A/N: This story will contain content from both show and comic. Spitfire47

Disclaimer: I don't own the Walking Dead tv show or comic.

It was a joke – it had to be.

Leaning up against a thick Cedar Rick was held up with nothing, but a thin rope stopping him from plunging fifty feet to the rough ground.

He had to wake up – just wake up.

Rick muttered those two words feeling an emptiness inside of him build until pressure against his insides made him think that he was going to burst. His whole body still was numb with pain, day old blood made his clothes crackle with every movement, and the partially healed wounds kept reopening especially on his arm. The feeling in his chapped lips has long since gone making him wonder if he had died already.

Rick looked down to see a single Walker underneath him its legs were broken in several places so it crawled on its hands. One held its dead body up while the other gripped the tree bark. A sudden memory returned to the former sheriff, the one of the female who crawled over a single kilometre to go where? Anywhere…somewhere – possibly to die or to find food.

He felt a saddened emotion flow through him, but it wasn't like a gradual sense more like a crash – like a sudden torrential downpour. It slammed into his body making him flinch as if struck, it crashed into his mind causing him to stop thinking as a single memory played over and over as if stuck on replay. He tried to think about something else, but nothing came. His tears had dried up long ago, and no matter how much he tried to – none came. Rick waited for the anger to come, anger always came after sadness it was only normal. Oddly none came leaving him in a cloud of despair.

XXXXX

Sawyer wrapped his arms around his sister's shoulders, he gently stroked her blood stained hair. Dry tear stains streaked both children's faces, one hiccupped hysterically while the other tried to remain calm however he shook violently that his tremors shook the young girl.

"Leave…," the girl finally said, her voice hoarse from screaming.

Sawyer buried his face in her hair, tightening his grip on her refusing to let go. He immediately felt resistance as the girl tensed, trying to escape herself.

"Don't leave me," the boy suddenly cried, "I can't do this without you!"

She gave him a small grin, squeezed her eyes and then gasped as a wave of pain gripped her. Sawyer tried to hold onto whatever control he had left but seeing his youngest sibling like this broke him. He tried to find something to talk about, something to distract the pair from what was going on.

"I promised dad that I would care for you," Sawyer finally said taking in a deep breath.

There was no answer.

"And I'm going to…, whatever it takes."

Still no answer and Sawyer pressed a hand against his sister's chest; feeling nothing. The blood in his face drained along with the feeling in his body. His fingers trembled as he tried to get a grip on his sister's body, but it kept slipping as his hands grew more slick with blood. Giving up, Sawyer laid her carefully on the ground before looking up they were still alone no one to disturb them. As his eyes started to drift back to the girl, they stopped on a heavy looking rock. With one hand still on his sister, Sawyer reached over and picked it up. It was indeed heavy.

"Whatever it takes."

XXXXXX

Rick shuddered with pain, it came from his left side, throat and head. He had ripped apart his long sleeve to act as bandages, but blood soaked through. The former leader had found a small creek where he washed the strips as best he could then reapplied them but they absorbed just as easily. He did this a couple time while washing the wound with a smaller piece. It pained him as he did this process but soon his wounds grew numb from the cool water and he was able to tighten the flesh to max capacity without losing circulation. But it wasn't enough,

After the creek Rick had managed to walk a few kilometres, his Colt Python hitting his thigh gently with each step and the sun beat down on his unprotected head. His steps started to waver as a pounding migraine racked his brain. Rick decided he had to stop before he collapsed completely. Taking shelter underneath a tree, he let out a sigh of relief as soon as his back was pressed against the rough bark. Now he started to cry.

They seemed to rush out like a waterfall, and they seemed to never stop. Bringing his leg up to his chest, he buried his head in his knees feeling his jeans soak. As his heaves lessened he realized that this was possibly best, to die – shoot himself in the head, he had a gun after all. Rick slowly took out his pistol looking as the metal gleamed in the thin stream of sunlight.

Rick thought about Lori, his wife, his beautiful wife and in her arms is Carl, his son, the boy who wanted to grow up. Then he thought of all the people, the friends he had lost along the way and those who suffered along with him. From the people he saved in Woodbury, after a long time of non-violence to be caught in the middle of a dispute. But most of all – the Greenes, Hershel, Maggie and Beth having found refuge at their place while searching for Sophia and saving Carl. Being the good Samaritans they are and then having everything taken away from them. Finally there was Shane Walsh.

Rick snapped from his dazed state, as memories of his best friend dominated his mind. This time Rick let out a short cry of anguish, wondering what had happened – what went wrong with his friend. If they had gotten along then possibly they would've solved the issues better – but there can't be two leaders in a group; it's impossible.

He raised the gun it felt heavier than usual and gently placed it against his temple. Without warning it dropped out of his hand landing on the ground with a thud.

"God dammit!" Rick cursed aloud. "Can't I do anything fucking right?!"

There was a sudden low moan from behind him and the leader jumped up, whipped around and looked. It was a single Walker who came out from behind the tree and stumbled towards the lone survivor. Rick bent to grab his weapon that was no way to go. He stopped half-way to his gun thinking of those who died from being eaten alive. He tried to shake the names out of his head but he couldn't. With speed he picked up the weapon and unloaded the full chamber into the monster.

Its body whipped this way and that as if it was doing a grotesque dance with an imaginary partner. Rick let out another shout this time more pitched and strangled.

He fell to his knees and knelt in the dirt feeling empty and hollow. After a couple seconds he managed, with much effort, to compose himself and went back underneath the tree. Rick untied the bandages deeming them now useless since he has made up his mind.

Take it, he thought miserably. Just take it all.

The problem was that only one of his wounds was still bleeding, the others were all sealed. But Rick was too tired to open the other wounds, he just laid back allowing his body to relax as much as possible.

I'll see you soon Lori and Carl.

As Rick closed his eyes, he completely missed the small figure walking right towards him.

XXXXXX

The heat against Sawyer's face felt nice, he enjoyed the warm despite the already sweltering summer night. For some reason it made him feel comfortable in the presence of his half-dead leader. Sawyer quite admired the man when he first saw him back in Woodbury, he was charismatic and intelligent, knew how to command as well as acknowledge.

So to see him in this state was odd and a bit disturbing, with all the blood, bruises and cuts – Sawyer was surprised that his previous leader, the Governor, hadn't broken something. However when he saw Rick, the boy immediately thought of Carl and felt sadness. Sawyer and his sister had watched Carl die from the bushes before escaping, he had tried to shield her eyes but he couldn't move.

He watched Rick stir once in a while, that's why Sawyer kept the Colt Python close at hand just in case he did die.

It was a couple hours of sitting in silence when Sawyer heard a low moan he grabbed the pistol and stood. Calmly he walked over and placed the gun against the man's head. Rick opened his eyes and Sawyer saw that they weren't blood filled before Rick gained full consciousness the boy shoved the pistol into a belt loop.

"Um…," Sawyer briefly forgot the man's name. "…uh Rick…?"

"Hmm…?" Rick groaned.

"Are you okay?"

Rick closed his eyes and breathed. "Am I dead?"

"Um…no sir, you're still alive. I saved you."

Sawyer's words took a while to sink into Rick's mind, and as soon as they made connection, the former leader bolted up right nearly catching Sawyer in the face. He looked down at his hands, touching them and then his bandaged body. The bandages were strips of civvies tied together.

"They're all cleaned sir," Sawyer reassured, "there is a creek nearby a-."

"What have you done?"

Sawyer stopped. "Um…I'm sorry…?"

"What have you done?!"

Rick abruptly stood but immediately doubted over in pain. Sawyer scampered back out of the way clearly confused and scared.

"I'm sorry…," Sawyer shouted trying not to anger Rick more but couldn't help but say, "I don't understand."

Rick panted lightly from pain, his eyes casted a baleful look at the youth.

"I…I'm-."

"Save it!"

Sawyer's mouth snapped shut.

"Just…shut up."

The child looked at the adult, wondering what was happening.

Oh my god, he's going crazy, Sawyer panicked. He tried to think about what his mother would've done, she used to be a doctor at the local hospital. Delusion was a symptom of blood loss, as well as dehydration, starvation and many of other things including loss. The boy didn't know which one was worse.

"I…I don't know what to-."

"Just shut the fuck up!"

Rick then collapsed right on the spot, fell into a heap. Sawyer instinctively moved forward as if to catch him but he stopped himself. They sat and stood there in silence, ignoring the escalating heat and the faint moans echoing into the abandoned cabin.

"What have you done?"

The words were hollow and faint as if Rick spoke mostly to himself. Sawyer took a cautious step forward Rick turned his head just so that he could see the boy over his shoulder. Anger yet a hint of sadness were clear in his eye.

"What have you done?"