Yowza! Firstly, thank you all that have read and reviewed and followed my story. I love reading your comments, they truly make my day. Secondly, apologies for how long this update took. I hope the wait wasn't too long, enjoy!

Chapter Five: Anger Make You Stupid

The fight's over. You've gotta let it go.

"Rick, you there?" Morgan's voice from the phone echoed in the bathroom. "I'm sorry man, I'm real sorry."

I know it's hard. After it kept you warm and fed and alive.

"If you're still there, I'll bring you the obituary when I see next time."

But the fight, it turns on you. Gotta let it go.

…

Rick stared at himself in the mirror, his eyes were bloodshot and swollen. It'd only been a couple days and he was already sporting stubble, he took his eyes off his reflection and eyed the razor on the counter. Picking up the shaving cream, he squeeze a glob of green gel into his hand and spread it all over his lower face. Then he picked up his razor and began shaving.

I'm still with you.

His hands were moving, but there were no thought behind his movements, as he dragged the razor across his skin. Rick hands remained steady even when his skin broke and blood dripped down his chin into the sink.

Tears stung as they came in contact with the open wound. He didn't think he had any left, but his hands shook as he cried harder. He took a deep breath and then let it out and focused on his reflection. His arm was starting to ache, his other hand reached up to his neck, touching the jugular vein that was popping out.

"Dad?"

Carl was on the other side of the door, softly knocking. Rick put down the razor and rinse his face in the lukewarm water. Drying off, the cut was still bleeding, he opened the medicine cabinet and rummaged for bandages. Finding what he needed, Rick placed a Mickey Mouse styled bandage on his wound.

"Dad?"

Rick opened the door, Carl stood there with comic in hand and Lucy by his side. When he gazed up at his dad, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Carl," Rick bent down and scratched behind Lucy's ears who wagged her tail in appreciation and moved passed him, finding herself a comfy spot to rest on the bathroom rug.

"Mom wanted to know if you were ready to go."

Rick sighed, "yeah, gotta get dress." He had hoped that if he took his time getting ready that would leave without him.

"Don't forget the fishing poles, dad. Patrick wants to try fishing."

"Patrick? Who's Patrick?"

"My friend," Carl said frowning. "He came over last week, you were here."

"His parents letting him play hooky?" Rick raised an eyebrow.

"His dad is laid-back," Carl stated with uncertainty and avoided eye-contact with Rick.

"He's not coming." Rick walked to his drawer to pick out his clothing for the day.

"Dad! I promise you, his dad will be cool with this, please." Rick pulled out a black shirt and blue jeans.

"No. This is supposed to be a family outing."

"Shane's coming."

Rick's shirt was halfway on when he paused, shaking his head, he then finished his task of clothing himself.

"Shane's family," Rick said, sitting on the bed and putting on his boots.

"I know," Carl sat down next to him, leaning back and kicking his legs on the frame. "He's your best friend and Patrick's mine."

"How long have you've known Patrick?"

"Two months." Rick laughed and gestured for Carl to get up, he reached over and grabbed his watch.

"No," he said firmly. He whistled low to Lucy, she perked up and left her comfy spot to walk towards them.

"Mom said it was ok." Carl continued, his tone light and cautious as if he was poking around inside his dad's head, trying to find the 'yes' switch.

"She isn't Patrick's mom."

"His mom's dead." Rick swallowed, Carl folded and unfolded the comic, shuffling back and forth on the heels of his shoes. "That's why they moved down here. He said his baby sister killed their mom."

"What?"

"It wasn't on purpose, it was when she had her," Carl clarified, this time looking his dad in the eye. Rick blinked back tears and quickly wiped his face.

"He can come," he said quietly. Carl grinned and threw his arms around Rick's legs.

"Thanks dad."

"Mmhmm" Rick coughed and headed back to the bathroom. "Give me a minute, I'll be downstairs," he said shutting the door.

He sat on the toilet seat and placed his head in the palm of his hands, he knew he was not going to make it through the day without dulling the pain. Rick reached for the prescription he was given, it was supposed to be a two week supply and there were only six left. He popped four in his mouth, turned the faucet on and drank from it, swallowing the pills. He took another look in the mirror and sneered.

"Carl doesn't deserve this. And she would knock me the hell out if she knew…" he gripped the sink unable to finish his sentence. "She probably didn't even know me."

His surroundings were starting to suffocate him, he opened the door again to see Lucy still in the bedroom. She walked to Rick and whimpered, Rick's sadness seemed to be affecting his dog. He bent down again and gave her a hug this time, she licked his neck and the side of his face, her efforts to make him better were successful.

"I know Lucy, I know. Rick Grimes needs to get his shit together."

…

Lake Conasauga was peaceful that afternoon and the weather decided to be kind to the group by staying at a comfortable mid-70s. Rick, Carl, and Patrick were sitting on the lake's deck, practicing their casting.

"You need to hold the rod at your waist," Rick moved Patrick's hand that was holding the fishing rod. "Now place your thumb here," Rick pointed to a button at the base of the reel.

Patrick clumsily did as he was told, maneuvering his arm to match Rick's instructions.

"Is this right?"

Rick nodded, Patrick's thick rim glasses were falling down the bridge of his nose due to sweat. He pushed them back up and moved his arm back. Rick moved so not to get hit with the bobber. Patrick then swung his arm forward, the line and bobber landed much further in the lake then his previous attempts.

"Good. Good. Now you want to let some of the line out. Not too fast, just pull it gently. Now that button you have your thumb on, you want to push and hold it." Patrick looked for Rick's approval, Rick gave it to him with another nod of his head.

Feeling confident that Patrick was getting a hang of casting, Rick walked over to where Carl sat. With his feet in the water, he seemed to be somewhere else.

"Caught anything?"

"Nope."

"Did you hook the bait in right?" Rick rolled up his pants legs and joined Carl.

"I know how to hook the bait," he said defensively.

"Just checking," Rick sat with his hands folded, not knowing what to say to his son that didn't involve a speech on the importance of staying safe.

"Dad, can I ask you a question?" Carl voice was low and he slightly turned his body away from Patrick.

Rick eyed his son's sudden serious expression and began kneading the palm of his hand.

"Go for it."

"Did I do something wrong?" Carl was bent over, staring at branches and leaves that had drifted into the water. Rick lowered his gaze and grimaced, despite the confusion and the grief he felt in his chest, he was still a father.

"No, you've done nothing wrong Carl," Rick placed his arm around him, pulling him closer and ruffling his hair. "I've been out of it for a couple of days, but it has nothing do to with you."

"Ok," Carl sounded unconvinced which pained Rick.

"Hey look at me," Carl gazed upward. Rick licked his lips and darted his eyes to Patrick and back to Carl. "I'm sorry. I love you and because I love you, I'll get better. I promise."

Carl nodded his head and gave a sheepishly smile. Rick felt semi relieved that Carl seemed to have accepted his apology.

"Mr. Grimes is there something else we could do?" Patrick piped in, Rick looked over at him still casting.

"It is boring," Carl added. Rick removed his arm from around and playfully grunted.

"You're the one who suggested fishing."

"Only because Patrick has never done it, I've been sitting here for hours and haven't caught anything." Carl moaned, reeling in his fishless hook.

Rick laughed, "Hours? We've only been out here for much less than that.

Patrick had already reeled in his line and bobber, he didn't know what to do with the line that he let out, and so he proceeded to wrap it around the fishing rod.

"My dad got the final copies of the new issue today, Carl."

Carl turned his head fast towards Patrick. Rick raised his eyebrows at Carl's sudden excitement.

"No way!" He exclaimed, "You have it?"

"It's in my bag."

"Your dad let you have it?" Carl got up and wiped his feet on a towel next to them.

"I borrowed it," Patrick said shrugging. Patrick's subtle way of saying he stole the comic didn't fly past Rick's head.

"And Mr…?" Rick asked.

"Berkman," Patrick replied.

"And Mr. Berkman's okay with you borrowing his work?" Rick asked sternly. Patrick crossed his arms and smiled.

"My dad's cool with it," his smile falter. Rick could see Carl biting his cheek and darting his eyes from Rick to Patrick. Rick decided it would be best to not press the issue. He got up from his spot as well and used the same towel to dry his feet.

"What's the name of this comic anyway?"

"The Walking Dead," Carl said, he pulled out the comic he's been carrying around since that morning and held it out for Rick to see.

The title rang alarm bells in Rick's mind. The walking dead was a phrase his grandfather used to describe how he made it through World War Two. Rick grabbed the comic from Carl and flipped through the pages. Images of decaying beings and groups of people shooting them down were all over those pages. Rick's breath hitched in the back of his throat and he stumbled as he took a step back, nearly dropping the comic in the water.

"It's about these monsters that have taken over the world. They were once human, but when they died they came back," Carl continued.

"Walkers?" Rick had a heavy feeling in his stomach. How is this possible?

"Yeah! You're reading it," Carl eyes gleamed, happy that his dad has finally taken an interest in something he liked. "My favorite character is Catania."

"Yeah, she's pretty cool," said Patrick. He shuffled on his feet, showing less enthusiasm than his friend. "My dad said she's his second favorite character."

Rick read through dialogue between a man who was missing a hand and a strikingly beautiful woman with a sword. She was expressing hurt for not being able to find her daughters. Rick flipped to the next page, and shook his head in disbelief. Alexandria's your home. Catania.

Rick closed the comics and breathe in hard, he shakily handed the comic to Carl.

"Dad, you okay?"

"I'll be back Carl."

Rick put his socks and boots back on. He stood up turning his back to the boys, he placed one hand on his waist and covered his mouth. His thoughts scrambling to understand.

"It's only a comic Mr. Grimes," Patrick called out to him, his words lacked the reassurance Rick needed.

"Dad?"

"I said I'll be back. I'm okay."

Rick saw ahead of him, Lori and Shane. Shane was grilling and Lori sat on top of the picnic table. Whatever they were talking about, Lori thought it was funny. She laughed heartily, her long hair blowing in her face from the wind.

Shane was equally enjoying the conversation. Rick shook his head, shaking away the confusion the comic book caused, but to no avail. He stalked closer to them, Lori stepped down from the table and stood next to Shane, both of their backs to Rick. He watched as she placed her hand on Shane's shoulder. Shane leaned in closer to her and whispered in her ear. Rick's face redden, despite the weather, a sheen of sweat broke on his cheeks and forehead. Shane and Lori were oblivious to Rick standing feet away. Rick's gaze fixated on their movements; the small smile on Lori's face when Shane pulled away and his hands moving Lori's hair from her face.

"Anything I should know?" They both turned around, Lori removed her hand and placed it in her jeans pocket.

"You remember when I set Lori's hair on fire? Tell your dear wife that I only singed a tiny piece, couldn't even tell." Shane grinned, he flipped over the burgers and nudged Lori.

"Yes, you could tell," Lori disputed. "I had to wear hats for the rest of the summer because of you," she sat back on the table, her jaw was clenched and she ran her other hand through her hair.

"What's wrong?" Rick asked. She shook her head.

"Nothing." They both looked at each other, trying to read the other.

"Well, your hair grew back. No harm, no foul," Shane said, he placed the finished burgers on a plate. He then opened the cooler that was sitting on the table by Lori and pulled out two beers. He then entered Rick's view, holding out one of the beers for him.

"Nah," Rick declined. Shane turned and offered the same beer to Lori which she accepted. Rick could hear Carl and Patrick in the distance talking, he turned his head to see that they were still by the lake, hunched over the comic whose contents gnawed on Rick's brain. Rick flex his fingers, trying to loosen up the tension in his hands.

Shane's laugh ringing in his ear made Rick gaze up. Shane was pointing his finger at Lori and each time she tried to grab it, he'd move it away.

"How long?" Rick heard himself speak, but he felt like someone else was the ventriloquist and he was the puppet.

"Rick?" Lori squinted her eyes and Shane took a swig from his beer.

"How long have you two been screwing behind my back?"

"Rick!" Lori's eyes widen.

"What!" Shane choked on his beer. "You better be…" Shane coughed in between his words. Rick was impetuous, their shock expressions did nothing to make him want to reevaluate his accusations.

"I'd prefer not waiting until the world goes to shit for you two to tell me the truth."

"Are you out of your mind," Lori got up and walked to Rick, her tone was low and carefully controlled and her eyes bounced between Rick and Carl's location. "Do you hear yourself?"

"Man, did you start drinking before we got here? Not fair," Shane lightly chuckled and swallowed more beer.

"You think this is funny," Rick spat. He stalked towards Shane only to be stopped by Lori stepping in between them. "I want the truth," he said eyeing Shane. "I'm owed the truth," he said more quietly, turning his gaze to Lori.

"You need help," she replied. Rick nostrils flared, "Shane and I are not sleeping together. You have a lot of nerve," she huffed.

"Rick I would never step over that line. I'm an asshole, but you're my brother. And Lori loves you, what you're doing is madness."

Rick closed his eyes. What was once fragmented memories and darkness became clearer in his mind, whether those memories were real or not, Rick didn't care. He remembered what Lori and Shane put him through. He opened his eyes and tilted his head.

"You stay away from my family," Rick forcibly moved Lori out of his face. Shane glowered.

"Get out of my face, man." Shane lifted his chin and raised his chest.

"Stop, now," Lori grabbed Rick's arm and tried to pull him away from Shane. "Why are you doing this?"

Rick pulled away from Lori's grasp and backed away. "You have a lot of nerve to act this way in front of our son," Lori continued. If Carl knew there was commotion, he was doing a great job pretending to not notice. "Shane is not just your friend, he's mine as well and he is helping me while you lose your shit." She then scoffed, "I should be the one wondering if you're cheating on me, who's Michonne?"

Rick painfully stared at Lori, the very mention of Michonne's name were bringing forth the tears.

"Oh my God," Lori gasped. She covered her mouth with her hand and then clutch her chest. Shane stepped forward, reaching out to her.

"Lori," Rick's voice strained, he felt as if he was holding onto his mind by his fingertips.

"Let's all... let's all just calm down. And talk this out," Shane suggested.

"I should have known," she whispered. "You came up with some cockamamie story about nightmares to cover up your lies. It makes so much sense."

"There is no Michonne," Rick's said sullenly.

"Screw you," she spat. Her hands balled into fists, she shook her head and turn to Shane. Shane open his arms and gave her a hug which only reignited Rick's anger.

Rick marched back to them and shoved Shane.

"I said stay away from them. I don't trust you," Rick hissed. Shane looked up at the sky and clicked his tongue and then back at Rick.

"I said enough Rick," Lori tried to step in between them again, but Rick got right into Shane's face.

"You want to do this man," Shane smiled, but it soon wavered. "In front of your son?"

"I know you. I know what you're capable of, my son will be fine without you in it."

"Humph, it's like that?" Shane raised his eyebrow.

"It's like that."

"See now, I don't think it's like that because the way you've been acting indicates to me that you're heading for an early grave."

"Shane, stop—"

"You're threatening me?" Rick's pulse quicken.

"I would never hurt you, you're my brother, but your son needs his father and your wife needs her husband and you sure the hell ain't acting like either."

Rick took one foot back and swung his fist, hitting Shane in the mouth.

"Rick!" Lori screamed out. "Shane, no!" Shane spit out blood that was collecting in his mouth from his lip and lunged for Rick, but Lori grabbed his arm and tried to keep him back. Rick squared up, ready for his best friend to attack.

"Dad!" Rick turned and saw Carl and Patrick running to them.

"Get out of here!" Lori shouted, "Leave Rick." Shane was pacing behind her, veins popping in his neck, and glaring holes into Rick. With Carl now present to the situation, Rick frowned and lowered his eyes. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he tried to count to ten, but his rage would not subside.

"Dad?" Carl breathlessly ran to his father's side, Rick went to reach out to him, but Lori pulled Carl to her and held him.

"Mom…" Carl groaned and wiggled.

"I said go," Lori repeated. Rick opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again. Lori's eyes narrowed and Carl looked confused.

"I'm sorry Carl," was all Rick could mustered, he turned away from all of them and headed for the car.

…

"Another one."

"Officer Grimes, you might want to slow down—"

"Rick. It's Rick."

The young bartender just nodded and filled Rick's glass with whiskey. Rick picked it up and gave her a salute and then drank the liquid in one gulp. The back of his throat burned and his eyes watered, but the immediate hazy effect made it worth it.

"Leave it," he instructed, the bartender was about to put away the half-empty bottle. She looked to be debating the pros and cons of cutting Rick off for the night.

Rick didn't wait for her to make a decision, he reached over and grabbed the bottle from her hand, he then dug in his pockets and pulled out his wallet. Removing two twenties, he placed it on the counter and looked at her. Frowning, she picked up the cash and left him alone to tend to other patrons.

Rick took his glass, bottle, and wallet and got up from the bar. Wobbling as he stood, he stopped for a moment to regain his balance before heading to the booth. It was in the darkest, furthest corner, away from the chatter and noise of those having a much better day than him.

Sitting down, he poured himself another drink. Filling the glass to the top, not caring that he was spilling the liquor all over the table and himself as he drowned his throat. He sat the glass down and stared at his hands in front of him, no matter how much he squinted his hands were still blurry. Rick's stomach rumbled, he needed food, but opted to fill his stomach with another glass of whiskey. Swallowing, he closed his eyes and allowed her to invade his thoughts.

"You promised Michonne," he said out loud. "You said we didn't die, we included you, but ya lied." Rick's speech was beginning to slur, his head bobbed up and down as he tried to fight off his drowsiness.

"I'm not crazy. What we had was real," he whispered. "I loved you, you made me fall in love with you only to disappear from my life. You and Lori are both liars."

He grabbed the almost empty whiskey bottle and poured more into his glass, but missed. Rick shrugged off his alcohol induced clumsiness and chugged the remaining whiskey, once empty, he tossed it across the table.

"You're going to take someone's eye out." The familiar voice temporarily woke him from his stupor.

"Go away."

"Rick? You want to talk about it?" Rick could hear the other person sitting down across from him.

"I don't remember giving you an invitation to sit."

"I'm a party crasher kind of guy!" The guy's smooth baritone voice broke into a laugh. Rick grunted, dismissing the man's joke and sat in silence, his thoughts clashed with each other like oceans waves against rocks. Thoughts of Michonne, thoughts of Lori.

"Rick?" He ignored the man from across the table, he wanted more whiskey and his stomach was turning into knots. Suddenly he began laughing, he opened his eyes to see Morgan who was only wearing a white dress shirt, his navy tie was loosen around the collar and his matching jacket was on the table. There was no sign of concern for Rick which was a relief.

"You think I'm nuts," Rick said to him.

"Why would you say that?"

"Cause from your perspective," Rick slurred the word perspective and wiped his mouth, "I'm mourning a stranger."

"She clearly was more than a stranger to you."

"Michonne was my light," he stopped laughing. He blinked his eyes a couple of times to keep from crying. "I know what you're thinking?" Morgan's face hadn't change. "What about your wife?" Rick said mockingly.

"I was given a second chance with my wife. But, how can I take advantage of it when I still have memories of her fucking my best friend. And this bullshit second chance came when I was happy with Michonne. She gets me, she would've known what to do, but she's gone."

Morgan lowered his brows and gazed at Rick, "I'll take you home."

"No. I'm good." Rick leaned over to the side, his head feeling too heavy to sit on his shoulders without support. He closed his eyes again, giving in to much needed sleep. He soon felt a tug on his arm, he lazily opened one eye to see Morgan. He shut it and sluggishly moved his arm away from the other man, his efforts caused him to bump his head on the wall.

"I have you friend, let me take you home." Rick felt his weight being shifted as Morgan pulled on his arm more forcibly. He made Morgan's efforts easier by scooting out of the booth. Rick put his hands out in front of him, he took one step and the room began spinning. "Whoa now, easy." Morgan gripped Rick's arm tighter.

"I said I was fwine," his speech becoming progressively worse, Rick shook his head. Morgan gave Rick no response except to continue to guide Rick out of the bar.

Like a toddler learning how to walk, Rick took slow small steps through the bar. He could see through his cloudy vision people looking at him and he tried to tune his ears to their conversations, listening for his name.

Soon, cool air hit and the smell of the outdoors hit his face. Rick made it to Morgan's SUV, Morgan opened the passenger door and helped Rick entered it. Rick tried to put his seatbelt on, but after one attempt he gave up and leaned his head back on the headrest. Morgan, instead, placed the seatbelt on Rick for him and closed the door.

Rick's thoughts replayed what happened at the lake, he was wrong, he knew he was wrong, but he shrugged his shoulders. The car shifted as Morgan entered into the driver's side and started up the ignition.

"I don't want to go home," Rick muttered. He glanced at Morgan and swallowed, "I can't."

Morgan smiled, "I've got you." Rick nodded and turned his head towards the window, he watched more people coming out of the bar as the car began moving and eventually he shut them all out, drifting into sleep.

Knock. Knock.

Rick woken and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He lifted his head and looked around the bedroom, squinting at the unfamiliar objects in the room. He laid his head back down and groaned into the pillow as yesterday's events replayed in his head.

Knock. Knock.

"Come in," he moved his legs off the bed and sat up. Yawning, he covered his mouth and wiped the crust from the corner of his mouth. A young black boy entered the room carrying a pile of neatly folded clothes and toiletries in his arms.

"My mom told me to give you this," the kid looked to be Carl's age, he had a small afro and chubby cheeks. Rick took the pile from his outreached hands.

"Thank you."

"There's a bathroom across the hall. Mom said feel free to get yourself presentable and dad said he wanted you to come down and eat." Rick nodded, the little boy eyed Rick, taking in the stranger's presence.

"What's your name?" Rick asked.

"Duane."

"Rick," Rick held out his hand for Duane to shake. Duane took it, Rick's hand encompass his, Duane smiled and Rick smiled back.

"I'm not allowed to call adults by their first name."

"Then you can call Mr. Grimes," Duane nodded and walked back to the door, he gave Rick another smile and closed the door.

…

Clean and refresh, Rick decided to keep his jeans on, but replaced his soiled shirt with what he assumed was one of Morgan's old college t-shirts. It had the words Morehouse printed across it, Rick cleaned up behind himself in the bathroom and walked out. His stomach began rumbling as he smelled bacon from downstairs.

Morgan's house was much bigger than Rick's, Rick observed that on the floor he was walking through there were about five rooms and a balcony that had plenty of room to lounge on.

Rick made his way downstairs, also, unlike his home, there were no pictures decorating the walls and there were boxes tucked all over the living room and one couch occupying the spacious space. Rick let his nose lead him into the dining area where Duane was already sitting there, eating his breakfast of eggs and bacon. The kitchen was just as spacious as the living room, but not as empty. Rick observed Morgan dancing with his wife, both of them laughing, he dipped her and then swung her around.

"Uhh uhh, I am too old for that," her voice was high and lively, she swatted Morgan away and distributed more scrambled eggs onto several plates.

"You are never too old to have fun, baby." Morgan put his arms around her waist from behind and kissed her neck. Rick turned his head, giving those two privacy.

"Hey," he said to Duane, he sat in the chair next to him.

"Hi," Duane said in between bites of food. Rick held his abdominal which was reminding him he hadn't had anything to eat since yesterday morning.

"Hey friend! Good morning!" Morgan cheerfully greeted Rick, he was carrying two plates of food. Rick began to get up, but Morgan shook his head. "Nope, sit down, here's a plate for you. Eat." Morgan sat down Rick's plate of delicious breakfast, Rick didn't hesitate to pick up his fork and started digging in.

"You want any coffee, Rick?" Morgan's wife came into the room making Rick look up from his plate. She was a very beautiful woman, regal, with a big bright smile.

Rick swallowed the chunk of food he had in his mouth, "Yes Ma'am."

"Please do not call me ma'am, Jenny, ok."

"Yes, Jenny." She walked to Rick's side and sat down a coffee cup, and poured fresh coffee into the cup. The aroma of the rich bean made Rick more alert and awake.

"Any sugar, cream."

"Nah, just black is what I need this morning," he nodded his gratitude for her hospitality and took a sip.

"You feeling better?" Morgan sat across from him with his own plate of food.

"Yeah, I'm good. Thank you," Rick twisted his wedding ring around his finger.

"I am truly sorry for not bringing you better news about Michonne." Rick made a quick jerk of his head and shoved more food in his mouth. "I have the obituary in my briefcase, if—"

"Morgan, let the man eat," Jenny sat down next to him and gave Rick a small smile. Rick appreciated her sympathy, but shook his head.

"It's fine. I don't need it Morgan." Rick met Morgan's eyes. Morgan eyebrows raised, but quickly lowered as he nodded his head. "But, if you don't mind me asking, how did she pass?"

"Duane, you done over there," Duane looked at his dad dejected, it seemed like he wanted to protest, but he got up from the table and left the dining area. Jenny grabbed Morgan's hand with hers and grimaced. Rick felt his heart racing again and even though his stomach was full of food, the ache didn't go away.

"It was a car accident," Morgan continued. "Drunk driver ran her off the road." Rick nodded and blink rapidly. "Was she married when you met her?"

"What?" Rick's eyes widen. "No, no."

"She left behind a son and a husband."

Rick bent his head down, his tears falling onto his eggs. His Michonne had a life and even if she was still alive, what right would he had to disrupt it based off a crazy assumption. Rick felt foolish, he didn't know what was wrong with him, but he decided in that moment he needed to move on.

"I'm here for you Rick. I don't know what she meant to you, but I'm here to help you move past this." Rick wiped his face and gazed up at Morgan and his wife Jenny. He mouthed the words 'thank you.'

"Daddy," Duane spoke behind Rick. All three adults turned to the young boy. "Someone's on the phone for you."

Morgan got up and walked around the table and out the room, Duane followed behind him, leaving only Rick and Jenny.

"I don't know if you know this, but Morgan's speaks the world of you. The few years you two knew each other had a profound effect on him." She beamed, happiness radiated from her bright face. "His words."

Rick didn't know what to say to that, he still didn't remember his past with Morgan, so he nodded.

Morgan shortly returned, "Hey, you wanna come with me?" He asked Rick.

"Where?"

"Crime scene. It's probably your day off, but I want your eyes and expertise by my side."

"You mean be your partner?"

"Yeah, just for a couple of hours. Try your hand at being a detective."

"Okay," Rick wasn't ready to go home anyway.

"Let's go."

…

Rick's stomach dropped when Morgan pulled up to the little house that Rick and Shane had just been at two days ago.

Getting out of the car, Rick gave Officer Kendal a nod, practically the entire Sheriff's department was here except for one glaring absence.

"Thought you had the day off," Kendal stepped around a group of officers to greet Rick.

"Morgan invited me."

"Yeah, the new detective," Kendal said with disdain in his voice. "Didn't take him long to get acquainted around here, been making moves like he's the new chief."

"He grew up here, Kendal. And we're not exactly the FBI."

"He grew up here? I knew you when you were still shitting in your diapers. That Morgan fellow, seen him for the first time a couple of days ago."

"How's Leon?" Rick asked, changing the subject. He didn't have the energy to figure out the conundrum that was wrapped around Morgan.

"Still in a coma," Kendal's eyes downturned as he spoke of his partner's condition. "Hoping he wakes up soon." Rick patted Kendal on the shoulder.

"I'll go visit him tomorrow. I'm heading inside."

"It's a blood bath in there." Rick's mouth dried and he was beginning to perspire, why did you bail him out?

The forensics team in their white suits were coming in and out carrying equipment. Morgan was walking ahead of him, he greeted another detective who face was paled and he was holding his mouth. Morgan looked behind at Rick and frowned, Rick grimaced.

Rick entered the home that he was previously denied from and immediately saw what was making the other detective sick. There was blood all over the TV, couches, walls and carpet. A woman, that was wearing the forensics suit handed both Rick and Morgan paper slippers and face masks. Putting on the protective items, Rick turned to the crime scene.

"What's your first thought," Morgan asked, he too was scanning the room.

"Anger," Rick observed the body in the middle of the floor. Despite the fact that the cranium was smashed beyond recognition, Rick knew who it was and was relieved. "The victim is Ed Peletier." He walked closer to the body, Ed's arms lain outward, the carpet and floor had a dent in it. Whatever blunt object that was used to kill Ed, hit the floor with enough force to dent it. Sweat trickled in Rick's eyes, there was familiarity to what he was seeing, but again, he couldn't remember why that was.

"WHY IS HE HERE?" Rick turned to the woman screaming, officers were holding Carol back. Her whole front dress was drenched in blood and tears streamed down her face. She pointed her finger at Rick as she struggled to move the officers out of her way.

"He killed my husband!"

Rick's mouth opened as everyone in the room turned and looked at him.

Shit.