Scraping By, Chapter 6: Pack It In
Title: Scraping By
Fandom: The Walking Dead
Rating: M
Disclaimer: All rights for The Walking Dead go to Robert Kirkman and AMC. This story takes place strictly in the TV show 'verse.
Chapter 6: Pack It In
Andrea tied down the last of the tents to the roof of T-Dog's Explorer and wiped the sweat off her brow with a steady hand. It was still predawn but everyone was wide awake. Rick laid out a driving shift for each vehicle and had everyone paying close attention to him.
Whitney, on the other hand, had fallen asleep in the cab of Daryl's truck once she finished sorting, folding, and packing the laundry she and Carol worked on all day. Her fingers were still pruned from being in the water almost constantly and she had a sunburn peeling on her nose.
While the others started getting into their respective vehicles, Andrea and Dale puzzled about Daryl. He caught sight of the woman inside his truck and looked thrown for a loop-uncertain about what to do with her in there. The older man climbed into the RV and practically dragged Andrea in after him.
"Okay, what's going on there?" he asked.
Andrea sat down in the passenger seat and shrugged. "I don't really know. She had a nightmare last night and couldn't go back to sleep."
"I heard 'em on the roof. Whitney told him what happened to her and got him to explain a little about Merle… Apparently, he had no idea his brother was using. Well, again, at least."
Andrea checked the side mirror and watched Daryl step up into his truck. He glanced at the woman who'd claimed the passenger seat and warily started the engine.
Carol, Lori, Rick, and the kids climbed into the RV and Dale signaled that their conversation was on pause for the moment. He concentrated on driving out of the small ranch and back onto the highway. Carol caught Andrea's curious glance in the side mirror and smirked. She'd have to talk with Andrea about her own conversation with Whitney.
In the back of the caravan, Daryl drove with one hand on the steering wheel and the other fiddled with his beard. He was trying to keep from chewing his nails.
Five minutes down the road, the silence was unexpectedly broken by Whitney-who had been awake almost the entire time.
"You said you didn't tell your brother about your job. What did he think you did for work?" she asked.
Daryl stiffened, fully prepared to get angry at her for bringing up Merle, but realized that she was asking out of curiosity about him. Much like that first afternoon talking with her, Daryl realized that Whitney might actually give a rat's ass about who he was. He still wasn't used to the inclusion in socializing.
"I told him I got a job in Dublin as a butcher. End of."
She reached down by her feet and rubbed Zeke's back. He snuffled and sleepily wagged his tail. "How'd you learn ta' cook in the first place?" she asked.
Daryl looked away from the Explorer's bumper and tried to find what Whitney was getting at by staring her in the eye.
She seemed to find the kernel of anguish in his eyes and looked down at her hands. "I'm sorry. It ain't my business," she said.
He was sorely tempted to snap at her, but recalled how she kept him from losing it the night before. She was just making conversation and he wasn't used to the scrutiny. Daryl sighed and returned his attention to the road ahead. "My uncle couldn't make fuckin' toast to save his life and Merle weren't no better than 'im. I hung out with my cousin Jenny after church on Sundays an' she'd make me man the grill durin' lunch. I just got into the habit of cookin' after that…"
He shrugged. "I like cookin'. Nobody'd hang out in the kitchen so I didn't have'ta deal with the shit Merle or my uncle were doin'."
Whitney nodded and almost bit down on her tongue to keep from asking him what happened to his mother and father. They were quiet for a little while until Daryl caught movement ahead in the road. Whitney saw what he was looking at and pulled a face.
There was a walker in the road chowing down on some poor asshole's guts.
"That's just nasty," she groused. After another moment of watching the thing eat as they drove closer, Whitney nudged Daryl's elbow. "Pull a little to the right," she said.
He did as she asked. It took him a few seconds to realize what she was up to, but everything became crystal clear when he saw her hand tighten around the door handle. Just as the truck passed the undead bastard in the middle of the road, Whitney whipped the door open as hard as she could and slammed the metal against the walker's head.
They heard a plaintive groan mixed in with something that reminded Daryl of a cantaloupe splitting open, and then a wet splat against the pavement. Whitney slammed the door shut and Zeke started barking-irritated that all of this noise roused him from whatever it was that dogs dream about. Together, Whitney and Daryl looked at the corpse in the rearview mirror as they drove away. It didn't get back up.
Whitney smirked. "Twenty points. You're up next, Dixon."
Daryl came close to laughing out loud for the first time in years.
Chapter 5: Discourse | ...
Fandom: The Walking Dead
Rating: M
Disclaimer: All rights for The Walking Dead go to Robert Kirkman and AMC. This story takes place strictly in the TV show 'verse.
Chapter 6: Pack It In
Andrea tied down the last of the tents to the roof of T-Dog's Explorer and wiped the sweat off her brow with a steady hand. It was still predawn but everyone was wide awake. Rick laid out a driving shift for each vehicle and had everyone paying close attention to him.
Whitney, on the other hand, had fallen asleep in the cab of Daryl's truck once she finished sorting, folding, and packing the laundry she and Carol worked on all day. Her fingers were still pruned from being in the water almost constantly and she had a sunburn peeling on her nose.
While the others started getting into their respective vehicles, Andrea and Dale puzzled about Daryl. He caught sight of the woman inside his truck and looked thrown for a loop-uncertain about what to do with her in there. The older man climbed into the RV and practically dragged Andrea in after him.
"Okay, what's going on there?" he asked.
Andrea sat down in the passenger seat and shrugged. "I don't really know. She had a nightmare last night and couldn't go back to sleep."
"I heard 'em on the roof. Whitney told him what happened to her and got him to explain a little about Merle… Apparently, he had no idea his brother was using. Well, again, at least."
Andrea checked the side mirror and watched Daryl step up into his truck. He glanced at the woman who'd claimed the passenger seat and warily started the engine.
Carol, Lori, Rick, and the kids climbed into the RV and Dale signaled that their conversation was on pause for the moment. He concentrated on driving out of the small ranch and back onto the highway. Carol caught Andrea's curious glance in the side mirror and smirked. She'd have to talk with Andrea about her own conversation with Whitney.
In the back of the caravan, Daryl drove with one hand on the steering wheel and the other fiddled with his beard. He was trying to keep from chewing his nails.
Five minutes down the road, the silence was unexpectedly broken by Whitney-who had been awake almost the entire time.
"You said you didn't tell your brother about your job. What did he think you did for work?" she asked.
Daryl stiffened, fully prepared to get angry at her for bringing up Merle, but realized that she was asking out of curiosity about him. Much like that first afternoon talking with her, Daryl realized that Whitney might actually give a rat's ass about who he was. He still wasn't used to the inclusion in socializing.
"I told him I got a job in Dublin as a butcher. End of."
She reached down by her feet and rubbed Zeke's back. He snuffled and sleepily wagged his tail. "How'd you learn ta' cook in the first place?" she asked.
Daryl looked away from the Explorer's bumper and tried to find what Whitney was getting at by staring her in the eye.
She seemed to find the kernel of anguish in his eyes and looked down at her hands. "I'm sorry. It ain't my business," she said.
He was sorely tempted to snap at her, but recalled how she kept him from losing it the night before. She was just making conversation and he wasn't used to the scrutiny. Daryl sighed and returned his attention to the road ahead. "My uncle couldn't make fuckin' toast to save his life and Merle weren't no better than 'im. I hung out with my cousin Jenny after church on Sundays an' she'd make me man the grill durin' lunch. I just got into the habit of cookin' after that…"
He shrugged. "I like cookin'. Nobody'd hang out in the kitchen so I didn't have'ta deal with the shit Merle or my uncle were doin'."
Whitney nodded and almost bit down on her tongue to keep from asking him what happened to his mother and father. They were quiet for a little while until Daryl caught movement ahead in the road. Whitney saw what he was looking at and pulled a face.
There was a walker in the road chowing down on some poor asshole's guts.
"That's just nasty," she groused. After another moment of watching the thing eat as they drove closer, Whitney nudged Daryl's elbow. "Pull a little to the right," she said.
He did as she asked. It took him a few seconds to realize what she was up to, but everything became crystal clear when he saw her hand tighten around the door handle. Just as the truck passed the undead bastard in the middle of the road, Whitney whipped the door open as hard as she could and slammed the metal against the walker's head.
They heard a plaintive groan mixed in with something that reminded Daryl of a cantaloupe splitting open, and then a wet splat against the pavement. Whitney slammed the door shut and Zeke started barking-irritated that all of this noise roused him from whatever it was that dogs dream about. Together, Whitney and Daryl looked at the corpse in the rearview mirror as they drove away. It didn't get back up.
Whitney smirked. "Twenty points. You're up next, Dixon."
Daryl came close to laughing out loud for the first time in years.
Chapter 5: Discourse | ...