Rick came home with a grin on his face, Shane following him, his boots landing heavily on the carpeted area of the foyer. Today marked their last day at the police academy. Now, they were officially police officers of their small Georgian town—of the most junior standing, of course, but this had been a long-held dream of theirs since freshman year. Neither of them could stop laughing at their own half-formed jokes, and soon, Rick's little sister, Hazel, came barreling down the stairs.
"Ricky!" she squealed as she launched herself at him. Instinctively, the man caught the six-year-old and swung her up into his arms.
"What's going on, sweetheart? Huh? Shouldn't you be asleep?" Rick asked, quick to put her on top of his shoulders, just as she liked.
"Mommy said I could stay up until you got back," the little one said triumphantly. She buried her fingers in his hair, the curls becoming reins. Rick wasn't about to fight her, lest his shiny dark locks get tugged out of his scalp entirely.
"Didn't have nothin' to do with you wanting to see your favorite big brother, Shane, did it, now?" Shane swiped Hazel off of Rick's shoulders, tickling her as he cradled her in his arms. She let out a high pitched squeal, wriggling to get away.
"Aw, c'mon, you know I'm your real brother, don'tcha, Hazel?" Rick let a false plea color his voice. His bright blue eyes widened beseechingly.
"Who cares? She knows I'm better."
The two continued to bicker good-naturedly until their unrestrained laughter seemed to alert the other occupant of the house.
"Is that you, Rick?" a female voice called from the upstairs.
"Yeah, Ma, it's me." He gestured to Shane as his mother came running down to meet them. "Brought this bum with me, too. Figured we could get him a meal, at least, before sendin' him back out on the streets."
"Aw, fuck you, man."
"You watch your mouth," Rick's mother admonished, but she wore a smile. "What has you two so happy, huh?"
Rick groaned. "Mama, did you forget?" He shook his head at his mother's blank expression. "It's all I been talkin' about these past few weeks! You can't tell me you forgot."
"Now, Rick, stop your silliness and tell your ma what's goin' on. I got some iced tea ready for all y'all inside."
The new cop slumped his shoulders, not quite believing that his mother didn't remember that today was his graduation date from the police academy. Hell, he'd been running around with Shane playing cops and robbers ever since he was able to walk. This wasn't something he thought anyone'd forget—especially not his mother. But he followed her anyway, the promise of iced tea too appealing to his somewhat-chafed throat from all his laughing and yelling with Shane and his other graduate friends. Shane seemed to sense his disappointment. He clapped him on the shoulder with a crooked smile, mouthing something that resembled the word, women. Rick stifled a laugh, not wanting to have to explain to his ma what he was so funny.
"Rick? What's keepin' you? Get in here!"
The man rolled his eyes, but he started walking with Shane's arm slung over his shoulders, while his friend's other arm was occupied carrying Hazel, who was jabbering excitedly about nothing in particular. When he finally joined his mother in the kitchen, the first thing his eyes were drawn to was the table.
On it sat a cake, large and round and covered with light blue whipped cream from the looks of it. Green frosting formed the loopy letters spelling out the words, "Congratulations, Sheriff Rick". Underneath the main text was a sloppy addition, hardly legible, saying, "and friend". Rick had to hide loud laughter at that, looking at Shane.
"Hiya, friend," he mocked, reaching up and messing up the man's hair playfully.
"Aw, shut up, man. She obviously didn't wanna make it too obvious that she likes me more than you," Shane retorted, looking at Rick's mother, who was standing with a dish towel slung over her shoulder.
"You really think I'd forget when my son was gonna graduate from the Academy?" she asked, her voice feigning hurt. But her eyes told differently, their green depths shining brightly with pride.
"Mama, I. . ." Rick was at a loss for words, tears pricking at his eyes. He wanted to kick himself for thinking that she would forget, but his ma was a damn good actress when she wanted to be.
"What he's tryin' to say is," Shane interjected roughly, "that looks fantastic, Mrs. Grimes."
Rick didn't say anything. Instead, he broke free of Shane's arm and hugged his mom, enveloping her tiny frame in his arms. "Thanks, Ma. This is. . ."
His mother hugged him back fiercely before pushing back and cupping his face in both of her hands. ". . . what a mother does for her boy when he does somethin' special," she finished for him, reaching up on her tip-toes to kiss his forehead. "I just wish your father coulda been here to see this."
Rick's expression fell, all joy from his graduation and the cake and his family fleeing in a split second. He wanted to get angry at his mother for mentioning him. She knew how hard this topic was for him, and she chose to bring it up today of all days. But as he looked into her eyes, he felt his anger dissipate as quickly as it'd come. Only to be replaced with unbearable sadness that made his throat feel tight and put pressure behind his eyes.
"Yeah, me, too," he whispered, looking down as he fought back the tears in his eyes.
"Let's have us some cake!" Shane suddenly said, but the false cheer in his voice was just too obvious to do anything for the sudden melancholy in the air.
"Oh, yes," his mother responded, her warm hands leaving Rick's thin face. "That's what I made it for, didn't I?"
He watched in awe as his mother bustled around the kitchen, a smile plastered on her face that Rick nearly believed if he didn't know the pain that was lurking beneath it. If anyone had been affected more by his father's death than Rick, it was his mother. And it showed sheerly by how hard she tried to seem normal. Tried to act like she was okay, even though she could hardly pay to take care of her kids without her husband's salary. Rick felt a flash of guilt—a feeling he'd had often recently—as he realized that he was nineteen, and, yet, he was still relying on his mother to take care of him. That was half the reason he decided to go into law enforcement rather than go to college. The other half was because he just didn't have the money, and loans just end badly for most people. And anyway, he didn't see the point in going to school when he knew what he wanted to do. Law enforcement was his passion. It always had been.
"Rick, man, you with us? You look like you're a thousand miles away." Shane's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. His eyes focused on his best friend, who had looked concerned ever since his mother mentioned him.
"Yeah, 'm here." Rick was distracted as Hazel crawled up onto his lap rather than taking the chair that their mother had set for her. "What are you, a little monkey? Huh?" He tickled her sides, eliciting a giggle from his little sister.
"No horsin' around before you eat. Food won't settle right," his ma chided, placing cake in front of all of them. He noticed that he and Shane got the biggest pieces, the smallest going to her.
"Thanks, Ma," he said quietly. "Don't you want more cake?"
"Nah," she responded, a little too quickly for his liking. "It's for you and Shane."
"That's Mr. Friend to you," Shane corrected smartly, grinning his stupid smile.
Rick knew that he should respond with something equally witty, but he couldn't find it in himself. He merely picked at his cake, suddenly not feeling very hungry despite the fact he hadn't eaten since morning. But the minute that his mother's cake touched his tongue, he found himself able to make himself shake off the depression that the conversation had cast over him. He could just taste the effort in the moist sponge of the cake, the perfect precision that she used to make the whipped cream the sweetness she knew he loved. She didn't deserve to have the night she had obviously planned so well ruined by his melodramatic bullshit, and he knew it.
"I was thinkin' of gettin' my own apartment sometime soon, Ma," he said. Maybe this particular conversation would take a few worries off her mind.
It seemed to do the opposite as he watched her brow knit together. "You don't gotta do that, son. Save your money for somethin' more worthwhile."
"I'm nineteen. I think it's 'bout time I got out on my own."
"Yeah, I been on my own since last year," Shane added. Rick looked at him gratefully. Shane always had his back on things like this—knew what he was thinking as soon as he opened his mouth. "If worst comes to worst, he could always live with me, Mrs. Grimes."
"I've told ya, call me Susanne," she said absently, looking troubled. For the second time that night, Rick wanted to kick himself.
"Wait!" Hazel yelled out suddenly, turning around to look up at Rick.
"What is it, sunshine?" he asked kindly, putting his hand, large compared to her, on top of her head.
"You ain't talkin' 'bout goin' 'way, are ya?" she asked, sticking her lower lip out in a pout. When he didn't answer right away, tears filled her eyes. "You can't go! Ricky, don' go."
"Shame on you, Rick Grimes, talkin' like that in front of your kid sister," Susanne scolded, but she looked angry at him for another reason entirely. "This is a celebration, for Christ's sake. We'll talk 'bout this some other time, all right?"
Rick sighed, but he smiled. "Yeah, you're right. Sorry, Ma. Didn't mean to ruin everythin'."
"Ya didn't, sweetie. Just eat your cake. I'm still mighty proud'a you."
He nodded, shoveling more of the cake into his mouth, not really tasting it anymore. Surprisingly, he just wanted to finish as soon as possible, so he'd just be able to curl up in his bed and let blissful sleep take him.
"I'm tellin' ya, man, this place is perfect. Rent's cheap and it's right near the station."
Rick looked around doubtfully at the apartment, unable to associate the word "perfect" with it. The walls were stained to the point that Rick had no idea what color they were supposed to be. The bedroom was basically a closet, but he realized that he was lucky to have it separate from the rest of the layout. He couldn't help wishing that the toilet had that privacy, though, because whoever had designed the apartment decided to just stick it in a corner for all to see. He could just get a divider or something, but that was plain uncomfortable.
"There has to be a better place than this," Rick muttered to Shane, careful to keep his voice down, since the landlord was across the rather small room. "Didn't really have something like this in mind when I said I wanted to get out on my own."
"You get used to it, you know? It ain't that bad after a while, Rick. Trust me, all right?"
"Yeah, I guess. . ." Rick sighed. They'd been looking for apartments here and there all week, and he really was starting to think that this was the best he was gonna get. And he couldn't just go back home. He needed to get his own place, take a load off his mother's mind. She acted like she didn't want him to leave, but Rick knew that this would help her. So he had every intention of returning home only to pack up his stuff and show his mother the key to his new apartment. And despite his genial exterior, he was one stubborn bastard. He got that from his ma, after all. So he sighed in defeat, letting Shane win.
"Yeah, I'll give it a try. I can fix this place up. But you'd better lend me a hand, you hear?" Rick nudged his friend. He was greeted with a look of offense.
"When've I ever fallen through on a job, man?"
Rick could list more times than he could count, but he just smiled indulgingly at Shane. "Fine, fine. This weekend, then."
"But I've got a date with—" The look Rick gave him made him burst into laughter. "I'm kiddin', man! I'm startin' to think ya don't know me at all."
"I wish," Rick muttered, knowing exactly what would rile his friend up. Getting Shane irate was one of his favorite pastimes because it was so damn easy.
And, as predicted, his jibe worked. "You gotta be kiddin'. Without me, you'd—"
"You gonna rent the place or what?" The two jumped at the landlord's voice behind them. Focused on their playful argument, neither of them had heard him approach. Rick snorted once he recovered from the slight scare. His possible landlord didn't waste words, and that was something he respected in a man.
"Yeah, where can I sign the lease?" Even though this place seemed pretty bad, Rick had no doubt that he and Shane could make it look nice. After all, he could suffer through a few ramen dinners to pay off the renovation costs.
The man opened his mouth to answer when Rick's walkie buzzed at his hip. He cursed softly so that his landlord wouldn't hear. This was his break hour, for God's sake. It wasn't like he ditched his post to go and shop for apartments. He planned this. He looked at Shane and saw his annoyance mirrored in his friend's face.
Regaining his composure, he brought his attention back to Mr. Lowe and said, "I'm sorry. I'll just be a minute."
Rick walked as far from Shane and Mr. Lowe as the small apartment allowed, well aware that Shane's eyes were trained on him, his ears catching every word that was spoken. "Grimes here. What's going on? Over."
"We got a Dixon in custody. We need you and Walsh at the station right away. Over."
Shane and Rick looked at each other simultaneously when they heard that name, qualms about being summoned during their break entirely forgotten. Everyone in town knew the Dixons—well, more accurately, Merle Dixon. Hardly a day passed where the man wasn't arrested for a fight or drug use and dealing. The two new cops had become used to their superiors rushing out at the drop of a hat after a call involving the serial criminal. They both knew that it was only a matter of time before they met him, but it still came as a shock.
"Mr. Lowe, I'm really sorry, but we're going to have to cut this short. Is there a time I can come back to sign that lease?" Rick asked, already heading toward the door of the apartment.
The landlord looked annoyed, but he nodded. "Call me before seven o'clock tonight, or else I'm givin' the apartment to someone else."
Rick nodded. "I'll be in contact. Sorry!" he added before rushing out the door with Shane hot on his heels.
"I can't believe it," Rick said as he got into the driver's seat of his car. It'd only been a few months since he and Shane had become cops, but, unlike his friend, no one called him "rookie". He was respected already by his superiors, trusted with more and more with every day that passed. He knew Shane was a little jealous, but he preferred driving with Rick rather than a cocky superior officer. "I expected to hear from Dixon a lot sooner than this."
"He was probably off on some bender so some other poor ass cops had to deal with his worthless ass," Shane commented offhandedly. "Now that he's back, he's probably raising hell."
"Yeah." Rick carefully stayed at the speed limit, despite his excitement. His respect from the other officers wouldn't last if he was caught speeding due to typical rookie adrenaline. "Wonder why they want us there. It's our break hour." That was the reason they were looking at the apartment, after all. "Figure they're shorthanded?"
"Guess so, but I ain't complainin'. Think we'll do any interrogation?"
Rick looked at Shane briefly, not wanting to take his eyes off the road for too long. He saw the sadistic sneer on his partner's face and grimaced. "That ain't why we joined the force, man."
"Well, let me tell you somethin'. The streets are better without someone like Merle Dixon on them—that's for sure."
"We'll do what the law says. We're cops."
"Yeah, yeah. But I tell you, if I had an excuse to get my hands on that guy. . ."
He chose not to entertain the possibility as they pulled into the station's parking lot, jumping out the car as soon as he had the key out of the ignition. Officer Hughes was waiting for them when they got into the lobby, reading the paper with a cup of coffee. Rick noticed that his fingers were covered in the white powder of the donuts he was trying to diet from and hid a laugh behind a well-placed cough.
"Where's he at?" Shane asked immediately, brown eyes wild with excitement, but Rick stepped in front of him.
"What'd you need us for, sir?" he asked more respectfully, shooting a scolding glance in Shane's direction. Last thing he needed was Shane making things harder for himself at the station. He was a good cop, as good as Rick was himself. But his attitude made the others dislike him, and it was a pain to constantly defend his friend. He would be the laughing stock if they didn't realize that he did it out of principle; his friend could be a real asshole sometimes. Shane had to realize he was just hurting himself by acting the way he did, but that man was as bullheaded as they came.
"We wanted to give you and the rookie some direct experience. S'bout time you got it," Hughes responded. "It's just a kid, anyway. Should be easy for you to get information out of him."
A kid? Rick thought to himself. From what he'd heard, Merle had been a kid when he started his career as their town's most notorious criminal. "Excuse me, sir, but I thought you said you arrested Merle Dixon?"
The officer laughed. "Nah, he's too hardcore for you two. We got his kid brother, Daryl."