In Another Life
The CDC, Rick thought, came as both a blessing and a curse. It was a curse to have their hopes torn to shreds; there was no cure, no one was working on a cure, all of their efforts to get here had be in vain. At the same time, however, it was a blessing to have warmth, a hot meal, clean pyjamas and, yes, good alcohol.
He was contemplating just how good the alcohol was on his way back to his bedroom when he heard it. It was the sound of someone throwing up. He smirked to himself. Someone had too much wine. Then he realised whose room it was and cursed himself. Of all people, Andrea was the one who had the most right to drink her troubles away.
Slowly, he pushed open the door to her room and saw that she'd left her bathroom door open. She was kneeling over the toilet, head bent over the bowl, soaking wet hair sticking to her sweaty forehead. He hurried to her side, pulling back her hair and rubbing her back in, what he hoped came across as, a soothing manner. Finally, she stopped heaving and closed the toilet lid, sitting back against the wall. She was paler than he'd ever seen her, and it wasn't just down to the alcohol; she looked genuinely ill. It worried him.
He sat with his elbows on his knees, studying her face. The fact that she didn't seem to mind that he'd just watched her throw up told him just how worried he should be. He didn't mind, of course; it didn't pay to be squeemish in this new world. But she should have minded. She didn't.
"It's over."
Her voice was so quiet that he almost missed it. Almost. But he didn't and what he heard was so filled with emotion that he couldn't help but think back to how empty her eyes were when she shot her sister, how empty they had remained, and wonder how broken a person has to be to be that far gone. Her eyes were dead when she looked at him. She had no will power, no confidence, no self-assurance. The person sitting in front of him wasn't teh person he met in that bar.
Thinking back to when he met her, in that bar, so sarcastic and witty, it seemed like a lifetime ago. It was a lifetime ago, or at least, it might as well have been, for all that had changed. It wasn't the same world and they weren't the same people. Life back then, he thought, amusingly, seemed hard. He'd happily take debts and unpaid overtime and a nagging wife and housework and carpooling over the Walkers anyday.
"There's nothing left."
He didn't know how to reply to her statements.
It seemed like she was right. He had something to life for; his son. Andrea now had no one. Amy was dead, Penny was gone. She had very little hope of finding her daughter and even less hope of finding her alive and healthy. Rick had no words that could make her pain go away, no gesture that would heal her sorrow and anger. There was nothing anyone could do; it was no use telling her it was all going to get better because they had absolutely no proof of that and, from what Jenner had told them so far, it wasn't getting any better because no one knew how to make it better. There really was nothing left. Except them.
The next day, when Jenner told them about the clock counting down and she told them she was staying, Rick couldn't bring himself to leave her.
He watched Carl and Lori leave and felt torn between his son and Andrea. But Carl had people who would help him, he had people to make him strong. Andrea didn't, not unless he helped her. He knew why she wanted to stay. She didn't have anything to live for.
"Andrea," He pleaded, crouching in front of her and gripping her knees, "You have to come with me. Amy wouldn't want this for you!"
She was looking at him in shock. "Amy's dead, Rick. And you need to leave. Now."
"I'm not going anywhere." He said, "I can't live in that world without you."
"Didn't you hear me last night? There is nothing left for me. But you...you've got a son that needs you. And a wife." He didn't miss the way she spat out the word, like it tasted sour in her mouth, but nor did he comment.
"I'm left." He told her, softly, and she looked at him through her wet lashes. "We're not over, Andrea. We can't be together, but I need you to know that that isn't out of choice. I don't love Lori anymore, but we live together, we're both part of this group and we have Carl. Those are the only reasons I'm not with you right now. I need you to understand that. I need you to know how much I want you, how much I need you, how much I love you."
Her eyes widened slightly at his final statement. If he hadn't been watching for some kind of emotional response, he wouldn't have noticed it, but he did. The tiny change in her expression told him all he needed to know. He meant every word. He'd been terrified to admit it to himself but it was impossible to deny it for any longer. He'd never loved anyone the way he loved her. He'd been tossing and turning since he'd found her again; guilt kept him up at night.
His guilt, however, wasn't rooted in the fact that his body had been unfaithful; more so that his heart was. He didn't love Lori anymore, that much he'd known for months. They both knew it but it was easier not to say it. Now, though, he couldn't keep it to himself anymore. He couldn't hold it in and, it turned out, he'd chosen the perfect moment to announce it.
Her hand slid into his and he closed his own around it, pulling her to her feet and towards the exit, glancing back at the timer as he did so. They had fourty seconds to make it out. It was going to be close. Too close for his liking, but if they died, at least she died knowing he loved her.
They were running and he knew in that moment that she had never really wanted to die. If she did, she wouldn't be running so fast to safe her life. If she thought death was the only way out, she wouldn't be running so fast to save his life.
The glass was somehow smashed and Rick spotted the tag from a grenade. Of course, Carol. She'd taken it from his uniform that first morning in camp; he thought he'd lost it running from the Walkers, but clearly not.
They made it out into the sunshine and her pace slowed; she wasn't trained to run like he was, she couldn't catch her breath and her feet were failing her. He refused to let her slow, though, and pulled her with him, shoving her first over the wall. Someone yelled for them to duck and he pushed her to the floor, throwing his body over hers as protection. There was an immense heat on his back, an explosion so loud he was surprised it didn't deafen both of them, and then an eerie silence.
Slowly, she looked over her shoulder at him. Her face was dirty and tear-marked, her chest was rising and falling rapidly as she tried to catch her breath and her cheeks were red, but her eyes weren't dead anymore. They were filled with such powerful emotions that it made his heart want to sing.
She was there. His Andrea was inside somewhere. He'd saved her life, now it was his job to give her something to live for.
Wow.
It took me 25 chapters to get to the end of series 1? Holy cow.
Thank you to everyone who is coming on Rick and Andreas journey with me. I feel like we're a little family of Rickdrea shippers!
Lets christen ourselves Rickrea Babies, OK!?
Hope you love it, more soon!
S x