Guts || TWD

19. Judge.

The Greene's Kitchen, very early in the morning...

Tucker Adams was an observant boy, he'd spent most of his life on his parents' backburner. His sister was smart, she got into a prestigious program in college. Tucker was simply average, he was good at sports sure, and had a fair amount of street smarts but in the end?

Street smarts doesn't get you where you need to be in the world.

At least, they didn't use to...

So as Tucker sat at the table every morning eating eggs with people he never would've pictured himself with. He found himself thinking a lot about this new world they were living in and what the future could possibly mean for him and his family.

This very morning, if you could really call it that, Tucker sat by himself at the large wooden table. A half-drank glass of water in front of him and a lot on his mind. He hadn't really slept at all the night before so finally getting sick of tossing and turning he crept out of the tent quietly. Leaving his sleeping mother all bundled away in her sleeping bag.

It was so early the sun had hardly risen yet, the dew was wet upon the Earth and for once since this entire thing started, Tucker Adams had a sweatshirt on. He pulled the black material over his body, leaving the hood hiding some of his face as he pushed open the front door of the farmhouse.

He didn't even think about the way the farmhouse felt as of late when he sat down at the table. That's just what they did in the morning, whoever got up the earliest would help Patricia and Herschel make breakfast. Whoever got up the latest did the dishes and helped around the house.

"You're up early," Patricia whispered, the steps creaking softly. Tucker's eyes shot up to the woman, she had startled him.

"Sorry, I'll go... Herschel probably doesn't want us in here after yesterday." The blonde admitted, standing up from the table and pushing the hood off his head. "I didn't even really think about it," His voice was soft.

"Herschel ain't back yet baby, you can stay," Patricia spoke softly, she had a real soft spot for kids that reminded her of her baby sister. Tucker and Elle held a strange semblance to her. With their blonde hair, big blue eyes, and god-awful attitude. Patricia loved them, she loved her sister more and did all she could to hold on to her memory.

"It's alright ma'am, I can go get started on the farm chores."

"Nonsense, we've got some time, why don't we make some apple turnovers for breakfast?" Patricia started, pulling out the basket of apples that had been picked yesterday morning. Tucker nodded and patiently waited for instructions.

"Preheat the oven to 450°, then peel those apples and core them. Chopp'em up real good and throw them in a saucepan. Medium heat, little cinnamon, milk, and sugar." Patricia instructed while she began pouring all the pastry dough ingredients into a mixing bowl.