Harry jerked awake when the truck came to a stop.
After staying awake save for an hour nap and some pepper-up, he'd hunkered down against the truck door while Daryl drove in a mirror of the day before. Merle rode ahead of the convoy on his motorcycle followed by the jeep with the Grimes, then Carol's car, the RV, and finally Daryl and Harry bringing up the rear. Daryl had given him a knowing look when he swung into the truck without a word.
It had quickly become clear over the last twenty-four hours that the Dixons were sticking with Black, even before he and Merle had had a few words to that effect before he passed out the previous night.
Harry had gotten a couple more hours' of sleep while they rolled on, this time he assumed they were going with Shane's plan for Fort Benning, a good hundred and some miles away. With the state of things and needing to stop every night and source fuel and food every day, Harry would wager it would take over a week to get there. Or more.
Plenty of time for him to decide who he should bring home with him – and who to try and leave.
"Whazit?" He asked groggily as he rubbed as his gritty eyes, Daryl laughing quietly as they climbed out of the truck.
"RV broke down again." Daryl cursed.
"Fan-fucking-tastic." Harry sighed, blinking open eyes and taking in the scene ahead of them. "Well it could be worse." He pointed out as Rick hollered for Merle, the elder Dixon doing most of the engine repairs…apparently. He continued to speak as they met up with the group surrounding the RV. "Lots of cars in this jam up. We can source fuel and supplies from them and then push them out of the way while Merle works on the RV."
"I don't know how I feel about that." Lori protested rubbing at her arms with a shiver. "This is a graveyard…it's like…"
"Stealing from the dead?" Harry asked mockingly, saying what she couldn't bring herself to say. "They're dead. What the fuck to they need food, fuel, and supplies for huh?" He rolled his eyes and the Dixons snorted in mute agreement.
"Hey!" Rick snarled. "Watch how you talk to my wife and around my kid."
"Your wife?" Harry arched a brow. "And here from those scratches on his neck I was thinking she was Shane's girlfriend."
Shane swung on Harry with a roar, only to be knocked back by a crossbow to the chest.
"Uh uh." Daryl tsked. "He's the only reason we're all alive right now. You got a problem with the truth? Take it up with the harlot you're fuckin' behind her husband's back."
"Oh come on." Merle added as the group gasped and Lori started up with her whiny protests. "We all know they were screwin' every chance they had before Ranger Rick showed up alive. Don't take it out on Pretty for sayin' what shoulda been said days ago."
Most of the group looked uncomfortable as Rick grabbed Lori and Shane and drug them off for what looked like a come-to-Jesus meeting.
"Alright." Harry sighed, pinching his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "We're all tired and still shaky from the CDC. I didn't mean to say it," like that, "but what's done is done and we still have to carry on."
Everyone could agree with that as seen by the round of nods. As one almost they shifted from watching the Grimes drama to paying attention to Harry who stepped into the void made by the steadily-escalating fight at the roadside. Merle and Daryl, already secure in what they should be doing, headed off to look for either parts to fix the RV or supplies.
"Dale, if you could keep watch from the RV?" Harry asked, the elder man nodding genially and climbing up. "Jacqui, if you would keep Carl and Sophia occupied in the RV?" He asked, nodding when the oldest woman gathered up the kids and ushered them inside. "Great." He sighed, eyeing the rest. "T-Dog and Glenn work on sourcing fuel if you would. Ladies." He turned to Carol and Andrea, "go with them and have them pop trunks and doors for you to source supplies."
With everyone set to a job, Harry trotted off after the Dixons, set on helping them with his own bag almost full to the brim after the high-rise and the CDC.
He really needed to take a couple hours and pop back to the estate, he told himself. Empty his pack except for what he needed in case he came across another supermarket or barracks. But it could wait, he decided. At least until they stopped for the night.
They'd been at it for a while and the brawl between Rick and Shane had finally broken up with the two men licking their wounds and both ignoring each other and a still-squawking Lori…for the moment…when Dale called out the alert.
"Walkers! Down, walkers!"
Harry found himself under a van with Daryl tucked in close to his side, the other man's closeness reminding him all-too-well that he hadn't had any…companionship since he'd started summer break from school. The guys at the estate were all like family to him. And honestly, none of them had really hit his gaydar as either bent or curious.
Although…
He did wonder sometimes about Axel but the massive blonde wasn't really his type. He was nice enough – for an ex-con – but quiet and rather meek at times. Harry wanted someone who didn't mind tossing shit back at him or standing toe-to-toe with him. An equal. Or as close to it as he could get in a world with a distinct lack of magical kind.
As it was, Daryl was handsome in that same rugged way as his older brother, and tough as nails. Harry didn't doubt for a moment he could hold his own. He just had a hard time pegging the brothers. Partially at least because they were rather taciturn. He thought Merle might be at least a little bent with how he calls him Pretty every other time they talk but…he shook his head. It was damn-near impossible to say.
Harry cursed a little under his breath as the heat and scent of Daryl filled his senses. With showers just that morning it wasn't a bad scent by any means. Just…Daryl. Spice and leather and male.
Merle was similar only with a hint of engine grease.
And…
Thinking about that wasn't helping him lose his very badly timed hard-on.
Feet shuffled past with excruciating slowness as Harry fought to control his hormones. After what seemed like forever – but was around fifteen minutes – Dale called the all-clear. Only for things to go to hell in a handbasket all over again.
"Lori!" Rick called, not seeing his wife anywhere. "Lori?!"
"Rick, what?" Shane asked only to get ignored as the other cop ran over towards the RV and Dale.
"Dale!" Rick yelled up to the watchman. "Can you see Lori anywhere?"
The older man paled and stood, searching frantically before calling out a negative.
"Jesus, fuck!" Rick slammed one fist into the side of the RV. "We have to find her!"
"And we will brother." Shane calmed him down, their issues put aside for the moment in the face of a larger crisis. "We will."
"Anyone else missing?" Harry asked calmly as he and Daryl trotted up the rest dogging their heels. "Jacqui, the kids?"
"Everyone is accounted for." Glenn said as he did a quick headcount. "It's just Lori."
"Alright then." Harry blew out a breath, sending a glance at Merle who went back to working on the RV. "Who knows how to track?"
"The Dixons." Shane admitted reluctantly. "Me and Rick."
"Me too." Harry nodded. "But Merle needs to stay and get that engine running. Twilight is coming in fast and we don't want to be dead in the water still come morning."
"WE need to find Lori." Rick almost screamed in the younger man's face, who just stood there and took it calmly.
"We'll look for her." Harry agreed with a small nod. "But we're not going to kill off everyone else in the process. Daryl?"
"Yeah."
"Try and find a trail, yeah?"
"On it." The hunter trotted over to the last place he remembered seeing the annoying woman before looking for tracks.
"Now." Harry eyed the others. "Once Daryl has a trail, him, you two." He pointed to the cops. "And me will spread out and see what we can find before dark. If we find her great, if not she's a grown-ass woman who should be smart enough to survive the night and we'll pick it back up in the morning, clear?"
"Who the hell died and made you king, huh?" Shane demanded getting up in the little shit's face.
"Your ability to be rational." Harry shot back with a smirk and a drawl. "Or your ability to keep your hands off of your best-friend's wife: take your pick."
Shane shoved him back with a growl, only to find himself on the pavement courtesy of a roundhouse punch to the jaw from the man he'd written off as a nerd on finding out he went to medical school.
"Shee-it, Pretty." Merle called admiringly from where he was watching the drama. "Where'd you learn to hit like that?"
"My Papa taught me." Harry called back with a laugh as he watched impotent rage brew in those dark beady eyes. "You wanna see what else he taught me?" He asked the bigger man as Shane climbed back to his feet, hands clenching and unclenching in his rage.
"Hey, hey, hey." Dale crowded in between the two hands shoving them apart. "This isn't the time for this."
"Dale's right." Rick ground out as he wavered, not entirely sure who's side he would take if things went any further. "We need to focus on Lori."
"I got a trail!" Daryl called back.
"Thank Jesus for that." Dale said under his breath, not sure otherwise if Shane's powder keg temper would hold in the face of a challenging opponent.
"Alright." Harry called back. "Alright?" He asked as the two cops drew their sidearms.
"Fine." Shane bit out as Rick nodded before leading the way at Harry's wave of a hand.
"Be careful, Pretty." Merle warned Harry lowly as he walked past him, the younger man giving him a calm look and a nod.
He wasn't about to die from a bullet to the back now that he thought he might've found something of his own outside of his family that was worth living for.
Not by a long shot.
It was a discouraged Rick and Shane to stumbled back onto the highway well after dark. Harry and Daryl had returned just as the sun started to go down but Rick and Shane had ignored their advice and carried on. Honestly, the Dixons were making bets on whether the two cops would make it back at all, let alone in one piece.
"Lost her trail." Rick told the others as he accepted a plate of food from a hovering Carol. Carl had cried himself to sleep in the RV with Sophia resting alongside him.
"You can try again in the morning." Dale said in an attempt to comfort the lost man. "She's a smart woman. She'll make it until we can find her again."
Rick just grunted, Shane silently scowling down at the plate of beans as he worked his way through it.
"We're sleeping in the rigs tonight." T-Dog reported. "Merle got the RV running again…so that's something at least."
"How long do we wait and look?" Andrea broached the dangerous question as the Dixons and Black were all off either on watch (Merle) or hunkered down for the night in the truck (Harry and Daryl). "What?" She demanded at the aghast look she got from Rick and Dale. "I'm asking because if it was any one of us, Shane would've already left us for dead with Lori as his little cheerleader." She sneered. "As he," she jabbed a finger at Shane who was flushed once more with temper. "Has said over and over: this is a numbers game now. How much in resources: time, ammo, and fuel; do we waste on one woman who barely contributes except to cause problems, huh?" Her eyes demanded support from the others who were as well aware of the shortcomings of Lori Grimes as Andrea herself was, mainly T-Dog, Carol, and Jacqui, Lori's husband and lover not going to bad-mouth her even after the shit she pulled and Glenn and Dale too damn nice to.
"We're not gonna leave Lori to the walkers." Rick said firmly, eyes glaring daggers at the blonde woman. "We'll keep looking until we find her."
"Yeah." Andrea scoffed, climbing to her feet and making her way back to her bunk. "That's what I thought you'd say."
"Rick." Dale interjected calmly as the others headed off either to sleep or in the case of Glenn to take over Merle's watch. "I don't know if you've…noticed. But things are changing in the group. You push them too hard and some will start splitting off."
"And go where?" Shane snorted derisively. "We're the best chance of surviving this thing and they know it, for all their bitching."
"No." Dale said ponderously as he left for his own bed. "I don't think that's necessarily true." He eyed the thoughtful Rick for a moment advising him to: "Think on it. You might not be the only game in town anymore."
"We'll help you pick up her trail again." Merle compromised the next morning.
The debate that Andrea had sparked the previous night had flared back up in the presence of the Dixons and Harry, with that trio agreeing – to no one's shock – that they didn't want to burn daylight looking for as Merle put it "a weak link who wouldn't survive much longer anyhow."
Another fight was narrowly avoided thanks this time to Carl between Rick and Merle, the elder Dixon still having bad blood for the cop who left him to die.
"She wouldn't do it for us brother." Daryl sneered at the cops. "Not for our lives and the guns, isn't that what she said Ranger Rick, when I went back for Merle?"
"Mom said that?" Carl asked his father with eyes the size of dinner plates.
"Regardless of what she said or didn't say." Rick waved it off. "We're looking for her again. That's final."
"And we'll lead you to her trail – or where you two lost it last night." Harry said equally resolute. "That is also final."
Rick sighed, shoulders slumping and gave a tired nod. It wasn't like he could force them to help at gunpoint. Which would be useless since at this point he was pretty sure the newly-formed trio out-armed him and Shane from picking up supplies at the CDC.
"I wanna look for Mom." Carl announced, breaking away from where he'd been corralled by Jacqui and Carol. "Please, Dad? I wanna find her too."
Rick and Shane shared a glance over his head, Shane giving a "it's your call," shrug.
"Okay." Rick sighed, staring down at his boy firmly. "You stay with us. At all times, Carl. You hear?"
"Yeah, Dad." If Carl had a tail it would be wagging, the boy excited to be doing something useful.
"Alright then." Harry nodded. "Daryl and Merle will lead you back to the trail. The rest of us will keep moving cars and sourcing fuel and supplies. If you're not back by sunup tomorrow…" Harry warned trailing off.
Honestly, if he was more of a dick he would take off with the rest of the group while the Grimes contingent was on walkabout.
But he couldn't make himself leave the boy.
He laughed to himself as he went to pick up with sourcing from the day before. Rick giving into his son may have just kept him from being left behind like so much excess baggage.
Daryl and Merle had returned and they'd almost finished clearing the car boneyard when a shot rang out for miles.
Harry cursed. A single shot wasn't likely to be from walkers. He only hoped Shane had managed to control his homicidal tendencies and hadn't decided to do away with Rick.
Meeting back up with the others, they conferenced in real quick.
"If we heard that so did walkers." Merle cursed under his breath. "They'll head right for whoever popped that shot off."
"Any idea how far away it was?" Harry asked the former Marine.
Merle got a distant look in his eye as he did some figuring. "Anywhere from one to ten miles, hard to say."
Harry nodded. "We'll get back to work, finish clearing the cars and load up. We have to be ready to roll if trouble hits us – whether the Grimes' are back or not."
The rest nodded and scattered, moving with more purpose than they had previously – except for the Dixons who always moved like a herd would set upon them at any moment. Sophia was tucked back in the RV with Jacqui while Dale moved back up top to keep watch.
And they waited.
At the Greene farmhouse everything was in chaos. They'd found Lori and had been heading back to the road when Otis – forgetting to clear the area – shot Carl on accident. Rick had run back towards the road having gotten directions while Shane and Lori followed Otis.
"Hershel!" Otis yelled, feeling guilty and panicked as hell. "Gotta patient for ya."
"Wait." Shane demanded. "Unless he's a doc he just needs to keep Carl stable."
"What?" Lori looked at Shane aghast, exhausted from a night spent up a tree and not able to sleep lest she fall onto walkers.
"Harry." Shane bit out grimly. He didn't like that little shit or the Dixons, in fact he'd go so far as to say he hated them but Harry… "He's a medical student, remember?" He nudged Lori out of the way as a white-haired man bustled into the room. "And one helluva one if I read Jenner right." Shane looked over at the snow-hair who must be Hershel. "Just clean the wound and keep him stable as best you can. Rick will be back with our doc on the double."
"Glad of that." Hershel said with a self-depreciating laugh. "Imma vet not a people doctor."
The group waiting anxiously, or resignedly depending on the person, at the RV started when they heard crashing coming from the trees. After several months dealing with walker they knew that was a person and they were coming in fast.
"That ain't good." Daryl commented, shouldering his crossbow and aiming for the area the racket was coming from.
"No, it isn't." Harry agreed absently, his sword held loosely but firmly in his hand.
For good or ill, whoever was coming was going to bring walkers down on their heads with the noise they made. And in the wake of the largest herd Harry had seen the other day on the highway, it raised everyone's hackles. People were already on edge between that and Lori going missing without dealing with an idiot bringing more undead down on them.
No matter what their intentions.
"Harry!"
It was Rick, moving as if the devil himself was on his tail.
"Load up." Harry gave to order without a second glance. "We can't stay now no matter what news Rick has."
The rest climbed into their various rigs, Harry standing loping off on silent feet to meet the frantic lawman.
"What?" He bit out, less-than-thrilled with Rick's extremely reckless arrival.
"Carl's been shot." Rick gasped out, bending over hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath after the several-mile run through the forest terrain. "A hunter after a deer, the bullet went through-and-through and into my son."
"Where?"
It was a two-fold question, both where was the boy and where was he hit? Fortunately, Rick wasn't completely worthless and knew exactly what he meant.
"A farm, a couple miles down the road," Rick raised his eyes to meet implacable emerald. "It's a gut wound."
Harry cussed up a storm at that. "You're with us." He jerked his thumb at the cab of the pickup, Merle once more taking point on the motorcycle. "Merle!" Harry called over the roar of engines. "Take flank, Officer Friendly's our nav on point this run!"
Merle shot him a good-natured but crude two-finger salute before waiting for everyone else to pull out before getting in line behind the RV.
It was a tenser than tense ride to the Greene farmhouse as Harry sat between Rick and Daryl, neither man overly enamored with the other and Harry plain fed-up with both Rick's mealy-mouthing and Shane and Lori's bullying.
"Tell me again what happened." Harry demanded after Rick pointed out the off-turn to the farm, spotting a woman on horseback waiting for them at the gate.
"An older man – Otis – was out hunting." Rick said, words tripping over themselves as Daryl roared to a stop in the driveway, Rick bolting out of the car and Harry on his heels with his pack in one hand. "He didn't see us. Bullet went through-and-through, hit Carl in the lower abdomen." Rick's gaze caught on Lori crying on Shane's shirt as they rushed through the door a blonde girl pointed out to them. "He was bleeding pretty bad."
Harry's gaze swung to the older gentleman with white hair who was taking Carl's pulse with an old pocket watch as he came to stand over Carl's sweating and groaning form. Harry rubbed his hands down quickly with the rubbing alcohol the man held out as the grey-beard took over from Rick.
"I've kept him as steady and stable as I could." Hershel explained to the young man with the piercing green gaze. "He's lost a lot of blood, going to need a transfusion to make it through. But the bullet splintered best as I can tell." Hershel lifted the tea-towel that was stained red with Carl's blood. "I've never removed bullet fragments from a human before, I'm not sure of the anatomy or procedures."
"Okay." Harry took a deep breath as he peered down at the open and sluggishly-bleeding wound. His gaze swung back over to the boy's parents. "Either of you a donor match?"
"I am." Rick said gravely, Lori nodding along having traded one pair of arms for the other.
"In that case," Harry pointed at Rick. "I need you to stay, as well as…"
Hershel supplied his name quickly.
"As well as Doc Greene, here." He made a vamoose motion towards the door. "Everybody else out I need quiet to concentrate. This is delicate work needing doing."
When Lori swung around to face Rick to protest all she got was a shake of his head. He wasn't about to fight the younger man. Not when it was Carl's life on the line. He meaning-filled look at Shane had his…best friend, former best friend?...moving to usher the brunette out of the room, ignoring her protests all the way.
"Alright then." Harry took a deep breath and dug out some medical supplies from his pack.
"What've you got there, son?" Hershel asked, half out of professional interest and half out of a desire to learn what he'd need to take care of his people in this new world they were facing.
Harry sensed both motivations and explained as he went.
"IV supplies, for both the transfusion and to keep Carl hydrated and supply his meds straight to the bloodstream." He handed the kit over to Hershel who immediately started prepping the boy's forearm opposite the wound. Harry approved with a nod of the elder's work. "Local anesthetic for when I have to dig out the shrapnel, tweezers, medical-grade stitching supplies, antibiotics, and a general anesthetic strong enough to knock out a horse." He gave a grim smile at the last. "Once you've got that IV in we'll set up a bag of saline and administer the general, once that's done I'll give the local and start on the wound. When I've got it cleaned and start stitching him up, I'll need you to get Rick set up and start the transfusion Hershel."
"Got it, son." Hershel nodded, looping the saline bag onto a coat rack to keep it steady, watching with interest as Harry explained the drug he was using to knock out the boy and the dosage, timing it with his wristwatch before he rubbed his hands down again to sterilize them, doing the same to the tweezers and a scalpel he dug out as well before setting to work.
It was one of the hardest things Rick ever had to do, sitting there in silence as Hershel held a light for Harry – a man Rick barely knew – to operate on his son. The younger man explained what he was doing step by step, giving Rick some relief, though he knew full-well that it was much more for Hershel's education than to alleviate Rick's fears. Though, in a part of Rick's brain that was separated from the fear and tension, he had to admit that the man who looked not much out of his teens was doing one hell of a job educating the older veterinarian.
"Flush the wound again for me, Hershel." Harry asked the older man, the two of them quickly falling into a sort of comradery as they labored over the panting boy, Carl close to shock from blood loss even with the fluids and drugs. Harry made a pleased hum as he didn't see any more shards in need of removal. "That's all of them." He decided cracking his neck and trading the scalpel for the needle and the dissolving stitches for the interior of the wound. He could use regular silk on the outer stitching, but the boy would heal faster with the sterile dissolving kind on the inside. "Rick, we need you over here to start the transfusion, you know how to switch between the saline bag and the direct transfusion, Hershel?"
"I'm familiar, son." Hershel chuckled a little now that the worst was over. "Just usually my patients are a little bigger and furrier."
"Fair enough." Harry laughed, wiping his forehead on his sleeve before hunkering back down and starting on the stitches. He would need to start the antibiotics yet, and that cut of T-Dogs needed a check, the fool tried to keep him from tending it. He lost that fight, of course, but now Harry took a sort of vindictive pleasure in poking and prodding the other man until he got used to having someone to look after their cuts and scrapes around.
After the transfusion was finished, Hershel helped a woozy Rick down the stairs, almost being pounced on in the process by the man's wife as he led him into the kitchen and sat him in a chair.
"Well?" The woman demanded, only to get hushed by her husband.
"Bethie, would you get some sweet tea and crackers for Sheriff Grimes, here?" He asked his daughter politely, like the southern gentleman his mama had raised him as. "He needs to replenish a little, just in case another transfusion is required."
Lori went white at that, knowing well enough from Rick's stay at the hospital that one person can't give too much blood too close together without being in danger themselves. If they were going to risk that… Carl must be in more danger than she thought.
Rick, looking up from the cool glass of tea he was gulping down, saw the look on her face and rushed to reassure her before she went barging back into Carl's sickroom and irritating the shit out of Harry.
He didn't know what it was about the two of them or about Harry and Shane for that matter but either combination was like gas and a match…and the last thing they could afford right now was another blow-up.
"He's fine for now." Rick reported, others around the room and listening from the hall letting out a relieved breath.
Everyone liked the Grimes boy, those that knew him anyway, and the Greenes were all just happy that Otis didn't accidentally take an innocent life.
"Harry cleaned out the wound and stitched him up, neat as you please." Hershel added, admiration plain in his voice. "Real steady hands on that boy, couldn't have done better myself, and likely worse."
"As Hershel said." Rick nodded. "Harry's giving him the first round of some antibiotics now, and a saline drip to keep him hydrated."
"Where did he get all that?" Carol asked mystified. She'd never seen those sort of medical supplies from all the cars they raided over the last couple of days.
"The CDC." Merle hollered in answer, smoking and listening to the chatter from the porch near the open kitchen window. "He knew going in that something was off. If I had to guess, then he talked to the doc right off and got the situation."
"He spent the whole right clearing the building while we slept." Glenn spoke up quietly. "He was making his way up to the top of the building when I went to bed, and I saw him heading for the basement in the middle of the night when I had to pee. I don't think he slept but an hour or two the whole time we were there."
"Agreed." Merle said gruffly. "I found a med kit in my pack I didn't put there, and extra food. Daryl was the same."
"Same." Carol whispered from where she was sitting beside Sophia. "I thought maybe I was being distracted with everything that's happened but there were extra supplies in our bags I don't remember packing."
"Everyone else?" Rick arched a brow, his group all shuffling their feet or blushing and giving a nod or agreeing shrug.
"Not mine." Shane shook his head with a growl.
"Gee." Daryl drawled mockingly. "I wonder why that would be…?"
The rest of the group, save the Grimes, laughed uncomfortably as Shane growled and stormed from the house.
Hershel stood and gestured for Rick to follow him, having gathered that he was some sort of leader for the group, though he still wasn't sure of the dynamic as yet.
"Not that I don't understand the bind we're all in these day." Hershel said as the two stood next to the chicken coop. "But this is my home, and the farm produces enough for my family with only a little left over. Y'all can stay until the boy is back on his feet but I don't want you to get too comfortable. After that y'all need to move on."
"Okay." Rick agreed easily, already planning on working on the older man to let them stay despite his words. "We can do that, we'll all pitch in around here until Carl's better."
"Another thing, Rick." Hershel said with a severe look. "I'm not comfortable with all the guns I see. Y'all wanna stay, you lock the guns up unless someone is going huntin', you hear?"
"Again, your place, your rules, Hershel." Rick held up his hands in a show of not fighting. "I'll have them all collect 'em up and put 'em away in the morning."
"You do that." Hershel nodded once, sharply before going back inside and up the stairs to pick Harry's brain some more on the differences between doctoring humans and livestock, grabbing a pitcher of sweet tea and some muffins to share as he went.
So far, from what Hershel could tell, Harry was one of the only members of this group that he was comfortable having around. But only time would tell, and it would be a couple weeks at least before little Carl was up and around. That would give him plenty of time to suss out the bad-apples of the group and maybe convince the good to stay behind.
They'd see.
The group quickly had the tents all set up and a fire pit dug out in the area Hershel's daughter Maggie pointed out to them, though there was a little discussion over where Harry was going to sleep. A discussion that Merle and Daryl shut down by telling the others he could bunk with them if he didn't have a tent or something stuffed away in that pack of his. Some of the others (Shane, Lori, Andrea…) were a little – okay a lot – uncomfortable about how close their newest member and only medic was getting with the two "dirty rednecks" but not one of them was either brave or stupid enough to say a word about it.
For all that Shane hated that little shit he was damned useful to have around, the same for the Dixons who did a damned good job of keeping everyone fed.
It stuck in his craw that the trio was quickly becoming the rock everyone else was anchored to – either them or Rick. Shane was the one who kept the group together and saved them time after time. Not Rick in his coma or the Dixons and Black who were relative outsiders to the group. Him. He just needed to wait it out. Soon enough something would happen and force the others to see things his way again.
Either that, or he'd have the opportunity to…eliminate some of the competition.
Come morning, Carl had made it through the night and over the first hurdle, much to everyone's relief. Harry had sat in the sick room all night long, dozing here and there and administering antibiotics and pain relievers every four or so hours. With a sigh, he climbed to his feet and went downstairs in search of the coffee that was tickling his nostrils.
The boy would make it, all he needed now was a final dose of antibiotics in another eight hours and to rest and recover.
Which was what he told the Greenes when they all asked at the sight of him, then getting him seated at the table with a mug of coffee and a plate of eggs and bacon before him.
"Hadrian Black." He said in reply to the quick round of introductions. "But most call me Harry."
"Harry then." The eldest of the women, Patricia, agreed with a soft smile.
Harry could easily see that these were good, kind, hard-working people. But they were soft still, he saw that just as clear. They'd need to toughen up some if they wanted to survive.
"So," Maggie asked, leaning forward eagerly with a mug of her own in her hands as they all rested a bit after morning chores and breakfast. "You're a doctor, Harry?"
"Was working on it." He gave a half-smile at the question. "Made it through the first year of medical school at UG Atlanta before going home for the summer…then the outbreak happened."
They all made hums or other noises of agreement.
"You've got mighty steady hands for only having one year in, son." Hershel complimented the younger man. "You did fine work up there, just fine."
"Thank you, Hershel." Harry nodded, taking the compliment calmly, with none of the bashful stuttering that would've occurred in his early teens…before the Veil. "You weren't a half-bad assistant yourself." He leaned over and craned his head to look out the window. "Speaking of doctoring, have you noticed if T-Dog is up yet? He has a nasty cut I've been keeping an eye on."
"They're all up and about." Jimmy piped in. "Setting up their camp some more and getting some food on. There was talk about making a run into the small town a couple miles up the road from here."
"Mmm." Harry hummed under his breath as he finished the last of his coffee. "Guess I should claim a spot for my bedroll then, it'll be a week or two yet before Carl's ready to move on."
The Greenes exchanged a few looks before Hershel spoke up.
"You're welcome to the couch in the other room, there, Harry." He said invitingly. "You need to be close to your patient and we wouldn't say no to your company either."
Harry arched a brow at the unexpected invitation. "I think I'll take you up on that, Hershel." He said with a half-smile. "Just the same I'll set my pack there and then head out to talk to my group, see what's what and give the good news to the anxious parents."
"One thing, Harry." Hershel said quietly, eyes focused on the pair of pistols holstered at the younger man's hips. "I'm not too comfortable with some of your group carrying. So I made a deal with Rick to ban them on the farm entirely. I hope you understand."
"No problem." Harry agreed easily enough. He was a lot deadlier with a wand or sword than he'd ever be with a gun anyway. "You don't mind the sword or knives, do you? These days I feel naked without them."
"No, son." Hershel chuckled at that. "I don't mind those at all."
"Well, then." Harry nodded and waved a hand before striding off to tuck his guns away in his pack and set it in an out-of-the-way area next to the sofa. It had an anti-theft and notice-me-not charm on it but he still didn't like to tempt fate. A quick cautionary glance was followed by an arm thrust deep inside the bag, bringing out his army-surplus mummy-bag he found in the barracks at the prison and carried for a time such as this. Laying it out on the sofa, he nodded in approval at the mundane sight, before turning and heading on outside to meet up with the others.
"Merle." Harry called out to the elder Dixon as he caught sight of the man keeping watch from the top of the RV. "What's happenin'?"
"The chink is getting sent out on a run to the town nearby." Merle told the athletic younger man after he'd easily scaled up to the RV roof. "The women are all cleaning the RV or doing laundry, lady chores." Merle sneered at that. If he was them he'd tell Queen Bitch Lori where to shove it when she started handing out marching papers. "Officer Friendly and Deputy Dog are patrolling the perimeter, they weren't sure when you'd let them back in to see the boy."
"T-Dog and Daryl?"
"Lil' brother went out to hunt, ain't sit right with either of us relyin' on these folk to feed us." Merle spat over the side of the RV with a scowl. Ungrateful pussies, takin' from the Greenes but not givin' back. "The darky is helpin' with the farm chores."
Harry snorted. "At least one of this lot knows how to act right."
Merle chuckled at that, finding it funny as hell that of all people, he agreed with an educated med-school Englishman. Who'd'a thunk it?
"Carol and Mama Darky were helpin' the farm girls with their chores before Queen Bitch started up her routine with Deputy Dog backing her up, Officer Friendly just lookin' lost as usual." Merle snorted. "Glad she ain't dumb enough – yet – to try that shit on me 'n' Daryl."
Harry sat back on his haunches, eyes tracking the treeline as he brought up a topic from before they met up with the group, on the way to the quarry.
"You give anymore thought to what you an' me talked about?"
The other man eyed him from his peripheral. "You mean takin' Daryl and headin' out?" Merle asked idly. "I thought your bleedin' heart wouldn't let you leave these kids all defenseless like."
"I'm still trying to make a decision." Harry let that hang out there. "Wanted to know what you and Daryl thought."
"Why us?"
"Well." Harry laughed drily. "From what I can tell neither of you ever left someone to die on a rooftop before. Y'all have a code. Which is more than what I can say for most of these sheeple."
"Sheeple." Merle snorted, loving that. "Ya got that a'righ'." He scratched at the scruff rapidly taking over his jaw. He was due for another shave. Merle couldn't stand the backwoods-beard for all that Lori and Shane kept calling him a dirty redneck. "Dunno." He decided. "Ya asked me at the CDC, I'd'a said none of them got what it takes to make it out here, 'cept maybe the chink. Even Mad Dog Shane doesn't know his ass from a hole in the ground anymore. But the longer we go along with 'em…" He shrugged. "I see flashes of things that make me think maybe a couple of the others might survive."
"Carol?" Harry suggested, having been surprised by her calm head more than once.
"Yep. Now that 'er husband ain't here to black her eye every other night." Merle grunted. "Blondie too, if she doesn't go off half-cocked."
Harry nodded, agreeing for the most part. "And Rick?"
"Officer Friendly." Merle snorted. "He's too busy tryin' to be the leader he ain't and ignoring that shit between his wife and his dog to step up. It'll take somethin' drastic to wake him up all the way. Half the time I think he left his fight in that hospital bed."
Daryl had come back packing a buck sometime while Harry was upstairs giving Carl his last round of antibiotics. The boy hadn't caught a fever and there was no sign of infection so Harry was cautiously optimistic that he wouldn't need any more drugs beyond some pain killers to take the edge off until he can start taking standard Tylenol.
Harry left the parents and the omnipresent Shane billing and cooing over Carl, shaking his head in disbelief. No matter what he would never understand people. Two days ago Rick and Shane were trying their best to rip each other apart with their bare hands over that woman, now because Carl is hurt they were going to all play house together? He shrugged, walking over and plopping down next to Daryl with a sigh as the other man worked on tanning the deer hide, the meat having been prepped and cut down, some of it smoking over the fire while he'd given the rest to the women – both the group and the Greenes – to cook up.
"Somethin' on your mind?" Daryl asked with a smirk as his blade made quick work of removing the left over fat and tissue from the hide he'd already stretched out, the brain of the animal mashed and waiting in a bowl at his feet.
Everyone else had scurried off, save Merle who was still smoking and keeping watch up on the RV, at the sight.
Now here was fancy-degree and rich-voiced Harry sitting down next to him and his – even he would admit – grisly work.
The things you find out about people just from payin' attention would never stop boggling Daryl's mind.
Though he supposed as a doctor-to-be, with cadavers an' all, Harry had seen his fair share of stomach-turning shit long before the dead started makin' meals of the livin'.
"That shit." Harry gestured toward the upper story of the farmhouse with a vague flap of his wrist. "I have no words to even begin with how fucked up that is."
Daryl snorted a laugh, blue eyes twinkling just a fraction at the younger man's exasperation.
"You an' me both, hoss." Daryl chuckled, scraping away a particularly tough piece of tendon before stepping back and eyeing the hide with approval before picking up the bowl of mashed brain and starting to smear the mixture on the flesh-side of the hide. "You an' me both."
Harry watched in fascination as Daryl set to work. He'd read the theory on tanning hides before, all part of the "studies" Pandora had suggested. But with all the stockpiling they'd done on the estate they weren't even close to needing to start doing so themselves. He supposed when it came time to slaughter some of the livestock in the next month or two they'd need to do it themselves just to keep from being wasteful, but watching Daryl do it…it drove home that for all their preparations there were still weak spots in their plans.
Firming his jaw, he decided that he was just going to work that much harder on making a decision about the people he was running with, and trying to convince those he chose to follow him.
Though if Shane kept up on his oh-so-wonderful downward spiral, there wouldn't be much convincing needed.
Not even Rick would be blind to that danger forever, he was just worried about how big of a push it would take to get the former Sheriff onboard with what the rest of them already knew.
Or if Rick would end up being more collateral damage via Hurricane Shane.
"Where'd you learn to do that?" Harry asked more to keep the conversation going than any real need. He could guess from what little he knew about the Dixons. But still…confirmation never hurt a body.
"Merle." Daryl said quietly, shooting a glance up at his watchful big brother. "Taught me most-a what I know. Huntin', trackin', shootin'. More of a Da to me than our own."
"Mmm." Harry nodded, pleased with his guess being right. "I thought it was somethin' like that."
"Like wha'?" Daryl narrowed his eyes suspiciously. He thought Harry was cool but if he was tryin' to talk shit 'bout his brother an' him he had no problem going a round with him.
Harry just gave him an enigmatic smile and tugged up his sleeve, flashing the scar from Voldy's resurrection at the suspicious hunter. "Remind me to tell you 'bout my own childhood sometime." Was all he had to say before he wandered off to talk to Rick about teaching more of the group how to defend themselves.
He'd seen Carol try and use a knife when they were at the CDC and it was just pitiful and in need of serious correction.
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All Credit Due to: Sifsshadowheart