Fate Is Fickle Until It Ain't

by Richonnelover05

Two strangers at the beginning of the apocalypse share an important connection but are fated not meet and instead go down two different paths. Fate however has bonded these two through one shared commonality, Carl Grimes. After years of separate hardships and tragedies for both Rick and Michonne, will fate finally draw the two experienced warriors together?

1. Chapter 1--Clear

I was laughing with dillie60 about this particular story that I wrote during my supposed break and told her I was shelving it for a while. She loved the premise and kindly asked me to at least post the first two chapters to see if there is any interest. If not, then shelve the rest of it for a later date. How could I say no. So here is chapter one. And I will post chapter two in the next week or so and then I guess we will go from there. I just love Richonne. Sigh.

Btw…This is not a funny. This story is more of a straightforward family story. Of course I had to have some humor sprinkled throughout, but it is purely situational. So those of you expecting hilarity, or horror, I hope you will not be disappointed. And all fifteen chapters are longish, between 9100-10,000 words each chapter. If you don't like long chapters, sorry about that too!

Enjoy!

Chapter 1- CLEAR

Rick needed to CLEAR.

First, Rick needed to CLEAR his mind.

When Rick finally woke up in that dark hospital room, he at first wondered where in the hell he was. Rick was confused because this was not his and Lori's bedroom. There were no hideous, frilly, mint-green curtains that he despised hanging over the window, or an extra-large wardrobe that Rick hated with a passion because it made the room look and feel so much smaller. Every time he went into his so-called sanctuary, Rick felt anything but serene. It felt dark and cramped. It perfectly mimicked how Rick felt in his life too. Stifled and Restricted. Based on the trajectory of their marriage, Rick and Lori's shared bedroom would have felt overcrowded even if it was completely empty of all furniture and with only the two of them standing in the middle of it. But Lori demanded that monstrosity so that she could tell her friends that she had the expensive piece that she knew Rick really could not afford. To stop the argument that they seemed to have more and more of lately and over every little thing, Rick reluctantly bought for her. The urge to take a sledgehammer to the gigantic eyesore and also his marriage certificate grew greater every time Rick walked into that bedroom. But that mess of a room is not where Rick woke up.

Rick looked around the strange room and noticed an IV bag and was puzzled. He squinted his eyes and took a closer look; it was bone dry as if it had not been changed in weeks. His eyes followed the empty bag down to the tubes that dangled from the end of the plastic and then to his arm. 'A hospital?' Rick deduced and closed his eyes in concentration. Once Rick was CLEAR where he was, he tried to remember exactly how he got there.

The last thing Rick recollected was a car chase, and him and Shane pulling a gun on two men, then a loud BANG. Yes, now Rick remembered. He was shot. Rick pictured Shane frantically yelling above him, but he could not understand the words as if Shane were speaking a different language. Or maybe Shane was just whispering, and he just could not hear his best friend and partner. After that, Rick recalled nothing but a bunch of constant noise that sounded like he was trying to listen from underwater. Everything sounded muddled. Then the beeps started, and they were constant, causing Rick's ears to ring and there were always people incessantly speaking around him. Then frantic screams and finally, peace. For a while Rick heard nothing at all.

Rick rapidly shot up in bed as if it were a normal day and winced at the ache that ran throughout his body and paused. He sat up too fast and rattled some muscles and nerves that evidently have not been used in a while and he wondered exactly how long he had been laying there. Once he was sat upright, Rick reached and pulled the tube from his nose then from his arm and, as he dangled his feet from the edge of the bed, Rick kicked his legs around to try and wake them up. As he did, he listened for the normal hustle and bustle of a hospital and heard nothing. It was unusually silent. He scanned the room again, and his eyes landed on was a vase of dead flowers at his bedside. Rick's face soured. Lori. Rick took in a distasteful breath and scoffed that his wife could not even manage to keep a fresh floral arrangement near his bedside, or at least throw the dead ones away. Then he shook his head and wondered about the last time Lori even visited. His next thought was of Carl. Surely, Lori would not keep their son away and chalked the dead flowers up to more of his wife's poor housekeeping and selfishness.

It took Rick a minute to get his body functioning, and once he did, he made his way to the door and opened it. Rick stood perplexed as to why, in the ever-loving hell, a whole ass hospital bed was blocking his exit. He looked for someone to help him move it because it seems the wheels were locked, but there was not a soul in sight. He wiggled his arms in a similar fashion as he did his legs moments before and with a little extra exertion to do something that would have normally been easy for him before being shot, he pushed the bed away to clear the exit. Rick huffed out a semi-exhausted breath and when he stepped out into the hallway, there was nothing but a mess. Trash, medical supplies, bed sheets, patient charts all littered the floor. There were no sounds, no people, just nothing. Rick at first thought that maybe it was the middle of the night shift change, but when he turned to the window, it was sunny outside.

Rick found it strange that the windows were darkened with layers of dirt and filth, but he could still see the sunrays as they ran across the corridor through the muck. Then he panicked. Rick had a notion that he was actually still in his coma, and he was just in a lucid dream and turned his head back towards his hospital room. Rick contemplated going back to see if his physical body was still laying in the bed. He closed his eyes and pinched himself several times instead. It hurt. 'Hurt is good,' Rick thought. Rick took a deep breath and when he opened those blue eyes of his, he was still standing in the middle of rubble. But he had to know for sure because what was happening around him made no sense. Rick took a few steps, slowly walking backwards until he got to the opening of his former hospital room, and peeked in. Empty.

"Thank God," Rick tried to utter out loud, but his mouth was too dry, and his words were raspy.

Rick made his way to the nurse's station to ask for some water. Empty. He stepped behind the counter and found a half-opened bottle and scrunched his nose in slight revulsion that someone else's mouth had been on that bottle, but he needed to drink. As he took a sip, his eyes darted around, and Rick supposed that maybe the hospital was attacked. Maybe some hijackers stormed the building, and this was the chaos they left in their unlawful and felonious wake.

"But why would they attack a small-town hospital?" Rick wondered out loud at the sheer ludicrousness of his thought.

Rick took another sip and noticed the calendar on the desk. June. Rick put the water bottle down stunned and looked around for other indications that three months had passed.

"June? What the fuck?" Rick gruffed out through a still dry, hoarse throat and looked at some admittance paperwork, all with a June date.

The last time Rick remembered being awake was early March.

"Three months? Was I in a fucking coma for three months?" Asked Rick to himself then wondered how long the hospital had been empty because maybe it was even longer than that.

Rick wondered if it was even still June and then swallowed the rest of the water.

Once his throat was better lubricated, he shouted down the hall 'HELLO!' but no response. Rick ambled slowly down the oddly empty corridor trying to get the muddled thoughts in his head to make sense of the world around him. As he walked down the hallway, Rick looked inside other hospital rooms for other patients. Empty. Rick came to the end of the hallway, and stood half confused and half frightened in front of a large set of double doors that held an ominous message, DON'T OPEN, DEAD INSIDE. Rick was now even more baffled and as he took a step towards the door and placed his ear flush against the cold steel. He jumped back after hearing the most unnatural of sounds. Human sounds, but not quite. Gurgled groans and raspy breathing intermingled to form a singular horrific symphony that he believed if he kept listening to, he would go mad. Rick took two giant terror-filled and unsteady steps backwards and was appreciative of the warning about the dead behind the doors as he staggered around to find another way out. Rick wondered exactly what the message meant, but he was not willing to open those doors to find out.

As Rick hobbled down the hallway on uneasy legs that had not been used in four months, he thought of his son again, Carl, and prayed that his boy was okay. Then Rick thought of Lori and, although apprehensive, he held out hope that whatever was going on in King County, she was keeping their son safe. Rick tensed his jaw knowing that while Lori fiercely loved her son, she was basically helpless. She was too stubborn and self-righteous to ever do anything to change her problematic situation. Rick always hated that about her. At first, he had hopes that Lori would change and encouraged her to do so over the years of their marriage, but she never did. Rick tried to take her to the shooting range, and after shooting one round, Lori complained it hurt her hand and did not like the recoil she experienced after she pulled the trigger. Lori walked out of the establishment demanding Rick take her home, less than ten minutes into their one-hour session.

Rick attempted to urge Lori to take a self-defense class that the deputies held once a month, but she refused that too. "You are always out there protecting everybody else, try protecting your own family, Rick! Why do I need to do it?" Lori spat when he suggested the course then walked off to finish cooking the mediocre meal that always tasted like various versions of cardboard with a light dose of saltiness and whatever other flavor she attempted to add. Rick almost suggested that she take a cooking class out of spite but knew that would cause world war three in his home. Rick did not need that. They fought enough already. It was in these moments that Rick realized he hated that dependent personality trait of Lori's. Not annoyance, nor an extreme disliking, but rather pure, unadulterated hate. Rick always felt guilty because a husband should never hate anything about his wife, but he did. Rick hated her helplessness. Then he found other thangs to detest about her until one day, the word divorce rattled around in his head like a song. Every morning when he woke up beside her and every night when he pulled back to covers and lay as close to the edge of the bed away from her as possible, that song played in his brain. Every. Single. Day.

The best Rick could wish for was that his best friend Shane managed to get to Lori and Carl. But at the end of the day, Lori and Carl were his family and Rick needed to protect them from whatever happened in that hospital and from whatever was written in warning on that door. That was Rick's only mission as he lumbered towards the exit of the hospital and out into the parking lot, still in his hospital gown, ass out for all to witness. Rick did not much care who saw his butt in that moment. His only thought was to make his way to his family to shield them from danger.

When Rick finally stumbled out of that decrepit hospital filed with the dead, confused, and terrified at the total quiet and isolation around him, he had no clue what to make of it. He thought the desolate hospital was strange, but now the whole area around the hospital was seemingly abandoned also. Rick's mind was a jumbled mess, and he was unable to make one plus one equal two. Stepping fully outside, Rick looked around trying to figure out what the hell happened since he was in his coma. Rick deliberated again on exactly how long he was in that deep slumber and based on what he saw so far, he was relieved that someone had the wherewithal to block his hospital door to keep whatever was out here from getting to him.

It took some adjustment once he staggered into the full sunlight. Rick blinked excessively trying to get used to the brightness after being in the dark for so long. Rick placed his hand on his forehead and squinted his eyes and scanned the area. Next, Rick needed to adjust to the eerie quiet. Being a deputy sheriff on duty, all he heard was excessive and annoying noise all the damn time. Even in his coma, he still heard the beeps of the machines and faint voices talking to him. Now, all he heard were groans in the distance. Nothing else. No children laughing. No adults talking way too loud on their cell phones. No aggressive salesman on the sidewalks always trying to get you into their shop to buy, buy, buy. Just nothing but a grunt here and a groan there. The groans were unusual and strange, but not as odd at the quietness that enveloped the town. There were days on end when he and Shane were working, and Rick prayed for peace and quiet on their shift. Now, all he wanted was something to listen to besides the strange groaning. Rick would even take Shane's very detailed and shockingly dirty stories about his female conquests. What Rick really needed was someone to talk to and explain to him what the hell happened to the world right about now.

Lastly, Rick needed to adjust to understanding that the dead were now walking the earth. That one took a minute, or sixty. The first semi-person Rick saw was just a torso reaching for him. The man's lower half was gone. 'He should be dead,' Rick thought terrified, then looked around and noticed several people stumbling towards him, arms stretched as if they were trying to reach out to him. Rick called out to them for help, but when they got close enough, he realized that something was not quite right about them, and Rick made every effort to jog away. Running was impossible at that time. Rick's legs were still tingling from laying in a bed for four months. No matter how much his parents, or Shane, or sometimes even Lori, massaged his limbs as he lay unconscious in that bed, Rick still needed time for them to work with actual use. He did not want to risk falling and he took a deep breath of relief when he noticed the people never picked up speed. But they never stopped following, Rick noted. They just kept groaning and limping after him, reaching out trying to grab any part of him that they could, and based on the motion of their mouths, trying to bite.

Rick noticed a discarded bike and impatiently paddled on the bicycle meant for a small child in the direction of his home, to his family. He hoped. Rick watched as people he once knew, some he arrested several times, all act weirdly. None spoke, or shouted out 'Hey there, Deputy!' None made eye contact or even shot him the finger as some of the ones that frequented their county jail were prone to do. They just lumbered and groaned and reached out their arms. If Rick did not know any better, he could swear they were all sleepwalking. Rick turned away and just kept peddling faster towards his home.

Once he arrived, Rick ran inside his home. Empty. Just a house that had been ransacked. His and his family's stuff and thangs thrown everywhere like trash. Now Rick was even more panicked, and he tried to control his erratic breathing. He was stating to hyperventilate. Rick passing out in the middle of all this would not do him well. Rick realized if that happened, he might just never wake up. Or maybe he would wake up and become one of them. He shuddered at the thought. Rick stumbled out to his front yard, turning in all different directions wondering where his family could be and what he should do next. 'Shane,' he thought, and Rick was about to head that direction when suddenly, all he saw was the head of a shovel rapidly moving towards his face, then BAM, he felt a blow to his head and Rick was down.

After meeting Morgan, well more like after being assaulted by Morgan's son Duane, Rick followed the man and his child to the home they had been living in since the outbreak, and everything was explained. Rick was shocked and was close to not believing Morgan and chalking it up to him being delusional and a complete and total nutjob. But then Rick remembered all the shit he saw out there and took a deep breath and went to look out the window. Rick told Morgan his story, and it was Morgan's turned to be stunned.

"You were in a coma for the last four months, and just woke up to his?" Asked Morgan who was flabbergasted, his remark more of a statement than a question.

"Yes, how long ago did this happen?" Asked Rick.

"This all started going on almost seven weeks now," answered Morgan and watched as Rick clenched his jaw.

"This place, the military were here, but they hightailed it out after a while and it was every man for themselves. A lot of people, most people, were bitten early and turned, the rest left hoping that this was just happening in King County and not all over the nation. Some people, the military killed whether they were infected or not. That caused a damn riot. Duane and I stayed hidden. People were burning military vehicles and their home base. That's when the soldiers left. Then most others left too, except the dead. You are the first person, still alive, that I have seen in a while since those asshole soldiers left less than a week ago. At best Rick, your family made it out and are long gone at worst…," Morgan looked down at his feet and could not finish his sentence.

Rick knew what Morgan was implying but he quickly put that devastating possibility out of his head. 'Carl and Lori had to be alive, they had to', Rick thought as he continued to look out of the window for a moment longer then turned back to Morgan.

"Why are you still here?" Inquired Rick wondering why the kind man chose to stay in the walker infested town.

"My wife, she is one of them and I can't bring myself to put her down," answered a distressed Morgan.

Rick nodded and wondered if he found his wife, his son, Lori, and Carl, in that terrible state, would he have the courage to put them down and leave King County. Rick almost immediately decided that he would. Rick would never allow his family to live like that. NEVER. Rick figured he would try to convince his new friend to do the same for his wife in time.

Next, Rick needed to CLEAR King County.

"I need to make sure that they are not still here," Rick paused and swallowed hard before continuing, "walking around as one of them thangs. I need to CLEAR this area. I need to check. I need to know before I move on to look for them that they ain't here. I just need to know," stated an emphatic Rick looking out and scanning the front of the house again hoping not to see either stumbling about.

"I will help you, Rick. Maybe "clearing" as you say will help me clear my own mind. Help me do what I should have done weeks ago," offered Morgan who looked at Duane then back at Rick and nodded, "it's getting dark, let's start first thing in the morning."

That evening Morgan gave Rick a crash course on how to kill the dead. He informed Rick that he had to stab the brain, otherwise they just kept coming. Hungry. Always hungry. The first place they cleared was Shane's home. It was looted but empty. They made it Rick's parents, and they found the two roaming in the back yard along with a couple of their neighbors. Rick had to put both his mother and father down and they spent the day burying the two together in the same grave near a magnolia tree that his mother loved to sit under on warm evenings. It was heartbreaking, but there was no sign of Lori, or Carl there either.

Over the next few days, all Rick and Morgan did was CLEAR. They started with the open areas, the town square, and main streets, to thin the herd some. Doing so helped make it easier to move around the town. They used a knife to put them down, careful not to make much noise. Morgan emphasized during his lesson that the walkers seemed to be attracted by noise. After they put enough down and cleared an area, they moved the walkers and tossed them into the pond at the center of town, or they would stack them in various garages to CLEAR the dead and move them out of the way. Day after day, it was just Rick and Morgan putting down the dead as they searched for Lori and Carl, but Rick suggested that Duane join.

"Look Morgan, I aint telling you what decisions to make for your son, I'm just saying, if it were my son, I would teach him, help him to survive, to protect himself," Rick carefully informed his new friend.

"Yeah, you're right Rick. I just can't imagine losing him too. I think I would go insane," uttered Morgan with a shaky voice.

"If you don't teach him Morgan, that will happen sooner rather than later," Rick advised.

Soon, Duane joined the two men. Rick outfitted in his deputy uniform complete with a borrowed hat he found sitting on another deputy's desk. Rick's hat was missing from his home when he went to retrieve his uniform and his trusty colt python that was still locked inside his safe. Rick also had in his possession a machete that he found in the evidence locker at the old Sheriff's department. Morgan had his knife, and a gun that Rick found at the station. They were lucky that the looters did not look inside the third file cabinet drawer in the Sherriff's office where said man kept his extra gun tapped to the inside file drawer wall. Duane had a long, strong stick with a sharp knife secured to the end of it. The weapon allowed for Duane to not have to get close to a walker in order to kill it. Since Duane did not have a gun and until they were able to find another, Morgan also made sure Duane was never too far from his view.

Over the course of two long, arduous weeks, the three went house to house, slicing the heads clean off, or stabbing the dead in the head to put them down. Before each encounter, Rick said a silent prayer that he would not find his wife and son in whatever location they concentrated on that particular day. A few times they found some still living and they told him and Morgan to leave them be, which the two men did.

During the CLEARING, Rick and Morgan allowed Duane to practice when it was just one or two walkers lumbering around and Morgan and Rick would take over when there were a few too many. Duane took to the walker killing quickly, and on top of that, he was patient and brave, swallowing his fear. Duane never hesitated and never ran away. Morgan was proud and so was Rick. Rick imagined that if Carl were there, he would be just as courageous and just as skilled as Duane was becoming. Rick prayed every day that Carl was still alive and surviving and had hoped that him and his son would reunite soon. Rick felt deep down in his soul that Carl was alive and believed wholeheartedly that if his son was dead, he would feel that loss in his bones. In his soul. Since Rick did not feel that bleak emptiness, it gave him some hope. Rick desperately needed to hope. He needed to believe.

As the dead population of King County got smaller and smaller, Rick and Morgan thought it would be fine to start calling for Lori and Carl and for the next two days they shouted all over King County. That shouting bought out more dead, more than both men thought possible, and they spent days putting down those new walkers. For every call, they stabbed. Called. Stabbed. Called. Stabbed. All the calling they had been doing was bringing out the dead from the woods surrounding King County. Large groups at first, then fewer, then mostly one or two walkers at a time as the days progressed.

Finally, after the calling only brought a few walkers here and there, Rick thought it was evident that his family was no longer in the area and since shouting no longer produced more than one or two walkers at a time, if that, they stopped calling for Carl and Lori. The population of the dead in King County was much more manageable and if things were different, if Rick did not need to look for his family, he might have suggested they stay in King County and build a fortress. But Rick had yet to find Lori or Carl and if they were not in King County anymore, he needed to leave the town and look for them.

"I need to move on Morgan, and I sure would love it if you and your son would come with me," stated Rick sympathetically.

Rick knew the only way Morgan would leave, was if he finally decided to CLEAR his own dead. CLEAR his wife. Jenny.

"Yeah, I suppose so. Can you give me a few days? To do it I mean. To put her down. We can gather supplies and find reliable transportation and that will give me time to say goodbye. Give Duane time too?" Requested an anxious Morgan.

"Sure, but Morgan, in two days we go. We have been here for three weeks, and nothing is here anymore. Your wife is gone. She ain't in that body that is stumbling around anymore. My wife and son are gone too, but I don't have the blessing that you have of knowing where they are. Don't you think it's time for you and your son to move forward? If you don't, you and Duane will both die here. We need to move on, and I need to find my family so…" Rick started but before he could finish, he heard groans and turned to face the walker while reaching for his knife.

There were still a few walkers here and there that would come out, not many, but some. A few would stumble out of a building or home that may have been dormant when Rick and Morgan cleaned it out, or like Morgan's wife, trapped in a backyard and but managed to make it out. but most of the stragglers were from the woods. When Rick started calling for Lori and Carl the sheer number of walkers that lumbered out from the thick trees was staggering.

Rick and Morgan were surprised then figured they must have come from all the different neighborhoods that surrounded the woods. Maybe people trying to run from the dead or the military thinking shelter in the woods would be safe. Or maybe all the dead just wandered in there from the streets. Rick and Morgan had killed most of those wood dwelling walkers but realistically, with the dead now outnumbering the living, there was no way a person could ever really clean out a town, or even a small area for that matter. The walkers would just keep coming as long as there were living people and the promise of food. Rick supposed that some were just a little slower than others as they followed the pack out of the woods and into the town after all the noise from the calling. This straggler must have been one of the slower ones.

"I got em," Rick said and turned to dispatch the walker quickly, but he stopped in his tracks.

"Rick, Rick, you, ok?" Asked Morgan wondering why Rick stopped and quieted all of a sudden.

Rick stilled and lowered his head and started to cry. Morgan looked at the lumbering dead woman with the long chestnut hair. She was waifish thin, and Morgan wondered if she was always that small or was it just deterioration. Morgan gave the walker woman another look and decided her build was a natural one. It was probably close to what she looked like before the apocalypse. Morgan turned to give Rick his thoughts on the matter to make some light conversation as they dealt with yet another walker, but Morgan quickly realized Rick was struggling. Rick dropped to his knees sobbing and Morgan put two and two together.

"Your wife," Morgan whispered sadly as he looked back at the woman sluggishly lurching towards them desperate for a bite of flesh.

Rick nodded in affirmation. It was difficult to look at her like that. Rick, sitting on his knees watching Lori gradually approach questioned how Morgan could stomach looking at his wife in that dead state for as long as he did. It had only been a few minutes and Rick already wanted to put her down and bury her so that he would never have to observe his wife as death personified ever again. Rick wondered if he would ever be able to block that awful image of a dead Lori walking from his mind. Morgan was heartbroken for Rick. Morgan knew the firsthand devastation of watching a loved one turn into one of those things. Both of their wives now victims of The Walking Dead.

"Yes," Rick finally sputtered out, "that's Lori."

Rick gripped his knife tightly but was stopped by Morgan.

"We can leave her, here, with my wife," Morgan suggested as an alternative.

"No, I can't leave her like that. I won't." Rick spat upset with Morgan's suggestion after they just had a conversation about then need to put Jenney down.

Rick rose and shrugged out of Morgan's slight grip and moved slowly towards Lori, his wife of ten years. He had trouble looking at her in that dead, decomposed state. Rick stopped a few times on his way towards her and bent down with his hands on his knees. He felt nauseous. Rick thought he was going to vomit because that sick feeling was so overwhelming. The bile churned in his gut and rose up and into his throat with every step he took that brought him closer to the former Lori Grimes. What Rick felt in his belly was on par with the rot of his wife and Rick could hardly tolerate looking at her.

Rick took a deep breath, pushed the need to vomit down, and continued towards his dead wife with purposeful strides. Rick cried uncontrollably the closer he approached Lori. He and Lori had problems, but he would never wish this fate upon her. As the distance between the former husband and wife narrowed, Rick was repulsed by what she had become. What this new world turned her into, and he thought about Carl. Rick wondered if his little boy, his only son, was somewhere with lifeless eyes and decomposing flesh like his mother. By the time Rick was just a few feet in front of Lori, he thought the sadness would kill him. For his wife, but mostly what her turn possibly meant for Carl.

"I'm so sorry this happened to you. I'm so sorry I was not here to protect you," Rick wept then shut his eyes tight for a second, opened them, took a deep breath, and pushed his knife gently through Lori's ear and into her brain.

Rick wailed when she collapsed to the ground, dead for the final time. And he sat over his wife and sobbed for a long while. Morgan nodded and pulled Duane into a hug. Strengthened by Rick's mercy, Morgan knew what he needed to do. Not in a day or two. Not in an hour. But now. It was time to put his own wife, Jenny, down and let her rest in peace. Morgan knew Jenny would have not wanted her body to be used that way. Morgan told Duane to keep guard over Rick then left, walking sadly but determined to a particular house and entered through the back gate where the sole walker was still ambling about. His Jenny.

Morgan found that he had already mourned her. Cried for her. Morgan was ready to let her go, and much like Rick did to his own wife, he slid his knife through his Jenny's ear and put her down for good. Morgan said his final goodbye and using a nearby wheelbarrow, gently placed his wife inside and wheeled her back over to Rick and Duane. He gave Duane time to say his final goodbyes and Morgan noticed that his son had already mourned too. Morgan was ashamed that he allowed his son to wallow in the misery and torment of seeing his mother wander around like that for so long. Rick was right, he needed to start putting his son, who is safe and still among the living first before anything else. Duane finished his brief goodbye, something he already did when his mother died the first time, before she reanimated. Duane knew that thang walking around was not his mother but kept that to himself for the sake of his father. Morgan walked towards Rick and kneeled down to be eye level with his friend.

"Rick you ready to bury them," inquired Morgan touching his new friend on his shoulder.

"Them?" Asked Rick as he sniffed and looked Morgan in the eye confused.

"I put her down. I put her down," Morgan uttered, eyes lowered but there were no more tears for him to shed as he turned and looked towards the wheelbarrow then to Duane.

Rick nodded and sobered a bit at a realization.

"She came from that way," Rick said as he pointed in the direction of the clearing that Lori stumbled out of, "I just need to see where she came from. See if my son might be there also. If he is, and he is like, well if he is then I can bury him too."

Rick broke down crying at the thought that he may have to bury his only son. He wanted to be positive, but if Lori was dead, how could Carl survive. His only hope was Shane now. Morgan nodded and sent Duane back inside the house.

"Keep the door locked and don't look out of the windows and don't make any noise. Understand? You know the routine. Rick and I will be right back, you hear?" Commanded Morgan as he walked his son back to the home they have been living in since the start of the apocalypse and one they now shared with Rick.

Once Duane was safely inside the house, Morgan and Rick carefully made their way to the clearing and followed the path.

"I'm surprised Lori did not come out sooner," spoke Morgan, "I thought all the calling brought out most of the dead already. It's pretty empty out here."

Rick knew what Morgan was trying to do and he appreciated it. Morgan was making a good effort to give him hope that his son was not one of the dead. But what Morgan was saying although true, was equally odd. So many dead had roamed out of the nearby woods that he thought most of what was out there, at least in the vicinity of King County, was already dealt with. But a straggler or two was of course not out of the ordinary. But Lori stumbling out seemed peculiar. It seemed random and out of the blue. Rick and Morgan were not making noise or calling for Rick's family, they were just talking quietly in the courtyard about the necessity of putting Jenny down. Rick scanned the area as they walked through the woods and there seemed to be no other walkers in the general vicinity. Except Lori. It was strange and perplexing.

"Yeah," was the only thing that Rick could utter, his mind too conflicted with thoughts of seeing his little boy wandering about woods with dead eyes made him unable to form coherent sentence.

As Morgan and Rick followed the path, they saw a walker struggling up in a tree. It was too big to be Carl, it was a man, or what used to be a man, impaled on a tree branch. It looked like he tried to jump down when he was alive and became impaled or was up in the tree house and died and fell and became skewered to the tree. Rick could not tell which. When Rick looked up at the treehouse again, he figured it was the latter since the branch was jutted upwards just under and to the left of the dwelling. A living, breathing man would not have jumped from that height. They definitely would have climbed down safely if they were smart and if they were able.

"I wonder if she came from there. Lori had leaves in her hair. Maybe that's where she was hiding and after she…. after, maybe she dropped out of the tree. But how in the hell did she make it all the way to where we were from out here?" Rick wondered out loud noticing how quiet it was between the where they were and the center of King County.

Rick looked around and listened for any noise that might lead walkers that general direction. Nothing.

"Maybe she was following an animal," Morgan reasoned, and Rick seemed to find that idea plausible and slowly nodded but still slightly unsure, "You recognize him?" Asked Morgan as he looked back up at the man who was growling desperately trying to reach for them both.

Rick walked around to the other side because the man was impaled with his back facing them and upside down and Rick nodded to himself.

"Yeah, I think he definitely fell from the treehouse. Looks like he fell forward and got trapped on that branch," Rick guessed correctly.

When Rick moved around so see the walker's face, he bowed his head. Shane. His friend since kindergarten. His brother. If Shane was dead that meant it was highly likely that Carl was too. Rick's only hope for his son's survival were dashed.

"That's Shane. My best friend," Rick sniffed and tried to hold back the tears, "Carl must still be inside the tree house. I need to get up there. CARL!" Rick called.

No movement.

"Hey, I am so sorry man. Look, I noticed when we were putting down the dead that every one of these suburban houses had a ladder in the garage. Let me go to the nearest one and grab it, then we climb up safely. Please Rick. Don't try to go up there before I get back, ok?" Plead Morgan.

Rick nodded. He was in no hurry to confirm that his son was likely inside that treehouse. Dead. Morgan ran to get the ladder and Rick kept his eyes darting at the entrance to the tree house, and his immediate surroundings. Once Morgan got back, he begged Rick to let him go check for him.

"No, I need to do this myself Morgan, but thanks for offering. Can you hold the ladder steady for me?" Rick asked as he began the climb up the tree.

They placed the ladder close to the right edge of the treehouse, just out of reach from Shane. The ladder did not reach all the way up, but it was close enough where Rick could pull himself in, but it also left him vulnerable for a few seconds to get bitten while he did. Rick climbed down, picked up a rock and threw it inside the treehouse. Nothing. Mostly Rick was not ready to see what was inside that treehouse just yet.

"I guess it's empty," stated Morgan hoping that Carl was not inside.

There was a possibility that Shane put Carl down after he died so that his little boy could not turn before he himself became impaled on that tree. Rick doubted Lori could do something like that.

"Or Shane put Carl down before he turned or before Lori turned?" Answered Rick with as a more plausible explanation.

"Tell me about Carl. I know this is not a good time Rick, but we have been so busy looking for your family that we never talked about them," Morgan inquired trying to keep Rick's mind clear and focused and sane.

Rick smiled widely, before his eyes glistened with tears looking up at the treehouse.

"Carl was nine years old and beautiful. He was always happy and loved adventures. He had the best manners and was so helpful to everyone. He was so smart. I think he was even smarter than me," Rick laughed as cried at the same time.

"He sounds like a terrific kid Rick, and it sounds like Carl had a wonderful father and mother if Carl had those qualities," Morgan tried to assure.

Rick nodded and smiled and gave his new friend a pat on the back then took a deep breath and began to climb up the ladder. Once Rick pulled himself in, it was quiet for a few minutes and Morgan got anxious.

"RICK?" Morgan called then again two more times before he got a response.

"He ain't here, its empty. He aint here," Rick informed as she stared down at Morgan, "He aint here, but he was. This is his jacket," Rick uttered not knowing if that was good news or bad.

Rick decided it was good news because it meant there was a chance his son escaped and was out there somewhere waiting for Rick to find him.

Rick stood at the entrance of the treehouse holding his son's little red jacket and gripping it tightly. He put the article of clothing to his nose to try and breathe in the scent of his son. To see if he could still smell Carl on the garment. Rick caught it and smiled. A little bit of woods and dirt, with a tiny bit of a musty scent thrown in for good measure. Rick laughed when thought about how difficult it was to get Carl to take a bath. Rick took another whiff and just underneath was the faint smell of citrus and spices and a tad bit of vanilla. Rick's old body wash. After Lori would not stop buying what Carl considered "kiddy soap," Carl proclaimed he was a man and would squeeze a glob of his father's body wash into his hand and slowly walked it back to his own bathroom then slater it all over in the shower. Rick took a final whiff and had a disturbing thought.

With both Shane and Lori dead, Rick became even more frightened for Carl. He was out there somewhere alone, dead, or alive, but alone, nonetheless. After another minute, Rick placed the jacket inside of his shirt and climbed down and began to wander around the immediate area and called for his son, with Morgan joining in. Nothing. When Morgan looked up again at Shane, he noticed a piece of paper dangling from a string on his wrist. It was odd for it to have been there. Morgan moved the ladder over climbed up and pulled the string from walker Shane's wrist until it snapped. Morgan read the letter and took a deep breath. It would not be good news for Rick.

"Hey Rick," Morgan called halfway down the ladder.

Rick looked up curious as to why Morgan had climbed up in the first place. He guessed it was maybe to put Shane down, but Shane was still growling and reaching for Morgan. Rick thought he would need to figure out a safe way to remove Shane from the tree and bury him too. As of right now, it was too risky to kill him and pull Shane out of the tree safely.

"What's going on Morgan," asked a perplexed Rick.

"I noticed a letter dangling from Shane's wrist and well," Morgan stopped and handed the letter over to Rick.

"Rick just so you know, the date on that letter was three weeks ago, seems like right about the time you woke up," Morgan said sadly.

Rick read the letter out loud.

To Whom It May Concern, Even IF It Don't! Read it!" Rick laughed out loud, "It's long but fuck, I figure all I got is time so I'm gonna use this here pencil and the back of these here fucking fliers for Jim's ice cream grand opening I found in here. Some greedy kid must have been hoarding em for the coupons. So like I said, I got plenty paper so might as well kill some time, I guess. Hell, it beats listening to Lori.

Shane had a sense of humor even at the end. Rick continued after eyeing the date.

"My name is Shane Walsh, and I am a, or was a Deputy with the King County Police Department before the fucking dead started walking the earth. I am with my best friend's family, his wife Lori Grimes, and his son Carl Grimes. Rick Grimes, my best friend, was in a coma when this shit started, and I don't suspect he survived. I told Lori and Carl that he died though. I needed them to come with me, and Carl would have demanded to go check on Rick and that was just too dangerous. I don't think Rick would have wanted me to let his son risk his life like that. So I told them that Rick was dead. I figured that he was anyway. The man was in a coma. How could he have survived? Shit even with me pushing that bed against his door I doubt he could!"

"So that's how that bed got there," murmured Rick then went back to reading.

We managed to make it out of town and away from those military bastards who basically just started fending for themselves after killing good people, which then started a damn riot. Motherfuckers were of no help at all. They meant to kill us all. Would have if we didn't all fight back. We were able to stay safe in a small cabin in the woods until the chaos blew over, but we traded one problem for another. After the riots and shooting, the number of dead intensified. They were everywhere and we had to go, or we would have been trapped inside that cabin.

I made the mistake of taking a shortcut though the woods to get to the other side where I kept my stash of guns in the bunker of my lake house. Ok, like Rick used to say, it was more an outhouse than a lake house because only one person could fit inside at a time. HA! It was small, but it was mine and I would remind Rick that on more than one occasion, his narrow ass was squeezed in my little fishing shack right along with me. I miss that curly headed country asshole.

"I miss you too Shane," Rick muttered and chuckled through his tears and then continued reading the back of the next flyer out loud.

Anyway, before we could get there, we got surrounded by the dead. Those bastards came out of nowhere before we could make it there. There were a damn shit ton of them. I could have made it out, but I could not leave my best friend's family out in this shit without help, they would not have survived it, so I tried to fight them back, alone," Rick paused and thought about Lori, sure she did not step up and help Shane fight them off.

That was a point of contention between the two when they were married. Or at least one of many. Rick knew deep down that if he would have awoken from his coma and the world was as it was before, he and Lori would be divorced within the year. He was tired of the damsel in distress default of hers. He was tired of the complaining about what they did not have but refused to get a job. Rick was tired of carrying the burden alone. All these thoughts that ran through Rick's head before he was shot all came flooding back again. Rick wanted a partner in life. Always has. It was not a secret that Rick would not have willingly chose Lori, rather he married her because she was pregnant. Rick slipped up in a moment of weakness and he had been paying for that eight-minute mistake for the last ten years. And the sex was not even that good. Lori kept complaining about his size the whole time and at one point he just wanted to get it over with. Rick regretted not pulling out and ending the whole disaster but being young he kept going until he accidently spilled inside of her, but she was on the pill. At least that is what she told him, and he mistakenly believed her.

It hit Rick that with the state of the new world, his chance at finding his dream woman were probably dashed just like his dream of seeing his son again, dead, or alive might be slim to none also. Rick took a deep breath, sorry that his friend had to die the way he that he did and finished reading the letter.

"I was able to clear those dead bastards, enough so that we were able to get away, and up into this here treehouse I'm writing this letter in. Hindsight is a bitch ain't it? We traded getting stuck in a treehouse for the damn cabin. Anyway, I hope somebody finds this. Finds us. Like I said, I tried my damndest, especially for Carl, but It was too many, and I got bit. There were rumors floating around about what happens if one of those monsters sinks their teeth into you, and it must be true. I have a fever. I told Lori to run, but she just stood there screaming. Carl tried to pull her away, but she would not budge. She was frozen in terror. Then Lori was bitten too. It could have been avoided if Lori would have gotten a little courage to take and protect Carl, but I think she was too scared to make it out here in this on her own. That woman has no gumption. No wherewithal. But Carl does! That boy is a damn fireball of bravery! A walker ended up getting Lori at the ankle. I saw it. I whispered to Carl what was coming. I hope that boy makes it. He is a great kid."

I noticed this here treehouse and helped them climb up. Carl did not need it. That boy was up before I could blink. I was proud. Lori, I had to help, and it was a damn struggle. With all the dead approaching, she still managed to be dead weight. Damn terrible. And once we were up there, well it just got worse. Looks like my best friend was not exaggerating about her nagging like I always thought he was. Anyway, I am dying, and I just wanted someone to know my name, Shane Walsh, and that I existed, and most importantly, that I tried. I really did. I wish Rick was with me. I think we could have made it and survived all this shit if he was. I'm sorry I won't be there to help Carl. I pray someone good finds him. I hope he lives."

Shane Walsh

Rick finished the letter and wept for his friend and for his son.

"Rick, he sounded like a good man. Let's cut him down, and we can try and search the area again."

Rick nodded, but he knew his son was gone. Whether gone away or gone dead remained to be seen. The letter was written so long ago. Rick could only hope that he was found and taken care of and did not succumb to the outbreak and lumbering around like that poor little girl holding her teddy bear he saw when he first left the hospital. Rick knew he would never stop looking and hoping that Carl survived. Without that hope, Rick did not think he would be long in this miserable life.

Morgan left to get Duane's homemade stick/knife weapon and the wheelbarrow, while Rick searched the immediate just in case Carl might still be in the woods, but the search was just a halfhearted attempt. Once Morgan returned, they managed to stab Shane through the head, and it took another thirty minutes before Shane finally fell from the tree. Rick and Morgan placed him in the barrow and wheeled him back and buried their dead. Afterwards, they packed up as much as they could travel with, found a good vehicle, and made a stop at Shane's shack where he kept his secret stash of weapons. Rick and Morgan were amazed at all the guns and knives Shane had amassed.

"Damn Rick, was your friend about to start World War Three!" Chuckled Morgan as he perused the enormous amount of weaponry.

"Last I saw, it was only a third of this. What in the hell was Shane doing?" Laughed Rick who knew his friend meant no harm and was just an avid collector.

Shane just liked buying weapons and would often go to auctions to get the best deals. Even Shane knew his hobby had gotten out of control. He had not added too much to his stockpile in a few years because what he had amassed was already excessive. Shane instead decided to start buying collectors' items instead and showcased them in his home. Most of those were stolen when all the looting began early on in the outbreak. Most of the pieces were of no use anyway, only decorative items that only a collector would value, that's why Shane left them in his living room showcase instead of taking them with him in the first place. But the weapons in his stockpile, those were certainly not just to look at. And to top it all off, there was also plenty of ammunition.

They packed as many weapons as they could, and Rick buried the rest, not wanting to chance that someone would come across the little bunker hidden in the woods of King County.

"Why are you burying all this Rick?" Asked a perplexed Morgan.

"In case we need it later, we will always have a place to get what we need, hopefully," replied a strategizing, Rick, "besides, we don't want anybody else to find these."

And finally, Rick needed to CLEAR his doubt.

Rick all of a sudden was hit with a peculiar feeling about his son. His gut was knocking on the door inside of his mind and also the one in his heart trying to convince him to have a little faith that Carl was still alive and with someone who was taking good care of him until they could find their way back one another. Fate had a plan for father and son and Rick held on to that belief when he remembered what his father used to tell him from time to time.

"Fate Is fickle until it ain't," spoke Rick, "I think finally understand what my daddy meant by that."

"What did he mean," Asked an interested Morgan who loved a good bit of philosophy.

Rick pat the dirt level with his shovel over the buried weapons and stood straight up then leaned on the shovel that he was gripping in his hand. Morgan watched as a reflective Rick thought of the right words to say.

"Well, I think my daddy meant that fate has a plan for us all no matter what we do, and sometimes Fate is funny, you know, it likes to play with you a little bit. Throw you some curve balls. Likes to be capricious my daddy used to say. Fate was fickle with me a Lori. We were never meant to make it in the long run but being with her was preparing me for something more serious. Something more consistent and stable. Something better. Preparing me for Carl and probably for all this. I had to get through the frivolous part to be ready for the important part that Fate has in store for me. I think this right here, is the important part. But not all of it. There something waiting for me out there and I will eventually find it. I would like to believe that Fate planned for Carl to play a significant role too. I feel it in my gut that not only is Carl still alive, but he is also playing a very critical role and doing his part in making what's meant to be actually happen. Me and Carl ain't in the fickle part of fate anymore. Fate has me traveling down a serious road now, and you and Duane are part of it now too." answered a reflective Rick then smiled as he looked Morgan with a renewed sense of faith.

"I never heard it put that way, hmmm Fate is Fickle Until It Ain't. I like that Rick," replied Morgan as he thought about how significant Rick and his father's idea was, "Your father sounds like a smart man."

"He was. He taught me a lot and my dad is the reason why I don't think Fate is done with me and Carl," grinned Rick, "I have a feeling that we will see each other again. We have to. It's meant to be. It's Fate!"

After they packed up the car with the weapons, food, and other supplies that Shane squirreled away inside his tiny little fishing hut, Rick, Morgan, and Duane got on the road headed north, away from Atlanta, which they figured was overrun anyway, and always, ALWAYS, on the lookout for a small, cute, freckle faced kid with chestnut hair and bright blue eyes just like his daddy's.