Here are some Rick feels.
I have a lot of Rick feels.
Because Rick, okay.
Also Carol.
I disclaim the Rick and the Carol.
And the TWD.
Enjoy the feels!
He was relieved to see her.
God knew they'd lost so many so far.
Too many.
He was relieved to see her because she was a part of them, and he was relieved to see her because he knew the man huddled awkwardly at the edge of the cell door wasn't the same without her.
Rick heard her voice, questioning, the edge of panic in it.
One question. The most important to her.
"Where's Daryl?"
The memory of his friend wandering farther and farther from them, trekking solemnly through the woods behind his brother slammed into his brain. So did the image of Maggie and Carl emerging into the yard with Judith in tow, covered in blood and no Lori to be found.
So did the image of the bloated Walker that devoured her body, the strand of her beautiful hair dangling from its wretched, reeking mouth.
And then he was in front of her, a hand on her shoulder, telling her what had happened and Carol's face froze and fell and her eyes darted to his, shocked, stunned, hurt….
And she was holding him, holding his face, whispering apologies he didn't need or want but he took them anyway, took it all, because he hurt, God he hurt, and he needed someone to touch him, remind him that he was real, that the world was real, that his baby was real, and he couldn't just give in and die.
No matter how much he wanted to.
She jerked from him, devastated. Tears prickled her pretty blue eyes.
He grimaced at the pain on her face and something ached in his gut, and his feet flew as he twisted around, reached out, snaked his fingers around the back of her neck and he squeezed.
Don't. Don't rush away to cry alone.
And she slowed just enough to let him secure his hold on her, and she gasped out again in disbelief and as Carl pulled the gate closed he pulled her close and slid his hand across her back, let her sob, just once, just one good time, into his shoulder.
It was a quiet sound, restrained.
She was strong. She'd become so much stronger than he was. And she'd lost just as much.
Rick breathed in, breathed deep, pushing the images of death and dying and loss and hysteria to the darkest corners behind his eyes and he reached up again, fingered her neck, didn't even consider how it calmed him as he listened to her silent, shuddering grief…
She'd been there for him in that moment, and she'd cried for him.
He wouldn't let her grieve alone, especially when he needed the comfort just as much as she.