the bottle from where it's sitting in the pan of warm water.

When he gets back to the bedroom, they're laying nose to nose in the bed, just staring at each other.

"Not sure a staring contest with a baby is a challenge," he teases.

Judith cackles and accidentally smacks Scout in the face while squirming to find him. He grins at Scout and waggles the bottle in Judith's line of sight.

Scout snags it out of his hand and tucks the baby against her shoulder so she can take the bottle. Watching them together makes him eternally grateful that Judith takes to a bottle so easily for her bedtime feeding.

The casual observer would never know they aren't biologically related, he thinks. Judith's initially wavy head of black hair has thickened into outright curls, and her skin tone has darkened closer to his than Lori's alabaster complexion. She's still paler than Scout, but not as much as he honestly expected.

It doesn't take long to finish the bottle, amd they switch off. He takes the drowsy, content baby and pops her to his shoulder to burp her. Scout disappears to clean the bottle, returning as he's easing Judith into the bedside sleeper on his side of the bed.

"The girls still asleep?" He knows she'll have checked on them out of habit.

"Yeah. Abby was snoring, so I got her to roll over, and Anaya's blanket was on the floor, as usual."

"Between the snoring and the ear infections, I wonder if someone could still manage to take out tonsils now. Carl needed that done about her age."

"Makes everyone too nervous to practice on a kid, I guess."

He grins. "We could volunteer an adult as a guinea pig."

"You volunteering?"

"Can't. Had my tonsils and adenoids taken out when I was seven. All I remember about it was getting to stay with Grandma Jean and eating a lot of ice cream and pudding."

"Don't look at me. Mine are gone too."

He settles on the bed, beckoning her to cuddle up to him. He doesn't think having her lay her head on his chest, over his heart, will ever get old.

"You tired yet?" he asks softly. Neither of them sleep well when they're separated. Part of him wanted to attribute it to being still newly married, but an offhand comment in front of Hershel and Arthur revealed both men experienced the same decades into marriage.

"Not really. Movie or book?"

It's an easy choice, because he knows how much she loves it when he reads aloud. He reaches for the book on his nightstand and props it against his stomach to get the page settled.

He wouldn't trade a second of moments like this for any part of his old life.