"What are you doing?" Michonne asked, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and turning to see Rick sitting against the headboard, watching her. The sun was barely up but he looked as though he had been there awhile.
"Go back to sleep," he whispered. "It's early."
She rolled over so she was facing him and ran a hand along his arm. "You can't sleep?"
"I was just preparin' for the day," he said. "You don't need to be up yet. I'll wake you up when I'm out of the shower."
"No," she said, pulling him back as he moved to get up. "Five more minutes."
He smiled, settling back down at her side. He ran his hand up and down her arm as he leaned in to press his mouth to hers. "Good morning."
"Good morning," she answered, returning his kiss. "Big day."
"Yeah," he said, letting his inflection drag. "Let's hope."
"And dinner tonight with your mom and Carl, right?"
"Right. I should be out by…"
She reached up to press her finger to his lips, stopping him. "Don't give me the details now. Call me after you've got your guys and you're safe back at the station. You can tell me then."
"Ok," he agreed, pursing his lips beneath her fingers. "I'll call you as soon as I can."
He pulled himself up to sitting and let his eyes wander her dark skin wrapped in the white sheets of his bed, her locs hanging in her pretty face as she whispered her confidence in him. He felt as if he was still asleep, dreaming her up. He would get this done today, then be back beside her that evening, sitting down to dinner with his family. If he was lucky he'd convince her to stay again and he'd wake up the same way tomorrow. "I'm gonna go take a shower," he said, reluctantly. "Before we turn running early into running late."
"Alright," she smiled, rolling onto her stomach and kicking one leg out from under the sheets. "Wake me when you're done."
They had started to settle into a comfortable routine whenever she stayed the night. They would take turns showering, or share one, if Carl wasn't home and they found reasons to stay in bed a little longer. Then they'd dress beside each other in his large, sunny master bedroom. She enjoyed dressing for work there, now that she had some things tucked away in a drawer instead of working out of an overnight bag. Prepping for the day in his ensuite bathroom and having use of his standing, full length mirror, seemed luxurious compared to working back and forth between her cramped closet and her bathroom down the hall, the way she did at home.
Rick usually attempted to convince her that they had more time than they actually did, distracting her through each step of her routine, but that was half the fun. The fact that he hadn't attempted to make them late today made her think the seriousness of the day's task had to be weighing on him. It was weighing on her.
Neither one of them were particularly drawn to large meals in the morning, when they didn't have an always starving ten year old to feed so after they readied for their day, they shared a bagel and fruit before walking together to his driveway where her car was parked next to the cruiser.
"You're turning this thing back in today?" she asked.
"Yup, Carl will be disappointed."
"He told me he wanted you to keep it forever," she laughed.
Rick shook his head at his son's childlike fascination with the vehicle. It was the one thing he still thought was cool about his dad, and he almost wanted to keep driving it to see him fawn over it like that. It got terrible gas mileage and smelled like Daryl though, so he decided against it.
"Be careful today," she said, her tone turning somber.
"Listen," he said, knowing they had to get going. "Don't worry about anything. Everything's going to be fine." He pulled her hips to him so she was pressed against his front. "I know what I have here, Michonne. I'm not going to take any chances."
"I love you," she said, cupping his face. "I'll see you tonight."
"I promise you will." He kissed her one more time, then turned to open her door, closing it behind her as she slid into the driver's side. He watched her pull away before settling into his vehicle and starting the drive to the station.
The roads were quiet, and Michonne had just enough of a head start, due to his habit of securing his weapon and starting up his computer before he took off, that he wasn't able to see her ahead of him as they travelled the same route. He ran over tactics in his head; how many teams they would send, who he wanted on them. He and Daryl would take point, since they were the only ones who could identify Gareth, and they needed him secured immediately if he was on site.
The judge had agreed to a "no knock" warrant and, with the kind of arsenal Noah described, he had no idea what they would be rushing into when they opened that door. He did know one thing: he was playing this safe. He'd told Michonne once that you had to know what you wanted in order to be afraid of someone taking it away. Well, he knew now. He had exactly what he wanted and he was going to come home tonight and keep having it.
Once he arrived at the station the place was abuzz with the excited energy of the operation. It was a small department and, his own injury withstanding, this type of action was rare. Michonne was right when she had guessed they dealt with a lot of running red light incidents, but he'd been a cop a long time. It was rare, but not a first for him.
He and Daryl had served this type of warrant before, years ago when they had tracked down a kidnapping suspect. He used to get off on the type of adrenaline rush you get from kicking down a door and dragging a suspect out of bed in the middle of the night. There was a part of him, deep down, that was excited by the risks of his job.
He became a cop because he wanted to protect and serve, but you don't run into the line of fire for strangers if you don't have a little something feral inside. The danger of his job kept that ember burning low, kept it in check. He was reaquainted with that untamed side recently, but he also remembered what it was like to be on the other side of the danger, thinking it had finally taken you down. He was the only one in the room who knew what that felt like and he wanted to make sure he was clear when he told them not to take risks here. They had a job and they would do it, but nobody needed to be a hero today.
After assembling their teams, and going over the plan, Rick looked at the men before him who were ready to walk into danger on his command, on his lead and his case. Two of his best friends would be there, as well as three other men whom he worked with every day. They'd agreed when he'd told them how he wanted this to go down, and now they were suiting up, ready to follow his lead. He nodded to Daryl who was securing a long gun in the trunk of their cruiser, and got behind the wheel. He checked his vest, though he was acutely aware of its limitations, and holstered his weapon, after one last peek in the chamber.
The drive across town was quick, as most treks were in this tiny town of back roads and quiet commutes. The three cruisers, each carrying two officers, slowed to a stop a few blocks from the small house Daryl and he had staked out a little over two weeks ago. Daryl calmly tucked the warrant in his pocket and gave Rick one more nod before they exited the car. Continuing on foot, they fanned out, one team on each side of the building, Shane and his partner to the right and the other team to the left.
Rick and Daryl came to a crouching position on either side of the front steps, waiting. Shane pressed his back against the corner of the house and, glancing at his partner first, lifted his bent arm once, then lowered it in a chopping motion, signalling they were in position. Daryl peered around the other corner, spying the same signal from the second team and he lifted his gun, stepping in front of the door. Rick followed, moving quickly in front of his partner and taking the two stairs silently, Daryl a foot behind him. He met Daryl's eyes one last time, then turned forward, lifting his leg and driving his foot into the door, breaking the lock.
The wooden door splintered and flew open. Daryl rushed past him, pointing his weapon straight ahead as he ran inside, shouting his identification. Rick raised his gun and followed behind, charging through the threshold and aiming left, then right, scanning the room. Nothing. They heard another officer break through the back door and identify himself and the three came face to face alone in an empty room. The furniture was gone except for a stained, brown couch with a large tear in the center cushion. There were no signs anyone had been here in days.
Exchanging a heavy glance, Daryl and Rick split, each taking one side of a hallway that led off of either end of the kitchen. The other officer signalled for Shane to enter and they began searching cupboards and closets, finding them all bare.
"Clear," Daryl yelled from one end of the home. "Fuck!" He was unable to stifle his exasperation, shouting and driving his fist into the drywall in the empty hall.
Rick followed with his own declaration that the other end of the house was empty as well. They hurried back to the living room just as Shane finished his once over of the kitchen.
"Nothing, Brother," he informed Rick, running a hand through his dark hair.
"You think Noah was full of shit?" Daryl asked, his breath starting to labor as the adrenaline wore off.
"We know there was someone here. We saw 'em."
"That was weeks ago and the kid's been in the hospital awhile," Shane said, passing his eyes back and forth between Daryl's profanity filled pacing and Rick's stoic stature. "They musta moved on."
"How long you think it took 'em to clear this shit outta here, if Noah was right about this being headquarters?" Rick set his hands on his hips, his forehead creasing with worry.
"I dunno, man," Daryl responded, settling himself to try and follow Rick's train of thought.
"If they split because they got word that Noah talked, he's in trouble."
Daryl nodded, understanding that they hadn't just missed their shot, they'd also broken a promise to take care of this quickly, and now the kid had a target on his back.
The last two officers came in through the broken back door, finding their comrades circled up and looking defeated.
"The perimeter is clear. No sign of anybody coming or going," Officer Lamson said.
Rick dropped his head into his hands, sinking to one knee. He let out a frustrated growl, pounding his fist into the dingy, beige carpet.
"What's the next move?" Daryl asked, staring down at his partner.
"We gotta get to the hospital." He looked at Shane. "Can you secure this scene?"
"I got it. We'll talk to the neighbors, too. See if anyone saw them move. Go on," he said, slapping his palm on Rick's shoulder and watching as he and Daryl rushed out of the empty house.
…
"So you have no idea where these guys are? That's what you're saying, Deputy?" Dr. Wilkes was making no attempt at hiding his anger at their failure.
"No, sir. Not at this time," Rick admitted. He stood in the doorway of Noah's hospital room, holding his hat in both hands in front of him.
"You told us this was the last piece you needed," Noah's mother said, glancing between her husband, and Rick and Daryl.
"Woulda been if they were there," Daryl countered.
"Did they have any other places that they worked out of?" Rick asked, trying not to convey his desperation.
Noah shook his head, silently. The gravity of what they were telling him was settling in and he found himself staring straight ahead, unable to look either of his parents in the eye. He knew there was an imaginary timer counting down above his head, ticking away the moments he had left until Rick and Daryl found Gareth, or Gareth found him. If they knew the cops were onto them, it wouldn't take much to trace it to him, since he was the only one out of commission.
"So, now what?" Dr. Wilkes asked. He set his hands on his hips, squaring his shoulders as he spoke. "How are you going to keep my son safe, Deputies?"
Rick brought a hand up to his forehead, scratching lightly with his thumb. He knew better than to double down on a promise he hadn't yet delivered on, and there was no question they'd just lost their biggest lead yet. "We still have a name and a face and it ain't a big town. Someone is going to slip up and we'll be ready, because of what Noah gave us."
"This ain't over," Daryl joined, seeing the toll the conversation was having on Rick. "Not even close."
Dr. Wilkes, turned away from them, crossing the room to stand beside his wife and son. "Let's hope it's not," he said, dismissing them with a wave of his hand.
...
Rick unbuttoned his uniform shirt, letting it fall to the floor behind him. His room was dark as the sun was beginning its evening routine, and he flipped on the lamp beside his bed giving him the light he needed to fish some clothes out of his closet. Thoughts of Noah's father filled his head as he puttered around his room, getting ready to pick up his son and take him home safely for the night. He saw the fear hiding behind Dr. Wilkes' angry eyes when he had broken the news that they didn't have anyone in custody. They both knew no one could keep Noah completely safe, until they took out Gareth.
He grabbed a t shirt and a pair of jeans, tossing them on his bed before ridding himself of the rest of his uniform and walking naked to the bathroom to steal a quick shower. He had twenty minutes until Michonne arrived and they headed to his mother's house for dinner, and to pick up Carl. Just enough time.
He heard Michonne open the door as he was drying his hair and he wrapped the towel he was using around his waist to head downstairs to greet her. She let out a long sigh when she saw him, taking a few short strides to meet him at the bottom of his staircase. Her hand went to the back of his neck, pulling his face to hers so she could kiss him. "How are you?" she asked, when she released him.
He smiled, wearily at the question. He was pissed, worried, on edge, all of those things, but he simply kissed her cheek and answered, "better now."
She eyed his face, not finding him very convincing, but she figured he would talk about it later when they settled into bed, as was his habit. She often mused that his insomnia might start to ease if he wouldn't wait until his head hit the pillow to start thumbing through his deepest thoughts. She didn't mind, though. A man that talked at all was a rare find and if that was when he wanted to open up, she would give him that.
"I got your mail," she said, tossing some envelopes on the small table by the entry.
"Thanks. Just give me five minutes and we'll go." He took off back up the stairs, quickly dressing in the clothes he had laid out and pulling on his boots. He ran his hands through his hair, smoothing a few unruly curls, then grabbed his jacket and trotted back down.
Michonne was in the kitchen, pouring a glass of water and he took the opportunity to gather his wallet and keys from the table where she had tossed his mail. He noticed one large envelope and picked it out of the pile, scanning the return label. He recognized it immediately. It was the same law firm who had sent him the paternity results for Lori's daughter. He looked back at Michonne once more, then used his key to tear open the top of the envelope so he could pull out the single sheet of paper enclosed. His eyes scanning the body of the letter, he called for Michonne before he had reached the end, handing it to her as she came to stand next to him.
She took it, silently searching his eyes before reading the correspondence. "She's doing it," she whispered.
"That's what that means, right?" he asked, relying on her fluency in legal documents.
"She's petitioning to modify the agreement. She's claiming there has been a change in circumstance that warrants a revisit."
"Does it say what she's asking for?"
"No. This is just a courtesy to you, letting you know they intend to file the paperwork and take it to court. She hasn't done it yet."
"That's real courteous of her," he sneered.
"Rick," she said, placing a hand on his arm. "This is going to take awhile. You have time to build a case to fight her on it. Put this somewhere Carl isn't going to stumble upon it, and let's go have dinner. We will work this out." She looked him up and down, cursing the timing after the disappointment he'd already had today. "You okay?"
He nodded, letting himself follow her lead on the matter. Folding the paper and putting it in his jacket pocket, he wrapped a hand around her back, pulling her to him. "I knew it was comin'," he said. "I'm okay." He dropped his head to the crook of her neck and letting her scratch her nails lightly through his still damp hair. "You should probably stay tonight, though. Just to make sure."
She pushed him back, eyeing the unapologetic smirk on his face. "You have no shame," she chided, playfully punching his arm.
"Really, though," he said on the end of a chuckle. He already knew this time was different. She believed in him and he wouldn't let her or Carl down again. He tipped his head, meeting her gaze with a storm of blue. "I'm ready this time. Everything I need is going to be sitting around that dinner table tonight and I'm not losing any of it again."
"No you're not," she said. "I'm not." She allowed him to return for a kiss on her cheek and slid her hand into his, leading him to the door. "Let's go get Carl... and, Rick, my stuff's in the car."
A/N had to edit this chapter on my phone...hope there are no glaring mistakes :-). Thanks for your reviews!
