Chapter 1: In Your Head

Rick Grimes pinched his nose. She knew this likely meant, and began rubbing his shoulders, intertwined with kisses.

"No, I just can't."

She sighed, and rolled over to the other side of the bed.

"It's bad enough you stopped to pick up the phone. What was it?"

"They want me go over to Sgt. Ford's house."

"Can't Daryl or Shane go? Why do you have to always go when something happens?" She rested on her elbows now, knowing in her heart the lovemaking session had evaporated.

He stopped rubbing to turn around from his position at the edge of the bed. He stared at her questioningly for 20 seconds. "Lori, I am this town." She responded with rolling eyes. "Babe, you know this." He affectionately kissed her shoulder as she turned her back.

"So you want to continue this before you go?"

"No," he began walking to the master bathroom. "Try waiting up for me?"

Her eyes batted. She did not answer and he didn't wait for the response.

"Bout time yo' ass showed out," Shane declared. He stood in front of the ranch-style mansion, inhaling his cigarette.

"What are you doing here," inquired Rick. "I was on my way you know."

Shane rubbed his head. "Yea, well Rhee and his people heard you weren't here yet."

"Shiiiit! Let's just get this going. What's going on here?"

"Well," Shane opened the door to the crime scene. "It ain't lookin' pretty." They walked through the outdoorsmen looking living room to walk up the stairs. "I know me 'n' you never seen anything like this before, so be ready to not be ready. The upstairs hallway had more of a feminine touch; family portraits adorned the well-lit hall. "I used to say this lady shoulda came my way." He opened the master bedroom door. "And lookin at this, she shoulda given yo' ol' boy a chance.

On the floor lay what was Hollie Ford. Her blonde head was separated from the rest of her body. The distance between what was once one spanned the width of the giant room. A blood trail lay in between the body parts, and even her abdomen was not left untouched. Her intestines were sprawled and nearly touched her bed.

Rick's instinctively cupped his mouth.

"Down the hall to the left," informed Shane.

It wasn't hard to cuff Abraham Ford. He was the one who called 911. He sat on his couch and awaited the officials' arrival. His witty banter left his soul. All he wanted to do was to wake up from this nightmare. The yells and threats from Officers Dixon and Walsh were background noises. They weren't going to kill him, so what did it matter?

"I want my lawyer."

They shut up. Behind the mirror were Rick and D.A. Glenn Rhee. They both sighed when he said this.

"I don't care what the prick does, that sick asshole is going down," prophesized Glenn.

"It just doesn't make any kind of sense," pondered the sheriff.

Glenn sniffed. "He's not the first veteran who lost his mind. No one ever believed me when I used to say that soldiers have PTSD."

"Yea, but that was pretty damn gruesome."

The DA shook his head at the thought. "Well, no matter what, we have to get his lawyer. This man has money. I'm looking forward to some golden laced bullshit for his defense."

Rick later informed Daryl and Shane that he'd handle the interrogation. If he was "the police", then he'd better be ready to interrogate someone while a rich lawyer was there.

While waiting, he received a text from Lori. Just found out Shane went to the crime scene. You could have stayed home. How much do you really care about me, if it's so easy to leave me?

His face soured. He wished she would understand how much he loved her, but the need to fight over what didn't need to be fought about killed him.

After a few hours, the lawyer finally made their appearance. The precinct echoed the click clack of her Louis Vuittons stomped through. Other noises were made as many pens dropped. The steps stopped in front of Rick's desk, whose eyes still focused on the frustrating essay/texts that Lori continuously sent.

"Excuse me," she intruded.

The sheriff looked up to the woman with flawless skin, hair wrapped in a bun, wide brown eyes. He was taken back, and momentarily forgot his purpose for being at work at this God forsaken time.

"Uh, yes, how can I help you."

"Ford, Abraham Ford. I'm here for my client."

"Yes ma'am, right this way." He jumped out of his seat to lead the way. He had to remind himself that she was the enemy, and there couldn't be many pleasantries between them. He opened the door and received nothing but a cold nod as a thanks.

The interview did not go well at all. At least not for Rick. It seemed that attorney Michonne Gibson could read his every thought. There was no progress. All he could say was that the accused called 911 and waited to be arrested. That said nothing, and made him feel weak as a leader. This Gibson character struck him down without a thought. She didn't seem to be from around here in King's County. She didn't seem to be from the South either. Who was she? Was it her who smelled so good.

Rick's eyes closed tight as he tried to focus on writing his report. The DA was going to be pissed, and Abraham's savvy attorney would likely and effectively fight for bail. Shane was right, he wasn't ready for this.

He drank some coffee as he walked up to Daryl's desk.

"You have anythang else on this Ford case?"

"Well," Daryl began, "he was probably screwin' around."

"Is that so?"

"Ever heard of Rosita Espinosa?"

Rick scratched his head. "No."

"She's a Playboy bunny. Did this spread back in April…whew boy!" Rick glared at him. "Yea, well, anyway, rumor has it that they've been fuckin'."

Rick expected Lori to still be in bed by the time he got home at 5am. That or cooking. She didn't work… He was planning to crawl into that bed and make up for their interruption, sex her enough so that the thoughts of Hollie's body could drift out of his mind. So that the sexiness of how M. Gibson crossed and uncrossed her legs would fade away into how beautiful his wife was. Instead, he came home to seeing her packing his bags. As she continued to attempt to get a rise out of him, he marched into bed and slept with one hand on his dick.