A/N: I listened to 'Comes and Goes (In Waves)' by Greg Laswell while writing this next chapter. I really felt like the lyrics described our characters and the world they live in. Not to mention, it's just a pretty song.
Another little tidbit – I was re-watching episodes from the current season and I had to laugh when I saw Pete (the guy the Governor killed and threw in the lake). He is almost exactly how I pictured Dean to look. So if you are striving for a visual, there you go!
Hugs and kisses to DarylDixon'sLover, wabi-sabi1090, WishfulThinker66, BigRedMachineUK, dropxdeadxjuliet, sillygabby, MLP Mike, Sweet Little Mary Sue, rocknrollprincess131 and a big thank you to Isnotamusedsir for pointing out the Easter egg. Yes, I did say the title in the previous chapter. :) Enjoy!
Lindsey was awake before the first traces of light filled their dark bedroom. Even as Rick stirred next to her, she continued to stare at the ceiling as she had for the past hour. She may have appeared calm and unmoving on the outside, but inside, a storm was raging. How could they have been so careless? Especially considering what was going on with Judith. There was no way Rick would have made such a lapse of judgment on purpose – did he even realize what they'd done? She felt like she was suffocating.
As she kicked her legs over the side of the bed, Rick stroked his hand across her lower back. She hesitated before looking over her shoulder at him. When she met his deep cobalt eyes, she saw no traces of regret or apprehension. Clearly, he did not realize what they'd done.
"Where are you going?" he asked, his voice heavy with sleep.
"I was going to get some air," she answered truthfully.
Rick adjusted his head on the pillow as his brows drew together. "Is everything okay?"
Lindsey chewed the inside of her cheek and swallowed the words she sought to say aloud. Forcing a weak smile, she said, "I'm just worried about your run to the prison – and Judith, of course. That's all."
"Come here," Rick whispered as he gently grasped her hand and pulled her toward him. He enclosed her in his arms, lifting her hair away from her neck and smoothing it down her back. "Please don't worry about the run. Carl is staying here with you. I want him to be your main focus. You're so good with him," he said, his gaze softening.
Suddenly, her mind imagined the tiny life that could be forming inside of her right now – a baby, their baby. Conflicting emotions flowed through her and she fought to keep her face neutral. Goosebumps broke out across her skin, drawing Rick's attention away from her face. He rubbed his hand over her arm and pulled her closer. "You cold?"
Lindsey nodded and dipped her head into the crook of his neck. She was on the verge of tears and did not want him to see them. He needed to be focused during his trip to the prison. Surely news of a possible pregnancy would distract him. He had to be sharp in order to watch the other's backs, including his own.
They heard the reverberation of a truck door closing outside. "You should probably get downstairs. Don't want to keep them waiting," Lindsey said, even though she didn't want him to go.
Rick sighed and tipped his forehead to rest against hers. She squeezed her eyes shut and savored the moment, knowing it could possibly be their last. With visible reluctance, he released her and got up to get dressed. Lindsey watched him move about the room. He glanced at her as he fastened his gun belt, but neither of them spoke.
After tugging on his jacket, he propped an arm on the bed frame behind her and leaned in. She draped her arms around his neck as he kissed her with absolute tenderness.
"Be careful," she whispered against his lips.
"Always am," he replied in his deep drawl. "I love you, Linds."
She grinned at the nickname, masking the moisture that was seeping into her eyes. "I love you, too, baby."
Rick kissed her once more, and then left the room without a backward glance – a clear coping mechanism. As the door clicked shut, the first tear rolled down her cheek.
Rick walked down the hall, hating goodbyes with every step. He had one more to make, and this one would be even tougher than the last. He knocked gently on the door to Carl's room and pushed it open. His son was sitting up in bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"Are you leaving now?" Carl asked with a yawn.
Rick sat on the edge of the twin-size bed and nodded slowly. "We should be back before it gets dark. If we aren't, hold off the search party. As you've probably noticed by now, things don't always go as planned."
"But you'll find your way back. You always do, Dad."
Rick clenched his jaw and glanced at the plaid bedspread. He struggled to voice the next few sentences. "Listen, if something happens to me-" he started to say.
"Dad, stop," his son groaned out of discomfort with the subject.
"No, let me say this," Rick shushed him. "If something happens…will you take care of Lindsey for me? I hate to ask that of you, but-"
"I know she'd do the same for me. I promise that I will," Carl interrupted again, his expression reflecting the seriousness that Rick felt.
His heart swelled with admiration for his boy. "I love you so much," he said as they embraced.
"I love you, too," Carl whispered.
Before Rick stood, he picked up his old Sheriff's hat from the bedside table and placed it on his son's head. Carl flicked the rim and gave him a crooked grin. Rick took a mental picture of that moment to save for later – he was sure he'd need it.
"I'll see you soon," he said to Carl as he righted himself and quickly exited the room.
The brisk morning air intensified the crisp aroma of decaying leaves on the damp earth. Rick exhaled as he descended the front steps and a light puff of breath appeared in front of him. These dropping temperatures further supported their mission today. Winter was rapidly approaching – it was absolutely imperative that they get these supplies.
Daryl sauntered across the yard, looking up when Rick came into his line of sight.
"There ya are! I thought I was gonna have to drag yer ass outta that warm bed," he said with a wink.
Rick shook his head in good humor. As he followed Daryl to the truck, he saw that Michonne and Tyreese were already waiting in the backseat of the extended cab. When he opened the passenger door, they all exchanged 'good mornings.'
After fastening their seatbelts, Daryl swung the truck around and set off down the driveway. Rick watched the farmhouse recede in the side mirror, his chest tightening as he saw the curtain flutter in their bedroom window. He'd get back to the woman on the other side if it was the last thing he did.
Lindsey shut the lacy drapes, blocking out the sight of the departing truck. She couldn't help but feel like part of her heart was leaving with it – the other half was buried back at the prison, and she desperately hoped the rest didn't meet the same fate.
Moving on with her day to the best of her ability, she slipped on a pair of dark jeans and a gray, long-sleeve knit top Maggie had given to her. As she opened her bag, her gaze fell upon the item she'd retrieved from Carl's bunk.
Lindsey studied the happy family in the framed photograph. She had wanted to see Rick all clean shaven, and now that she was getting the chance, she thought he looked like a completely different man. It was his carefree smile that made the difference. Carl had grown so much. He'd gone from a boy to a young man.
The last person in the picture held her interest for a bit longer. She had to admit – Lori Grimes was a beautiful woman, and the type of person that would have intimidated Lindsey in her former life. Just from what she'd heard about Rick's wife, Lori had exuded an air of competence. In this photograph though, all she saw was a loving mother, and that was the only thing that mattered now.
Clutching the picture behind her back, she strode downstairs in search of Carl. She found him sitting quietly on the porch swing, his face troubled.
"What's up?" Lindsey asked as she neared him.
"I remembered something that I wanted my dad to get at the prison, but when I got down here, he was already gone," he mumbled, moving his feet off the swing so she could sit next to him.
"What did you want him to get?" Lindsey kept the photo tucked out of view, hopeful that he was talking about that very thing.
"Last time we were in King County, I got a picture of him, me, and my mom. It's the only one left, and I want to be able to give it to Judith…if I ever get the chance," Carl said sadly.
"You will," Lindsey whispered. She bit her lip as she revealed the picture to him. He gasped and seized it from her hands, a bright smile adorning his face. "I grabbed it on my way out," she added.
"Thank you! Thank you so much, Lindsey!" he exclaimed as he threw his arms around her, and she returned the hug with equal vigor. When he pulled away, he held the frame in both hands, admiring the picture inside. "Do you really think I'll ever be able to give it to Judith?"
Lindsey didn't blink as she responded, "I know it. Don't ask me how, but I do."
Carl hopped off the swing and gave her another quick hug before heading inside, presumably to display the picture in his room.
It was still early in the morning, so Lindsey opted to take a short walk around the estate. The cool air was refreshing and she thought it would help clear her mind.
She reached a section of wooden fence posts and stopped to take in the view. The farm was undeniably gorgeous. Overcast skies intensified the green trees scattered throughout the field and a soft breeze rustled the tall grass, bringing with it a slight chill.
Of course, now that she had a peaceful moment, her concern from earlier made itself known again at the forefront of her mind. Lindsey smoothed a delicate hand over her flat stomach as she allowed herself to fall into her thoughts. She'd been through this once before, but last time, it was on purpose and the dead hadn't been walking the earth. It had taken a little while for her and Jared to get pregnant, and after they'd lost the baby, she'd had some tests done. It turned out that she wasn't as fertile as most women her age. As much as she wanted to live in a world where she could have a baby with Rick, she was relying on that infertility to do its thing right now.
"Is there something you're not telling us?" A voice asked from behind Lindsey.
She brought the lingering hand to her mouth in surprise as Dean moved to stand next to her. His gaze remained on her stomach and then settled on her face.
"No," she answered quietly. "I mean…it's too early to tell."
Dean simply nodded. She would have loved to have known what he was thinking. In fact, she made the decision to ask him outright.
"What?" Lindsey snapped. "Obviously, you want to say something, so out with it."
Dean raised his eyebrows, and after rolling his tongue inside his cheek, he said, "Rick seems to have a problem with taking the right precautions."
"You don't know anything about him," Lindsey muttered, shooting him a glare.
Dean leveled his eyes with hers. "Then fill me in – tell me what I'm missing here. I mean, for God's sake Lindsey, the man's daughter is missing! Is this really the time to knock you up?"
Before she could even consider what she was doing, her hand flashed through the air and slapped soundly across his cheek. Dean froze, looking off to the side. He blew out a breath and took a menacing step toward her, meeting her eyes once again. Lindsey held her ground, refusing to be threatened by him.
"He's gonna get you killed, Lindsey. Sooner or later, you're gonna end up just like his wife," Dean said bitterly, and turned to stalk back to the house.