Dampish Thank you, bubba xx

You made your bed, now just sleep in it
And dreams will cut the words out

I grind my teeth, grind my teeth to chalk
Finding words to say to you

Any fool, fool can carry on
With grand delusions

Any dog, dog like me could find
The best way through the fence
You just don't think about the time
You just don't focus on the time…

Oliver and the Charleston Mission still aren't back when Aaron, Gabriel, and I return from our scouting mission. What's worse is that even with our stash at Mays' warehouse, we still have less food than we need to keep Alexandria going for very long. It looked like a lot of food down in Mays' bunker to me, but in reality, it's only going to spread across the fifty or sixty mouths we have to feed here for just a few weeks. Not to mention those who still need food at Oceanside.

While we were gone, everyone's begun rationing to three meals a week, except the children, elderly, injured, or sick, of course. In just the two days I've been back, I've learned that it's a popular topic of discussion to go over which days we each find the most suitable not to eat on. It's different for everyone. For me, I've decided I won't eat on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and alternating Saturdays and Sundays. It helps me keep track of my days, if nothing else.

Today, I've been busy all morning cleaning the dead fish out of the fishery. Aaron, working with me, has been complaining about nightmares. He asks me if I've been feeling okay, after the warehouse. It's difficult to look into his scared, inky blue eyes and explain that I'm completely fine about what I saw and what I did to Mays and the women down in the bunker, so I don't. It would only scare him more. So instead I tell him I'm keeping busy, which seems to make sense to him.

"I'm around," he tells me softly, "if you ever need to talk."

"Thanks," I say, "you too," even though I believe that talking about it at all would only be useless. We can't change what happened. We can only be ready for it if something like it or worse ever happens again.

Maggie and Hershel pass by the fishery. Aaron asks them if they want to help us, but Maggie takes one uncomfortable look at Negan, working behind the fishery on the east wall repair, and shakes her head. Her eyes catch mine, but she quickly looks away.

"We're headed to the gardens," she tells Aaron.

"Oh, no problem. See you."

She doesn't look at me again as she leaves. Hershel gives me a little smile. I force a smile back, my chest stinging. I glance over to Negan on the wall. He catches my eyes. I look away.

On my way back to the clinic —where I've been staying along with a few other Hilltoppers in need of somewhere to sleep— I spot Carol returning to Alexandria with Dog; she and Daryl were out laying down salt, herbs, and grain around our hunting grounds to attract back some wildlife. We have too much salt anyway, considering we have so little food; same with the herbs, and almost all our grain got contaminated by rats, so it was all just going to go to waste anyway. We got the idea from Georgie's guide book. The smell of the grain and minerals and herbs should attract prey for miles.

As Carol heads for the Brownstone apartments, I wave to her — my hands smell putrid. She smiles and waves back, then picks up a neglected, old rag off the ground and takes it with her as she goes.

Still no nightmares that night, even after what Aaron spoke to me about.

In the morning, Mary asks me to take care of Adam for her, complaining that although her stomach is healing well, she's not feeling very strong today. I'd typically hand him off to Rosita, or Siddiq, or Gabriel, or Nabila, or Barbara, and find something to busy myself with instead, but I know they're all busy already with either their own children or community needs, so today, Adam stays with me.

At some point, I bring Adam with me to Daryl's place at the pantry, looking for Lydia. Nobody answers the door when I knock but I can hear sounds coming from inside, so I head in. I find Lydia upstairs in her room. She's sitting on her bed with Dog, reading an ancient and tattered comic book that used to be mine. The room used to be mine, too, back in the days when I used to live here with Olivia and Nell. Lydia hasn't decorated it at all since I moved out. Some of my old posters are still tacked up, hanging loose at a few corners. Even my old clothes are still hung up on the wardrobe rail, moth bitten and sun bleached.

"You didn't come to get your rations today," I remind her, scratching between Dog's ears as he greets me and Adam. It makes me miss Bean sorely. Adam babbles curiously. "Ms. Maitlin sent me to get you."

"I don't need it," Lydia says to her comic book, and suddenly this whole situation is like looking at a mirror that can rewind time. I have to stop myself from stiffening my shoulders. "I shouldn't be eating every day like the kids," Lydia adds. "I should be eating three meals a week, like you grown-ups."

"The fact that you call us grown-ups means that you are still a kid," I tell her playfully, adjusting Adam on my hip.

Lydia doesn't find me funny. She just jolts as Dog jumps up to lie beside her on the bed again. I join them, sitting at the end of the bed with Adam on my knee.

"Fine," I say. "If you really want, I'll talk to Ms. Maitlin about lowering your rations a little closer to us 'grown-ups'. What do you think of five meals a week?"

"Three is fine, thanks."

I tut and narrow my eyes at her.

Lydia sighs. "I'm serious. I've been hungry before. You all don't need to protect me from it."

"I know," I admit. "I'll let Ms. Maitlin know. But… please… compromise with us, okay? Four meals a week. You're not a kid, I get that. But you're not totally grown, either. Deal?"

Lydia watches me, until finally, she nods. "Deal."

"Thank you," I say, and stand, hoisting Adam onto my hip again.

"Wait..." Lydia says as I'm leaving. I glance back. "How's Mary?" she asks.

I give an uncomfortable nod. "She's okay. Better. You been to see her?"

"Yeah. A few weeks ago. Not recently, though. It's kinda..." She trails. I guess sharing a history surrounding Alpha must be difficult to explain out loud.

"Yeah," I say.

A loud bang downstairs makes me jump.

"The hell was that?" I ask.

"Don't worry," Lydia says. "It's just Carol. She's been banging around in the pantry since yesterday. She kept me and Dog up all night. Figured it was best to leave her to it."

I head downstairs with Adam, past the living room —which used to be Alexandria's armoury but now just has a couch, a coffee table, and Daryl's smell in it— and find Carol down the hall in the pantry. She's sweeping the floor. The wall on the right side of the room is completely hollowed out. She throws a piece of dry-wall into a pile, swearing at herself.

"What happened?!" I cry.

"Oh..." Carol turns to me, startled, and knocks over a sledgehammer. She picks it up. "I was just making some soup."

"There's a hole in the wall..."

"There's a rat."

"A rat bashed in the wall?"

"No." Carol goes red. "Look, okay, it's not as bad as it looks, and I'm fixing it… Dog knocked over my soup, so I had to build a rat trap, and then I had to go out and find more ingredients, and then I caught the rat, but it got out, and —by the way, Dog could definitely have helped me catch it but I think he only chose not to because I, well… I may have yelled at him, so I think he and the rat are conspiring against me— so, anyway, the power went out and my hot-pot won't work and the rat is still in here and I can only try to fix so many things at once!"

I gawp at her, lost. "Okay. I think you should just... calm down... and put down the sledgehammer."

Carol tuts, but does as I ask.

"Can I help?" I ask her.

"No. You're busy with him." She glances at Aaron. "I'm fine."

"You… don't need to fix all this alone, you know."

Carol doesn't seem to agree with me because she continues to sweep.

"You didn't come home with Daryl yesterday," I say, gently. "And I know you're probably even more worried about Oliver than I am, but isn't it better to worry about all of that with someone, rather than by yourself?"

I see her eyes well up. She turns away from me to sweep.

I sigh. "I'll go and see what I can do about the solar panels."

She doesn't look at me, but still says, "Thank you," as I go.

Adam is exceptionally low maintenance for a baby. It must be from the first several months of his life living with the Whisperers. He's happy to lie quietly on a soft blanket on the lawn a few feet away from me for a few hours while I figure out what's wrong with the solar panels. I can see where Carol fixed it yesterday but at some point in the night a stray wire had come loose, one of the tiny ones that are hard to reach.

As I carefully work to re-fit it, lying flat under the panel with a screwdriver in my mouth, Adam crawls over and drools on my hair. I tolerate this. Finally, I hear the gentle hum from the panel activating.

"There," I say.

Adam blubbers at me, not only drooling on my hair now but chewing it. Carefully picking my hair free of him, I sit up and pick lift him onto my hip, shuffling out from under the panel and pushing the wet parts of my fringe out of my face.

I squint at him.

He smiles gummily.

"Let's go," I tell him, standing. I carry him and my tools back to the pantry. The power is back. Carol already has the hot-pot bubbling away. Jerry is here chatting to her at the open garage door. They hug. I give Jerry a 'she's had a bad day' look, and he gives me a 'we got her' look back.

They jump apart when a rat scurries between their boots and disappears out of the garage.

Jerry looks up from it to Carol. "Is that…?"

"Yeah..." She sniffs and wipes her eyes. "Come on in. Soup's almost ready."

Of all the things you planned and never did
Of all the things you asked of me

While you worried 'bout the time
You just worried 'bout the time

This neighbourhood, this hood's a border town
Plagued by numbers

This fallen tree, tree turned into boards
Boarding-up the doors to you

Of all the things you planned and never did
Of all the things you asked of me
All the things you said, and never did
Oh, all the things you promised me

All the things you ask
All the things you ask…

Notes

Song was 'No Worries' Amateur Blonde. It was the song from Diverged, the same episode this chapter is based on.

I enjoyed Enid the reluctant babysitter lol

End of season 10. Yay!

As always,
Happy reading.