"YOU DID THIS TO US! THIS WAS YOU, NOT ME!"

The words sprung Rick up from his far from restful sleep. Luckily, he did not disturb his family, who quietly slept. Carl snuggled warmly to Lori. Rick could see the foggy cloud escape from his mouth as he exhaled heavily. Sweat beads collected on his forehead and slicked down the sides of his face. Damn you, Shane, Rick thought mutely. Rick's hands felt warm and sticky, as if Shane's blood still coated his finger tips.

Rick could see Daryl in the corner of his eye keeping watch for the camp. Hershel slept with Maggie and Beth and Carol slept alone but rather close in proximity to Daryl. The fact that the group was out there in the wilderness kept Rick up already and Shane making impromptu visits in his dreams weren't helping either.

"You still up, babe," Lori said groggily.

"Can't really sleep," Rick said, his voice was distant, and his eye contact was absent. It's been that way since the farm.

"What are you thinking about?" asked Lori as she freed her arm from under Carl's head. "What's bothering you?"

"Shane." Rick didn't elaborate; he barely wanted to talk to Lori, let alone about Shane. Rick stood and walked away, disconnecting from his wife rather abruptly.

There was a time Lori used to dream of the day Rick would quarrel with her. Most of the time he would merely cave to her demands. But since Shane's death, all they did was fight. But Rick's version of fighting didn't involve elevated voices. He beat you down with one word sentences and his distance. He made Lori wonder if he even loved her anymore, he wondered that himself.

Lori quickly followed behind her husband but made sure not to disturb a sleeping Carl. "Rick. RICK!" Lori hissed after Rick who finally stopped at the second time she called his name. "We can't keep doing this."

"Doing what?" retorted Rick with hostility.

"This! Walking away, pretending…"

"Pretending, what Lori?"

"Pretending we aren't married and I don't love you. Pretending that I didn't feel gutted when I thought you were dead. Pretending-"

"-Pretending you weren't with him," Rick swiped back. Daryl's ear perked, though not one to gossip, Rick and Lori's arguments were the only thing mildly interesting to watch.

Lori absorbed the blow; besides this is what she wanted. Passion. She wanted passion and fire back in her marriage; and now Rick was going to passionately curse her out. "I know you hate me right now, Rick."

"Hate you?" Rick retorted. "Everything is about you, isn't it? When isn't it about you, Lori?"

The way he said the word "Lori" was patronizing. He wanted her to know how much she made everything about her. How she couldn't see beyond her dense bubble of selfishness. Rick, though outwardly hostile was still crushed.

"Are we going to do this right here and now? Is this where you're going to tell me how awful I was. How I betrayed you, how I shit on everything we built? Spare me your pity party, Rick. Look around us; we have bigger issues to worry about."

She wasn't wrong, as with most things, Lori could see the bigger picture. But Rick was too sensitive and this betrayal would be too much for him to bear. Of all things that Lori could do and of all the people she could do it with she chose Shane. In his mind it was borderline incest.

But something was bothering Rick even more so than these recent dreams of Shane. Lori's body language when Rick told her that he killed Shane revealed her true feelings for him. The way she grieved for Shane concerned him. Rick was already somewhat insecure by nature, but after this deceit, his esteem in Lori was nonexistent.

"Tell me something and don't lie to me," Rick warned.

"What do you want from me, Rick?" surrendered Lori.

Rick's eyes tightened along with the roundness of his mouth. "The truth." The scruff on his face slightly thicken by neglect tickled his face; Rick rubs his mouth and slightly leans into his wife. "I want to know, from your mouth: Did you love him, even for a second?"

"Oh, God, no," Lori said as if it was a silly notion. "Of course not, Rick. I was alone and horrified, and Shane was all I knew in a world that fell apart. I made a mistake in a moment of weakness. I didn't plan for it or wish it, it just happened. So no Rick, I never loved Shane."

Lori was lying, though she never loved Shane, it wasn't a mistake at all. For many years Shane and Lori had a friendly relationship. Shane being Rick's oldest friend made him a constant presence at the Grimes' residence.

Lori and Rick weren't exactly social butterflies and kept to themselves, especially Lori. Lori found herself in a marriage that she only felt mildly satisfied with. After dropping out of college when she got pregnant with Carl, Lori believed she sacrificed her life to be a mom and wife. With very few friends Lori would often turn to Shane to confide in.

But now he was dead. Lori felt no reason to share with Rick the whole truth. That she and Shane had sex for weeks upon weeks. That she took off her ring because Shane said it was a distraction. She may not have loved Shane but he brought and excitement that Rick never had. He was a dynamic and aggressive lover; the things he would say to Lori would make her feel so sexy. She felt youthful again with Shane.

But Rick saw the other side of Shane, that dark void of hate hidden deep within him. It would seep out at times, Rick could recall a time when Shane unloaded a barrage of punches on a cuffed assailant. Yeah, there was a darkness in him. But Rick also recalled the time his father passed from cancer it was Shane that stayed with him. They cried together while Lori slept in the lobby with Carl. "Then you can never understand why I can't sleep. Because … I loved Shane and I hurt. And you can't fix that. It's just another thing I have to live with."

Rick walks away from Lori again; Lori begins to follow him but stops herself. He needed his space and she needed to be with Carl.

Phillip was done with Austin and this piss poor driving; he was clearly drunk. "Pull over, you're too trashed. Let me drive."

"No police, no living pedestrians, how much does it really matter what my Blood alcohol level is?" Austin's tone was coarse, even when he was trying to stop drinking he didn't like being chastised.

"Austin, there could be living pedestrians but not if you mow them down—" Phillip's words were interrupted by the abrupt turn Austin made as he collided with a small group of walkers who piled into the middle of the road. The thick tires slid on the bones and flesh of the walkers as Austin attempted to regain control of the PYTHON.

He ultimately did.

"Good job, douche-rocket, I bit my tongue," Phillip complained. "Park it." Phillips voice was assertive and in no way was he asking. "I don't care if there were one hundred rotters outside those doors; you are going to park this piece of shit right now."

Austin complied, he could tell he was about to get yelled at. Luckily for him, he was drunk already, so most of it he would tune out. Austin's drinking had increased in the recent weeks, the closer the two got to Virginia the more nervous Austin became.

"Are you trying to kill us?" Phillip's hazel eyes darken by the night but Austin could see a faint glow of his husband's face through the darkness. They had become accustomed to speaking in the darkness like most lovers do. Austin and Phillip often conducted their missions in the darkness of night; shadows were the centerpiece of their relationship.

Austin initially wanted to just ignore the ornery, rhetorical question but since Phillip wanted to go there. "I'm just following your insane lead. Did we not agree that we are not going to help people? 'Getting involved would put us at risk'. And what do you do? You go out in the middle of the night, find some friggin' straggler and next thing we know, we got fucking rockets firing at us!"

Phillip didn't waver from Austin's nuclear explosion because he had a rebuttal already prepared. "And you know how long they were following us? They could have been on us of days; we weren't exactly looking for them. I guess our inconspicuous vehicle didn't attract unwanted attention. And you'd put that on me? You really are drunk if you thought that shit would fly."

And just as Phillip knew where Austin's weak spot hid, he too knew where to attack Phillip. "While you're picking up mutts off the street, you should be more concerned about Cameron."

Phillip knew when Austin drank he got petty, so he was prepared for this. But when he sobered up, Phillip would make him pay for that statement. "All I do is think about Cameron and my mother, that's why we can't do this alone. Wacky shit is going to happen; did you not notice the apocalypse? There's going to be situations that we won't be able to just sashay out of."

Oh shit, Phillip thought of Shane and how talented he was, Shane was now even influencing Phillip's lexicon. "We are great as a team; we're Ronnie and Clyde for Pete's sake. But this - this isn't like anything we've faced before. It makes the Sierra Leon Mission look like cake and as much as you think that everything is going to blow over in six months you need to open your mind to that not happening. It's been well over six months already since "Patient 0" and they still don't have a vaccine. And I haven't heard dick from the government, have you?"

"You have hope that Cameron and your mother Barb are both alive, I have faith that our government is working on a cure."

"Fair enough," Phillip said with hostility peppering his words. Phillip turned from Austin and folded his arms; he was so upset that Austin silhouette was pissing him off.

"Are we pouting?" Austin teased. He was so sexy when he began to pout.

"I'm done talking to you; call me when your blood isn't 90 percent vodka. Perhaps you can think straight then." quipped Phillip.

Austin reached into the darkness and found a strand of Phillip's curly onyx locks. Austin loved Phillips long, thick hair, he toyed with the satin lock for a second. "Maybe the problem is my blood is all rushing to the wrong direction. I'm making these… impulsive decisions." He highlighted the word "pulse" in impulsive.

Phillip felt the heat build under his skin as Austin's hands traveled to his shoulder. He could feel Austin's strong hands massage his shoulder enticingly. Austin and Phillip may have problems - a slew of them actually. But the sex wasn't one of them.

Austin actually enjoyed when Phillip resisted, it was one of his favorite games. "I know you, Phillip. You're always on fire after a mission."

"There was nothing sexy about what we had to do?" Phillip said, somewhat melting into Austin massage.

"I'm still sexy," Austin said before rising from his seat and caught Phillip's lips with a soft kiss. The kiss was followed with a more assertive kiss. Phillip was overwhelmed from Austin strength and weight, Austin pinned Phillip to his seat intensifying the kiss.

Phillip broke the kiss, he needed air. "Christ, you weigh a ton." Though Austin's body was comprised primarily of muscle, it was still a large form on Phillip's 5'9 frame.

"Hey, watch your mouth," Austin said as he playfully slapped Phillips thigh. "You don't want to be spanked do you?"

"You do recognize I am not an active participant," Phillip noted. "So you plan to do what: just take it?"

Austin collided his face into Phillips for another forceful kiss before releasing him from the embrace; he lightly bit Phillip's plump bottom lip. And in his smoky, Bed-Stuy voice Austin replies simply, "Yeah, I do."

"Fucking-A" Phillip said before pulling Austin closer for a kiss.

Shane knew he was about a three hour trek from the Hershel's farm but he knew he needed to take a quick break. Shane was weakened by the blood loss from his broken stitches. He knew he needed to take a load off before heading to the farm. Hopefully, he would be able to find a car to hide in for a few hours.

However all Shane could see was darkness and an open road. "Fucking great," he said under his breath.

The night was beautiful, the country wilderness chirped blissfully and the ink sky was adorned with stars. Two years ago it would have been just another beautiful night in Georgia but today it was a death march.

Shane wasn't sure what he expected to see when he got to Hershel's farm. Best case scenario everyone survived the attack. Rick being dead wouldn't be so bad though, thought Shane. But Shane knew his luck and his luck was indeed shitty as of late.

With Shane's luck, Rick is probably sitting on the porch with his revolver, waiting for him to show his face. Lori is probably pouring him a glass of pink lemonade while Carl sleeps in Hershel's bed. So what are you going to do when you get there? Shane wasn't really sure what he was going to do, he had an assault rifle, he could kill Rick but then he would have to deal with T-Dog, Daryl, and Hershel's family.

But then it hit him, there was no point in going back for Lori. Lori didn't love him, Shane wasn't even sure if Lori even loved Rick. The only person Lori truly loved, in Shane's opinion, was Carl. She was unable to see the shit storm she caused and honestly he knew she wouldn't leave Rick for him. So if Lori wanted to be with Rick, so be it. He just wanted to see that she was alive, that was enough for him.

Andrea, however, would leave with Shane. Shane knew she was looking for a way out, but she was indeed unhinged. But hell, so was he. The plan was as follows: he would spy on the farm and see if it was even still there. He would also see if Lori was alive, after which he would find Andrea and convince her to leave with him right then and there. Hopefully, she would say yes.

In the slight chance that Lori was dead but Rick was still alive, he would at very least execute Rick. Rick wasn't allowed to live in a world that Lori wasn't in. That was the one rule that Shane would enforce no matter what. He had no problem with making Carl an orphan, assuming he wasn't dead already.

Shane's notoriously horrid luck began to change, he located a familiar scene. Multiple vehicles piled into both lanes of Interstate 85. "Sophia…" Shane said breathlessly. Shane managed to find the blocked road where the group lost Sophia, this is where things changed. When Rick lost Sophia the dynamics of the group altered. Shane went from group leader, to co-leader, to side kick and here is where it all began.

The Sherriff figured he would hold up in a vehicle here for a few moments and check on his wound. Shane also figured a few winks would do the body good; he lost a lot of blood thanks to Rick. He knew he would need his strength for the next phase.

Through the blackness of night, Shane could vaguely make out the letters spelling "LIPSEY" on the side panel of a large truck. It's like being baptized, man, a flashback entered Shane's mind but he quickly banished those warm thoughts. Shane had found the water truck, again. Perfect place to hide, he thought. All he needed was about an hour, but Shane couldn't help but sleep two.

Phillip may not have been sure about many things since the world ended. But he did know one thing was certain: Vodka, plus sex equals lights out for Austin. Phillip made sure to give him the "trilogy" as he put it, making sure they fucked 3 times back-to-back-to-back.

"Way better Trilogy than The Godfather," Phillip would promise.

"Of course it is," Austin would confess, "The last Godfather was shit. But that's a win by default."

Phillip leans over to his sleeping husband to get a closer look. Austin let out a deep, wet snore, with his mouth open wide. Yup, Phillip thought. Not even a stampede of snuffaluffagus couldn't wake up the sleepy Sicilian. Besides, Phillip figured he needed his rest, he was 42 after all. Phillip slithered away from the sleeping Austin and crawled to the back of the PYTHON.

Buster's ears perked with interest as he watched one of his masters crawling on the ground. The animal was perplexed, raising his head and letting out a curious groan. Phillip quickly retrieved his utility bag that was pre-packed with weapons, ammo, and other supplies. Phillip didn't need much, he would take his two berettas, two bowie knives, and one advanced M-16.

Phillip was careful not to make too much noise as he quietly put back on his combat uniform. Once he was completely dressed, he decided to go through the roof exit of the vehicle. Phillip knew the doors were very loud when you open and close them. He didn't want to risk it. Phillip carefully opened the roof hatch door, but before exiting Phillip looks at Buster sternly.

"Are you going to snitch me out?" Phillip asks the dog.

The dog lets out a small whimper before shoving his snout deeper into his paws. Phillip couldn't help but smirk, "Good, boy!" Phillip climbs through door with his bag of gear.

Killing ten walkers was no problem for Phillip. Phillip was so adequate with hand-to-hand combat with the living that taking on the dead was almost robbery. Besides the dead were occupied with an unlucky individual they were devouring. Phillip scanned the area and pretty much put the pieces together, the man was knocked off his small motor bike by the walkers who in turn tore him apart like monkey bread.

A sad day for him, but a good day for Phillip. Phillip picked up the small red Kawasaki motor bike; he made sure the tank had enough to get him where he needed before taking off into the night. A half of tank of gas should get him to where he needed to be.

Daryl smoked a cigarette as he looked out into the dark, hazy night sky. Daryl lucked up and found an entire pack of Newport's in the breast pocket of a walker. He was more of a Marlboro man but he could tolerate these. Rick hovered over Daryl, Rick needed space from Lori.

"Can't sleep?" asked Daryl, his mouth tightly around the lit cigarette.

"I could take watch," replied Rick, "You have been out here for hours."

Daryl let out a smoky scuff, "Even if I could sleep, I would still be out here."

"We gotta keep looking, there's a place out here for us. We start going house–to–house; most of these older style houses have gates or security. We're bound to find a place. " Rick could sense Daryl was more stoic than usual; he was already isolative by nature.

Daryl didn't exactly prescribe to Rick's belief in this fortress in the middle of the woods theory. Far as he knew, the best place to go is the mountain; Daryl had a hypothesis that walkers were generally repelled by high elevations. But like most of Daryl's ideas, he kept it to himself. However, the ghost of Shane still lurked over the group, it was only days since the farm was overrun. And Carol still whispered her suspicions regarding Rick to Daryl.

Dixon didn't really like Shane, but even through his madness, Daryl could see his logic. It was logical to head to Fort Benning, it made total since to kill Randall, and storing walkers in a barn was probably not a good idea, either. At least if Daryl could have found Sophia in the forest as a walker there would be some sense of closure. Closure for Carol, closure for him.

He didn't understand all the dynamics of the Rick-Shane-Lori love triangle, but he knew enough. He knew Lori and Shane were screwing, the entire group knew, minus the children. Daryl even caught the two once; fucking near the quarry. Once Rick returned things got far more complicated, Daryl knew things would end poorly. They had to.

He wasn't stupid; Daryl wasn't exactly buying Rick's spin of the events. Rick made it appear that Shane's death was for the betterment of the group, but Daryl suspected it had more to do with Lori. Daryl didn't see it as a lie but just a slight blur of the truth. Daryl was indeed distant from Rick, but he was distant from them all.

"Do you think about him?" Rick asked. "Merle, do you think he's still out there?"

Daryl had been so focused his survival that he all but forgot about his brother. "If anyone could survive it would be that fucking, asshole."

"Does it ever keep you up at night?"

Daryl shrugged his shoulders, "One of the things."

Rick gripped his revolver before finally planting himself next to Daryl. Rick looked into the horizon of the night and counted the stars slightly obscured by the grey clouds. "I want to hate him, Shane. And a part of me does, for what he made me do. He put us all at risk—he put my family at risk. I want to commit to hating him."

"If you hated him you'd be sleeping right now," Daryl noted.

"You're probably right," confessed Rick, Rick was surprised when he let a small chuckle out at the notion. "He was my oldest friend and I had to put a knife in his chest. Every since that night, everything has fallen apart. Not five minutes from the moment I ram that blade in his chest the farm got overrun. Was that fate? Or-or, was that God trying to say something?"

"Pretty fucked up God for letting any of this happen." Daryl never believed in religion and his suspicions were confirmed once the dead began to walk.

"Shane was a plague upon another plague. He was leading us down a dark path, a path that would have been drenched in our blood. We lost a lot of people back there, but with Shane in the mix, I know we would have lost even more. So why can't I get some rest?"

"You answered your own question," Daryl relit his cigarette. "What you did is supposed to haunt you, if you're a good man. I never had friends, best or otherwise, so I'm not exactly an expert."

"I never took you for a philosopher, Daryl," Rick replied.

"Hell, sometimes I surprise myself."

Screw my wife?! Have my children call you daddy? Is that what you want? Rick's voice hastened Shane to consciousness. Upon opening his eyes he saw a dark figure beside him, before he could reach for his gun the figure finally spoke.

"Took you long enough, I was afraid that I was going to have to put a bullet in your head."

Shane focused his eyes, "How did you find me, Phillip? Better yet, why did you find me?"

"Because I think dying out in the middle of nowhere for no good reason is aggressively stupid. And if you were dead, I wanted my uniform back."

Shane rubbed the baldness of his head before letting out a small laugh. "Self preservation, is that all you care about?"

"Duh," Phillip's voice somewhat light hearted. "If you die out here, it would be a waste. You know that don't you?"

"Die out here, die anywhere else, you're still dead. What makes you think your situation is so sweet?" Shane was still suspicious of Phillip and Austin, all they cared about was their survival, so how does he factor into this?

"Austin and I are great as a team, but I'm getting the vibe that two people can't handle this. We've lasted this long but after tonight I know we can't do it alone."

"And the Mrs.?" Shane taunted. "He seems to have his own approach to our current situation."

"He thinks this world is just going to snap back together, I'm more of a realist. So are you coming back or not?"

"Not until I see the farm," challenged Shane. "If we go there and there's nothing there—then we can go. But before I go anywhere with you or him I want some answers."

Fair enough, Phillip was prepared for full disclosure. He had no problem talking about ATLAS but before he let his dark secret out, Phillip had his own questions. "My husband thinks certain data should still remain classified, I however do not. I will tell you everything you need to know about us, where we come from, what we're about—everything. But this confessional doesn't begin and end with me. Let's start with you: Who's Rick?"

Shane cut his eyes at Phillip; he had to start at the most sour of topics. "Fine, you wanna know, I'll tell you. Pull up your nylons, 'cause we're heading to the farm."