I DO NOT OWN THE WALKING DEAD.

(Charlie's POV)

Rick got Charlie and the Jones' into his car and they got the hell out of the neighbourhood. Charlie's heart started to beat loudly as Rick pulled into the King County police station; he'd been here too many times before to have nice memories.

"What are we doing here?" He asked waveringly as Grimes stopped the car.

"This is where I work...or used to anyway." Rick shrugged as he began the short walk across the parking lot.

"You're a cop?" Charlie inquired nervously, trying to drag his heels about following the others inside.

"Sheriff's deputy." Rick called over his shoulder as everyone else got out of the car. Now Charlie was even more nervous. What if Rick found out about him and tried to arrest him? What if Rick already knew and was just biding his time? Charlie could only tell himself that he would rather be a zombie than go back to juvie.

"Gas and light have been down for maybe a month." Morgan explained as they walked inside. That made sense to Charlie; during his final weeks in juvie, power had become erratic and the guards had given vague answers like budget cuts and power outages to explain it, but most kids knew it was bullshit.

"The station's got its own propane system, pilot's still on." Rick said as he fiddled with the power and finally got it working.

"So, what do we do first?" Duane asked as Rick and Morgan looked at each other with shit eating grins.

"Shower," they agreed, officer Grimes led everyone into the bathroom and the glorious showering began.

"Whoo-hoo, hot water," Duane exclaimed as he lathered himself, basking in the heat.

"Oh my lord, that feels good, right? Morgan asked as he joined in.

"There ain't nothing like a shower." Charlie agreed and he enjoyed the hot water on his skin. After they washed up, the three sat down and dried themselves off.

"Duane. Dressing room is in the back, there." Rick said as he handed him his clothes back, pointing to an adjoining room.

"What do you say, Duane?" Morgan began and his son rolled his eyes when he had turned his back.

"Thank you." Duane replied taking the clothes and leaving the shower area.

"Atlanta sounds like a good deal, safer anyway." Rick stated as he dried himself off, pulling pants on under his towel for modesty as Morgan sat down, patting his head and face dry as Charlie dressed in one of the dry shower cubicles.

"That's where we were heading, things got crazy." Morgan began to explain. "Man, you won't believe. The panic...the streets weren't fit to be on, and then well...my wife...couldn't travel. No, not with her wound, so we had to find a place to lay low. And then, after she died...we just stayed hunkered down. I guess we just froze in place."

"Did you plan to move on?" Charlie said loudly and the two men glanced over, as if remembering he was still there.

"I haven't worked up to it yet."

After Duane had returned and the older men were fully dressed, Grimes led everyone to the weapons cache where there were still quite a few guns left.

"A lot of its gone missing." Rick remarked, rubbing his top lip in thought. "Wonder if Shane came through, he'd have a key too."

"Daddy, can I learn to shoot?" Duane asked, looking hopeful. "I'm old enough."

"Hell yes you're going to learn." Morgan replied firmly. "We gotta do it carefully, though, teach you to respect the weapon first."

"That's right. It's not a toy." Rick approved. "You pull that trigger then you have to mean it. Always remember that, Duane."

"Yes sir." Duane began to load the ammo into a bag as Rick handed Morgan a Remington 700 with a scope on the end.

"You take that one." Rick said as Morgan took the rifle. "Nothing fancy, the scope's accurate." Charlie picked up a 9 mm handgun; his grandfather had owned a gun shop in Savannah and Charlie had been raised around guns, this one was like an extension of his own arm it was that familiar. Once the firearms were divided and packed up, the four headed outside, where the cool of the station was lost to the heat of the mid-morning.

"Conserve your ammo." Rick warned Morgan. "It goes faster than you think, especially at target practice."

"Duane, take this to the car.' Morgan ordered as his son carried their share of guns and ammo to the car.

"Are you sure you won't come along?" the officer asked desperately, but Charlie kind of hoped he said no, he felt bad for it, but he still hoped.

"A few more days, by then Duane will know how to shoot and I won't be so rusty." the single father answered. As Rick and Morgan talked, Charlie was loading bags in the car and thinking about Alan. It was hell, not knowing if his best friend had survived their separation, but he trusted whatever God was letting this shit happen.

"Look, just one thing." Morgan said as he and his son moved to leave. "They may not seem like much one at a time...but in a group all riled up and hungry...man you watch your ass."

"You too," Rick returned, shaking Morgan's hand.

"You're a good man, Rick Grimes...I hope you find your wife and son."

"Be seeing you. Duane. Take care of your old man."

"Yes sir." Duane replied with a smile. Before they could leave, Charlie looked over and saw a walker coming towards them. It looked like one of Rick's former cop buddies.

"Leon Basset?" Rick asked in surprise. "Didn't think much of him, careless and dumb, but...can't leave him like this." The Jones' had no desire to be there when the shot attracted more walkers, so they got in the car and sped away as Rick approached Leon.

He pulled out his Colt Python and shot him in the head.

(Alan's POV)

As Alan got used to living at the impromptu camp, a couple more people had joined up. He hadn't really bonded with anyone; save Amy. Everyone older was too busy working to try and get to know him and while the jury was out on Daryl Dixon, his brother Merle was a certified asshole and Alan was sure to keep his distance from the KKK wannabe. While Alan was getting firewood, Amy decided to help him out, Dale warning them to stay within earshot so help could get to them if necessary.

"Need a hand?" She offered and he smiled, inclining his head.

"Sure." He accepted before dividing his haul in half, letting her take the lighter pieces.

"My birthday is going to be in a few days." Amy stated sadly as they carried the wood, keeping an eye out for danger.

"Oh yeah?" Alan glanced at her sideways, wondering if birthdays were even still relevant in zombie land.

"I'd completely forgotten about it because of...everything." Amy admitted with a chuckle.

"Got any gift requests...besides an end to the zombies?" Alan inquired as the blonde shook her head.

"It's stupid..." She bit her lip and trailed off before shaking her head.

"Tell me."

"Well..." Amy started before sighing. "I like fantasy stuff, you know, unicorns, dragons, things like that. Most of all mermaids, I freaking adore Mermaids."

"You're a Disney girl, aren't you?" Alan teased and Amy scoffed before playfully shoving him with her shoulder.

"Shut up!" She exclaimed with a laugh as they enjoyed this small break from the tension of living day to day.

Alan was reluctant to return to camp and end this time with alone with her.

REVIEWS NEEDED AND APPRECIATED.