Melancholy

Disclaimer: I do not own the Walking Dead or Criminal Minds.

A/N: An idea I had, it's a Criminal Minds and TWD AU crossover with some Richonne goodness! Yep, that's a lot to take in, but please, give it a look. What I like about both shows is that even in the face of overwhelming darkness, those little moments of levity and hope shine through and I appreciate them more for it. I don't know if this will be well received, I wrote it mainly for my best mate who adores both shows. Also, I was tired and in a pretty dark mood when I wrote it, but I thought I might share. Anyways, here we go. Enjoy!

Warning: strong adult content; implied violence against children


It had already been a week since the young boy went missing, and Sheriff's Deputy Rick Grimes was beginning to feel his hope at finding the child alive slipping away. The King County Sheriff's Department was ill-equipped to deal with the disappearance of the boy, and because this was the fourth abduction that had happened in the past four months, he thought that they should get the FBI's Behavioural Analysis Unit involved. Rick sent a request through to the BAU's headquarters in Quantico, VA, detailing the abductions and the short timeframe in which they had occurred; he was convinced they had a serial on their hands. Four African American boys aged between 12 and 14 had gone missing from schoolyards and playgrounds; no remains had been discovered. The FBI had sent a team of profilers down to assist and the case was finally beginning to receive media coverage. The Sheriff's Department was inundated with people working around the clock; Rick Grimes was doing all that he could. While the FBI built their profile of the unknown subject, the Sheriff's Department focussed on casing the local area that they were familiar with; working on the tip line and doing much of the leg work.

"So," started Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan. "Four black kids go missing, and we've only just been called in now? Is that how things are done around here, in backwoods Georgia?"

"Morgan, it's a small Department. Officer Grimes seems like a decent man, I'm sure he tried, I'm sure they did all that they could. They're just not fitted out to deal with serial abductions. And besides, we're here now, let's make it count," said SSA Hotchner, fully aware that a lot of time had been wasted already. They knew that the likelihood of finding a child alive forty-eight hours after an abduction decreased. The fact that the unsub had taken three others since the first abduction could easily have meant that the other children were already dead. They had to focus their efforts on finding this young boy. Looking at the gap in between abductions, Hotch knew that they still had more time to find young Duane, the most recent child to go missing. If the unsub was abducting children at the start of the month, he had three or so weeks to hold them captive until the time he needed to grab another child. Hotch estimated that Duane had three weeks to live.

It was almost nine o'clock in the morning, and Rick Grimes still had not called his wife to let her know he would be late yet again that night. Their relationship was already strained to begin with, now that he was hardly ever home, it only proved to make things more difficult.

"Hey, Lori, it's me," he said tiredly into the telephone. "I'm gonna be late comin' home again tonight. I can't say too much, but there might be a break in the case, so it's all hands on deck."

"Okay," she answered quietly. "Guess we'll see you in the morning. Goodnight."

Before he could respond, the phone was already hung up.

Christ! He thought. She's angry at me again, can't seem to please anyone lately.

He couldn't understand what more she wanted from him; he was just trying to do his best, to do right by everyone. Rick felt like he was in a perpetual battle of trying to please people. His wife; his kids; the people of his County; his superiors; old Barry Rudd at the grocery store. Yes, he was neglecting his duties as a husband and father, but that was the cost of doing this job. If it were Carl missing, Rick would want to make sure that the authorities were doing all that they could to try to find his son. It was his duty to the people of the County; he had to give one hundred percent.

She smiled as she approached the weary looking man in front of her. Rick looked as if he had seen better days; his beard made his face look like it was losing the war. He was seated at a table in the conference room, sorting through case files with someone she only slightly recognized, they may have been introduced earlier in the day, she thought. Yes, they had met earlier; it was an FBI agent. He was a gangly looking white guy, maybe in his early thirties, unkempt hair, and kind of good looking if, you liked that sort of thing.

"Hey there," she said in a friendly tone.

Rick looked up and a smile came across his face.

"Oh, hey Michonne. How are ya?"

He took in her appearance; she was wearing a black suit with a mid-length skirt, heels and a blue blouse, her hair was tied back into a ponytail; ever the cosmopolitan professional, even in this small town. He could not help but admit she was a fine looking woman. He often felt guilty about his gratuitous attentions toward her. They were friends and colleagues and he was married. He felt guilty. She was just so…

"I'm well, thanks. You've looked better. I got your message, came straight over. What do you need me to do?"

Rick, still preoccupied with ogling Michonne, missed her question.

"Ah, sorry. What'd you say? It's been a long day."

She smiled at him and repeated her question.

"Oh, right. Well I'm following up on locations that Duane might have been taken to; need a judge to sign a warrant right now so we can check out the old Reynold's place down Cedar Road. Can you sort that for me? Please?"

She nodded.

"Of course, Rick. Whatever you need."

She then proceeded to reach into her bag, retrieve her cell phone and go through her contacts list. He twisted his wedding band on his finger as he watched her, she appeared completely confident that she would be able to help him; Rick could always rely on her, ever since she had moved to the County over two years ago to be closer to her ailing grandmother, she had been an excellent colleague and friend to him. Always trusted his judgement and somehow understood the weight that he carried being a parent and a professional officer of the law. Michonne pressed the phone to her ear, shot Rick another smile and began to speak.

"Hello, Amanda? So sorry for the late call. Is Judge Tarly available? Thank you..." she nodded to Rick and a relieved expression played on her face.

"Hi, Uncle Lawrence, it's Michonne."

…..

"You can pick the warrant up on the way. I hope you find what you're looking for. Gosh, I hope there's a break soon," she said, a sombre mood washing over her.

"Hey, thank you so much," he said in a hushed tone, weariness in his voice. "I appreciate it, really."

Rick stood and placed a hand on Michonne's shoulder: "I'll see you later."

With that, Rick grabbed his hat and rushed out of the room. Michonne felt some hope rising up inside her; they actually had a shot at finding the boy alive, the other three, she thought dismayed, were probably not so lucky.

"He likes you," came a voice, and it startled Michonne. It was the gangly profiler who had abruptly spoken.

"Excuse me?" was her reply.

"The Deputy, he's attracted to you."

"You sat there the whole time, not sayin' anything and then you just throw something like that out in the open?"

"Well, yes. You see, it's what I do. I observe people; I take notice of people, of their behaviour, it's a main feature of the behavioural sciences. I actually..."

"Reid. Seriously. Leave the lady alone," interrupted another man as he entered the conference room where they were sitting; a tall good looking black guy, another FBI agent, Michonne realized.

"I have to apologize for my colleague, ma'am. What Dr Reid lacks in social skills, he makes up for in socially awkward banter," he smirked and flashed her a bright smile. Michonne found herself chuckling and grinning back at him.

"I don't believe we've met. I'm SSA Derek Morgan, you can call me Derek," he said smoothly, as he offered his hand to her. She took it, showing him a coy grin that he found to be extremely adorable.

"Michonne. Pleased to meet you. I'm the County Prosecutor. Just came over to help Officer Grimes with something..."

"Well, he's a lucky man then," he said, giving Michonne the once over. She did not miss it.

Reid, watching the exchange rolled his eyes.

"Give it a rest, Morgan. Like I said, the Deputy is interested in her."

"Hold up," said Michonne, turning to Reid. "How can you know that? You know what, never mind. I am not having this conversation right now."

She began to feel a little flustered and confused at the way these obviously nice, but odd agents were behaving. She stood and began to walk toward the door.

"His wedding ring," said Dr Reid, causing her to stop in her tracks. "When he was talking to you, he was playing with his wedding ring. It means he is attracted to you, but he is reminded that he has a wife."

"Wow," said Michonne, astounded at the young man's frankness, and a little embarrassed that someone would point out what she had already suspected, that Rick Grimes did look at her differently and had some kind of interest in her. If she was being completely honest with herself, she did not mind.

"Thanks for that, Dr Reid, is it? It just made my evening very awkward."

At that, she laughed a little, bid them goodnight and headed home.

xXxXx

Rick Grimes and his partner Shane Walsh approached the old, decrepit house at the end of the eerily darkened Cedar Road. They had received a call to the tip line that evening, a voice at the other end stated that they had seen something strange at the premises, after paying an impromptu visit to check out some of the old wiring in the shed for the owner, an electrician had noticed that, on the clothesline out back, hung items of children's clothing. Boy's clothing, to be exact. Rick recalled Shane asking him yeah, so? What's so strange about that? What was indeed strange was that no one had actually lived at that house for over ten years. The owner still had the gas and electricity maintained, but no one lived there. No one wanted to live there, ever since they found that woman's body there all those years ago, but that was another story.

Rick led the way around to the backyard, and not surprisingly, there were no items on the clothesline at the present time. Both men had their side arms drawn in a precautionary manner. Shane walked up the back steps and tried the doorknob; it was unlocked, so, shining his flashlight, he made his way inside.

"King County Sheriff's Department!" he called into the darkened room.

No answer. He pointed for Rick to enter and, after doing so, Rick made his way through the kitchen and cracked the door to the living area open while Shane cleared the laundry room that was adjoining the small kitchen.

"Clear," Rick offered and Shane entered the room and cleared two tiny bedrooms side-by-side.

That was the entire house, small and cold. At first, the area looked like one would expect. Old furniture covered by dusty sheets, dark and almost ghostlike. It had a strange scent, like the smell from a rarely opened closet. They used their flashlights to scan the room. Once Rick and Shane's eyes had adjusted properly to the murkiness, what they saw next shocked them and forced the very breath from their bodies. Shane turned on one of the light switches that illuminated the room, just to be sure. Lined up on the floor, tucked neatly into white sheets were the remains of three children. Shane swore and cursed to the heavens above as he kicked one of the armchairs; Rick dropped to one knee and placed his face in his hands as he held back a feeling of nausea and sadness.

"I'll call it in," was all Shane could muster, as he walked by Rick and patted his shoulder.


A/N: Thanks for reading.