Kill him. He took your boy. Kill him. He killed Carl, killed your son. Carl, Carl, Carl...

Rick Grimes couldn't think straight. The sun was beating down on him unmercifully, the heat making him dizzy while his sudden inability to breathe rendered him utterly useless. He tried moving, he did, but his limbs were heavy and he didn't know why. He knew that the burning on his stomach was his son's blood was currently seeping out of his tiny body like a faucet, but he just couldn't think, couldn't move to stop it. He tried looking for the killer, the man with the gun, but the salty sweat and tears in his eyes blinded him. His ears were ringing, but somewhere he still heard Lori's wailing cries.

Carl, my boy, my son. Mine. Carl. Lori. Save Carl. Move.

He couldn't think. He needed to move. Blinking wildly, Rick was able to distinguish the outline of the man who'd shot his son. He was only a kid, only a little older then Glenn. Rick didn't care – he was going to kill him.

"What did you do..?" Rick whispered, voice thick with tears while he stood slowly. The kid, who at some point had been wielding a sniper rifle but had dropped it when Shane grabbed him, shook his head in denial. He was mortified, staring at the body of the eight-year old child he'd mistaken for one of the geeks. He'd shot a kid, an innocent kid... It was an accident, he tried to mumble, but the words wouldn't form when as he stared at all that blood and Rick wouldn't have listened anyways.

"Rick..." Shane warned, but didn't move to stop his partner when he lunged forth and grabbed the boy by his collar, slamming him up against the side of the abandoned vehicle repeatedly. Several of the other survivors watched in a mixture of terror and anxiousness, not knowing what to do. Lori was still screaming, a broken heap on the floor that Carol couldn't contain from crawling to the body of her son and sobbing brokenly over the tiny body, over the even tinier wound that would end her child's life. Shane stood by, watching between Lori and Rick helplessly.

"What did you do?" Rick screamed. He wasn't an officer anymore. He wasn't a good leader, or even a good father. He alone had made the choice that brought them to this place instead of Fort Benning, the choice that caused these people starve and would ultimately kill them all. He alone made the choice of taking his son to his grave. He had just been a man three weeks ago, looking for his wife and child, and who had succeeded...but the child had just been taken from him.

"I'm sorry, mister- I'm really sorry. I thought you was all-" The boy tried, but Rick was mad, insane with grief, and a swift punch in the face shut him up quickly enough.

"SORRY?" Rick screamed, spit flying while he reached for his holster, one hand on the boy's throat and forcing his eyes to bulge while his airway constricted painfully against Rick's hand. Pushing the barrel of his magnum into his cheek, he screamed again like a madman."DO YOU REALIZE WHAT YOU'VE DONE?"

He cocked the gun, pushing it hard against the kid's temple. He'd begun crying as well, just a pitiful whimpering that only fuelled Rick further. Ignoring Shane's urgent pleas in the background, he pressed harder. "I'll kill you, do you understand?" He hissed, the image of desperation and hell in his eyes. The boy squeezed his eyes shut, more tears rolling down his face to match Rick's. "I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!"

"RICK!" Shane cried, freezing him. "Rick, he's alive. Carl is alive!"

Rick didn't dare let go of the sonofabitch who'd shot his kid, but Shane's words were enough to get through his head and Rick loosened his grip to look back at him. His expression, previously enraged and hellish was wiped clean to show the pitiful hope and fear in his mind.

"He's still breathing, Rick. Carl's not dead!" Shane said, quieter while he stood with Lori, who was whispering to Carl and rocking his body in her arms. Her eyes still flowed with her tears of grief and terror, but wide with amazement and a sort of rare joy as she looked up at him. She couldn't speak, blood covering her clothes, but it stopped Rick's heart entirely. She'd never looked so beautiful to him, holding their son, their living child. Past her, he saw Carl's lips moving as if he was gasping in more air, confirming Shane's words. Rick dropped the boy on the ground, not bothering to watch him scramble away.

"C-c..." Was all he managed to get out. Shane gave a smile, but it was brief and faded as Carl gave a sick, lurching cough, his eyes squinting open before closing and he fell back in his mother's arms, unconscious. Rick was at his side at once, pushing past Shane and dropping to the ground beside his boy. His beautiful, perfect, living boy.

He...he had to do something.

"What do we do? What the hell do we do?" He whispered hoarsely, brushing back Carl's bangs and looking around at the survivors of his camp. Seemingly everyone was frozen, all of them staring in disbelief and looking away when their eye's met Rick's. No one wanted to see that look, that pain or fear from their would-be leader. It wasn't right.

"There's a first-aid kit in the RV," Dale Horvath mumbled, expression blank as a sheet of paper as he stared at the sight before him, before snapping into action and running into the RV at Shane's exasperated look.

"Wait..." Someone said, a raspy whisper that came from the back of the group. Rick's eyes fell once again on the man who'd shot his son, who now sat on his knee's and held a hand up defensively, blinking wildly. He'd wiped a few of the tears away, but they still kept coming. Instead, he looked even more like a child, backing away and standing shakily now that everyone's attention was on him. As if remembering, he pointed over the horizon, over the edge of the highway.

"Th-th..." He coughed before trying again, his hand trembling as he continued to point over the hill, his eyes flicking between Rick's and to whatever he was pointing at. He began again. "I- at the farm I live on...the guy that owns the place had a son shot in the foot. He got the bullet out, patched him up good. He works on the animals around the farm. He ain't no doctor, but h-he could help. Ain't even a mile away." He said weakly, watching as two of the men – Shane and Glenn, ran over to the side of the highway and peered over the edge.

It was a steep hill, with a few geeks here and there across the field...but sure enough, there was a house out there. If this kid was telling the truth, well...Carl might have a pretty good chance.

"I'll go..." Rick murmured quietly, gathering Carl up from Lori's arms and standing slowly, hoisting the small body against his as much as he could, looking out over the hill. Lori was still frozen momentarily, but stood up quick enough to look out there as well. Rick looked at her, and then to Shane. "You stay, take the cars back round when..."

"Otis," The kid offered, swallowing tightly at Rick's glance.

"Otis...comes back for you. And he will come back- it won't be long." He assured quietly, backing away and moving towards the area where the steel railing of the highway had been ripped down by a car. Otis followed ahead quickly enough, his gun in his hand now as he hopped over the railing and slid down the hill, glad to get away from these people.

"Rick!" Lori called, voice found at last, but it was too late. She shook Shane's hand off her shoulder and ran, with the rest of the group, to watch him disappear down the hill with Otis dead ahead of him, Rick carrying Carl in his arms and running with a strength and speed she didn't know he had. "RICK!"

She cried, not getting an answer. Her shaking breaths gave away to wracking sobs again, the momentary joy gone as she watched her husband and son disappear. She didn't even notice when Shane wrapped his arms around her, holding her to quiet her sobs.

Maggie Greene hated her hair.

Long and lustrously black as it was, healthy and shining as she managed to keep it even after the end of the world, she hated it. She scowled even to think of it as she exited the cattle pen and headed back towards the house, glaring at the ends just below her bust. She knew her hair wasn't the reason she felt what she felt, but it was as much to blame as anything. It was just...It was like she hadn't changed at all- like the world had managed to collapse around her, but she and her family remained the same. Shaun had died...but everything else was still. She was still.

And like she said. She hated it.

She was eighteen, maybe nineteen, she didn't remember the days anymore. Either way, now should have been the time of her life; she should be going to college, having fun with friends, making mistakes she could laugh at later, having fun with boys. Not still sitting at the family farm, feeding pigs and wasting the days away waiting for it all to get fixed. She knew nothing was going to change. If the government was coming for them, they would have by now, so she didn't hope too much for anything else. Just...something had to happen, and soon, or she'd go insane.

Puffing a sigh, she hopped up the front steps to the house, listening to their familiar squeak. Her little sisters Susie and Rachel were sitting on the chairs there, playing with a couple of their dolls. Rachel looked up as she passed, smiling at her favourite elder sister before glancing off at the horizon, her dimpled smile melting at once.

"Is that Otis?" She wondered, pulling off her glasses to clean them. Her sister looked up then, interested in the whereabouts of the most recent addition to their household. Maggie tensed, knowing better then to believe that Otis could be seen from here and that there must have been someone...something, else.

The family had needed to put down one of the sick animals recently so as to avoid an outbreak, a gun the most humane thing they'd had available on sight; the sound of the gunshot had gone out for miles, driving a few more walkers onto their property – and they all knew there would surely be more to follow. Otis, wanting to prove his worth to his neighbours, had offered to run up to the highway and distract any of the walkers who'd gotten up and started moving around up there, take them away from the house before slipping out under their notice. Maggie honestly wouldn't be surprised if the dumbass did something wrong and ended up leading a couple walkers out this way anyways, but she wasn't looking forward to dealing with more of them.

The three sisters stood on the porch then, similar green eyes squinting towards the distant horizon where – sure enough – there was a figure who's clumsy and ungainly running oddly resembled Otis'. Alas, as he came closer into view, another figure appeared behind him. Maggie figured this would be the walker. Just like she said – dumbass.

"What's he doing, leading it back here?" Rachel asked, obviously more ahead of her sister.

Susie, not getting it, took the opportunity to look at her twin with a confused expression. "Who?"

Not giving either girl a chance to speak further, Maggie turned and glanced down at her little sisters, smiling reassuringly at the ten-year-olds. "Girls, I want you to go inside and play. Stay in your rooms."

Susie, obviously the more defiant and out-going of the two, made a face as if preparing to make this an ordeal, but Rachel – her wiser, quieter twin – picked up an armful of her dollies and went into the house. Not wanting to be left out, Susie gathered her own toys and followed suit, both little girls slipping under Maggie's arm as she gripped the doorway, eyes once again on the horizon.

Only when they were perhaps a hundred meters away or so, a good deal closer then before and now with all the uncut fields out of the way, did Maggie notice the man falling behind Otis was not one of the walkers. And that, in fact, there were two following her idiotic roommate. And...they (meaning one of them) were running, and very much alive. Maggie's eyes widened, part of her foolishly thinking that this was the change she'd been looking for. But she shoved the thought away and ran into the house, shouting at the top of her lungs for her father.

"DADDY! COME SEE THIS!"

TBC...

SPOILERS + DISCLAIMER – This fan fiction is loosely based off the AMC Television series 'The Walking Dead' and the comic written by Robert Kirkman of the same name, and is written as a crossover between the two. Therefor, this continuing story may contain spoilers from the next season, and viewers should read at their own risk. I don't know what's going to happen, and this story is merely a work of my own imagination and assumptions for the next season. No one is forcing you to read it.

I do not own the Walking Dead, nor am I affiliated with AMC, Image or Robert Kirkman. The conversation between Rick and Otis belongs directly to The Walking Dead

I realized by the time I was editing this – naturally – that it actually isn't Carl that Rick is holding while he runs down the hill towards the house in the Season Two trailer (I'm thinking it was Sophia, Carol's daughter) but someone else. Now, in the comic, this IS Carl, but I know AMC's plans to do a lot differently, so I'm not sure if its him. Unless it's a different shot of Carl...Either way, I'll apologize if I'm wrong in October when we can all find out, but I just had to get this idea out of my mind. Plot bunnies were going crazy up there and I think I was in shock by the Dixon-love shown here. Just you wait, fangirls- he ain't here yet, but there's TONS of Dixon (Merle AND Daryl, although I seem to be the only fan of Merle...) love to come. Hehe...

Full summary: It's been three weeks and the Atlanta survivors are stranded - now out of food, fuel, and hope. Times are hard, too hard, and things are falling apart more then ever, but there are bigger problems to be dealt with. Rick, in the desperation to save his son, stumbles upon the Farm of Hershel Greene, and finds sanctuary for the people that have come to look up to him. Daryl/OC/Merle – Spoilers!

Pairings: Daryl/OC, Merle/OC, Glenn/Maggie, Rick/Lori, Carl/Sophia