A/N: Thanks for giving this story a chance. I'm not even sure what to say about this chapter. Don't hate me. Just remember my Richonne love is real.

Chapter 1: Back for the First Time
Rick
Monday

The pounding in his head felt like someone was using a jackhammer on a slab of concrete. The last time he could recall his head feeling like this was when he got drunk with a bunch of his classmates after they passed the Basic Jail Officer's Training course. He woke up on his front lawn in his boxers and half his head shaved and it was the last time he touched 80-proof tequila. He could count on one hand how many times he'd been drunk in his life because he didn't allow himself to lose control. It wasn't a good feeling and oftentimes he was needed as the level head in whatever group he was apart of. Control meant everything to him and with the guidance of his father and grandfather, made him the man he grew up to be.

He had been in a long sleep and could hear the voices in the distance telling him that he would be okay, that he needed to keep fighting, that they would be there when he woke up. He heard all those declarations of love for what seemed like a long time. It felt like he was listening to his own eulogy. Even though he answered them they kept saying the same things as if they couldn't hear his responses. He was screaming out to them but no one heard him.

And then he finally opened his eyes. The lights above were off but there was a lamp emitting a soft glow next to his bed on the nightstand which also had a vase of flowers and a bible. Unlike the flowers when he woke up calling for Shane, these were alive and full of color: purple, pink, and white. And then he remembered what happened after he woke up and called for Shane. He remembered being in a deserted hospital. No lights, no phones. No bodies, at least not living breathing ones. And he remembered those groaning sounds behind a chained set of doors as he walked down the hallway that seemed like an elaborate haunted house.

There were bodies covered in white sheets like he was on the set of some contagion movie and he expected to see men walking around in yellow hazmat suits. Walking through she streets of his town seeing nothing but destruction and death was a nightmare. The place he'd grown up and lived all of life was nothing more than a ghost town with cars in the middle of the road, lawns unkempt, and store front windows broken. When he arrived at his home, door open and belongings strewn about, silent and still, he tried to slap himself back to reality. It was different than how it was when he was there with his family. There was no sign of his wife or his son and no matter how many times he called out to them they didn't appear.

"Carl." He snatched the tubes from his nose. "Carl," he screamed louder. He continued to scream his son's name but he never appeared or even answered. He couldn't handle losing his son again. The idea of him being out there, somewhere, and not knowing where and not being able to get to him, see him, or touch him.

He looked at his surroundings. He was in what appeared to be a bedroom. To his right was a window. It was daylight outside. It appeared to be a nice day. He could see a blue sky and plenty of clouds through the open blinds. To his left was another twin bed and the door. There were a couple of chairs and two dressers. Above the empty bed was the letter B painted in black. He looked at the wall over his own bed and it had the letter A.

None of it made sense. He felt so disoriented he felt like he was in another world. Had he lost his family again? Waking up in a room alone was horrible déjà vu. He sat up on the side of the bed and swung his bare feet onto the wooden floor. It took him a couple of failed attempts before he managed to make it to his feet but not before knocking over the vase of flowers sending them to the floor with a loud crash.

He heard the sounds of people and footsteps then seconds later the door opened and a young woman with glasses rushed in and stood near his bed just a few feet from him. He backed away as far as he could until his back was against the wall. She didn't appear to have a weapon and there was someone coming up behind her; he was outnumbered. He searched for something to use to defend himself. He glanced out the window. He was on the second floor but he could manage to make that jump without breaking anything as long as he was careful.

"Rick, it's okay."

He knew that voice. That gentle, sweet southern voice that was like the sound of serenity. Her face appeared from behind the other woman and he realized it was Maggie.

"Maggie? What are you doing with her? Who is she?"

"Rick. Yes, it's me," she said as she walked over and stood next to him with her hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down. "Relax. Everything is okay. Why don't you get back in bed?"

"No, I need to find my family. Carl-"

"Carl is fine; he's in school and Judith is probably at daycare."

"School? Daycare?" He turned and looked out the window. He saw houses and people walking down a sidewalk. There was even a woman walking a dog on a leash. "This is a neighborhood? Where are we? Is the world normal again?" He turned and looked in Maggie's eyes desperate for her to confirm his hope. Could it be over? Did they put the world back? Jenner said there was no cure but hope was all he had, all that kept one foot in front of the other, all that made it possible to see another day.

"No, it's still the same."

"Why are we here? We need to get back to the prison."

Her face fell. "Rick, the prison is gone. We lost it a long time ago."

"I think I should check him out." The other woman moved closer to him.

He looked over at the stranger. "Who are you?"

"I'm Denise. The doctor."

The doctor? They hadn't had a doctor since they lost Dr. S. "Were you at the prison?"

"No."

"She took care of you while you were hurt." Maggie gently took hold of his arm. "Come on. Let's get you back in bed. Watch out for the glass."

"I'm...I'm sorry about that." He took slow, unsteady steps back to the bed.

"Don't worry about that. I'll take care of that." She pulled the sheet over his legs.

From the moment he saw her he knew Maggie was special. She was what it meant to be good and kind. It was why he didn't hesitate to tell Glenn to jump head first into a relationship with her. If there was anyone as genuine and pure as Glenn it was Maggie.

The sound of someone coming up the stairs made his heart race again. He searched the room for something, still not seeing anything to use as a weapon other than the lamp. Being unprepared was not who he was.

"That's daddy," Maggie said as she carefully picked up the pieces of glass and tossed them in the wastebasket by his bed.

"Hershel?"

"That's me," the old man said. He walked pretty fast and with no assistance from a crutch or cane and stood next to the bed.

"You're getting around pretty good."

He looked down at the mess on the floor Maggie was now cleaning with a towel. "Looks like I'm moving around better than you. You just need a bit of rest." He handed Rick a bottle of water.

He shook his head. "I need to see Carl."

"Maggie will go get him." He looked at his daughter with a nod. "Mags."

"Okay, daddy." She placed her hand on Rick's leg and gave it a squeeze before leaving. "I'll be right back with Carl."

"Let Denise have a look at you. She's a doctor. She knows what she's doing. You're safe here." Hershel gave Denise a nod.

"Thank you, Maggie," he said to her as she walked out. He turned his gaze to Hershel. "What happened? For a minute it was like when I woke up back home alone in a hospital. Was I bit? Shot again?" He surveyed his body. He had all his limbs. There were no bandages on him. Physically he felt fine. He just felt out of sorts, a bit confused.

"No. You fell and hit your head. You've been out for three days," Denise said as she shined a small light in his eyes. "You don't remember?"

He remained silent as he tried to make sense of that. He didn't remember falling. He was unconscious for three days? "How did I fall?"

Hershel stood at the foot of the bed. "You were out with Daryl on a run. You were being chased by walkers. You slipped and fell; hit your head on a large rock, knocked you out. Daryl carried you more than half a mile on a severely twisted ankle."

He trusted Daryl with his life and that wasn't just some saying because once again Daryl came through and saved his ass according to Hershel. He and Daryl made a great team back at the prison. They came a long way since their first meeting when they wanted to kill each other over Merle. He recalled the prison fights with The Governor and Daryl finding Merle and having to put him down. Daryl had lost just as much as anyone but he gained a lot, like trust and respect, by having Rick's back.

"Maggie said we lost the prison."

"You don't remember?" Hershel frowned.

He shook his head.

"Do you remember defeating The Governor and making a life at the prison?"

"Yes. You taught me how to be a farmer. We had a garden. Pigs. Horses. It was secure. Things were good. Better than they'd been in a long time."

Hershel taught him more than about farming. He was a godsend who helped him steer his boy on the right path when all seemed lost, when he himself was lost and didn't realize Carl needed the guidance that only he, his father, could provide. He was Rick's sounding board from the time his group arrived on his farm on everything from Shane to his family to how to deal with the pains of surviving.

"And after that?"

Rick thought for a moment of all the memories that quickly flashed in his mind. It felt like yesterday when they found the prison. He remembered Michonne's arrival. He remembered Andrea reuniting with the group and the others they brought in. He remembered the sickness that ran through the prison. But after that, nothing. He closed his eyes and tried hard to remember something. He looked up at Hershel and shook his head.

"The Governor showed up again with a tank and a new crew. Destroyed the walls and the prison. We had to run. Leave it all behind."

The idea of losing what they built seemed almost foreign. It had been so long since they struggled with outside forces. They took in The Governor's people from Woodbury. They brought back people from their runs. It was becoming a real community, even if it was at a prison.

"Did we lose anyone?"

"A few people. They were from Woodbury and other places."

"But our people are safe?"

"We lost some since the prison. Tyreese and Bob." He held his head down. "Beth."

"Hershel, I'm so sorry." He wanted to know how but that would be too morbid. He could find that out from anyone without making Hershel relive his daughter's death.

"Life is precious. We gained a few while we were out there, too. Abraham, Tara, Rosita, Eugene, and Father Gabriel."

They worked so hard to make that prison a home. They were safe. They were well-fed. It was a win for them after a string of so many losses. To lose it all was the harsh reality of this world. They took a step forward and always two back until the prison. They thought they finally had something. Something that resembled life. But this life, which was more like a nightmare, never stopped taking. To lose it all to The Governor made it worse. He wished he had killed him. Went out on runs with Michonne. He should have known The Governor would always harbor the need to exact revenge.

"Where is everyone?"

"Abraham runs the construction crew. They're building a greenhouse and a few other things. Maggie works with Deanna. She's the woman who was over this place. She was a U.S. Senator from Ohio."

"What does Daryl do?"

"Goes out on runs with Ben; they go out recruiting and looking for more people."

"Glenn?"

"Runs. What he's good at." Hershel smiled.

"Michonne?"

"I guess you'd call her a diplomat. She's out now at a council meeting with the other communities. We were expecting her yesterday but sometimes they stay an extra day. We didn't get phone service while you were out but that would be nice. Maybe you can work on that now that you're off vacation."

Hershel looked as if he would say more until they heard a commotion downstairs.

"Dad? Dad?"

He barely saw his son, just a flash of long hair before he was wrapped in his arms. "Dad. I'm so glad you're awake. I love you," he whispered in his ear.

"I love you too, son." He groaned a bit.

Carl pulled away. "Sorry. Are you hurt?"

"Just a little groggy and a bit sore but I'm alright. What happened to your eye?"

Carl frowned? "Are you serious?" He looked over at Hershel.

"Your father can't remember losing the prison or anything that happened after that, including what happened to your eye."

Carl looked back at his dad. "I was shot...again. In the face this time."

Rick couldn't hide the horror he knew his son saw on his face.

"I survived but not my eye. But I'm okay." He shrugged.

"Carl." He didn't know what to say.

"I've already worked through it." He shrugged.

And he didn't want to do it again. "Okay." He bit his bottom lip for a moment. "Look at you. You're so big." His son was more like a man than a child. "And you need a haircut."

"Dad, it's only been three days." He laughed then abruptly stopped. "An entire year. You don't remember Terminus? And Father Gabriel? And that night in the barn and when Aaron found us?"

He shook his head.

"Do you know we're in Virginia now?"

He looked around the room. "Virginia? Why did we leave Georgia?"

"Long story. I'll tell you later," Carl said.

"Well, he's not leaving so you've got time," Denise said.

"I feel okay."

"You stumbled to stay on your feet."

"I've been lying down for three days. Doesn't mean anything." He grumbled. He hated being sick before the world went to shit and he had even less interest in lying in bed now, especially when he didn't know his surroundings. He needed to see the layout of this new place, look for weak points, see what supplies they needed. See who was around his family.

"You seem to have a touch of amnesia. I'd say that means something. One more day and then we'll see about you going home. I'm going to make my rounds."

"Your rounds?"

"We have a few other patients. Two others. Nothing as serious as you."

"What is this place?"

"You're in the infirmary. A house," she said with a nod and roll of her eyes, "But we made it the infirmary. Three bedrooms up here. Six beds. Space downstairs for two more patients if necessary. And I sleep in the bedroom downstairs. I'll check on you in a couple of hours." She walked out of the room.

"We'll give you two some time." Hershel followed Maggie out of the bedroom and closed the door behind him.

"How many people live at this place?"

"About sixty."

"Sixty?" This place had to be big, spread out, even more reason for him to get out of this bed.

"Yeah, soon to be one more. My teacher, Ms. Qari, she's pregnant."

"How are these people?"

"They're all nice. They were clueless. Been living behind these walls from the beginning and didn't know how to fight but we taught them." Carl smiled. "Thanks to you."

"No threats in here?"

"No." He shrugged. "A few trouble makers who didn't want to make changes but they fell in line."

"So you're in school?"

Carl grunted. "Yeah. I'm glad you woke up. Got me out of Trigonometry. I don't know how that's going to help me." He rolled his eyes.

Rick did remember enough to know this wasn't the little kid back in the day who loved math and science and dreamed of being an astronaut.

"School? Babies? Tell me more about this place."

As Carl told him about the walls, homes with running water, food cooked on stoves and in ovens, and washing machines it felt even more bizarre than waking up to dead people walking around. He became use to the dead. Did he get used to once again being around the living? Being in this place? In a civilized way?

"Rick, oh my God. I'm so glad you're okay." Lori walked into his room with a baby in her arms. "Maggie told me you woke up and I went to get Judith and came right over." She sat in the chair Carl vacated for her and let out a long sigh of relief. "Thank God."

"Is...is that Judith?"

"Yes. You want to hold her?"

He nodded and immediately kissed her head and held her close once she was in his arms. "Wow, she's gotten so big. And she looks just like you," he said and looked over at Carl.

"Really?"

"Yeah, really."

"You said that when she was first born too."

"It was true then and it's true now." He looked over at Lori. "Do we still have the family photo albums?"

"Yep," she said with a nod. "I look through them almost every day. I'll bring them to you. Maybe it'll jog your memory. Maggie said something about amnesia."

"Not unless there are pictures from the last year. That's what I don't remember. Carl was telling me a little bit. About this place...Alexandria and the people."

She had a sad smile on her face and he knew that somehow he was responsible for that. She held her head down and softly spoke. "What else did he tell you?"

"Carl, take Judith downstairs so your mom and I can talk."

Carl frowned slightly but he didn't hesitate. After all this time of not talking to Lori, it was probably strange to him that Rick wanted to be alone with Lori. That he wanted to talk to her. He had enough of his memory to remember not communicating with her for quite some time. They moved in their own circles back at the prison. Was it the same here? There was no reason to believe otherwise.

Once they no longer heard his footsteps they looked at each other.

"Rick?" She leaned forward in the chair. "What is it? What do you need?"

"How have you been?"

"I've been worried sick about you. Carl has been thinking the worst, that you wouldn't wake up."

"Other than that. You. Are you okay?"

"I don't know what you mean," she said in a voice so faint it could only be heard in a room silenced by the weight of a lot of hurt.

"Why don't you fill me in on the stuff Carl didn't mention."

"Like what?"

"I have a feeling you and I are still not okay. And I have a feeling that's my fault."

She shrugged. "It was your decision. I didn't like it. But I didn't have a choice."

"Don't hate me."

"I don't hate you. I love you. I just don't like you." She gave him a small smile.

He smiled too. It was a joke they always said when they were younger and had an argument that they actually tried to resolve. In their later years they didn't bother to fix things, they just moved on once the anger subsided, pretending it didn't happen.

"I don't remember losing the prison or anything after that. I don't remember finding this place. I don't remember living here."

"You don't remember anything about our lives here?" She frowned.

"No. But I remember a lot of things before."

"I don't know how to make that right. I don't know if I ever can. But I want you to know that if I could I would. I'd do anything to make up for it." She ran her hand up and down her thighs.

"Anything?"

"Anything."

"Give me another chance."

She looked up at him, eyes wide with wonder. "What?"

This was the woman he fell in love with all those years ago. She was the girl who loved the $2.00 stuffed animal he won her at the carnival as if it actually cost the fifty bucks it cost him to win it for her. She was the one who told him they were having a baby by cooking a themed meal of baby back ribs, baby potatoes, baby corn and for dessert, a pink and a blue cupcake. She was the wife and mother who tried to make pancakes each Sunday because she wanted them to be the kind of family that created their own traditions. The woman who insisted they drive Carl around during the Christmas holiday to see the lights and decorations. The woman who, after all this time of pushing her away and being cold even when he didn't want to, didn't hesitate to come to his bedside when he needed her.

"I know we've had a hard time," he said as he placed his hand against her cheek. "I know a lot of it was my fault."

She shook her head. "No. It was all my fault. I crossed a line that I never should have crossed even if you were dead."

So many times he conveyed the same to her but they never got anywhere because she insisted that thinking he was dead made her decision understandable and acceptable. In his mind, she never acknowledged his hurt no matter how her time with Shane came about; she stayed in defense mode instead of thinking of how it affected him. Now that she said it and now that he was no longer angry maybe they could move forward. Maybe it would be easier to fall in love all over again. He never stopped caring about her but he did find it hard to connect with her intimately and not just physically but emotionally as well.

"It's time to put that behind us. I forgive you for what happened with Shane. That doesn't matter anymore. I hope you can forgive me for the way I treated you."

"Rick, what are you saying?" She never stop holding his hand and squeezed it tighter.

"Life is short. Life is precious. We should try." He nodded his head almost as if he had convinced himself at that moment. But the idea of them rekindling what they once had wasn't a new thought for him. Even at their worst, when he refused to speak to her and slept in a separate cell, he still wanted his marriage to work. He just didn't know how to put it back together again but he wanted it. "We should try."

"You want us to be a family again? You, me, Carl, and Judith?"

"You were right; it's time to get the house in order."

Her eyes widened. "Baby, you've just made me the happiest person in the world." She smiled at him.

He smiled back, feeling like he had a new chance at life. A chance to finally make things right.

A/N: Makennas Hunter, Michonne makes her entrance next chapter.