Author's Note: I love you guys. Marry me?
Question: Is it ever said what T-Dog did for a living before? For the purposes of this he is a Brickie, but yanno, correct me or whatever.
TWDTWDTWD
She spent the afternoon on the porch of the house, preparing the squirrels for dinner. Rick and Hershel set to work ripping up the allotment. A lot of the vegetables had been left in the ground and had rotted away, so the men were at work to remove it all and prepare the ground for new seeds.
Some of the trees however, still bore some fruit and the rest of the women were working to remove what needed taking before it went bad or got eaten by birds. Carol had spotted persimmon, apples and pears, even a few lemons too. After she had finished with the squirrels, she worked with Lori and Carl on the ground to pick some blackcurrants and blackberries from the bushes. She hoped that if she wrote a list, whoever went out the next day would get her some ingredients to make pies. There would be enough fruit for several. She could even use the rest to make chutneys and jams, save it going to waste.
T-Dog and Glenn returned close to 5pm, the van contained the boxes of seeds, sorting through them she spotted plenty that they could make use of through the winter, carrots, brussel sprouts and sweet potatoes, if they planted them in the next few days. They'd even brought bags of soil, some tools and a pop up greenhouse. It was better than they could have hoped for.
But the bulk of the van was filled with bricks, mountains of them, bags of cement mix and of all things, a cement mixer. T-Dog explained with much excitement that he could build them a fort, block them in and protect them from outsiders; living or undead. Rick nodded in agreement, questioning the man on how he thought it should be done, Carol learnt that before the dead started walking, T-Dog worked on a builder's yard and making a wall like this would be a piece of cake. It was just a case of having the time to do it - it was a large perimeter, if they wanted to include the plots and the orchard.
"There's more materials, in the yard, just couldn't fit them in the van. I figure if we can go and get three loads tomorrow, I could get a 6 foot wall going. It'd take me awhile, but I could get started on it tomorrow?" T-Dog looked more animated than she had ever seen him, Carol stopped to listen to him, box of seeds in hand.
"Well, I've never built a wall before, but do you think you could show us? If you had three or four more then that would save time." She offered. "I know we need to get these seeds in the ground now, before it gets too cold but if we split up and focus on just these tasks, we could get this done a hell of a lot faster, I think."
Rick nodded in agreement. "That's a good idea. You think you can show us T-Dog?"
T-Dog nodded his head. "Sure, if I can lay the foundation line first, I don't see why not, man. If I could get you, Glenn, Hershel and Daryl on it, we could be done in a couple of weeks."
"Someone singin' for me?" Daryl drawled from behind them, coming up through the orchard, Carol was surprised to see that he didn't have any kills strapped to him., just leaves bundled in string dangling from his belt. "What's all this shit?" He gestured to the mound of bricks that had been stacked up against the wood shed.
"We're building a wall. You up for mixing up some cement tomorrow?"
He stopped for a moment, head cocked to one side, considering the propostion. "You're gonna need more bricks than that to build a fort." He told them, pulling off his crossbow from his back. "But, sure why not?"
"I can go back there tomorrow." Glenn piped up. "If you write me a list, T-Dog, a couple of others could come with me, we can do it in three trips. You can get started that way."
"I'll go." Carol offered. "I don't mind."
Daryl shot her a look. "No, you ain't. Me and Glenn will go. Rest of you can make a start. Weather's turning, we're getting less daylight. We need to get this show on the road. Next time we make 'nother trip into town, we get some fishin' lines. There's a river not more than half a mile over, plenty to catch. But there are Walkers, think there might have be somethin' on the other side of the river and they strayed over. I took out four. They were alone and it was 'bout a mile and a half up the river."
"Then we take extra care outside." Hershel told them, hand resting on his belt, a knife hanging from it. "No-one steps a foot outside unarmed and no-one loses sight of the house unless they're with someone else."
"T-Dog." Rick clapped the man on the shoulder. "Let's go draw up some plans for this great wall."
Carol tucked the last box of seeds in the wood shed before following the others into the house. Lori was already preparing dinner and she intended to help, after she spoke to him.
She saw his feet at the top of the stairs and she started after him. Without knocking, she walked into his room, where he was rooting in drawers, for what she couldn't tell. He looked at her briefly as she entered, before going back to his search. She stared at him from the door way, arms folded. "What?" He asked her, finally.
"Why won't you let me go?" She asked.
"Just 'cause you killed a coupla squirrels, don't mean you're ready for goin' to town. You ain't ready." He didn't pause his rifling through the drawers as he spoke.
"I gotta have a chance, Daryl." she dropped her defensive stance and stepped fully into the room.
"You'll get one. When you're ready. There ain't no rush anyhow." He finally found what he was looking for, a leather glove and slammed the drawer he took it from shut. "You got needle and thread?"
She was taken aback at the change in discussion. "Yes. But I'm not good for sewing at the moment." She waggled her bandaged hand. "Why?"
He shook his head. "Go get your weapon. I'll show you how to clean the arrows before it gets dark."
With that, he left her standing in his room alone, carrying the single leather glove.
TWDTWDTWD
That night's squirrel was the best she'd ever tasted. She hadn't even ended up cooking it, instead of helping the other women in the kitchen, she sat at a picnic table on the porch, learning how to maintain the bow and arrows in the fading sunlight. She didn't know which squirrels were hers after they'd been cooked, but knowing that she'd put food on her own plate, on other people's plates, was a feeling unlike any other.
Guilt plagued her when she saw Lori's nauseous face as she cleared the plates and she rushed to take over, taking charge of the washing up with Carl. When she finished, she heard Rick slam the front door shut, sliding the makeshift barricade over it. They were in for the night.
She said her goodnights to the Grimes family, who were huddled up on the couch in the sitting room, as she wearily trudged the stairs she realised how exhausted she was. She wondered if Daryl would wake her in the morning or if he was making an early start on the runs into town.
Stopping in the bathroom, she looked in the mirror and was surprised with how grubby her face looked. She never got this bad and she often wondered how Daryl got so grimy. There was her answer. Hunting was a dirty job, quite literally. She scrubbed her face with a soapy flannel and cold water before heading up to her little attic room.
She hadn't even opened the door to the room before she heard footsteps creeping behind her, making her jump.
"What you creeping around for?" She asked, hand placed against her heart.
"Need that needle and thread." Daryl answered, following her into the room. He had two bowls in his hand, one filled with water, a cloth floating in it, the other was smaller, filled with something goopy she couldn't name, although it smelled familiar.
She hunted around the bedside cabinet and drew out the little sewing kit, sitting on the bed to pull out a reel of thread. "Is it urgent? I can ask Lori to do it if it is."
"Hell woman, I managed to live without you lot cluckin' round me all the damn time, you know." He put the bowls down on the cabinet, and drew a couple of bandages and a pair of scissors from his pocket and then took the thread from her and unravelled it, snapping it with his teeth, before deftly threading a needle. He pulled a scrap of leather from his other pocket and she recognised it as a piece of the glove he was hunting for earlier, cut into an odd shape.
She laughed gently as he sat himself on the bed. "Is that right? You lived on your own, before?" She asked, watching him with interest as he started stitching the edge of the leather.
"Yeah. Merle was about sometime, in between rounds in the pen."
"Patched up your own shirts then?" He sensed the teasing in her voice and looked up from his work.
"Yeah, I patched up my own damn shirts." He told her, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Wash your arm." He nodded to the bowls sitting on the dresser.
She looked at him questioningly but began to unravel the bandage covering her from elbow to wrist anyway.
"You need to apply the aloe over it, then wrap it back up." He didn't break his concentration from creating tiny stitches around the edge of the leather.
They each worked silently for ten minutes, concentrating on their individual tasks. As soon as the aloe hit her skin, Carol felt relief from the sting, it was heavenly.
As she pulled the grubby bandaids from her fingers to give them the same treatment, she heard him snap the thread again and he stood up to show her the finished piece.
"What is it?"
"It's a finger tab." He grasped her by the wrist and slid it carefully over her swollen fingers, it fitted perfectly, cover all the blisters like a glove. "Won't bother you as much anymore."
She looked up at him in a way he could only describe as adoring. As if she could read his mind, she rearranged her features into something a little less frightening for him and smiled. "Thank you. This'll help." She slid the tab off and set it on her bedside cabinet before moving back to the aloe.
It was awkward using her left hand, something she wasn't used to and she looked at him hesitantly, silently asking for help.
He stepped over, turning her hand to wash at the cuts as gently as he could. She turned her head away to grit her teeth at the contact.
"Sorry." He muttered gruffly.
"S'ok" She grimaced, turning back to watch him cut some of the remaining bandage in half, soaking it in the aloe pulp, before weaving it around her fingers.
"Just wear it for tonight, give it some air tomorrow, now you got the tab." He told her.
She nodded and let him finish off by wrapping dry bandage over the top, binding her four fingers together. He pinned it closed and wiped his hands off on his trouser legs.
"I guess I'll see you in the mornin'."
"You got time tomorrow, if you're doing all those trips to town?" She asked, following him to the door.
He nodded and left as silently as he arrived.