A/N: A little more interaction between characters, specifically T-Dog and Daryl, because they still have plenty of issues between them that I felt ought to be addressed. Whether or not they can ever really be resolved...well...
Disclaimer: Still not mine!
Lori looked up and smiled at her husband's approach. She was kneeling beside Carl, who'd just fallen asleep after a modest meal. That was the pattern for him and the others who'd suffered most from starvation; eat and sleep. Like they'd been reduced to early infancy. But they were getting better. Already Carl looked to have put on some much needed weight and the color had returned to his complexion.
As Rick joined her at their son's bedside, Lori asked, "How's Shane?" Though loath to admit it to herself, she had been worried about him. Despite the troubles between them, she really didn't want her former lover to die.
"Definitely past the worst of it," he answered, but his somber expression didn't match the good news.
Lori frowned. "What's the matter?"
Rick seemed locked in an internal debate for several moments, then he reached out and took his wife's hand. "I need t' discuss something with you in private."
Lori cast a worried glance at the slumbering boy.
"Don't worry, baby. He'll be fine."
Pursing her lips, she nodded and rose to follow her husband away from the makeshift hospital that was the lobby.
Carol watched the couple leave, her brow furrowed with worry. Like most of the group - those alert enough to observe Rick's and Lori's behavior - she had a pretty good idea what they were going to talk about. Lori's affair with Shane had been an open secret back at the quarry. Despite the illicit couple's efforts to be discreet, there really was no way to keep something like that concealed from such a tiny, close-knit group. There was no such thing as privacy in their situation, only cooperative silence.
Reminding herself that it was none of her business, Carol turned her attention back to the two patients she was tending. One of them was her daughter, who just this morning had mustered a genuine smile for the first time in weeks. The other was poor Glenn. Out of all the adults in the group, aside from Shane, Glenn had suffered the most. Even before they got to that hellish farm, when they were on the road rationing every last crumb they had, Carol had noticed the skinny young Korean become even thinner at an alarming rate. It wasn't long before she figured out that he only ate a mouthful or two of his daily rations and shared the rest with the kids. The selflessness of this act, coupled with the fact that he never felt the need to draw attention to it, touched Carol deeply. Not the least because her daughter was one of the children who benefited from his actions.
Glenn's eyes cracked open and he blinked up at the older woman. A faint smile touched his lips. "Hey."
Carol returned his smile. "How're you feeling?"
"Kinda thirsty."
There was already a cup of water ready for him, along with a bowl of soup. Not too much, they didn't want to strain his shriveled stomach. Carol helped him to sit up and propped him up with some extra pillows. She then gave him a drink from a cup, then picked up the steaming bowl and a spoon.
Glenn looked at the bowl, then at her. "You gonna feed me?" he asked, surprised.
"Unless you think you can handle it yourself."
He raised his arm with obvious effort. "Don't think I'm quite up to tackling a spoon," he observed ruefully, letting his arm flop back down.
Carol grinned. "Well, I may not be quite what you hoped for, but I'm sure like most guys you've fantasized about having a lady feed you."
Glenn chuckled shyly before accepting a spoonful of soup. He was at the point now where he was experiencing actual hunger pangs again and he wanted nothing more than to grab that bowl and gulp down its contents in one big swallow. If he weren't so weak, he'd probably try it. "Thanks, Carol."
She smiled. "Don't mention it."
Andrea watched from her seat in one of the couches as Carol took care of Glenn. It was good to see Carol no longer hiding behind a mask of docile acceptance. Despite the tragedy everyone in the group had experienced the night the walkers overwhelmed their first camp (she shied from the painful memory of Amy), Andrea knew Carol and Sophia were better off without Ed around to hurt and belittle them. Andrea, who'd always been strong and independent, had never understood women who stayed in abusive relationships, especially when they had kids. Didn't they realize they deserved better? Didn't they understand that they could leave, that there were shelters and organizations out there to help them? Didn't they know their situation was totally wrong? Andrea was ashamed to admit to herself she'd always felt a little disdainful of Carol's passivity, thinking her weak and more than a little pathetic for not getting her and her daughter the hell away from Ed. But as one disaster after another beset them, Carol showed herself to be made of stronger stuff. She never panicked, even when she was utterly terrified. Case in point, they never would have escaped from the CDC if she hadn't remembered that grenade she'd kept from Rick's pocket. Andrea couldn't help but smirk at the idea of sweet, kindly Carol carrying an explosive around in her purse.
"Something's amusing you. Care to share?"
She looked at the older man who seated himself beside her. "Nothing much. Just thinking." She returned her attention to Glenn and Carol. "Think she knows Glenn's got a crush on her?"
Carol laughed at something Glenn said to her, much to the younger man's delight.
"Hard to say," Dale said in that slow, thoughtful way of his, "It would be nice to see her gravitate towards someone who'd treat her nicely, even if he is quite a bit younger than her. But then, I'm not really one to pass judgment on age difference." He took Andrea's hand, their fingers interlacing with casual familiarity. If pressed to give a specific time when their relationship changed, Dale would probably say it was shortly after their imprisonment in that barn. The realization that this could finally be it, that they might die in that hell, had made all their doubts and self-illusions melt away. Dale's feelings for Andrea were no more paternal than her feelings for him were merely that of friendship. It might have been that in the beginning, but not now. And once they recovered from their ordeals and regained their strength, their relationship would progress even further into the physical. It wasn't something they talked about. They just knew. And neither was inclined to fight it.
T-Dog walked past Dale and Andrea on his way to the front door. He was bundled up in some heavy clothes and a coat that never would have fit him a few weeks ago, but much of his heftiness was gone thanks to that forced diet of nothing, and it would take some time for his earlier robustness to return. And it would return, he knew it. He felt stronger every day he spent here.
The crisp air hit his bare face like a slap as he opened the door and stepped out into the cold. The snow on the ground blazed with reflected sunlight, making T-Dog grateful for the sunglasses he'd thought to wear. There were kids everywhere having snowball fights, building snowmen and snow forts, plopping down and waving their limbs to create snow angels. By evening there wouldn't be an un-trampled spot anywhere in the immediate area. T-Dog had wondered at Lia allowing the kids to come out and leave such blatant evidence of their presence when she was normally so careful about concealment. But then again, keeping a bunch of children cooped up indoors for the entire winter was a sure way to incite a mutiny. The walls just weren't enough to contain their youthful energy.
Lia and Daryl stood off a short distance from the playing kids, talking about something or other. Daryl had on a camouflaged hunter's coat and had his crossbow slung over his shoulder. T-Dog tromped over and they halted their conversation to look at him, Lia friendly, Daryl indifferent, which was an improvement from the looks he used to give him after Merle was abandoned on that roof.
"Hey," T-Dog said, mostly to Lia, "Y'all got something that needs doing? I'm gettin' a little stir crazy just sitting around all day."
Lia gave him a sympathetic look. "I suppose I could think of something Nana won't say's too strenuous for you."
"I'm not picky," T-Dog told her, "Just wanna feel like I'm doin' something useful." He turned to Daryl and decided to venture a conversational remark. "You goin' hunting?"
Daryl, his expression still unreadable, shook his head, "Checkin' the snares." He'd set dozens of snares out in the woods once he knew he weather would be turning bad. He could hunt in winter, but the odds of success were far slimmer than in milder seasons and Daryl wasn't all that fond of the cold anyway. Snares had just as much chance of success in catching something and required far less time spent out in the snow.
Lia's expression turned thoughtful. "Why don't you take T-Dog with you?"
Both men stared at her.
"Say what now?" T-Dog blurted.
She shrugged. "It only makes sense that more than one person know where the snares are and how to take care of them. Besides, it'd be good for the two of you. Y'know, guy time." She grinned, ignoring Daryl's withering glare.
T-Dog fidgeted uncomfortably. "Uh...well, I guess that's cool if Daryl's alright with it."
Daryl snorted. "Sure. I say no 'n' I'm th' asshole." He shifted his crossbow to a more comfortable position and threw Lia another dirty look. "Damn manipulatin' half-breed."
"Aw, don't be like that," unfazed by his harshness, she pecked him on the cheek, then whispered, "I'll make it worth your while later."
"Damn right y' will." He turned and stomped off for the woods, shouting over his shoulder, "You comin' or not?"
Lia handed T-Dog her club. No one ever went out unarmed. He nodded his thanks, then hurried to catch up with the other man.
They walked in silence for some time. Daryl seemed to be ignoring T-Dog's presence and the latter wasn't inclined to start up a conversation. Instead, they focused on their surroundings. Nobody had seen a walker in some time - probably due to the cold - but that didn't mean there weren't still dangers out there. Other survivors, for example, and encounters with them hadn't gone well so far for either Rick's group or Lia's. T-Dog was surprised at the lack of snow on the ground once they entered the woods until a large clump fell from a tree branch and just missed landing on his head. He looked up and saw the trees sagging under their frozen burdens. Ominous creaks and groans broke the stillness. T-Dog hoped they wouldn't be followed by a loud crack.
Daryl walked on without unconcern. He paused and knelt down at a clump of frozen undergrowth. He straightened a moment later with a satisfied grunt, holding up the limp body of a small rabbit, its fur turned white with the season. He stuffed it into a gunnysack, then held it out to T-Dog. "Y' wanted t' maker yerself useful. You carry th' bag."
T-Dog sighed and took the sack in his left hand, his right still carrying Lia's club. He watched as Daryl reset the snare. "What made you decide t' put it there?"
Daryl glanced at him, then pointed. "See that?"
T-Dog stepped closer to look where the other man pointed. He saw a hollow in the growth, like a tunnel. "A trail?"
"Right. Rabbits 'n' critters always use a trail if there's one around. Easier 'n makin' their own."
"Guess the trick's in spotting them."
Daryl straightened. "Easy a-nuff if yer payin' attention." They continued on. The next couple of snares were empty, the third gone altogether, probably pulled up by something too big for it. Daryl dug out a replacement from his coat pocket and set it. It was a simple thing, a piece of looped wire anchored to the ground with a small spike. Any unfortunate creature that ran through it would find itself caught in an unbreakable noose that grew tighter the more it struggled. If it was lucky, the noose would be around its neck and it would die relatively fast. If not...
T-Dog was amazed at how much blood there was, yet the rabbit continued to breathe in quick, shallow breaths of shock. Its dark eyes were wide open. Its rear leg, tangled in the snare, was bent at an unnatural angle. The wire had cut all the way down to the bone. He felt a surge of pity for the creature's suffering.
Daryl, in contrast, seemed unfazed as he bent down and casually snapped the rodent's neck. He freed the snare from the ground and put it in his pocket. "Ain't gonna catch nuthin' else here. Blood's gonna scare everything off."
T-Dog held the sack open and watched the rabbit drop inside. He stared at the yawning opening until Daryl snapped his fingers in front of his face. "Quit gawpin' and keep up!"
T-Dog pulled the drawstring closed. "Sorry if my sympathy bugs you."
Daryl let out a derisive snort. "Can't all die quick 'n' pretty, Dog. Sometimes it's long 'n' nasty. That's just how it is."
"Like with Merle?" T-Dog stiffened at his own words. What the hell possessed him to even say that?
For a terrible moment he thought Daryl might grab up his crossbow and shoot him then and there, or maybe just come at him with fists swinging. The rage in his face alone was enough to make the black man stagger back a step.
Daryl abruptly turned away and stormed off. "Motherfucker," he growled.
"Look, I'm sorry, man. I don't even know why I said th-"
Daryl whirled on him, his eyes full of hatred, and hissed in a menacing voice, "You say one more fuckin' word and I swear I'll cave yer goddamn skull in." He turned away once again and resumed his march.
A stunned T-Dog stared at his retreating back for a long beat, then slowly followed him. Neither of them said a word as they checked the rest of the snares. Most of them were empty, a few yielded squirrels, rabbit, a possum, and a scrawny cat that had probably once been somebody's beloved pet. Daryl's eyes dared him to say something as he stuffed the unlucky feline into the sack with the other creatures. T-Dog didn't say a word, though he vowed to always check with whoever was cooking from now on before digging into his dinner.
As they swerved to head for home, T-Dog couldn't stand the silence any longer. "I'm sorry your brother got left behind."
Daryl stopped, but kept his back to him.
"I'm sorry I dropped the key."
"We ain't discussin' it," Daryl grated.
"Yeah, we are," T-Dog insisted stubbornly, "I didn't abandon him on purpose, man. I'd never leave someone in that kinda situation no matter how much of an asshole he was. If I'd wanted him dead, I woulda made it quick-"
"Then you shoulda," Daryl snarled, finally turning to face him. His blue eyes were colder than the air around them. "You shoulda put a bullet in him or used one o' Dale's hammers on him. But y' didn't. You just left him on that fuckin' roof t' die slow!"
"I know," T-Dog said, somber, "I'm not askin' for your forgiveness. I just wanted you to know that I do feel guilty for that. I'll be carryin' that guilt with me the rest of my life."
"Good," Daryl spat, "And I ain't forgivin' you. Not ever."
T-Dog nodded. "I'll go once spring comes around-"
"Like hell! If you leave when everybody else 's stayin' Lia's gonna ask why." Daryl stepped close until his eyes bore into T-Dog's. "I ain't lettin' you make me the bad guy in this."
T-Dog stared at the other man in something akin to wonder. "You really care what she thinks of you."
"I'm fuckin' her, dumbass. Course I care what she thinks."
The black man shook his head. "No, it's more than just you keepin' her happy so she'll put out."
Daryl squared his broad shoulders. "So what if it is? Think dumb rednecks like me ain't capable of lovin' somebody? Sounds like yer the bigot here."
T-Dog couldn't help it, he laughed, and somehow that diffused the potentially deadly tension between them. "My God, Daryl Dixon's fallen in love. And with a half-Indian at that. I can't think of a bigger miracle than that."
"I can," Daryl said in a much quieter voice, his eyes turning away, "She loves me back."
"Hell, I already knew that from the way she looks at ya. I just didn't expect it to go both ways. I even felt sorry for her 'cause of that," T-Dog confessed.
Daryl shrugged. "Only gonna last 'til she comes t' her senses."
"Don't talk like that, man," T-Dog admonished.
Daryl stared at him for a long time, his earlier rage no longer present. "I ain't forgivin' you," he repeated.
T-Dog nodded. "I understand."
Daryl turned away and they both continued for home.
Lia was standing in almost the same spot when they returned, as if she'd been waiting anxiously for them the whole time. She walked over to Daryl with a welcoming smile. "So, how'd it go?"
"Not bad. Some rabbits, coupla squirrels, a possum."
"Don't forget the cat," T-Dog added, handing Lia back her club with a nod of thanks.
Lia wrinkled her nose. "A cat?"
"Sure," Daryl grinned, "Cats 're good eatin'."
"You're more than welcome to it," T-Dog retorted. He headed for the building with the gunnysack. "I'll take this on in to the kitchen."
"Thanks." Lia turned to Daryl, her look more sober than before. "So, aside from the cat, anything else interesting happen out there?" She knew circumstances of Merle's abandonment. Daryl had told her everything. She knew he blamed T-Dog more than the others for losing the key to the handcuffs.
Daryl stepped up to her and put his arms around her waist. "'Fraid I was gonna put an arrow in him?"
"No, but I wouldn't put it past you." She draped her arms around his neck. The bulkiness of their coats prevented them from getting as close as she wanted. "We should go inside, get out of these bulky clothes."
Daryl's grin turned lascivious. "Can't wait t' make it worth my while, huh?"
Lia snorted. "Sure, you're irresistible," she said wryly.
He kissed her. "That makes two of us."
"Wow! I'm impressed. That was real smooth." Her eyebrows rose.
Daryl smirked. "I got my moments." He took her by the arm and led her inside, not caring if it made him seem eager. He was eager, after all. And best of all, so was Lia. Which made Daryl feel like one lucky son of a bitch.