AN: This is a very important chapter—please read closely and consider the points brought up at the end of the chapter.

Chapter 9

He was running. He was scared. He was frantic. He emerged from room 450, begging for help. He latched onto a nurse's shoulder, desperately seeking her help. She slapped his hand away, running down the hallway with the military.

Sirens wailed, and gunshots went off. The man was Shane Walsh. He swore out loud, sprinting through the halls. A helicopter zoomed above the hospital.

Shane grabbed a gurney. He froze in horror as he watched the military gun patients down. Blood stained the walls, the bullets made holes. There were ear-shattering screams.

Suddenly, the doors of the cafeteria behind them burst open, reigning out Walkers in packs. They latched onto the soldiers, biting through their clothing and into their flesh. The lights were shot out of the ceiling on account of forced misfire.

There were more gunshots as Shane backed up with the gurney, rushing it into room 450. He panted as he slammed the doors open, rushing to the comatose Rick Grimes.

"I'm gonna get you out of here," he said as he pulled the blankets away. He tried to lift the man up, only to drop him as he caught sight of the heart monitor looming above.

The helicopter passed over the room. "Okay," Shane panted. "Okay…"

He rushed to the monitors, searching for a way to dislocate his best friend from the machines. "What do I do…?"

The door opened, and Shane lurched to the ground, hiding under the bed as a soldier entered, aiming his gun at Rick.

"Come on, Corporal," another soldier barked at him. "Move out!"

Shane pounded the ground. "Listen to me," he sobbed. "If you're gonna wake up, I need you to do it now. Please—just show me a sign! Please Rick—"

The explosion interrupted the man, rocking the hospital. And then, the heart monitor shut off. Debris fell from the ceiling, covering the floor with a thin white powder.

Shane stopped breathing. He lurched over his friend, pressing his ear against his chest. There was nothing. The man broke down, sobbing into Rick's chest.

The group stumbled inside of the entrance of the CDC, gazing around with wide eyes.

"Hello?" Rick called. "Hello…?"

"Close those doors and watch for Walkers," Dale said.

"Hello?"

A gun cocked from the shadows, aiming at the group. The men pointed guns right back at a tall blonde man in dirty clothing. "Anybody infected?" he demanded.

"One of our group was," Rick said. "He didn't make it."

"Why are you here—what do you want?"

"A chance," the sheriff replied.

"That's asking an awful lot these days," the doctor spat. He lowered his gun, but kept it in the direction of the living.

"I know it is," Rick said.

There was a silence as the doctor surveyed the group. He saw frightened children, uneasy women, and even terrified men. He felt sympathetic. He knew he needed to help these people, but he could barely help himself.

"You all submit to a blood test," he said. "That's the price of admission."

"We can do that."

The doctor's arms faltered. He pointed to the doors. "If you have stuff to bring, get them now," he ordered. "Once this door closes, it stays closed."

The group took off, sprinted back to the vehicles. The vehicles shook as the living rooted through them, gathering what little possessions they still held dear.

Many in the group were skeptical of the doctor—the others were just happy to have found shelter.

Back inside, the doors were shut. "Vi," the doctor said. "Seal the main entrance. Kill the power up here."

The metal barriers wrapped around the glass doors, shrouding the room in darkness. A few emergency lights flickered on.

Rick extended his hand to the doctor. "Rick Grimes."

The blonde grasped the flesh. "Doctor Edwin Jenner," he told the leader.

And so began life in the CDC. Jenner led the group to a large metal elevator at the end of the room. Over a dozen people crowded the space, giving off an eerie feeling of the walls closing in. But in reality, the walls did not budge.

"Doctors always go around packing heat like that?" Daryl questioned, tilting his head at the doctor's gun. It was a rather large firearm—it seemed too large for the doctor to hold for long without falling over in fatigue.

"There were plenty left lying around," he explained. "I familiarized myself. You all look harmless enough though—you have nothing to worry.

"Except you," Jenner said to the sheriff's son, smiling down at the boy. "I'll have to keep my eye on you."

The boy grinned, tugging on his mother's shirt. Jenner chuckled as the elevator came to a halt, and the vast doors swung open. The group filtered into a long corridor, resembling that of a hospital. They followed the doctor.

"Are we underground?" Carol asked.

Jenner turned towards her. "Are you claustrophobic?" he inquired.

"A little…"

"Try not to think about it," Jenner said. He took the group into the central lab. "Vi, bring up the lights in the big room."

There was a soft hum mating with a violent beeping as the lights blasted open, lighting the room up like a pumpkin. The room was filled with computers, all shut off, and a rather enormous screen wired to a flat wall.

"Welcome to Zone Five," Jenner announced.

"Where is everybody?" Rick asked. "The other doctors? The staff?"

"I'm it. It's just me here," the doctor sighed.

"What about the person you were speaking with?" Lori asked. "Vi?"

Jenner gave her a sad smile. "Vi, say hello to our guests," he called to nothing. "Tell them…welcome."

"Hello, guests," a computerized voice announced, utterly monotone. The group glanced around each other, both curious and frantic. "Welcome…"

"I'm all that's left," the doctor said. "I'm sorry… Now, if you'll follow me, we'll get those blood samples taken care of."

XXX

The blood samples passed smoothly. It was only after that, while the group feasted, enjoyment had sparked. Alcohol was served with pasta and a white sauce, making the adults beam with happiness.

"Why don't you let Carl try some?" Leah said, indicating towards the alcohol. "The world's ended, so why not let him."

Lori smiled. "I don't think so."

"Y'know," Dale said as he poured the woman a glass of red wine. "In Italy, children have a little bit of wine with dinner. And in France."

Lori took the glass from him. "Yeah, well when Carl is in Italy or France, he may have some then," she told him.

Rick flashed Leah a grin before turning to his wife. "What's it gonna hurt?" he asked. "Come on."

Dale chuckled, pouring a small shot into a plastic cup. "Here you are, young man."

Carl's eye's beamed with joy. He chugged the red liquid, instantly recoiling and slamming the glass down. "Eww…"

The adults roared with more laughter at the child's reaction. "That's my boy," Lori said. "That's my boy."

"How can you call me your aunt if you can't even stand alcohol?" Leah joked.

"It tastes nasty," he told his aunt.

"You'll adapt," she said as she sipped from her own.

"Best stay to soda pop," Shane smirked.

Daryl looked at the Korean. "Not you, Glenn."

"What?" he questioned with a grin as he juggled his bottle of beer. It was strange for him to drink.

"Keep drinking, little man," he said as he got in his face. "I want to see how red your face can get!"

The men cackled. "You're a cop," Leah said at Rick's side with a grin. "What does one so mighty have to say about all this peer pressure, huh?"

Rick took another bite of pasta. "I say to drink away."

"Drink away it is."

But it was then; a serious look appeared on the sheriff's face as he gazed past Leah. "What is it?" she asked.

His head bobbed towards Jenner. She looked at the doctor too. The man was clearly upset. Rick stood up, rapping his fork on his glass. He stood up, gathering everyone's attention.

"It seems to me we haven't thanked our host properly," he said.

T-Dog smirked. "He is more than just our host."

"Hear hear!"

"Here's to you, doc," another member said.

Daryl tilted his bottle of whiskey. "Booyah!" he shouted.

"Booyah!" the group sang.

"Thank you," Rick said. "Thank you, Doctor."

Shane felt agitated. He felt like the only sane—the only intelligent human among the flood of ignorance. "So when are you gonna tell us what the hell really happened here, doc?" he demanded. "All the other doctors. Weren't they supposed to be sorting this whole mess out? Where are they?"

"We're celebrating, Shane," Rick warned. "Don't start."

"Wait a second," the man snapped. "That's why we're here, right? This was your move—supposed to find all the answers. Instead, we found him."

All eyes flew to Jenner. The doctor shrank in his seat. "One man. Why?"

The doctor cleared his throat. "Well, when things went bad, a lot of people just left," he explained. "They went off to be with their families. When things got worse—when the military cordon got overrun—the rest bolted."

Shane smirked. "Every last one?"

Jenner shook his head. "Many couldn't face walking out the door. They… opted out. There was a rash of suicides… That was a bad time."

"You didn't leave," Andrea stated. "Why?"

"I just kept working," he told her. "I was… Hoping to do some good."

Andrea frowned. Glenn glared at Shane. "Dude," he snapped. "You are such a buzzkill…"

XXX

The partially empty whiskey bottle set clutched in Leah's hand, spinning inside each time she rolled her wrist. The cot beneath her felt stiff—like a cardboard slab with a burlap sack thrown over it. Cold air rushed through the room, blasting from the air conditioners above her head. She bunked with Glenn, but he was busy having drinking contests with Daryl. She knew she wouldn't be seeing him for the remainder of the night. She spent the better part of twenty minutes passed out in the shower once they had settled in.

A knock came from the door—a simple rapping of knuckles. Standing up, Leah set her bottle down on the floor, padding over to the only thing protecting her from the outside. Turning the knob, she pulled the door open.

"Rick?" she asked as the man stood in the doorway, holding a bottle of wine and two glasses. "Rick—what are you doing in here?"

"I wanted to talk to you."

Leah furled her brow, shutting the door as he attempted to enter. He stuck his foot out, bracing the door. "About what?"

He smiled a little—not in an evil way, but friendly, it seemed. "Oh… I thought… We could talk about your life," he suggested, pausing. "Can I come in?'

"I don't know, Rick," she said, nervously. "I don't know if I can tell you…"

His smile faded, but it seemed to have lingered on his face. "Can I still come in?"

Leah sighed, running her hand through her damp hair. "Yeah."

He entered, closing the door. "Are you okay?" he asked her.

"Yeah. I'm fine—just a little tired."

He grabbed her wrist gently. "Who was in that picture you found?"

"My sister."

"I didn't know you had a sister."

How could he not know? Leah was shocked as it was that Lori refrained from telling him of Emma's existence. No, she was responsible for the child's death—so why should she say anything.

"And a niece—but she's dead."

"I'm sorry," Rick told her, earnestly. "How did she die?"

"Rick..."

"Leah," he urged, letting go of her wrist to uncork the wine and pour it into two glasses. He handed her the first glass.

"It's a long story," she insisted.

"That's what this talk is for, right?" it was a rhetorical question he had stated. "We've got plenty of time."

He sat down on the cot, patting the empty space beside him. "You haven't told me, but others seem to know. You said that when the time came, you would. On top of it, Lori doesn't trust you."

She wouldn't tell them about the affair. "Your wife just… We have a mutual understanding of each other—it isn't anything to worry about, just that it's complicated."

He gripped her shoulder. "How?" the man asked.

"This isn't the time," she insisted, brushing his hand away.

He ran his hands over his face, turning to leave.

"Rick?" Leah sprung up. "I'm sorry, but I don't trust you enough to tell you."

"You saved my life back in Atlanta," Rick concurred.

"But that was different…"

"How?"

She had no response. How was it really different? She sat back down on the cot. "Glenn was the one that made the call to save you, not me."

"But you helped."

"Hardly."

He was back, holding her arm once again. "What will it take for you to trust me?"

She hesitated. "To know that after I tell you the truth—the honest to God truth—, you won't kick me out of the group."

"If you're dangerous…"

"Please, Rick."

He sighed, nodding slowly. He seemed uneasy, though. "I'll think about it—"

"No," she insisted. "It has to be a straight up answer."

Rick looked at the bare wall, sighing again. "Okay. I won't make you leave."

"From the beginning then…" she took one sip from her glass, and set it across from Rick. "I lied to your wife about where I grew up—I told her I was raised in Pennsylvania and my sister went to college in Georgia, but that was a lie. I was born into a snobby upper-class family, living in a small town here in Georgia. Everybody loved them. I had an older sister named Jamie. She was a real piece of—anyways, my parents badly wanted a boy. But after nine months, I was born. And I was abused—well, to an extent. It was really all my sister Jamie that did it to me. I suppose my parents cared about me, but they never really gave me attention unless it was a holiday and we had relatives over… They did pay for my college tuition, but maybe that was just to get me out of the house. Ironic that they had the audacity to home school me. Most of the time, I had to raise myself. We just never saw eye to eye.

"But that's all the past. I went to college in Texas, but I guess I liked it so much here that after I got my Bachelors in art directing, I came back. My sister was trying for her Masters to become a teacher—ironic; she was ignorant trash. Anyways, she spread her legs for her younger pothead boyfriend. And, ta-da, she ended up pregnant. She flunked out of college in her fifth year. Of course, precious Mommy and Daddy just couldn't take her in at the moment. Did the baby-daddy stay? No.

"So guess who had to help raise a child with Down's syndrome? I did. Hell, I pretty much raised her by myself while Jamie came home with a new boyfriend every night. I thought that she would have a taste of the real world and change, but she didn't. Even though she technically had a Bachelor's degree, she never used it. Because of her one bad decision, she had pulled me down with her. All those years in college were for nothing because of her, and I had to bartend. I had had a really bad drinking problem when I started. I almost died during my first three months there. My problem never really left, I just managed a better tolerance.

"Anyways, I had so many opportunities, and a lot of employer's wanting to hire me. But I stayed for her child, hoping that in a few years, Jamie would pick herself up, and I could get back on my career. But it never happened. When the outbreak happened, I took Emma and left. But your wife killed her, and Shane made me watch. The two of us were leaving. We were on a highway—the one on Interstate 85. It was jammed, and we were held up for hours. Walkers came through, and Emma was scared.

"She ran, and I tried to follow her, but Shane held me back—we had briefly conversed, and your wife tried to be my friend by getting me out of there with Emma. I was forced to watch as they ripped her apart. They ate her, Rick. And I couldn't do anything. So I was brought into the group. By force. I tried to leave, but Shane found out and we got into a fight. He said it wasn't safe, and that I wasn't stable. And he's right about it not being safe… I want to stay, but not because I love everybody to the bottom of my heart. I'm staying because I feel like I can do some good in this group. I feel like it's my time to prove myself to someone who cares."

Rick was silent. "You can't blame my wife for that."

"Yes I can. You weren't there. You didn't see it. She didn't let me try and safe her."

The sheriff took a drink. "You didn't tell me everything," he said as he lowered his glass.

"I was just hoping you'd forget," she smiled. But it faded, and her face grew dark. "I killed her."

"Who?"

"My sister—my parents were vacationing out of state, so I don't know what happened to them. Jamie tried to kill me when I told her I would take Emma somewhere safe. We fought, but thankfully Emma had already been in the car. My own sister tried to stab me. I took the knife from her, and stabbed her after she almost strangled me. I took Emma, and we fled."

"You killed your sister in self-defense?"

"Yes. But based on how oblivious and arrogant people are, I would have been arrested for murdering her, when really, she attacked me."

It made sense.

"I didn't want to kill her. I thought we could fix things, but… I killed a man earlier that day. He tried to kill me too, just because he thought I knew what was going on, but I shot him… That's another story for another time," the woman confessed.

"You murdered two people in one day?" he asked.

"God said 'Thou shall not murder'," Leah told him. "I didn't murder, and he knows it. He gave me the strength to make it through that day alive. He obviously wants to keep me alive for something. And that's proving myself worthy of his grace."

"So are you going to sit here and insist the outbreak happened because God was a little pissed off, too?" Rick chuckled. Leah's face turned serious.

"That's exactly what I'm gonna say," she said. "For three years I was the most unreligious person there was. And the outbreak got me thinking—so many people died, and the numbers just line up with how many atheists there are. I think we're all still alive because this is the cleanse of the earth, and God rooted out the worthy ones to find his grace again and slay the ones that have been blinded by the devil so badly.

"That's morbid."

"Maybe," she sighed. "Maybe not. It just… pissed me off. It still does—my sister anyways. She took my life—my future—from me. All I ever wanted was to get married to a good guy, art direct and live on a ranch so my babies could ride horse and… I wanted to have two kids, and that was it. I wanted to feel the joy of being pregnant, and showing off my kids to my friends, or at church. I wanted to be able to hold them when they were born, and watch them grow into great things—maybe a surgeon, or the one who cured cancer…

"I wanted a husband who would teach my boy to be the toughest and nicest son of a bitch ever, and I would make sure my little girl knew not to waste herself on a man, and that just because she was a girl didn't mean she couldn't be smart. I wanted to see my flesh and blood do great things.

"I wanted to smile when they graduated, and see them get married… I wanted grandkids more I suppose. I wanted to be the grandmother that baked cookies and pie and spoiled them on Christmas… I had so much hopes and desires, but because Jamie screwed up, I lost it all. I had to raise a kid that wasn't my making. It pissed me off all the more."

Rick held his drink up to the light, watching small bubbles swim in the dark liquid. He felt cold inside from what Leah told him. "Which town did you say you grew up in?" he suddenly brought up.

"I didn't," she told him. "Regardless, it's a dead town."

There was a tense silence. "Why don't we finish our drinks, hmm?" Rick suggested, handing his friend hers back. He sipped from his alcohol. But she didn't drink any.

She stood up, giving him back her drink. He lowered his glass, raising his brows at her.

"I've been a high school graduate for twelve years. Not once did she try to apologize—not even before I killed her. Thirty years of my life I've lived without kindness from my sister. It pains me each night knowing she wanted to kill me. I can't sleep at night just thinking about it. You've never known true fear when the person you thought cared about you triew to take your life. If you went through what I did, you would understand."

"I know we grew up differently, but why didn't you at least—"

"You told me about the Vatos," she interrupted. "You were ready for a shootout. Think about how much more blood would be on your hands than on mine? One day, your kill streak will skyrocket mine."

Rick didn't say anything. "Look at us," Leah continued. "A cop and a convict." She laughed, tucking her red hair behind her ear.

Of all the people, she was closest to him; but why not anybody else? She hardly conversed with the others, with the exception of Carl. She had been somewhat close to Amy before the poor woman's demise. As for Andrea, it seemed like they were friends, just not that close.

She felt something growing about that sheriff—not lust, just an even stronger friendship. He was handsome, sure, but there was more than that. He actually listened to her. He treated her like a human being, unlike Lori. He deserved better than to suffer everyday with whore he married. His best friend had betrayed him, and now there was nothing.

"We're still friends, right?" she asked him.

"Yeah." In reality, they had already become the best of such.

"Thank you," Leah told him. "For everything."

"No trouble."

Leah smiled. "Well, I was gonna head down to the Rec Room, so… Good night."

"Good night."

The two of them left the room together, however, they departed on different directions. Rick looked over his shoulder at her, watching her hair as it clung to the back of her black tank top. Against the light, he could see a few strands of her hair lingering on her blue pants. As she disappeared around the corner, he looked away before she caught him.

The room was dark. Leah flipped the switch, turning the lights on. The lights hummed deeply. There were sobs cascading through the room. Leah surveyed the premise. Her eyes landed on Lori, who hunched over in the corner of the room, sobbing.

"Lori?"

The woman looked up, quickly rubbing the tears from her eyes, and tucking her hair behind her ears. She struggled to keep a straight face.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing," she insisted, standing up. "I just… I tripped and hit my head."

"Let me see," Leah said, making her way towards the woman. As she did, Lori's hand gripped onto her arm. There was blood and skin under her nails.

"What happened?" the younger woman asked.

"Shane," she whispered. "He tried to—What do I do!?"

Leah felt sympathetic for the woman. She was finally paying the consequence for what she had done to her husband and Emma. But it didn't feel right.

"C'mon," she said, tugging her arm. She led the mother out of the room, shutting the lights off, and shutting the door with a creak and a click. Padding down the carpeted hallway, Leah ushered the woman down the halls, and to her storage unit. Lori didn't refrain from glancing about once in a while to look for Shane.

Rick's white door came into view. Grabbing the doorknob, the door flew open, and Leah led the woman to the combined makeshift double bed. Carl was fast asleep on the couch. Rick wasn't there.

The older woman pulled away, climbing on top of the bed. She gripped her face, sobs harrowing her body. Carl didn't stir. Leah sat down beside her, placing her hand on the woman's back.

"Where is he?"

"…I don't know."

She pulled away, leaving. "Wait."

Lori stared at her, her face begging for her to stay. "Don't go after him—God knows what he'll do to you."

Leah frowned. "Alright."

Out in the hallway, the woman ventured alone. S he wasn't going after Shane. She didn't need to end up with a knife plunged into her throat in her sleep.

Rick rounded the corner at the same time Leah crossed the empty gap between the walls which formed a narrow hallway. He stopped as she walked, seeming to be deep in thought. She bared the resemblance of a Walker at that moment. He called at to her, and she froze, glancing over at him.

"I thought you were in the Rec Room?" he asked her. She shook her head, crossing her arms.

"I thought you were heading towards your room," she replied. "What are you doing?"

"Well," he began, leaning up against the wall. "I got side tracked… I was looking for Jenner."

"Why?"

"Just wanted to talk to him."

Leah smirked. "Mind if I tag along?"

Rick shrugged, chugging from a wine bottle he had at his side. "Not at all."

They wandered into the lab, slowly approaching a stressed Jenner. Rick slumped at Leah's side. She hoisted him back up. Rick pulled away, knocking on a desk. The doctor looked at the two, smiling before returning to his work.

"How's the blood?" Rick asked.

"No surprises," Jenner said.

Rick hobbled over by the doctor, rubbing his face. "I came to thank you," he told the busy man with a smile.

"You did thank me," Jenner said.

"Rick—" the redhead urged. "Maybe you should go to bed."

"I'm… fine."

Suddenly, his knees buckled out form under him. He collapsed on the cold hard ground, bunching up against a desk. Leah rushed over to him, trying to pull him up. Instead, he snatched her arm, forcing her down with him. He offered her his alcohol. She took it from him, chugging from the bottle. The rim tasted like the sauce from dinner.

"I think you've had enough to drink," she told her friend. He made a face, snatching the bottle back from her as she held it away.

"Are you all right?" Jenner asked.

Leah turned towards him. "He's just a little—"

"You don't know what it's like," Rick interrupted, laughing like a madman. "You don't know what it's like out there. You may think you do, but you don't. We'd have died out there. It was only a matter of time. There's too many of those things. My boy… My wife… I never—I never told 'em what I really thought. I never even hinted, just—kept it in…

"Kept it in and kept us moving, you know. Just kept it in. Kept us…"

"It'll all be okay," Jenner said in an uneasy manner. "It'll be okay."

"I hope so," Leah muttered. She stood up. Rick did as well, watching her leave like he was a lost dog.

"Wait!" he called, stumbled after her. She caught his arm as he toppled over.

"What do you need?" she asked. He stood up, bracing against the wall.

"I wanted you to come down to the kitchen with me to get something."

"Wine?"

Rick smiled, stepped towards Leah. He extended his thin hand towards her. She looked down at it with a quizzical expression, before slowly reaching out, grasping his contrasting warm hands between her cold flesh. However, the gold wedding band on his finger was just cold as her.

"I think you've had enough to drink," she said. He gave her a pleading look. "Rick, if you get alcohol poisoning—"

"Want to run?" Rick interrupted as he began dragging her down the hallway.

"I don't know—"

But he had already begun bounding down the carpet, hauling Leah behind him.

The two thirty year olds were like giddy four year olds in a candy shop as they ran, laughing and shushing each other while they passed open doors, and finally the kitchen. By the end, Leah's bare feet stung from multiple brush burns accumulating on her exposed skin. She bent over, struggling to regain her breath. Rick did the same. The sudden change in the air temperature didn't help.

Daryl shuffled past them, muttering hysterically while clutching a case of beer in his hands.

Standing up straight, the woman watched her companion make his way towards the wine cellar. She followed him into the room, watching him root through the alcohol. He pulled out a bottle of Columbia Valley Merlot. Leah stepped in front of him, taking the bottle from him as she put it bad.

"That's the worst wine I've ever had," she told him. "Don't risk it—I'm surprised Jenner actually had any."

She pulled out two bottles of soda. "How about Chablis?" she lied.

Rick took one of the bottles, examining the label. He smiled, before tucking the bottle under his arm. "It was the first kind of wine Lori ever had."

Leah smiled, knowing she had fooled the man. "So it's a deal."

"Deal."

XXX

The tall bottles of dark soda stood up on the wooden coffee table in the Recreation Room, seeming to blend in to the décor. Leah sat on the floor, tracing her fingers along the oak finish, watching Rick as he struggled to balance two beverage glasses stacked together.

Finally, he made it to the table, clumping down to the floor. He set the glasses down, and took the closest bottle, unscrewing the cap. He placed it beside the drinks.

He poured the beverage in the glasses, and put down the bottle. "I think we only needed one bottle," he said.

"What?" Leah smirked. "Not in a drinking mood?"

Rick looked at the door. "Not really. I already had a lot."

That's why I grabbed soda. "Yeah…" she agreed. The two of them grabbed their glasses, holding them up in the air.

"A toast," Rick began. "To an excelling friendship, being alive, and making it here."

"A toast," his friend repeated. Their glasses clinked together, and they slowly drank. Rick watched her through the rim of his cup.

Suddenly, she stood up, letting her glass settle on the table. She walked around him, heading towards a shelf filled with boxes. She began rooting through them, shoving each box back in angst as she discovered only dust. Sighing, she returned back to Rick.

"I suppose we'll just have to talk," she said. "I was hoping to at least find a checkerboard, but I guess not."

Rick smiled at her. "Is there a problem with that?"

"Not at all," she told him. She sat down across from him, rubbing her face. "So…" she began, grabbed her drink. "Don't you think it's a little strange that Jenner let us in so easily?"

Rick had a contemplating look. "Maybe he just felt bad," he said.

"No… I think it's more than that—what if he wants to use us all as test subjects?"

"I don't think that's his missive," he said, shooting down the idea.

"But what if you woke up in the middle of the night, only to be greeted by an empty space beside you on your bed," she shot back. "What if he took Lori? What if he was testing on her, and letting Walkers bite her over and over? What if—?"

"That's enough," Rick snapped. Leah seemed to have been caught off guard by his outburst, and he noticed.

"All I'm saying is—"

"Leah—"

"For God's sake Rick!" she spat. "Would you shut up and listen to me? Please. Now—all I'm saying is that people change when the rules of civilization change. Social institution is gone. What makes you think Jenner couldn't just up and decide to test on us? We've been set back decades—maybe centuries in our technology. We're finding new ways to live, Rick. This is evolution. Some could argue this is God's way of killing everyone and starting a new pure Earth, whay if it really isn't? I know what I said earlier but... Jenner's a scientist, so he's trying to adapt the way a scientist would. Even if that means testing on humans just to find a way to beat this thing."

Rick slowly nodded. "Are you really that religious."

"Catholic—well, I was as a child. Why?" she asked.

"Just, the way you talk about evolution."

She chuckled. "You don't have to be an Atheist to believe in evolution. We didn't come from apes, Rick. The true meaning of evolution is how we've changed as humans.Evolution is adapting to changes. Evolution is changing, just not the way most see it. Coming to the New World was evolution."

Rick pinched the bridge of his nose. "I guess you're right," he said.

She smiled. "Of course I am."

AN: This was a very important chapter as Leah said and did some pretty hinty things like—

She's still religious in some ways, but she isn't a nut about it.

Which very, VERY important town she grew up in (a present for the lovelies that guess correctly).

She's afraid of killing people—ironic, right?

Rick will kill Shane and feel the pain she felt when she killed her sister.

Her parents could still be alive! This is a very important detail as well, but it will take a while to show up again.

She straight out said that Ho-Hey, she has a drinking problem (Like Bob!).

She gave Rick soda in the end because she cares about him! Aww!

Don't forget to review!