『113』

416 40 23
                                    

"And right over here, we got our surgery room," Pete continues to describe the infirmary.

"You do surgeries here?" I question.

"If we had the right tools.. Haven't been able to since we got here, though."

"And.. you.. do surgeries?" I repeat, emphasizing on him.

"I was a surgeon before all this went down."

I nod, pursing my lips. I put my hands in my back pockets and look around the room. 

The house was fairly small. But, it was arguably in better shape than anything we have had recently.

The cloths were actually clean. The medication was organized. It'd been a long, long time since I saw medical supplies so put together- if ever since the world fell.

A twinge of nostalgia rushes through my veins as I think about how much easier a setup like this would've been for Hershel.

I sigh to myself at the memories, but shove aside the pain.

I continue looking over the supplies. I chuckle to myself at the sight of a whiskey bottle- figuring we still had to use what was available when sterilization wasn't handy.

--

"You know, now that I've showered, you smell worse than usual," I tell Daryl.

He scoffs. "You and Carol both on my ass."

"Just cause these people might be temporary doesn't mean you can't take a shower. Hell, I didn't even recognize Rick at first."

"He said you socked him in the hallway."

"He was standing outside the bathroom looking like some kind of James Dean-Peeping Tom, I didn't know who the hell was outside that door."

Woojin picks up a rock from the road. "Ahjussi, here!"

Daryl takes the rock from Woojin without question. Woojin cheers and returns to his little hops as he looks at the street.

"What was the deal with you teaching Woojin shit?" I wonder, a teasing smile gracing my lips.

Daryl chuckles. "He's my arrow getter."

"Arrow?" Woojin repeats, his head perking as he looks around.

"Clear," Daryl assures and Woojin returns to looking for pretty rocks.

"Jesus," I sigh to myself, shaking my head.

"Back at the prison, you were having a hard time teaching him to walk. You know he can run now, right?"

"Yeah, and he won't stop."

I think back over Beth and I talking about the things Daryl taught Woojin in their time together after the prison.

"He won't sit in a stroller or a high chair," I admit to Daryl. "He thinks it's a trap. Dangerous."

Daryl frowns a bit. "Yeah.. we had to hide in a trunk from a herd and he's been saying 'trap' ever since.. I'm sorry."

"No, it's not on you," I assure. "It just sucks that he thinks normal things are dangerous traps."

Daryl props his elbow on my shoulder as we walk- the closest thing to comfort one could get out of him. 

"I guess I'm just struggling to figure out how to do this. Raising the kids, I mean."

"You were doing pretty damn good at the prison, even if Judith was eating chalk," he jokes. "You're still good for them. It's just a change of scenery."

traded my life [TWD]Where stories live. Discover now