"What's the difference between men and women?"

"This a joke?"

"No, I'm serious."

"I never met a woman who knew how to turn off a light. They're both thinking the switch only goes one way – on."

Such was a typical conversation between Rick Grimes and Shane Walsh, best friends and partners for the King's County police department. As the two sat in their parked police cruiser, munching on burgers and fries that Shane had gladly picked up earlier, neither of the two paid much attention to the quiet scanner.

"They're struck blind the second they leave a room. I mean every woman I ever let have a key – I swear to God, it's like I come home, house all lit up," Shane remarked, quietly chuckling to himself. While Rick grabbed more french fries from the bag, his partner absent mindedly, but rigidly, touched the #22 necklace he wore daily as a reminder of his high school football days.

"And my job, you see, apparently – because my chromosomes happen to be different – is I then gotta walk through that house, turn off every single light this chick left on."

"Is that right?" Rick asked, savoring the taste of the french fries while his partner spoke about nonsense. Though the clean-shaven Sherrif's Deputy wouldn't quite admit, his focus was more on the french fries than Shane's typical women rant.

"Yeah, baby. Mmm. Oh, Reverend Shane's a-preaching to ya now, boy."

Both men reared their heads back and laughed, enjoying the other's presence on what was an otherwise boring day.

"Then – the same chick mind you she'll bitch about global warming," Shane continued, clearly enjoying where this conversation was headed. The charming smirk that Rick had been used to seeing on Shane face for years quickly appeared on the other man's features.

"You see, this is – this is when Reverend Shane wants to quote from the Guy Gospel and say, 'Um, darling, maybe you and every other pair of boobs on this planet just figure out the light switch, you see, goes both ways maybe we wouldn't have so much global warming.'"

"You say that?" Rick asked in disbelief.

"Mmm. Yeah, well, a polite version," Shane snickered to himself. "Still, man that, that earns me this look of loathing you would not believe. And that's when the Exorcist voice pops out. 'You sound just like my damn father!' Always—always yelling about the power bill, telling me to turn off the damn lights!"

Rick fought off a smile. "And what do you say to that?"

Shane, on the other hand, let his smile visibly grow to massive proportions. "I know what I want to say. I want to say, "Bitch, you mean to tell me you've been hearing this your entire life and you are still too damn stupid to learn how to turn off a switch?"

Both men exploded in laughter, dropping the crisp, yellow fries to the floor of the cop car.

"Well. So how's it with Lori, man?"

"She's good. She's good at turning off lights," remarked Rick, slightly reddening at the sudden change of topic. Inside, Rick had a feeling that the conversation would eventually shift to the

beautiful, but often unfair, wife of his. "Really good. I'm the one who sometimes forgets."

"Not what I meant," Shane replied, hoping he wouldn't have to push Rick to get the answers out of him. Both Georgia born men knew how annoying Shane could get when he wanted something, hence was part of the reason he was so successful with women.

Rick sighed, pushing his hand through his chestnut-colored hair. Like it or not, Shane was probably the cop's best option of letting his feelings out. "We didn't have a great night."

"Hey look, man, I may have failed to amuse with my sermon, but I did try," Shane said, smirking. "The least you can do is is speak!"

Unbeknownst to Shane, that was exactly what was so heavy on his best friend's mind. "That's - that's what she always says. 'Speak. Speak.' You'd think I was the most closed-mouthed son of a bitch ever to hear her tell it," Rick muttered angrily, not noticing his knuckles turning a light shade of blue.

Shane mockingly placed his hand underneath his chin, almost as if to show he was deep in thought. "Well, Rick, do you express your thoughts? Do you share your feelings, that kind of stuff?

"Thing is lately, whenever I try, everything I say makes her impatient, like she didn't want to hear it after all." Rick sighed, his eyes gravitating to the clear sky above. "It's like she's pissed at me all the time and I don't know why."

"Look, man. That's just shit couples go through," Shane remarked, tightly clasping his hand on Rick's shoulder. "Yeah, it's a phase."

Rick continued to frown, troubled by his relationship problems. Rick Grimes wasn't a perfect man - he'd never met someone who was, either - but even he knew his wife's expectations of him as a husband, and a father, were insanely unrealistic. "It's the last thing she said this morning that set me off. She...she tells me 'Sometimes I wonder if you even care about us at all.' She said that in front of our kid."

Poor kid, Shane thought, knowing all too well how tough it could be for children seeing their parents fight. Off the top of his head, Shane could recount multiple times within the past two months alone where he'd been called into a domestic abuse situation and seen a small child watching it all with wide, hurt, eyes.

"Imagine going to school with that in your head. The difference between men and women? I would never say something that cruel to her and certainly not in front of Carl," Rick admitted, fighting the urge to let tears stream out of his cerulean eyes.

Before Shane had a chance to reply, the sound of the radio beeping drew the attention of both officers:

"All available units, high-speed pursuit in progress. Linden County units request local assistance. Highway 18 eastbound. GTA, ADW, 2-17, 2-4-3. Advise extreme caution."

"Advise extreme caution? We out," Shane exclaimed, slam dunking the bag of their meal into a nearby trash can. Having earned a 'nod of approval' from his longtime partner, Rick put his foot on the gas pedal like his life depended on it, tires squealing loudly as the two prepared to apprehend the foolish criminals.


"Suspects are two male Caucasians. Be advised they have fired upon police officers. One Linden County officer is wounded," the King County dispatcher's voice loudly sounded, even with Shane and Rick both outside of the car laying a spike strip down. "Unit 1, unit 3, to eastbound Route 18, two miles west of Interstate 85. Will patch in Linden County Sheriff radio."

"Roger that. We're five minutes south of the Route 18 intersection," another voice said, this time as the two officers reversed their car into a blocking position. "10-9 we just got word from Linden County that they're off 18, now southbound."

"This'll be fun," Shane said, taking off the ballcap he was accustomed to donning when on duty. Even with Shane's joking tone, it was unclear to Rick who his partner was directing the statement towards - himself, or Rick.

Lam Kendal, one of the older cops that Shane and Rick knew, kneeled and cocked his gun, positioning himself next to Rick and Shane with a frown on his heavy face. "Sounds like they chasing those idiots up and down every back road we've got."

"Maybe we'll get on one of them video shows, you know?" Deputy Leon Bassett, a mustached man, hopefully stated. It was a common dream in small areas like King's County to earn fame and glory, although officers like Bassett may have taken that wish too seriously. "Like 'World's Scariest Police Chases.' What do you think?

"What I think, Leon," Rick replied, currently wanting to hear none of Bassett's stupidity, "is you need to stay focused. Make sure you've got a round in the chamber and your safety off."

With the sounds of sirens getting closer, Leon mumbled something under his breath - presumably a curse or two directed at Rick - and cocked his gun. "Would be kinda cool, getting on one of them shows," Shane admitted, thinking of the women flocking to him solely because they saw him on television. Considering how many women wanted to be with Shane because of his role in law enforcement, not to mention his muscular frame, perhaps it wasn't as ridiculous a dream as it sounded.

Rick shook his head, pretending he hadn't heard Shane's nonsense. The sound of police sirens in the distance could be heard growing closer, causing Rick to quickly grab his Colt Python pistol. Let's get this son of a bitch and go home, Rick thought to himself.

The car that they'd all been hearing so much about, a silver Buick GTO, came into view accelerating at top speed. Behind the two door car were two Linden County police cars, both in high pursuit of the criminals.

Whoever the law offenders were, they were damn good at driving. Shane wasn't going to say anything out loud about it, but he was impressed at the way these drivers could handle themselves against Linden County officers, some of whom were notorious for their driving skills.

Alas, all good things must come to an end. The muscle car was oblivious to the spikes on the ground below, and continued to accelerate in hopes they could get past the cops. Not seeing the trap, the Buick blew its tires along on the spikes, then started a loud skidding along the barren road.

Rick thought he could hear the screams from the criminals, although he wasn't sure; the car then flipped end over end, a horrific sight for the on duty officers. The Linden County police cars, seeing the Buick's accident, sharply applied the brakes, causing both cars to stop short.

The Buick, however, wasn't as lucky. It's engine sputtering, the car rolled to a stop in the nearest field, toppled over and in no shape to drive. Smoke started rising from the engine, and the hard part, the chase, was over.

With silence across the area, Shane said the one thing that could properly describe the situation:

"Holy shit."

"Keep an eye on that car," Rick ordered, maintaining his aim on the crashed car. The Buick was in awful shape, but there was no telling yet if anyone survived the accident. "Dispatch said there were two guys in there, and we don't know if the accident took 'em out. Slowly, walk over, but don't run. Anything that's not slow walking could alert them."

Not even five steps into their trek, something moved from the car. "Gun! Gun!" Leon yelled, alerting the officers who had yet to see the first criminal draw his SIG-Sauer P228 pistol. An older, Hispanic, wild-haired man had crawled out of the broken vehicle and drew his weapon, ready to take revenge on the police who had interfered with his crew.

BANG! BANG! Numerous shots came their way, all courtesy of the shooter in question. As he squared his Colt Python with the criminal, Rick bit his lip. The officers had to stop the offenders before someone was hurt...or killed. "Put it down! Put the gun down!"

BANG! A gunshot, aimed for one of the on duty officers, quickly shattered the back window on Rick and Shane's cruiser. "You're gonna owe us the repairs on that, asshole!" Shane remarked, raising his Mossberg shotgun and firing a couple shots at the crazy-haired man.

Despite the distance, Shane could still hear their target yell something, or was it laughter? Whatever it was, just the audacity of the criminal was enough to piss Shane off. When another shot hit Shane's car, this time blowing part of the windshield away, multiple officers fired their weapons at once.

Rick's Python was the gun that did the job, nailing the criminal in his chest and blowing him to the ground. As the Linden County officers stared at the downed shooter, relieved that he'd been taken care of, the King's County officers gave their attention to Rick.

"Woo! Way to go, Rick!" Shane complimented, impressed with his partner's shot. "Got that son of a bitch!"

Rick breathed heavily, the fact he had just taken a life still hitting him. This wasn't the first time Rick Grimes had been forced to end a criminal's life, but it didn't change the fact that it was still a tough feeling to get used to. They were bad people, sure, but they were people. "Wait, didn't dispatch say there were two?"

BANG! BANG!

The second criminal, while Rick and Shane were talking, had raised a shotgun of his own and fired it at the cruiser protecting Leon and Lam. Shells rained on the car, nearly hitting both officers. Wearing a grey cap, the man had blood splattered across from his jaw, presumably from the recent accident.

"That's the driver!" one of the Linden County officers exclaimed, avoiding a shotgun pellet. "Get the driver!"

Suddenly, Linden County's finest recoiled, a bullet having hit him in the vest. "I'm gettin' tired of these assholes," remarked Shane, cocking his shotgun and shooting at the hat-wearing criminal. "Tryna' kill us, huh? You ain't taking any lives today, motherfucker!"

Whoever this man was, he was making a major mistake fighting several armed, veteran officers of the law. Officer Kendal, not normally known for his firearms precision, landed a clear shot into the man's shoulder, then to his knee. "That should put him outta commission," Lam told the others, watching the shooter lay still on the ground, blood seeping onto the green grass.

"Hey, we good, we're good," Shane said, setting down his shotgun on the hood of a cop car. "Lam, what ya think we should do with that guy? Damn, you got him good. Mighta' made it so he won't be walking."

"Give it a couple minutes," Leon advised, turning away from the scene. The mustached cop was grateful that no one had been injured, or even killed, today. Leon had seen too many police wounded in action recently, and he'd be damned if he let one more get hurt. "Between the car crash and the gun shots, there's no way anyone could survive something like-"

BANG!

"What the?" Shane started to say, before he felt an unfamiliar pain enter him. It was a pain that sheer words could not express, but Shane knew exactly what it was from - a gunshot.

Unknown to the officers, who believed that today's events were all but over, a third criminal had crawled out of the toppled car. Whoever was on dispatch had messed up; there weren't two criminals in the car, but three. The third was a younger man, attired in a sleeveless shirt and a bandanna, who'd raised his 45 caliber pistol and aimed at Shane.

Oblivious to the fact there was another criminal even alive, Shane had let his guard down and had taken his eyes off of the birdie. As a result, the hidden shooter was able to aim for Shane's cranium, although the shot missed and instead landed in his shoulder. Doesn't matter to me, the criminal told himself. If he got a vest, it's not gonna work there.

As the bullet passed through Shane's shoulder, it did indeed miss his vest. Regardless, not hitting the vest was enough to sap Shane of his energy, and bring the man to his knees.

"SHANE!" Rick screamed, diving to the ground below to help his partner. Crimson blood, a sight Rick loathed seeing, had already started seeping through Shane's cream colored police jacket. Rick couldn't let Shane die, not after all that they'd been through. The two were brothers after all, and brothers didn't let one another die. The remaining officers all shot at once, ripping the third criminal's internal organs to shreds.

"Rick, how's he doing!" Lam asked, worried for the health of his fellow officer. Like Leon, Lam wasn't in the mood to see a police die, especially one as good as Shane Walsh.

Much to Rick's anger and horror, Shane's pale skin was quickly lightening by the second. "No No no no no no no. Shh shh shh shh. No no no no no no no no. He's hit!" Rick cried, loudly. "Leon! You get that ambulance down here! You tell them there's an officer down!"

Leon looked over at his fellow officers, worry spreading on his face. "Uh, alright. Just gimme a-"

"You do it now!" ordered Rick, loud enough to the point where Leon quickly scurried over to his own squad car. If not for how dire the situation was, perhaps Rick would've chuckled at the waddling of the sweating officer.

"Okay, shh shh shh shh. I'm here. Hey, you look at me," Rick told Shane, knowing inside that his best friend wouldn't be able to give much of a response. "You stay with me. You hear me? Shh shh shh. Okay. I'm right here, Shane. Stay with me. You hear me? Shh shh. That's it. Do you hear me? Shh shh shh. Okay. I'm right here with you. Stay with me."

"Dispatch, we have an officer down," Leon yelled into the radio, keeping an eye on the fallen Shane. "Request paramedics please respond. Highway 18 four miles west of I-85. Repeat, officer down. Request immediate response."

"Shh, that's it, I'm right here," Rick whispered, holding his head close to Shane's. "I'm right here buddy. I'm right here…"


"Hey bud. We're still here. We're still hanging in...ah, I'm sorry, man. I know I say the same crap every time I come in here, but you know how it is," Rick said, sadly sighing to himself at the silence he received. It had been like this for over a week now, and it was starting to drain on Rick. The two were not just friends and partners, but brothers to the point where Rick really was the only family Shane had left.

After a brief pause, the sheriff's deputy reached behind his back and pulled out a bouquet of flowers. "Everybody pitched in on these. They uh, they wanted me to bring 'em down. They send their love, and they just – they hope you come back real soon. We all miss you, man. Lori, well, she felt awful when she heard the news and she wants you to get better. Carl sends his best too; he keeps asking when he'll be able to see Uncle Shane!"

Rick paused to chuckle, although the slight display of happiness quickly disappeared. The only noise in the room other than Rick's breathing was the sound of Shane's machine, desperately fighting to keep the police officer alive. "I'm gonna set these flowers on this side table, man. I'll, uh, I'll see you soon."


"Hah, you tell Carl that uncle Shane'll be home real soon," Shane replied, emphasizing the last part of that statement. As the officer's eyes slowly fluttered open, he took note of his surroundings - a quiet, empty, hospital room.

"Huh, guess that gun shot got me pretty good if it was enough to land me here," murmured Shane, feeling the pull of an IV and the presence of a cannula in his nose once he moved to get up from the bed. Much to the man's confusion, his partner was nowhere to be found despite just speaking to him.

"Damn. Hey, Rick, you pissing in the john or what?" Shane called, but didn't get a response. The silence of the room, along with Rick's absence, was contributing to the vibe of the room becoming more eerie by the second.

"What the hell is this?" Shane asked himself, straining to get up from the bed. While this hadn't been the first time Shane had ended up in Harrison Memorial Hospital - being an officer of the law meant an occasional visit to get patched up or to visit an injured colleague - there was something much more different about this visit.

The clock on the wall was stopped at 2:17:37, with seemingly no plans on continuing the cycle of time. Shane had his suspicions that the clock hadn't stopped recently though, as it looked to be late morning outside of his hospital room.

Speaking of outside, what really perplexed Shane was the silence. Harrison Memorial Hospital was not only right off a main road, but it was a hospital. When were hospitals ever silent? The quietest Shane had ever heard a hospital was in the middle of a peaceful fall night, but on what he assumed to be a midsummer day? It should've been loud as all hell, with the young complaining about their next meal or turning up the air conditioning, while the elderly called out for aides and days gone by.

It was almost as if the world had stopped entirely, like something out of a horror movie. Rolling over to the left side of his bed, Shane finally noticed the flowers Rick had brought him...but instead of the vibrant and fresh state they'd been in upon delivery, they had died out, reduced to a dry shell of what they once were.

Didn't Rick just drop these off? Shit, maybe I've been asleep longer than I thought I was, Shane wondered to himself, his blood running cold once the memories of the shootout returned. The feeling of a bullet just missing his jugular, then going straight through his shoulder, was one Shane Walsh never wanted to relive again; that, and the feeling of uselessness as he lay on the ground quickly falling unconscious. I still can't believe I let myself nearly get killed. I hope Rick took those fuckers out though, nice and slow.

Grunting, Shane quickly shook his head, making somewhat of an attempt to forget about that fateful day. For now, Shane just wanted to get the hell out of Harrison Memorial and go home, crack open a beer, and see if the Atlanta Falcons were on. "Nurse!" the officer yelled, holding out some sort of hope he'd have the beautiful Patty Taylor as his nurse.

Sometimes, I kinda regret not makin' more of a move on her and taking things seriously, but that's the kinda shit that happens once high school ends, Snane reminisced, slowly smiling at the thought of his blonde haired ex girlfriend. Currently, the dark haired man would have to worry about getting the hell out of here, which seemed to be trouble with a nurse nowhere in sight. "Hello? Nurse, mind giving me a hand?"

Again, no response. "What the fuck?" Shane angrily asked, more so to himself than the nurse, or lack thereof. Trying again to make his way off the bed, the dark haired cop ended up falling off the bed onto the cold floor below.

"Nurse! Nurse, help me!" Shane yelled at the top of his lungs, dragging himself to his feet. If no one was going to help him, then Shane would just have to do things on his own for the time being.

"I gotta find Rick, and find out what the fuck is goin' on," the injured officer told himself, making his way to the bathroom. "There's something so wrong about all of this...I bet Rick'll know what happened."

Shane Walsh rarely felt any sort of fear, but the distress coursing through the officer's veins was completely justified. As the brave officer walked for the first time in, well he had no idea how long, Shane slowly prepared for whatever was to come.

Thanks for checking out Fight To Survive. In case you haven't figured it out yet, this is a Walking Dead AU where Shane was shot in the pilot rather than Rick, and it was Shane that ended up in the hospital. I'm really excited about writing this, and season 5 has only helped this desire to publish this grow.

I won't try to bore you with too long of an author's note, but I hope you'll stick around and read this. There's a lot of characters I'm excited to work with, including some who the show either mishandled or didn't give them enough of a backstory. That's all from me, and I'll see you guys soon with chapter two.

FP