Azuraskye21: That's what I'm really liking about doing this fanfic...I can add more depth to the characters that the show doesn't that can show why they are the way they are, or, like I'm doing with Merle, straight up change an aspect I don't like thanks to having my OC...lol...Thank you for reading and I hope you keep enjoying it.

FanFicReader47: I'm hoping you like this latest update, because it's the turning point for Andrea. I promise, she's not staying in 'I fell for the guy who saved my life even though he's a psycho' stick she was given in the show...She should have seen that a mile away, not as late as she did. Thanks for the review and sticking it out! ^_^

Andrea walked hand in hand with the Governor later that night. He'd taken her back to his apartment earlier and they'd had a couple more drinks over which they talked about themselves. She learned his daughter's name was Penny and he'd learned a little about her old group. Nothing in particular, just the dynamics. He'd commented on how women could be just as good of leaders as men but it was rare to see such women step up and take the power. Andrea had just laughed and said that there were no women quite like Tea.

They walked hand in hand through what looked like an emptied out factory. Everyone from the town was there and music was blaring. Industrial lights lit the place as people filled the bleachers that had been set up there. Philip helped her climb the bleachers to the very top and center, apparently the best view in the house. So many people were welcoming them with handshakes and back-claps and all the townsfolk were all cheering. She noticed how Milton didn't seem too thrilled about the whole situation, but he seemed to be the only one.

"It's a little loud," she told Philip as they sat. "I don't feel-"

When the music cut out and newer music began, everyone started cheering louder, cutting her off. Philip stood and cheered even louder than everyone else as the lights clicked on full blast, showing a ring in the dirt and walkers on chains. Andrea was appalled. She watched as Martinez ran into the center and started play boxing with one of the walkers before the crowd really went nuts and chanting the name of the next contender. It did not surprise her one bit that Merle would take part in an event like this.

The man peacocked around, pointing to Martinez and telling the crowd, "I'm gonna kick his ass one-handed. Oh, the hell with that! No-handed!"

He proceeded to drop to the ground and do pushups in quick succession using his stump. Andrea stood there stunned for a minute; Merle did not have the looks or the charm of Philip, but any man that could do something like that at least earned a once over. He kept posturing to the crowd before the man acting as referee took his vest. Andrea had to admit, watching Merle fight was kind of hot. She did not expect him to be able to perform such a fast, high, and precise kick like he delivered to Martinez as soon as the fight started. Having seen Tea take the man down so easily, Andrea had assumed that he was more bark than bite, but watching how he just shook Martinez's attempt off with a back hand and another kick showed otherwise.

"He's got nothin'!" he called out to the crowd as Martinez slowly climbed back to his feet, scrambling away from the walkers that were close to him. "Nothin', folks!"

As he was gloating, Martinez took the opportunity to land a jumping blow to Merle's back, causing the man to go down. Andrea was watching with rapt attention, arms folded over herself, thinking about how wrong this was. Martinez had Merle in a headlock and was pushing him towards a walker, but the man just used Martinez's own body as a sort of support to bring both legs up to push the walker away before he reared his head back. Clocking Martinez in the jaw, Merle gave himself enough leeway to be able to flip the man over his back and onto the ground. It was pretty impressive how Martinez cartwheeled up, landing a kick to Merle's face in the process as he found his feet. A whistled was sounded and the pair stopped fighting, although they kept a hold of each other.

"Aww, come on!" Philip shouted beside her. "Let 'em fight!"

The referee loosened the chains that held the walkers, boxing the fighters in a circle. There was hardly room to move without being at the mercy of a walker's arms. The two of them stood next to each other as the walkers got closer and Andrea held her breath. She could see why Milton did not enjoy any of this activity.

"Come on, pretty boy," Merle said as he pulled on Martinez. "Let's dance!"

With that he threw the shorter man into a walker. The walker held onto him, pinning one arm with it's hand and the other as it held the walker's face away. Merle took the opportunity to kick his chest before punching the walker away. Andrea had enough; this was absolutely sick and appalling and now she was beginning to understand what Michonne had seen about this place. She got up and went to leave, only to be pulled back by Philip.

"Hey, hey! Where you going?"

"What the hell is this?" she demanded.

"It's a way to blow off steam," he said as if that made everything okay.

"Blow off steam?" she scolded. "You go for a jog to blow off steam. This is- This is sick."

Philip looked offended, "Well, look around. Everyone's having a great time."

"It's barbaric," she said.

"Come here," Philip said as he pulled her down to sit. "It's staged," he told her quietly while chuckling. "Yeah, we pull out the biter's teeth. It's just all for show."

Apparently, he didn't realize that Andrea could see herself that some of the biters had teeth. Sure, a couple were bloody mouthed, but the rest of them still had their teeth! Either he thought she was gullible or that she was blind. Probably both, she thought to herself, wondering why in the world she trusted this man over Michonne.

"That's crazy," she told him, still disgusted. "This is your reason for keeping walkers around?"

"People need entertainment."

"So your solution is gladiator fights?"

"We're reducing these things. We're controlling them," he tried to reason. "We're shinin' a light on the monster under the bed. It's fun. It makes people feel better about the whole thing."

"It's a slippery slope," she countered. "You're teaching them that walkers aren't dangerous."

"We're teaching them not to be afraid," he said with a look of anger and confusion.

Andrea just turned away as Merle flipped over Martinez's back while the man was on all fours, taking out a walker behind him before slamming his fist into the back of Martinez's head. Merle flipped the man over and checked to see if he was awake. When the man was unable to do anything more than lay there panting heavily, Merle started counting in Spanish until the crowd cheered as tres was called. Andrea stayed sitting, unsure of what she was going to do.

~x~

In the morning, Andrea walked through the streets of Woodbury with a new set of eyes. The people here all seemed so ordinary, the kids playing eenie, meanie, minie, moe as they went along with their day. It was hard to believe that just the night before, they'd been a hollering mess at the walker fights and hardly civilized. Taking a deep breath, she felt the entire atmosphere become unnerving.

"You know you can join in," Philip said from behind her. "They don't bite. Kinda the whole idea of the place."

Andrea considered him for a moment before saying, "Seems like you also encourage people to punch each other in the face. The arena."

"Didn't like that so much," he mused.

"No, not so much. I mean, I get the fighting; wrestling and boxing have always been around. But the walkers?" she left her statement hanging open before saying, "Listen, I gotta ask you something."

"No," he told her without even letting her ask.

"Okay," she said with a scoff and a roll of her eyes as she walked away.

"Hold on. How do you get it?" Philip asked her.

"I'm not gonna tell you how to run your town," she said as she walked off.

"This is our town," he insisted. "You stayed. You're part of this now, so tell me."

She sighed and turned around, still not entirely sure what to think of the man after last night. "If it's an escape, I don't think it's being managed the right way. I saw the teeth on some of those walkers. One scratch is enough to turn you, and those men were in the walker's clutches. It's too dangerous and it's more brutal than it needs to be. I think the world's brutal enough already."

"It really bother you, huh?"

"I do want to be here, but I won't be participating in any of those events again," she told him.

"So, what were you saying before I made you condemn our sadistic way of life?" he asked, changing the subject.

"I want to contribute," she told him. "Everyone else does."

"Well, Robbie could use some help in food distri-" Philip began, but was quickly cut off by Andrea.

"I want to work the wall. I'm a good shot. I wanna stay that way."

"Can you use a bow?"

"I can learn," Andrea said, thinking about how easy Tea had made it seem when she came back to camp with her crossbow.

"Well, I can get somebody to teach you," Philip said with a smile of which Andrea returned with her own.

It didn't take Philip very long to have her on the wall with an older teen girl, whom she thanked for taking the time to teach her the bow.

"When the Gov tells me to do something, I do it," the girl told her. "I figure we can start tomorrow. There's a training area, some hay bales. There's even a bow you can use. It was my old one."

"You must be pretty good," Andrea commented.

"Yeah," the girl bragged. "My dad taught me. He used to take me hunting. He wanted me to be in the Olympics. This one was his," she said, holding up the bow in her hands. "It costs more than my car. It's...awesome. I totally killed him for it," she said with a chuckle before turning solemn.

"That wasn't why you killed him," Andrea told her.

"No," she admitted. "My dad wasn't himself, and my brother wasn't either."

"I had to kill my sister," Andrea said.

"Sucks, right?" the girl said.

"Yeah," Andrea agreed as they shared a look and a moment of silence until movement caught Andrea's eye. "Walker."

They both stood up, but the girl said, "Cool, watch this," as she knocked her bow.

While the bolt hit the target, it broke as it entered and hit the neck. A second arrow soared right over the walker's head as it stumbled. Andrea told the girl she could handle it and grabbed her knife. Knowing it was only one walker and that it would be an easy kill, she jumped over the wall as the girl was yelling at her.

"We're not supposed to go over the wall!"

Andrea body checked the walker before stabbing it through the eye, satisfied with herself. However, the girl who was supposed to be training her yelled down to her, "What the hell was that?!"

"That is how it's done," Andrea said with a proud smile.

"I said I could do it. What is wrong with you? This isn't a game!"

All Andrea could think of was that Tea would be chewing this child out right now. She was the one who had been playing at being some great bowman and yet had missed on two tries. Andrea just stood there for a moment before huffing and looking down. There would be no winning with some people, and this girl was one of them. The only problem was that after she had climbed back over the wall, showing just how easy it to do so in the process, Philip was waiting for her.

~x~

After the fights that night, Merle went for drinks with the guys, happy as could be at winning his matches. Unfortunately, his happy mood was quickly dampened by Crowley waltzing in with Chrystal on his arm. It was just his good luck that it wasn't just the inner circle of guys; there were other citizens around and he could easily duck out before all of them did to avoid the stories she would tell. But he knew he wouldn't. He never did. For some reason, Merle was a glutton for punishment since he always stayed and listened to the horror stories, engraving each and every one into his mind.

Drink after drink until he could hardly feel his face, he watched as the citizens left until the only ones still around were the scavengers. As expected, Crowley called for one of Chrystal's stories and the girl didn't bat an eye as she started talking. Tonight it was how they'd pushed the girl down three flights of stairs and then out of the house. She'd been walking funny from a dislocated hip, the way she held herself and walked being acted out by Chrystal before a round of laughter sounded. The girl couldn't have been more than eight at the time according to Chrystal. And the tales kept going like that; how they broke her left arm when she was five to keep her from playing in a violin competition Chrystal was playing in too. How they starved the girl for a week when she was seven, only providing her with a single cup of water and slice of bread daily, just to see if she could take it. How the girl had to keep her ribs wrapped all throughout school because they made sure she had at least one broken at all times. Hell, there hadn't been a single bone on that girl's body that hadn't been broken at some point, most not even treated at the hospital. Titania Marie Parker, wherever the hell you are, you're one tough bitch, he thought to himself as he stumbled into his apartment when the 'festivities' ended.

When morning rolled around, he pulled himself out of his bed and ran a hand over his face. Today, he'd be taking a group out to hunt that Michonne woman. His orders were to bring back her head and her sword, but Merle was hoping he'd just be able to take the sword and that would be enough. Though, if one of the others got her, that would take the choice out of the matter for him. That wasn't such a bad thing, since it wouldn't be his hand that did anything at that point. At least Andrea was still in Woodbury; he planned on having a little chat with Blondie when he got back.

He rounded up the guys that he was going with as well as their gear. Merle headed off in the direction the woman had yesterday, quickly picking up her tracks. It couldn't have been more than mid-morning that they stumbled across a field with a hot mess in it.

"What the hell is this mess?" Merle asked, looking at the severed arms and legs of the walker's torso laying next to it.

"She did this," Crowley said.

"It means something," Merle observed, "the way it's all set up like that."

"The Governor was right to send us out," one of the other men said.

"Damn straight, Tim," Merle replied, knowing he had to play his cards right. "We're doin' a righteous public service here."

There was no love lost between Merle, Crowley, and Tim. They were of the kind that liked to listen to Chrystal's tales, Crowley especially, and laugh along. Tim normally only paid attention during the more indecent parts of the psycho bitch's tales, and that set even worse with Merle. But the new kid they had with them wasn't all that bad, even if his name was crazy. Hell, Merle had stood up and taken the boy out on a couple runs himself because he reminded him of a lanky, teenage Daryl.

"Go back," speak of the devil, said kid spoke up.

"What?" Tim asked.

"The arms are a G. The legs make an O. And that's a back. It says go back."

Merle chuckled at the ingenuity of the woman he was hunting, "This is too good. Look at this. She sent us a biter-gram, y'all."

"I don't believe this is happening," the new kid said, setting Merle off.

"Hey, hey!" he said, stalking up to the kid and grabbing him by the collar; the kid couldn't be this much of a pussy if he was going to be a part of the research team. "You knock it off. What the hell's wrong with you? Now, the Governor chose you 'cause he thought you were ready. I want you to succeed, I do. But if you keep announcing to the world that you're pissin' your pants, I'm gonna have to smash your teeth in." He gave the boy a couple good pats on the shoulder to calm him down. "Now, how do you say your last name again?"

"Gargulio," he replied.

"Well," Merle thought for a second before tapping his shoulder again, "I'm gonna keep calling you Neil. Alright?"

Rustling in the trees brought everyone to high alert. Merle raised his gun and looked around. There was no sign of any movement and they had all their angles covered. However, one wrong move was all it would take for the four of them to be in big trouble.

"What's the deal, Michonne? Hmm?" he called out, trying to warn her of her odds. "You gonna leap outta the woods, one against four, all of us armed to the teeth and you with just your little pig-sticker? No, no, no Michonne."

The last thing he expected was the warrior woman to drop out from a tree and chopped Tim's head off before gutting Crowley. Neil had his gun out and was wildly taking fire as the woman ran through the trees like Rambo. Merle didn't even bother taking aim now that the two real Governor soldiers were down. He watched as one of the bullets from the boy's firing grazed Michonne's thigh and internally cringed. If it weren't for the fact that he needed that sword, he'd call it quits at this point.

"The fuck you firin' boy?" he asked Neil, who looked like he was about to be sick, before adding, "We're close to the red zone. Them shots just pulled every biter in this area our way. Now, we gotta get outta here before shit goes down. I don't want you to die out here, ya hear me amigo? Now come on, let's go!" When the man recovered from his bout of nausea, Merle told him, "Now, you know. We don't ever let one of our own turn. Never," he said before putting his blade through Crowley's head.

He watched, waiting in expectation, as Neil got the right idea and started about the task at hand. Even though he almost puked while doing it, he shoved a knife through Tim's severed skull, ending his existence forever. Merle had to admit, he was a bit proud of the boy for keeping himself together as well as he was. Still, Merle had to get a prize to take back to Woodbury or else he'd be screwed.

"Come on, let's go," he told him, resting a hand on his shoulder for a moment. "She ain't runnin', she's huntin'. So are we. There we go," he said as the boy got to his feet.

They ran though the forest as quickly and silently as possible. It was already getting later in the day than had been expected and Merle was getting tired of the hunt. He wasn't able to see any sign of her and even if he was a good tracker, he wasn't exactly trying his hardest. It was only the crunch of leaves behind him that gave him any indication of Michonne's presence. He swung around just in time to push Neil out of the way of a swing of her sword, though not fast enough to help him avoid a cut. Merle used his own blade to block a second swing of hers, bring it down and around until the woman was disarmed and pushed her on her back. He went after the sword, then, but had barely been able to start bending towards it when Michonne's well placed kick met his hip joint from the front. It caused him to lose his balance and fall on her, which only made her struggle.

His eye sight was blurry from taking a rock to the nose when he'd fallen on her, but he could hear the growling just fine. One of the walkers was on him and he could see another on her, and yet another stumbling along behind. He wasn't sure how many there were in total, but his lack of ground and blurred vision made him a sitting duck. Merle was struggling with the one that had reached him and was bearing down, trying to get a bite. His blade was stuck in its neck and he was using his other arm to hold it off. Thank God for Neil, as the boy came up and slammed his machete into the thing's skull. Merle sat up and quickly grabbed the last walker and shoved his blade through the eye socket.

He then looked around; Michonne nor her sword were anywhere to be seen.

~x~

Tea had found out they dug a grave for Carol and had, in the wee hours of the morning after feeding and changing the baby again, gone out and torn it all to hell. She was convinced that Carol was not dead and that they would find her in the tombs. So much so that she was planning a search and rescue mission as soon as she got back inside, as well as planned a few places to go for baby supplies that they hadn't had a chance to since they'd been on the road. Daryl had uncharacteristically stayed out of her way, simply remaining silent as she fumed and tore at the cross and rocks that marked the one dug for Carol.

Tea knew he was having problems keeping the hope alive for Carol due to how many they'd lost. He was also still having problems coming to terms with their own scare. The problem was she didn't know how to help him through it without making him angry again, and that wasn't something she wanted to do right now. As they lay back in bed watching the first morning sunbeams peak through the bars of the windows, she did the only thing she could do at the moment. She was on her back with his head on her chest, ear to her heartbeat, arms and legs wrapped around him as he was holding her as tight as he could. Carl wasn't much older than he had been when he'd lost his mom, and the reminder of that plus the disappearance of Carol, Tea was surprised the man wasn't crying. Then again, she couldn't see his face to know whether or not he was.

She ran her hand through his hair and down his cheek, stroking the stubble on his chin tenderly. He carefully unwrapped one arm and caught her hand, bringing her palm to his lips before tucking her hand under his chin in his hold. It was almost like he was trying to use her like a teddy bear, and while she was a little antsy to get out from under him, this was what he needed. She'd get her space later, when she sent him on a run or to guard duty, whichever she decided. Taking a deep breath before sighing its release, Tea squirmed ever so slightly, trying to wiggle a leg free so she could be a bit more comfortable.

"Don't leave," came his broken voice as he nestled closer into her chest.

"Not leavin', jus' need ta move," she said. "Know ya need this, so I'm not goin' anywhere. But ya mind shiftin' ya weight a bit so I can get me leg out? It's startin' ta go numb."

She felt him huff against her and instead of shifting he rolled over, pulling her with him, momentarily suffocating himself with her breasts. He shuffled up to where he was laying on the pillow while he pulled her down and across him. Now she was laying with her head on his shoulder, one of his hands in her hair, the other tracing his name over her scars as her body lay on top of his. The first time he'd even touched it had freaked her out to no end because she never once wanted him to see those scars. Now, though, it was just as relaxing for her as it was for him.

"Where'd you get 'em?" he asked her for the hundredth time, voice barely above a whisper.

She knew she had to tell him, that her past was eating him alive not to know, but speaking the whole truth was just too hard. "One day, D. I'll be able ta tell ya everythin' one day. But that one, it's jus' too hard."

"You seen mine."

"And ya told me 'bout as much 'bout it as I have most a me otha scars," she told him, looking up at his chin as he stared at the bed above him. "Daryl," she said, sitting up and straddling him, forcing him to look at her. "Ya get me like no one else has eva even tried, and ya don' care 'bout all me scars. I know I ain' told ya 'bout 'em all. I know I ain' told ya any a the darka stuff that happened like ya want me ta. It scares me ta even think 'bout it. I don' wanna lose ya when I tell ya. I don' wanna lose what I have right now," it was her turn to fight back tears. "I'm bein' selfish again, I know it. But I'm askin' ya ta let me be a while longa. I can only think 'bout the past so much, and a lot I keep in a box I don' eva wanna open. Talkin' 'bout those scars, that's openin' that box." He looked away from her, not wanting to see the raw emotion in her eyes. It was just too much for him to handle as she asked him to wait for her again. "Daryl, look at me." She waited for his baby blues to meet her emerald orbs before continuing, "Those scars were the bane a me existence, and I will tell ya, some day. But ya need ta know, ya made it betta. Ya made havin' 'em betta, the burden a bearin' 'em lighta. I hated me body, hated everythin' 'bout me 'til ya came along and picked up all the little pieces an' put 'em back tagetha. I can' tell ya yet how I got 'em, but damn if ya didn' make havin' 'em okay. Ya need ta know feelin' ya draw ya name ova 'em is as relaxin' for me as it is for ya anymore. I love ya, Daryl Dixon. Ya are me world and I don' know what the hell I'd do without ya."

He had tears coming out of his eyes. I'm such a fuckin' pussy, he thought as he furiously wiped at his eyes. She thought he made her better, thought he'd put her back together. Those scars had been tearing at him since he first saw them, wondering just what the hell they could stand for. He hated to admit it, but it had always hurt when she told him she couldn't tell him. He felt like she didn't trust him. Now, that pain was completely overtaken by a warm glow of pride and joy that he was doing something right for her. That lack of trust was non-existent as she found comfort in his touch and it was his touch that made her feel better about the scars. All that worry about how much he messed up, and he'd been helping her without even knowing it. She knew, without words, how to help him and when he needed it. He'd been at a complete loss to do the same for her, but he had been all the same.

"Fuck, Ania, you know I love you," Daryl said, covering his eyes as he looked away from her. "I don't even know what the hell you see in me. I'm always gettin' angry at you for shit like this and then you go and say somethin' like that. How the hell am I helpin' you, girl? You're the one always givin' me what I need and I'm just takin' and takin' and takin' and you always give. It ain't right and I don't feel like I'm doin' enough for you," he said, remarkably getting all his words out for once without stuttering or stopping halfway through.

"Feelin's mutual, D. Feelin's mutual," she said as she leaned down, removing his arms from his eyes and putting her forehead against his. "I feel the same damn way, like I'm always askin' ya ta wait. I know ya need the reassurances. I like givin' 'em ta ya, but I mess up and jus' can' sometimes. Ya know, I need ta get 'em jus' as much. And ya give 'em. Ya always touchin' me, holdin' me, givin' me everythin' I need, even if it pisses ya off or hurts ya. I don' think we'll eva feel good 'nough for each otha, but I ain' fuckin' goin' on without ya. If ya go, I go, D. That's the way it's gotta be now."

"Don't say that," he told her, not exactly sure what she was meaning while his eyes snapped to hers.

They remained bright and clear as she repeated, "If ya go, I go."

~x~

Rick walked into the cell block, asking if everyone was alright. Tea was sitting between Daryl's legs eating breakfast on the stairs, Oscar next to them while everyone else was at a small table. Rick had cleaned up and changed before entering the commons, for which she was very thankful. The last thing Carl needed right now was to see his dad bloodied up beyond belief with walker blood. She was concerned as he didn't even look at the baby. As Hershel asked him if he was okay, Tea took a critical look at the man.

"I cleared out the boiler block," Rick told him.

"How many were there?" Daryl asked, nudging Tea with his knee; he saw it too, the fact that Rick wasn't all there.

"I don't know. A dozen, two dozen," he sighed. "I have to get back. Just wanted to check on Carl."

"Ya have a baby too, Rick," Tea called out, but he didn't even bat an eye at her words.

"Rick, we can handle taking out the bodies," Glenn told him. "You don't have to."

"No, I do," Rick said as he walked up to Tea. "Does everyone have a gun and a knife."

"Nah, I came up with that system not ta enforce it," Tea said with a roll of her eyes.

"We're runnin' low on ammo, though," Daryl told him as he watched the man stare at Tea blankly.

"Maggie and me are going to make a run this afternoon. Tea showed us a few spots we can go for ammo and baby food," Glenn said.

"Don' thank me, thank that damn phone book," Tea input.

"We cleared out the generator room," Daryl told Rick. "Got Axel in there tryin' to fix it in case of emergency."

"Gonna go sweep the lowa levels lata," Tea added.

"Good," Rick said, as if he had any say in what was happening, before walking away and leaving the cell block with a final, "Good."

"Rick!" Hershel tried.

"I got 'im, Hershel," Tea said as she went to stand.

Daryl stopped her and pulled her down for a kiss after which he let her go. She went to check on Little Lady again, refusing to call the baby Daryl's name for her. Finding the girl sleeping soundly and still dry from the last time she was changed, she made her way out of the cell block to go find Rick. She found him in a boiler room, just standing around as if he were waiting for someone.

"Mind some company?" she asked him, leaning against a desk when he nodded. "Ya know, I'm here if ya wanna talk."

"Yeah, I know," he answered, looking down as he realized why she was here. "Thought it was safe."

"It was and is 'nough," she told him.

"Not enough! It wasn't enough!" he yelled.

"Rick, that ain' what this is really 'bout, is it?" she looked at him with a knowing gaze, and his fell in complete shame. "Ya blame yaself, don' ya?"

"If I'd have just killed Andrew, made sure he was dead instead a lockin' him out," he said.

"She mighta still died durin' childbirth. Ya mighta lost 'er taday anyway. Ya can' blame yaself for 'er."

"And T-Dog? Carol?"

"T-Dog's more me fault than ya's. I'm the one that turned me back on 'im, and that's what got 'im eaten up. Carol's comin' back ta us, ya hear? She ain' dead, jus' missin', like me and Phia. We'll find her," Tea insisted.

"I got a call," he said, sounding brokenly hopeful.

"Communication's been down for a long time, Rick. Ain' no way ya got a call," Tea told him.

"Someone called."

"Rick," Tea said in her serious voice. "Ya didn' get a call. Ya mind is playin' with ya 'cause a the stress a losin' Lori. It's a brief psychotic disorda, in ya case, psychotic depression, I'm pretty damn sure. It ain' no call ya gettin' but a hallucination a what ya wishin' for."

"No," Rick said. "I, huh-huh, I got a call, Tea, I got a call."

"No, Rick, ya didn'," she insisted, knowing she was pushing him to where he needed to be to get back on track.

"You weren't here!" Rick yelled at her.

"I didn' need ta be. Rick, there's no dial tone, no 'lectricity. There was no call," she said, holding up the phone that wasn't even connected to a power line. "I'm sorry, hun, but there was no call."

"No," he said as he chocked back a sob.

"It's the truth, Rick. Ya have ta accept it," she told the man as she entered his personal space.

He damn near fell again, if it weren't for Tea standing there to catch him. She struggled in bringing him down to the ground with her in a safer manner while she cradled him as he sobbed and held onto her like a child. She rocked him and sang to him until he calmed down some time later. His eyes were clearer than they had been in a long time even though he looked physically and mentally exhausted.

"Let's get ya back ta the cells and get ya some rest, yeah?"

Updated 9/9/21