Changing To Adapt ➵ TWD

➵ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴᴛʏ

"They're getting harder to deal with." Lucas is leant against the car, arms crossed, eyeing the pile-up of walkers at the fences.

Beside him, Rick rests his elbows on the hood, hunching over a map splayed out with rocks to keep it down. He hums in agreement, and turns around to look.

Lucas picks at his dry bottom lip in thought. "The guy that gave us some of his armoury. . ."

"Morgan." Rick nods, hands on his hips.

"Yeah. He had that set-up out front, with all the spikes and traps 'n shit. What if we do that around the front gate? Block 'em from the sides or somethin'." Lucas twists around to lean over the hood, dragging his finger across the portion of the map he was talking about.

Sweat dripping into his eyes, Rick squints, "Tha's a good idea." He picks up the pencil and sketches in the details. "We need more wood anyway, I'm starting on a new project."

Lucas feels a thrum of satisfaction dart through him.

Lifting a brow, his curiosity overruns him and he ducks his head to see Rick's face. "Do tell."

Rick stands up straight again and watches a few folks meander throughout the field. "There was a girl Daryl brought in last week, she told us she seen some pigs, still untouched. Gonna go check it out tomorrow."

Lucas jolts off the car. "You're telling me we could have bacon again?"

"If she was telling the truth." Rick glances at him, and then smiles toothily, eyes shining. "Yeah."

The laugh Lucas lets out is unexpected for both of them, a blend of shock and excitement. He shakes his head, "So you wanna build a pig pen?" He could imagine it, right there next to the growing vegetables.

"I do. Gon' get Carl to help out, I don't think he should be on the fence anymore."

Lucas looks at him, really looks, and slowly nods. "You want him away from all that?"

"We've got a new life now. What he did," Rick thumbs at his eye, shaking his head. "It ain't him. I can't let him become. . . desensitized." He finally abandons the map now that he's distracted, and turns to join Lucas against the car, leaning his hip against it.

Pressing his tongue into his cheek, Lucas crosses his arms. What Hershel told them had scared him. Carl's still a kid, not a stone-cold killer. Those two things didn't seem to match.

Rick starts folding the map back into a small square. He's got his next projects scribbled down, it'll keep him busy for the next couple of weeks.

Changing the subject, he looks down at Lucas. "You were right about Rachel. She agreed to start holdin' lessons for the kids." He pockets the map, "I know you ain't one anymore, but she said if you wanted to go back over anythin', she'd be glad to."

Lucas scoffs, "I'm good, man. I'd rather shoot myself than go back to school."

Rick sends him a look of disapproval.

"Not literally, chill."

Horses followed the pigs a few days later. With a comment that sounded suspiciously like "ain't riskin' 'nother Nelly" Daryl had walked away, leaving Lucas choking on his breakfast through laughter.

Michonne had taken a liking to them, and now, almost six weeks after taking in the strays, she takes a horse out every day, still searching for the Governor. Daryl had been doing the same for a while, but when his efforts left him picking up more survivors than anything, he kept his focus on what was more useful.