Chapter Four

Lori wasn't sure what to expect when she arrived at the hospital after receiving the phone call she'd been hoping for and dreading for nearly a month. She had hoped Rick would wake up, had prayed for him to survive, even if she knew he would be angry, especially if he found out about her and Shane. Beside her, Carl was silent, his visible blue eye cold as he surveyed his surroundings. She'd forced him to shower before they left, and to leave his gun at home, but he'd slipped a knife into the waistband of his pants thinking she hadn't noticed.

She had and she couldn't help but wonder what had happened to him over night that seemed to turn him into the weary, world-worn creature that he was.

"Mrs. Grimes?" Dr. Richards called disrupting her thoughts and she turned, noting how Carl had tensed at his approach, eye darkening to watch the man wearily.

The doctor, himself, had a worn expression on his face, his green eyes perturbed, an expression she rarely saw on the young man's face.

"Adrian. Is he alright? You said he woke up?"

He nodded seriously. "He did. However, he was sedated shortly after because he tried to attack the nurse that changed his IV. I believe he was highly disoriented, however he will be waking soon if you would like to be there with him."

Lori nodded and he led her into the room.

She stilled, catching sight of the man in the bed.

Long dark curls fell to broad shoulders, slim frame clad in jeans and a white t-shirt, eyes rimmed red and lined with stress even in rest…this man couldn't be her husband.

Her Rick.

The door closing behind her, caused her to turn to Dr. Richards, her eyes wide and confused.

"Adrian?"

"That is Rick Grimes, Lori. If it's anything like my own morning, then he is three years older than he should be."

Beside her, Carl's gaze snapped from his father's prone form to pin the doctor in place.

"How do you know that?" He asked, suspicion lacing his words and Adrian let out a weary laugh.

"I'm assuming you followed them, considering you didn't look like that when I saw you a few days ago. Fuck…"

"I believe he asked a question." Rumbled a dark voice and the trio turned back to the man on the bed to find him watching them, blue eye weary and dangerous.

"I woke up to my boyfriend expecting someone else and his looking much older than he should. According to him I died in the beginning of the end."

Rick snorted.

"Be thankful. There are worse ways to live." He looked at Carl, avoiding Lori's gaze all together.

"Where's Judith."

The teen's face crumbled. "She was with Daryl, since we weren't sure…" Rick nodded, reaching for his son. To his surprise, the teen stepped into his arms, shaking slightly.

"Sh, he's alright. If nothing, Daryl is a fighter, son. He'd live just to prove to Negan that he could."

Carl laughed roughly, his grip on the older man tightening.

"I know. I know. But he was screaming and it won't stop." He whispered brokenly and Rick closed his eyes, pained.

"I know." He replied and Lori swallowed thickly.

What had her boys gone through in their future? What was so horrible that her baby was this broken jaded boy and her husband was a dangerous weary man, his body tense like a cornered wounded animal? What had happened to her family?

Adrian's green eyes softened as he saw the turbulent emotions in the eyes of Lori Grimes, his own heart aching for the father and son duo in the hospital bed. Was this the future Paul had spoken of? A future when children are broken and hungry, where they are faced with death and agony beyond their years?

If it was, he couldn't help but think that it was good that the survivors had been brought back to a time before it all. Maybe, they would heal if only just a little bit.


"Mama! Mama, I'm home!"

Dark eyes shot open as a heart wrenchingly familiar voice rang out around their owner, the woman's heart stilling in her chest.

Joshua.

Her baby boy.

He'd been with her ex-husband when he died and it had shattered her when she'd gone to check on them to find the man as walker, elbow deep in their son's insides.

Her ex-husband had been her first kill and to this day she never regretted it.

He'd stolen her baby from her.

"Mama!" The voice called again and tears welled in her eyes as she sat up, body tensing when she realized she wasn't in the room that she'd fallen asleep in.

She was in her old bedroom, the walls a soft cream color, accented with dark blue borders. The spot beside her, where Rick should've been, was cold, as if he hadn't been there and she ached.

Dark dreadlocks fell into her face and she pushed them away, jolting when the door to her bedroom flew open, a small blur tackling her.

Smooth mocha skin, wide innocent brown eyes, small lips twisted into an adorable pout, her son was alive and safe in her arms and she smiled.

"Why weren't you answering me, mama?"

"I was asleep." She lied and he nodded sagely.

"Sleep is important." He lectured and she let out a broken laugh, nuzzling his soft dark hair.

"I know, baby." A tear slid down her cheek. "I know."

Thin arms wrapped around her and the seven-year-old smiled at her. She forced a smile back, knowing the second she left his sight that she would fall apart.

She had regained her son…but her family was gone.


Glenn jolted awake with a hoarse cry as his alarm sounded, the shrill ringing so remnant of his brother's screams that he nearly broke down crying.

Tears streamed down his sweat slicked cheeks and he knew if Daryl was awake he'd tell him to stop "all that pansy ass cryin'", but he couldn't help it. Daryl was his best friend, his brother in all but blood, and he was the only one in the camp that had known about Daryl and Jesus' relationship. To hear the man that he looked up to sound so broken as he took hit after hit for their family…it hurt.

It hurt worse than anything he'd ever felt.

The sickening squelch of Negan's bat hitting Daryl's flesh melded with the screams ringing in his ears and he whimpered, holding his hands over his ears as if to block it all out.

Maggie.

Maggie would make it better.

He looked beside him where his wife should be and froze in confusion.

This wasn't their bed.

Their bed didn't have red and black deadpool sheets. Their room wasn't covered in band posters and movie posters. But his room was. His room from before.

His breathing sped up and he removed his hands from his ears to grip the sheets on his bed as if they would ground him, dark eyes wide in panic.

Where was he?

Whenwas he?

And where was his wife?

His family?

TBC…