One thing Shane's learned about Jimmy since he took custody of the teenager is that when they're alone, the kid is inevitably quiet, still on his best behavior like Shane might change his mind if he gets annoyed. He knows from his own experience with foster kids that it's normal behavior this early on, so the fact that Jimmy isn't lying quietly on his cot and willing himself to sleep is unusual. He waits for the next time the boy shifts before he speaks.
"What's worrying you, kiddo?"
"Nothing."
Sighing, Shane reaches out to flick the camp lantern on, preparing himself for the ache sitting up will cause. The camp cots Maggie brought are high-end enough that he can keep the head inclined, but it's still a tender process. He levers up with a pained grunt, not surprised to see Jimmy's looking at him like a startled rabbit.
"You don't have to get up…"
Waving off whatever apology was coming, Shane smiles reassuringly. "Something's bugging you, Jimmy, and it might help if you share it."
Jimmy finally sits up himself. "You were with the Greenes a lot today, especially after the scientist tested people. It means something important, doesn't it?"
Although they'd agreed not to spread the word until morning beyond the core group, Shane nods. There's no need to make Jimmy worry all night, and it's not like the kid is going to run out and wake the camp to announce whatever Shane tells him.
"Yeah. Eugene will need to do some more testing in the morning, after Maggie and Hershel are satisfied with his scientific process, but we think he's found what he's looking for. We'll have to figure out where he can find a lab to work in, so we'll be back on the road. It just won't be toward Benning like I told you we planned."
"Is it you?" Jimmy is so quiet Shane can barely hear him. "Will you have to be…"
Shane understands the nervousness now. "The lab rat?" he volunteers and Jimmy nods. "No, it's not me, and they won't be turning anyone into a lab rat, I promise."
The relief on Jimmy's face makes Shane remind himself he's got to keep Jimmy as much a priority as everything else going on. He doesn't deserve to be an afterthought once Shane's more mobile than he is now.
"Everything's good, right? With my people and you?"
"Yeah." Jimmy smiles brightly. "Everyone's been really nice. Dale let me sit watch while you were inside with Hershel after you were tested."
"It's not as exciting as it seems at first, is it?"
"I guess not, but it was nice that he trusted me. He offered to show me some mechanical work on the RV if it's okay with you."
Shane reminds himself to thank Dale. He'd been right that the older man would be outraged by the lack of care taken with Jimmy's safety, but he hadn't expected him to tuck the kid under his wing like he had Glenn.
"Learn all he'll teach you. Even if you never work on anything like that again, mechanical knowledge is always useful. Honestly, before we get on the road, all the vehicles could use a good checkover, and I've only got one good arm. Maybe I should recruit a few helpers."
Fuel for the vehicles won't last forever unless they do find some sort of government, but just like the ancient RV, changing the oil in the vehicles and making sure everything is in working order will be useful skills for Jimmy and the other kids. They're doing well with the exercises he's set them to, surprisingly determined to pay attention even with 'coach' sidelined by his broken collarbone.
"We'll help. Yeah." Jimmy eyes his shoulder curiously. "How long will it take for that to heal?"
"Old world estimates were usually four to six weeks on a collarbone."
"And the rest of it? I mean, you aren't even wearing bandages anymore and the stitches are gone, right?"
One of the many reasons Shane hates the brace is that it shouldn't be worn against bare skin. He's honestly not sure what makes sleeping harder, staying mostly dressed or the pillow jammed under his elbow. Both make the heat worse. Changing his shirt is an endeavor, so he's not surprised Jimmy noticed something different this morning.
"Hershel took all the stitches out yesterday. If you leave them in too long, they don't come out easily. I'll actually start some exercises with the arm tomorrow." Normally, he'd have a good amount of physical therapy, so without those services, he's glad to have his athletics background to fall back on. The separated shoulder his junior year is coming in handy now.
"And everything else is good?"
"The lung and liver will heal over time, too, according to Hershel. Probably about like the shoulder." Part of his treks to the farmhouse are for the breathing exercises he does four times a day with the spirometer. It's easier to keep it in the house where it can be sanitized than to carry it around with him.
Looking reassured, Jimmy eyes his book next to his cot. "Would it bug you if I read? Beth gave me a book light."
"Can't sleep?" Shane's restless himself, but it's hard to shake the habit of putting himself to bed just after dark with the extra sleep his body requires. Maybe he's healing enough not to need it so much.
"Mind won't shut off yet."
"Grab that little tray table and my deck of cards. I'll teach you how to play Beggar My Neighbor as long as you can do the shuffling and dealing."
The random length of the game soothes them both finally, and when Jimmy nearly falls off his perch on the end of his cot while yawning two hours later, Shane laughs and sends him to lay down. He settles himself back in place and flicks the camp lantern back off. Just as he's about to doze off, Jimmy pipes up quietly.
"That was nice… like you see families do on TV."
"Guess we'll have to make a habit of a game night when we can," Shane replies. "We'll find somewhere safe, with walls all around, and you and me? We can just make it our routine. Get some sleep, kiddo. You got a mile to run come sunrise. Sophia's aiming to beat your time."
The laugh is so sleepy Shane isn't surprised to hear a soft snore in the dark tent. Lori's emphasis on family activities always drove him and Rick a little crazy in the old days, but now that they don't have the luxury of easy evenings in a nice living room, Shane misses it. Hopefully the search for a lab will lead him to a place where all the kids can have that sort of oasis to thrive in again.
There's a knock on the open door of the mobile lab that startles Eugene out of reviewing the data he's carrying with him for the fifth time this evening. His eyelids feel like they're made out of sandpaper, but he knows he won't sleep if he rolls out his sleeping bag despite the comfortable underpad Rosita found him. Turning, he actually expects the slender medic to be his visitor, as she's the only one who generally spends any time with him.
But it's Michonne standing there with a pair of mugs in hand. "I noticed your lights still on and figured you were having trouble getting to sleep."
When she offers the mug, he accepts, absently sniffing the hot liquid, taking in the earthy apple scent. "Chamomile tea. From your personal stash or acquired from our new hosts and compatriots?"
"My own stash. We raided a tea shop and no one wanted to drink tea made from flowers, so I ended up with a few tins of it. Andre likes watching the flowers bloom in the hot water as they rehydrate."
Michonne settles into the patient chair, stretching her legs out in front of her. Eugene is a little surprised that she's staying after bringing the tea, but then again, she hasn't known him long enough to find him tiresome, he supposes.
"Is he sleeping? I was afraid that the change of locales would disturb his sleep cycles with the schedules people always said toddlers needed to adhere to."
"I got lucky that he was never a kid that had a desperate need for a schedule, because the last two months would have been complete hell otherwise. He's curled up with Becca and AJ, happy as a clam to have other kids around."
"The age difference doesn't hinder him from interacting with them?" With their new additions only with them for less than a full day, Eugene hasn't had time to observe the three children's interaction. Andre's four years younger than AJ and seven than Becca, so he expected that the toddler wouldn't be a happy companion for the two older kids.
"Becca is doting on him. He's smaller and more biddable than her brother."
Eugene coughs as he laughs at the wrong point of drinking his tea. "I estimated the wrong coalition among the children then. Becca does take after her father, enough so that Rosita is prone to wisecrack that she's a little drill sergeant in the making."
"The other children fascinate all three of them. Abraham said that our group will grow larger. It's confirmed then? You found what you were looking for?"
"I think so. I have not yet gained permission to conversate with the person in question, but after testing one of the samples this afternoon, I saw activity commiserate with prior studies on a reduced level. The injured deputy received a blood transfusion. I am scheduled to meet with his people after breakfast to present my full scientific effort to the medically trained personnel here."
Once the initial shock of potentially finding another immune person wore off, Eugene can't help the sense of complete relief that floods through him every time he closes his eyes and remembers what he saw through the microscope again. The impossible keeps falling into his lap like some sort of blessing, if such things actually existed.
Michonne looks impressed and a little excited. He understands the thrill that hope gives them both. "Damn. You've got the type of luck that would have me packing you off to Vegas if it still existed."
"That is the sort of place a man of my mental state always made good money, provided I kept my wins small and didn't get caught."
"Counting cards, I hope, and not some other way of gaming the casino."
"I assure you, it was never anything specifically illegal, although I did devise ways to gain winnings by more illicit means. That was simply an exercise of intellect, never meant to be utilized."
She laughs, shaking her head. "You don't have to act like I'm a cop. Quite the opposite before the world went to hell. Up and coming defense attorney, not that all those years of work do me much good anymore."
"On the contrary, I would assume that such techniques taught in law school and in the courtroom should prove invaluable. You are familiar with research and know the value of hard work and determination, correct? The loss of knowledge and people being unable to cope and adapt are worse dangers to our future survival than the actual roaming dead."
"Trust the apocalypse to still make a lawyer useful in some format. I suspect I'll be valued more for my katana than my extensive knowledge of skim reading to find pertinent information. Although I do imagine the ability to go forty-eight hours on no sleep and coffee to study works out well now."
"It seems we are birds of a feather in that aspect. Although the apocalypse at least did me the favor of relieving me of student loans that would have taken me into my retirement to pay off as a research scientist."
Michonne finishes off her tea and accepts his already empty mug. "The world ending is one hell of a level playing field on many levels, isn't it? We'll have to be grateful to your years of study and debt if this vaccine plays out."
"I certainly hope it does." He fiddles with some of the papers he's organized to show Hershel and his people. "Would you like to attend the meeting tomorrow? It occurs to me that we could use someone with your honed sense of logic to make sure that we don't lose sight of the forest for the trees."
"If one of those nice ladies will keep an eye on Andre, sure." She gets to her feet, smiling brightly at him and patting him on the shoulder. "Get some sleep, Eugene. We need you at your brightest and most rested in the days to come."
Eugene watches her go, hand absently going to where he can feel the ghost of her gentle touch. Her slim figure is lit by moonlight as she makes her way to rinse the mugs in a small bin set out for the purpose. Her movements are precise and efficient, and he wonders briefly what watching her in the courtroom would be like. He doesn't entirely understand her going out of her way to spend time with him, since she doesn't seem plagued by the sense of misguided obligated friendliness that Rosita exhibits.
As he's known her less than a full day at this point, he supposes he'll just have to wait and collect more data to see whether she falls in the tolerate or avoid spectrum that are generally the only two options people have for him. The thought of her avoiding him makes him feel disgruntled, but the idea of her simply tolerating him bites deeper than he would like it to. Hoping for anything different from a pretty woman seems futile, so he puts aside his paperwork and shuts off the light.
Sleep will reset his dour mood into something better, since he'll wake to feel the joy of knowing there's a cure out there. Anything else is unnecessary, for now.
A/N: This is a bit of a transitional chapter, as next chapter will be on the road to finding a lab. But due to some consolidation of storylines for my brain to cope, the dear reader who requested the story has adjusted some of her pairing requests so that we're going to focus on the the POV characters and anything else is background.
That means that while the story was tagged as Daryl/Michonne, it is no longer. I'll make that up to those fans in a different story, promise. I thought I'd set up the replacement pairing in this chapter. Hopefully, y'all will trust me with this one like all the quirky ones I've fielded so far. :)
