Noxi: This was a very bad idea. Keep a tissue on hand, just in case.

Disclaimer: The Walking Dead and all affiliates belong to Kirkman and AMC.

Warning: Character Death

As the Rain Falls

It didn't feel like anything. Not the dislocated shoulder, or the wound to his side. Not the bites that covered him from head to foot. It was just another pain to add to the ever growing list, like the notches he used to carve into his bed post. It was the reason he kept fighting - - - to feel alive. He got up every morning knowing that this could be his last, but never able to just let go.

That wasn't who he was anymore. He was more than just a dumb redneck with little to give and everything to take. He wasn't weak, and he wasn't strong. He wasn't useless to the people around him. But he was more than just a person, someone who only had himself. People looked to him for guidance, strength, a shoulder. He was a friend, a brother, a lover. He was needed. And that was the most filling feeling in the world.

It wasn't possible for him to just walk away now. It wasn't as easy. He had family here, people he couldn't turn his back on. They needed him, almost as much as he needed them. And he wasn't going to betray that trust. It would hurt him more than he knew it would hurt them. So he stayed, no matter what happened. Not when Glenn died leaving Maggie and their unborn child to mourn and survive his loss. Not when he watched as Beth died, fighting for what she believed in. Not even when Judith was gone, and all he could do was watch as a fucking cold took her from them, devastating Rick and Carl into a darkness they never seemed to come out of. Not even when she had declared her love for him, no matter how he felt, even if he didn't return her feelings. He stayed, for all of them, and he carried them. Because that was what he could do.

So when he was surrounded by walkers on every side and allowing them to get to safety, yelling at them to keep moving even as he watched her hesitate too long, he knew it was time. Knew that it was his time to say goodbye, and yet, he still didn't want to give up. He had too much to live for now. Too many people he wanted to say goodbye too. So many unsaid things that could never be spoken. He was an idiot for moving forward. It was over and nothing could be done about it. He accepted that. Despite the life he had had, he had found something else, the one thing he had thought impossible. He had found love. A notion he had never figured possible.

But he couldn't accept letting those he had left, go, without seeing them one last time. It was foolish, and stupid. Mostly it was selfish, but he couldn't stop putting one foot in front of the other. Not with the sight of them at the edge of his vision, calling for him.

And so, he stumbled. Forward and onward and never stopping. Not for the aching pain from his calf or the sting in his shoulder. Or the way his blood boiled underneath his skin. He barely held onto the crossbow, his last defense, as it dragged across the dirt behind him. He couldn't stop. Not until he had one last chance. Not until he knew it was okay.

It was easier to keep moving forward now. He was practically one of the walkers, with bites littered across his body, blood coating his skin and the smell of death seeping from his pours. He was dead. A dead man walking. And he didn't plan on stopping, didn't plan on turning until he had one last moment.

He didn't even know he had stumbled into them until he was falling, backwards, eyes cast up to the darkening sky as his vision tunneled as he thought was dead, and had fallen into the darkness forever.

It's going to rain.

It wasn't until he realized that he hadn't hit the ground that he was wrapped in something warm, and faces hovered above him, hazy. It was like a dream - - - a good one. One he'd never experienced before. Rick knelt to one side, his mouth in a grim line, jaw tight. Carl hovered over his shoulder, eyes cast in shadow. But he didn't miss the single tear that slipped down his cheek. He wanted to tell the kid everything would be okay - - - for him anyway. He would survive, because this was his world now. But he didn't have the strength. He blinked and Michonne was at Carl's side then, her arm around his shoulder in comfort, even as she nodded at him. As if she understood that this is where their paths together ended.

All of this in one single moment. The one moment he had wished for. And then none of it mattered as he turned toward the sole reason he had kept on going and met those fierce blue eyes that he had learned to love.

Carol, ragged, bruised, still alive, still beautiful, was crying. She wasn't holding back, she wasn't pleading with him not to go. She just pulled him closer to her chest, and cried.

Her fingers pressed against his cheek as her lip trembled. He wanted to reach up and brush the tears away, press her trembling lip down and tell her she would be alright. But he couldn't. There was no strength left. All he could do was push the smile to his lips and turn his head, brushing his cheek against her. She sobbed, a childish and heartbroken sound that tore his chest right down the middle.

She leaned forward, bending over him, kissing his forehead, his eyes, his cheek and finally his lips, stealing the little breath he had left. So feather-like and gentle he thought he was imagining it. But then she was whispering in his ear, her lips brushing the corner of his jaw. He missed the first part, but he caught the most important thing - - -

I love you.

He wanted to say the words back, to comfort her. He could hear himself now - - -

Promise me you will survive. Promise you will fight as long as you can. Promise me that no matter what, you will put me down, forgive yourself, and keep moving forward. Forget me.

But know that I loved you, and always will.

He could hear the words, slow and soft in his head. And he didn't think he could say them. But she was watching his lips and the tears streamed faster as she forced her eyes shut, and nodded.

It's okay.

He sighed, as the sound of her faded heartbeat warmed him and he closed his eyes, pressing his face in her chest and breathing her in.

It was okay now. He could just - - - let go.

Because here was where he wanted to spend his last moment.

He felt the cool touch of metal against his temple, and it was a relief against the heat that burned him from within. His lungs fought harder, shuddering, losing control. Carol's tremble echoed through him, and he struggled to keep his mind as he felt her fingers curl deeply into his arm, as if she wanted to hold onto him just a moment longer.

It was the brush of her lips against his temple. It was the warmth of her lying next to him. It was a clarity, a feeling of rightness that settled over his chest as the last vestige of strength poured through him and he was there for the last time, listening to her voice.

Like he used to do on the mornings when he feigned sleep, just to hear her wake beside him and know that life had been good if this was how he was to wake up every morning at her side, listening to the sound of her voice drift over him gently - - - lovingly.

He felt the drops hit his face.

"It's okay.

- - - I promise."

Goodbye my lover.
Goodbye my friend.
You have been the one.
You have been the one for me.