"Shane… Shane."
The sound of Lori murmuring her former lover's name in her sleep served as the world's most unpleasant alarm clock for Rick. It had been happening with increasing frequency lately, and it still hurt like a fist to the face every time he heard it. Irritated, Rick sat up in the pile of blankets and pillows on the floor that had become his bed. The ache he felt in his leg muscles had a surprisingly soothing effect on him as he recalled the encounter with Andrea that had caused the soreness. He glanced at his son in bed next to Lori, and wad glad to see that he was still fast asleep.
Unwilling to listen to his wife's dream-induced mumblings any longer, he quickly snagged a T-shirt from a pile of clothes on the floor and silently slipped it on. He tiptoed from the bedroom and made his way to the rectory's back door. The sun was just beginning to rise as he stepped outside, and he blinked at the pinks and oranges battling back the night sky. A glint in the grass caught his attention, and he leaned over to investigate. Oh shit, he thought as he retrieved one of the buttons that had gone flying off his shirt as a result of Andrea's impatient need last night. With only a handful of clothes to rotate through, he knew he couldn't afford to lose a perfectly good shirt, and more importantly, couldn't think of any way to explain to Lori why all the buttons had suddenly gone missing at once. Given his limited wardrobe, the question would be unavoidable.
Feeling slightly foolish, he began scouring the ground, picking up tiny silver buttons and pocketing them. He'd have to find a moment alone to sew them back on at some point; it wasn't the first time he'd been appreciative of the skills he'd learned as a Boy Scout.
When he was certain he'd found enough buttons to suffice, he wandered over to the fire and found Carol already there, preparing the morning's meal. "Hi," he offered as he plunked himself down on the log next to her.
"Morning," she returned with a hint of a smile. "Want some of that instant oatmeal you guys brought back from Wal-Mart? It's kind of gritty, but it'll stick to your ribs, and we've got some berries to throw on top."
Rick grinned gratefully. "Sounds delicious," he told her. "That's very kind of you, Carol. Thank you."
She nodded and looked away from him quickly, busying herself with preparations. Rick couldn't help but feel that she'd been a little skittish around him ever since the evacuation from Hershel's farm.
By the time he'd licked his oatmeal bowl clean, the rest of the group had joined him around the fire, save for Andrea and Daryl, who he assumed were out hunting again. Hershel and T-Dog begun an animated conversation on the fence progress, while Carol and Beth discussed the day's chores. Lori managed to toddle out on a pair of crutches.
Carl babbled away in his seat between his parents. Lori looked at Rick over their son's head. "Why were you up so early this morning?" she asked conversationally.
"You were talking in your sleep again." He hadn't yet filled his wife in on what it was that she had repeatedly been saying during slumber lately.
She offered a conciliatory smile. "Hope it wasn't anything too embarrassing."
Rick snorted. "Guess that depends on what you're embarrassed by."
Lori frowned at the hint of frost in the Sheriff's voice. She waited for him to continue, but it was clear he wasn't going to volunteer anything further.
With Carl and Lori currently occupied with eating, Rick decided that he may as well take advantage of the situation to rummage through the bedroom for a needle and thread. He dropped a kiss on his son's head, then excused himself from breakfast.
Once upstairs, he scanned his eyes around the bedroom, trying to decide where to begin his search. His eyes fell on a cardboard box of odds and ends next to the beat-up old dresser, and decided it was as good a place as any to begin.
He sat down in front of the box and began to sift through its contents. It seemed to be a box of mementos, and he smiled as he picked up a handful of old greeting cards. It was hard not to feel nostalgic as he flipped through the cards that chronicled a life from a hundred years ago. There were birthday cards made out to Carl, and handmade cards from the boy wishing his parents happy mothers' and fathers' day. He came across several cards he'd given Lori to commemorate their wedding anniversaries; his hand-writing inside them seemed foreign to him, his declarations of love unfamiliar. Beneath the stack of cards were the sorts of documents that used to seem so important: Carl's birth certificate, the deed to their home, passports. Rick marvelled that Lori had thought to grab such things before evacuating, but he was suddenly glad that she had. Perhaps one day the world would return to normal, or some version of normal, and there would be a use for such items again. He laid the documents on the carpet next to the greeting cards, and when he looked back in the box, he was pleased to see half of a spool of thread peeking out from beneath a thick envelope.
He took the unsealed envelope from the box and opened it, sliding out a thick packet of paper. The letterhead was unfamiliar to him, and he furrowed his brow as he skimmed over the dense text. When what he was looking at finally dawned on him, he felt a heated ball of rage well up within him.
"Looking for something?"
Rick turned his head and found Lori at the bedroom door, balanced on her pair of homemade crutches. The seething anger in her husband's eyes caused her to draw a sharp breath.
"You want to tell me what the hell this is?" he ground out, waving the papers in his hand at her.
A sinking feeling in her stomach, she hobbled towards him and looked at the papers he thrust into her hands. She knew without reading the text what it was. "Rick, I –"
He cut her off sharply. "Divorce papers?"
She sat down heavily on the carpet next to him. "Rick, I'm sorry, I forgot I even had those."
"Were you ever going to tell me?" He was just barely holding on to control.
She sighed. "I…" She looked away from him before continuing. "I tried, honey. Remember when you found Carl and I, that first night you were back? I told you I was sorry for being angry with you, and you said we should just forget about whatever we'd done in the past?"
Rick looked positively incredulous. "Are you fucking kidding me? You know goddamned well that I thought you were referring to all the fighting we used to do, not..." He gestured sharply at the papers she now held. "Not this."
"I know," she said quietly. "But what was I supposed to do? We didn't think you'd ever wake up in that hospital, and –"
He didn't let her finish. "I'm only going to say this once, Lori: do not lie to me about this." He snatched the papers back from her. "Look at the goddamned date on these. You had these drawn up before I went into the hospital."
Her shoulders sagged with defeat. "Alright, fine. I went to see my dad's lawyer in a moment of weakness, just to see what my options were. Those papers are just a draft he sent me, really. Look at them, Rick: I didn't even sign them!"
Her desperate insistence did little to defuse his anger. "Maybe you didn't sign them, but you sure as hell didn't throw them out either." He waved the papers in front of her. "And you decided to save them when you and Carl were running for your lives?"
Lori sighed. "Well, Shane said – "
"Shane?!" Rick exploded. "Shane knew?"
She flinched at the volume of his voice. "I told him just before we left for Atlanta. When we still thought there was a world waiting for us there. He said it might be important if I ever wanted to – " She stopped short, suddenly realizing that the conclusion of her sentence was only likely to enrage her husband further.
"Ever wanted to what?" Rick's voice was deathly quiet.
She looked up at him, tried to convey some sort of innocence by widening her eyes. "Ever wanted to remarry," she murmured.
Something inside him broke. "Remarry? Well, yeah, I'm sure the guy who's banging my wife would give real objective advice," he sneered.
Her hand met his cheek with a sharp crack. "Don't say it like that," she growled, her own anger bubbling up. "He saved our lives, Rick. Mine and Carl's. I would think you'd be grateful for that."
Rick laughed, a hollow, empty sound. "Grateful?" He rubbed at the red handprint now appearing on his face. "He may have saved your lives, but he tried to take mine."
Lori looked wounded. "So you say," she grumbled quietly.
He stared at her. "'So I say?'" he spat, mouth agape. He stood, began pacing with agitation. "Goddamn you, Lori, that is what happened. He tried to kill me! He told me so himself while his gun was pointed at me. He said you and Carl had gotten over me with him before, and you could do it again. All he wanted was to go back to the life he used to have with you. The life you gave him."
The barrage of words hung heavily in the air. "I was trying to survive! Trying to protect your son!" she cried.
He looked down at her with such venom that she hardly recognized her own husband. "And that I'm grateful for. I could maybe even live with that if it wasn't for…" He trailed off, resenting what he knew needed to be said. "If it wasn't for the fact that I think you would have happily gone back to that life too." He turned away from her, walked to the room's one small window and stared out of it. "Tell me, Lori," he said quietly. "How much easier would your life have been if he had killed me? How hard would it really have been for you to go back to him?" He refused to look at her.
She struggled to her feet, propping herself up on her crutches. "How dare you?" she spat. "You think Carl would be fine without his father? You think that's what I'd want?"
Rick's tall frame sagged, and he pivoted to face his wife again. "That is not what I asked you," he said slowly, evenly. "I didn't ask you what it would have been like for Carl to live without a father. I asked you how hard it would have been for you to go back to Shane." With two long strides he was in front of her, and he grabbed her forearms, forcing her to look at him. "Some part of you is still in love with him." It was a statement of fact, not a question.
She could hardly look at her husband. She broke eye contact with him and looked at the floor instead. She drew a deep breath, then finally murmured, "Yes."
Rick recoiled as though he'd been struck. He backed away from her, looked at her as though he no longer knew her. He ran his hand over his face, trying to process her revelation. He realized he was still clutching the divorce papers in his hand, and he stared at them, then thrust them at Lori. "Guess it's a good thing you had these drawn up then," he hissed. When she didn't reach out to take them from him, he let the papers drop to the floor at her feet, then stormed from the room.