T-Minus 91 Days Until Outbreak
Rick inhaled and exhaled violently, a hoarse ragged cough escaped from his throat as red flared beneath his closed eyelids. His throat and chest felt tight, finding it difficult to catch his breath. His chest tightened with each forceful breath as he attempted to calm his breathless coughing fit. Eyes of a bright blue flung open forcefully, as those brilliant eyes roved quickly around to scan the room he had awoken in. His mind was flashing with memories of things that shouldn't be possible.
Gnarly, hungry dead eyes with a horrid smell of rotting death surrounding those dead things. Their growls and moans of hunger echoed in his mind. The screams and cries of innocent and corrupt both, as they were devoured by those things rang in his ears. "Walkers," Rick murmured, as the name came to him in an abrupt flash of sudden insight.
He had died. His hand pressed down to the unbroken skin at his right side, just a couple inches above his hip, near the bottom of his ribcage. Rick could still recall the warm blood, the coppery scent of it, as it oozed steadily out of the hole in his side. Another mental conception flashed in his mind, at the realization. "I died…" he muttered, his sharp blue eyes scanned the room again. He had awoken in a room that he barely recognized. It was dark inside the room, a gloomy kind of blackness that encased everything, but not like when he had died. Before he had died, the world had contained pitch black shadows without a flashlight or candle. This darkness was a near shadowy blackness like one would find in the sunlight.
There was a dim streak of yellowish colored light coming from the drapes, that allowed him to see the shadowy outlines of a dresser, the door to what could be the bathroom or closet, and a long wooden chest at the foot of the bed. Rick finally concentrated on the occupant he had felt beside him on the bed, and paused in shock at who he saw. From the dim lighting, he could recognize the the soft naked curves of a woman. It has been a long half decade since he had slept with one, but he could still recognize the shape of a woman without clothes on. The figure sleeping beside him had long silky brown locks covering the pillow beneath her head like a halo. The pale face he was staring at in shock, he hadn't seen in nearly six years, not since her death.
"Lori…" he muttered in surprise. His eyes scanned her figure slowly, noticing all the little nuances he had forgotten about. In the time since her death, he had been able to make room in his heart for another to love. However, the love he felt for Daryl was completely different to what he felt for Lori. He loved his wife, and he always would. But after her affair with Shane during his coma and the trouble it had caused them, he hadn't been able to handle being near her. His love for the mother of his children and best friend, was always going to have a piece of his heart. However, his heart was big enough to love others.
"What the fuck is going on?" Rick asked aloud in a harsh whisper as he tried to figure out why he was staring at his dead wife. Or rather, the person who had once been his dead wife. He shouldn't be seeing her alive and well. He shouldn't be breathing right now either. Being in a room he hasn't seen in eight years, he didn't know how all this was possible. He had died, he knew this without a doubt. What he had experienced, that had not been a hallucination, and he was very familiar with hallucinations by now. With what he had gone through, that had been no dream or hallucination, it had been real as he was now.
So why am I waking up beside my wife? He deliberated as he looked around the room. He could only assume that he was in his old house, before the apocalypse business happened, if he was in bed beside Lori. It had been a long time since he had laid in a bed beside her. As much as he missed Lori, he missed Daryl too. His heart and chest ached at the thought of his hunter. He could only hope that he would get to see his partner again soon. At thought of his spouse, his thoughts were bouncing back and forth at the realization that he was back in the beginning.
Did anyone else know what was going to happen? Or was it just him? The ruminations ran through his mind in a whirlwind. What was even the date? At that musing, Rick slipped out of the bed. It was an odd sensation, feeling such warm and soft bedding against his skin. It had been a rare occurrence to find something like that before he died.
Rick looked to the nightstand beside the bed and grabbed the rectangular shaped cell phone on the nightstand. He stared at the IPhone, it's been a long time since he'd held a phone. He clicked the circular button on the bottom of the cell phone, and squinted against the bright light. Blinking rapidly, he waited for the spots dancing across his eyesight to dissipate, before he stared at the date in shock: Friday, March 5th.
That was nearly three months before the outbreak began to grow global, he realized. Rick's mind ran with the possibilities. With that much time, perhaps he could become better prepared for the outbreak. With this preparation time, he'd be able to accumulate quite a bit of supplies and perhaps even build a safe location for everyone to live. How long would it really be safe for? He wondered to himself. Was there really such a thing as safe in the apocalypse with the Walking Dead? From his experience the sense of safety never lasted long. Something or someone always threatened that safety, because they wanted it or because the Walkers became herds.
So how am I going to be able to save them and keep them safe? Rick wondered again as he sat carefully on the side of the bed. It's not like it was just those he considered family he had to worry about saving, it was also his family's relatives he had to worry about. From what he remembered, his family had siblings, parents, nieces and nephews, in-laws, and cousins that they had lost during the apocalypse. Would he be able to save them too somehow? He had no idea how, unless those individuals knew what was going to happen.
Maybe I can save others too, people that have jobs that we could benefit from after the apocalypse, Rick thought over the various people that could have uses. There was electricians, if he got a hold of solar panels. There was hunters, doctors and nurses, engineers, construction workers, plumbers, scientists, teachers, dentists, and soldiers, among numerous others. He'd save those he could, even if they didn't have usefulness. It was just who he was. He didn't trust people, as they were the worst sorts after the world essentially ended, but he knew there was still some good people.
Rick rubbed his temples in irritation. He would have to find something to write in to come up with a plan for what he should do. As well as writing down the names of everyone he could recall over the last eight years he had endured the apocalypse. He would go from hoped there was others that remembered, otherwise it would be a hell of a lot harder to make anyone believe him.
He shivered suddenly as a cold brush of air grazed his naked skin. Rick nearly startled as the loud sound of the air conditioner turning on dragged him from his thoughts. He wasn't used to the sounds of electricity anymore, having been away from it for so long. He had been so consumed with his contemplating, that he had forgotten he was buck ass naked and not alone. He had to stop being so careless. While it was safe now, it wouldn't always be so.
Bright blue eyes turned back to look at Lori and her currently flat stomach. "Hmm," he hummed in thought as he assessed the cogitations running through his mind. "Judith should be born near the end of the year," Rick muttered as he continued to look down at Lori. "Unless she was born early," he added to himself. Did Lori become pregnant now? They had just spent a night together, and not just once either, if his recollection of that time was to go on. It would fit the timeline. From what he could recall, it was around the third month into the first year of the apocalypse that Lori had discovered she was pregnant, and she had given birth a good six, nearly seven months later. Which would relate to their time having sex the previous night. Though he had honestly forgotten they had in his original timeline.
Considering the next day, later today actually, Rick suddenly realized, as it was a day one didn't forget, he had been shot. Then he had been put in a medically induced coma, before slipping into an actual coma for a few months. He remembered discussing this with Lori during the first few nights after finding them again. It's odd knowing that he had been in a coma for about months during the beginning of the apocalypse, and for two weeks following the outbreak.
Rick wondered if Lori had been one of those woman who just hadn't realized she was pregnant? With the stress of him being shot, falling into a coma, and then the apocalypse happening, could she have just not realized? Rick gave an irritated groan as his head throbbed. This was getting him nowhere, and he definitely didn't want to consider that maybe Shane and Lori had been sleeping together behind his back before the apocalypse. Especially considering he and Shane's past together. An affair was not something he wanted to add to his growing list of things to worry about.
Silently, Rick stood from the bed and picked up a carelessly tossed pair of boxer briefs from the floor. He quietly pulled them on, followed by a pair of sweatpants and t-shirt, before making his way carefully out of the bedroom. "Dad," the voice of Carl startled Rick as he was gently shutting the bedroom door. Turning around, the Sheriff deputy looked at his son with surprise.
"Carl," he murmured with awe. Blue eyes scanned over his son with amazement. It had been a good two years since he had last seen his son. The figure he was looking at was not the eighteen-year-old he remembered, but the twelve-year-old he had been at the beginning of the apocalypse. It was disheartening and thrilling in equal measures, to see his son, but to see the differences and toll the apocalypse had done to his child, was staggering. Rick reached out and pulled him into a hug. Feeling the warmth and heartbeat of his son, his boy that he had lost to a bite. "God Carl," Rick shed tears as he gripped his son tight. His forehead rested upon his son's head, as Carl's face rested against his father's chest.
Carl cried tears of grief, sadness, relief, and so many other conflicting emotions at seeing his father again. The last thing he remembered, was putting a bullet in his head after saying goodbye to his father, Daryl, and Michonne. He had gotten to say his goodbyes to everyone else before hand, but the three most important to him, he got his goodbyes longer. Seeing his father again, after what should have been the last time, was amazing.
"It wasn't a nightmare was is it," Carl muttered rhetorically into his father's shirt. "What we experienced...it really happened," he said with teary blue eyes as he pulled away from his father. Curled fist loosened from Rick's shirt, while his dad's hands gripped Carl's shoulder firmly.
A sinking feeling settled in the pit of Rick's stomach at his sons words. If there was one thing he wished, it was that Carl didn't have to remember what they went through. At the same time, he was glad his son remembered. He'd have an easier time surviving the outbreak when it happened. With Carl's death, Rick had realize that he hadn't been there for him as much as he should of, and that thought burned at him. To realize he had caused such a distance between them. It was going to change, if this was his second time around, he was going to be there for his son. "Come of Carl, let's head downstairs so we don't wake your mom up," Rick muttered with a firm but gentle arm curled around his sons shoulders and tucking him into his side.
Quietly, the father and son duo walked slowly down the wooden and creaky staircase in a companionable silence. They walked into the kitchen together and Rick flipped the light switch on. It still surprised him that it worked, but he could hear the hum of electricity in the air. It was amazing what years away from the ability to have electricity could do to one's sense. The sounds of all the appliances that ran of gas and electricity was so loud. "What are we going to do dad?" Carl asked his father.
Rick searched the cabinets for where the cups were. It had been too long since he'd been in this house and not knowing where anything was, was going to cause a problem. "I have some ideas Carl," Rick began slowly. Carl watched his father as he searched the cupboards. It had been a while since they had been here, he couldn't recall most of anything was either. "I'm thinkin' that if we both remember, then maybe your mom will too," he said and forcefully shut the cupboard door that appeared to contain plates and ceramic bowls. Rick reached the next cupboard and sighed in relief when he found the cups. Pulling out two, he set them of the counter and walked over to the fridge. A cool rush of air hit his face, distracting Rick for a moment at the realization that they still had electricity. Reaching inside, he grabbed the bottle of orange juice and set it of the counter beside the glasses.
"Dad...I'm so sorry, for the way I treated you," Carl whispered in a shaky tone voice. As if he could split apart at the seams at any given moment. His blue eyes burned and his eyesight blurred with tears again when he looked across the counter at his father. His mind went through all the ways he had treated him. He had blamed his father for everything, and that blame had turned to resentment, anger, and at times hate. He had blamed him for having to kill Shane (even though he could now see Shane had been a danger to everyone), for abandoning his mother (even though he now had a better understanding of why his father rarely went around her), for taking care of their family and concentrating on their survival more than him. Those were just the things he could think from the top of his head. He knew there was more reasons why he had been angry at his dad, but thinking back on them, he realizes now that his father had been an easy target to take his anger out on.
Tears slid slowly down Carl's cheeks again as a sob escaped from chapped lips. Small shoulders shook with his cries as he fully began to comprehend everything that had happened and was going to happen.
Rick quickly made the few steps it took to reach his son and pulled him into a tight hug again. Carl's hands raised to grip the back of his fathers shirt, trying to keep it together, even as he fell apart. It had been a long time since he'd allowed himself to cry, and in the comfort of his father's arms once again, he did just that. Rick didn't try to console him with false platitudes, as those were pointless. But he did hold his son, his strong presence reminding Carl that no matter what, his father would be there for him and forgive him.
Thump. Thump. Thud.
Carl and Rick's attention turned to the ceiling, where the noise gave from. The sound of footsteps and a bedroom door closing made them realize that Lori must have awoken. "Rick? Carl?" Lori called out with a note of alarm. Her footsteps began to make their way down the staircase in a study rythmic thumping sound. Rick's eyes turned to the glowing green lights of the kitchen oven: 5:27.
"In the kitchen!" Rick called back as Lori's footsteps sounded closer until she appeared in the kitchen doorway. Her beautiful brown eyes looked between the pair, tears could be clearly seen when she laid eyes upon the pair.
"Was it a nightmare?" Lori asked Rick with her full attention on him.
The question gave him pause. That answers my question, Rick mused to himself. "Was what a nightmare?" Rick asked cautiously. Carl appeared too shocked to rely to his mother, as he stared at her, taking in her being alive. The last time he had seen his mom, he had to put a bullet in her skull, after she bled out from Judith's birth, before she had the chance to change into a Walker.
"The Walkers," Lori replied, with eyes blurring from tears. "The coma you were in after getting shot and my...affair...that I had with Shane when I thought you were dead," she continued with an awkward expression on her face. The thought of her affair with Shane made her feel regret, disgust, and anger at herself for being so weak. She had thought her husband dead, and while that didn't excuse her for seeking comfort in her husband's best friend, it was truth. She would never cheat on Rick, she loved him, but it had happened in her moment of weakness. "Our attempt to find a save place, my dying for our daughter," Lori choked out, tears finally escaped and rapidly slid down pale cheeks at the thought. She had never gotten to know her baby girl, and the thought killed her.
Rick could never stand the thought of seeing Lori cry. Reaching out with one arm, Lori quickly walked into his. Together, the small family held each other. Lori lovingly running her right hand through her sons hair, while the other gripped the back of Rick's shoulder blades shirt. "Mom," Carl whispered as he held tightly onto his mother. His hands were curled into tight fist as he held onto her nightshirt. Lori's head rested of Rick's shoulder as the family gathered their bearings.
Ding Dong. Ding Dong. Ding Dong.
The Grimes family startled at the noise of the doorbell ringing. Slowly, Rick, Lori, and Carl pulled away from each other and looked towards the kitchen doorway that led to the dining room, living room, and front door. They small trio shared a look, before Ring slowly began to make his way out of the kitchen.
Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.
Rick paused at the house phone ringing. It was hanging up of the wall beside the kitchen door. Without hesitation, he picked the phone up from its cradle and answered the phone. He held it up to his ear as he walked down the hallway to the front door. "Grimes Residence, Rick speaking," Rick stated, an old habit that he had done before the outbreak and was something he didn't think would ever break.
"Rick," A familiar voice stated into the phone.
Rick nearly dropped it at the voice that spoke. "Hershel," he replied in surprise. The Sheriff's deputy had never considered that Hershel would remember, but perhaps he should have. He had at least hoped that the other man would be able to recall what had happened. It would definitely make things easier.
"It's good to hear your voice Rick," Hershel replied in a warm and fatherly tone. Hershel had always been a fatherly figure to Rick. He had been a man that many could look up to, for his calm and caring nature.
"It's good to hear from you. I was actually going to attempt to reach out to your later this morning," Rick stated. He could still recall watching Hershel died by the hands of the Governor. The horror and anger that had gripped him at the sight. It was somethin' that still gave him nightmares. Rick unlocked the front door before gripping the doorknob and turning it slowly. The front door swung open, and showing the one person he had honestly not expected to see. He paused at who stood on the other side.
"I'm glad I was able to beat you to it then," Hershel was saying into the phone. Rick barely heard, too surprised and distracted at the figure standing on his porch. "We need to talk Rick, start making some plans."
"Rick," Shane stated in just as much surprise and shock at the sight of him. His large frame was hunched, his hands stuffed into his sweatpants pockets. It was his dark eyes however, that caught Rick's attention. He had always been able to read his best friend, and what his eyes are displaying were conflicting emotions; happiness, relief, sadness, nervousness, and so much more as his dark eyes fell upon Rick's physique.
"Shane," Rick muttered back in surprise.
"Shane's there Rick?" Hershel questioned in curiosity.
Rick held up a hand to Shane, and then gestured for him to enter the house. He watched his best friend, former best friend's?, broader frame step past the front doorway and into the house. "Take a seat Shane," he said as he gestured to the armchair. Lori and Carl were sitting on the sofa, cuddled up together and it brought a smile to curl his lips. However, the pair seemed startled to see Shane in their home. "Yeah, he's here Hershel, and I have a feelin' that there's a conversation that is needin' to happen," he sighed with a glance at his wife, son, and Shane.
"I'm hopin' we'll be able to get together later today over at yours," Rick suggested. "I already have some plans in mind for what we could do," Rick added as he stood between the sofa and armchair. "I'm likely goin' to have some visitors with me," he added as he adjusted his hold of to the phone.
There was an awkward since between Lori, Carl, and Shane. The two adults appeared not wanting to look at each other, and Carl couldn't seem to look at Shane, especially since he had helped his father against Shane in the other timeline.
"That sounds fine with me Rick," Hershel agreed. "It seems the only ones that remember are myself, Shawn, and Beth," the older man added with a sigh. "It'll be interestin' to see those plans of yours."
"Alright then, we should be headin' out in a couple of hours," Rick said, his blue eyes looked between the trio sitting in the living room. "First we need to deal with stuff here, but we should be there 'round 10 or so," The Sheriff Deputy remarked, as hs mind went over everything that he needed to start doing first, before heading over to the Greene Farm.
"I'll see you then Rick," Hershel replied before hanging up.
Rick pulled the phone from his ear and turned it off. With a sigh, he took a seat at the other arm chair and looked between Lori, Carl, and Shane. "This feels like a conversation over coffee," Rick muttered as he rubbed his eyes tiredly.
"I've got it," Lori suddenly stated as she stood from the couch and walked back into the kitchen.
Another silence fell over the three, each unsure of what to say. Shane opened his mouth and spoke, "Rick, I'm so sorry man." There was an expression of deep regret and sadness when he stared at his best friend. Rick was the man that he had loved for years, since the summer of their sophomore year. They had fooled around and experimented, like most teenagers did. But he had stepped away in Freshman year of college, when Jeffrey had introduced Lori to Rick. He had seen then, that Rick was love at first sight with the beautiful brunette. He hadn't wanted to ruin it for his best friend, so he had stepped away. It was something that Shane regretted.
"I don't know if you remember," Shane began to say. As soon as those words left his lips, Rick, Carl, and Lori, who had appeared again with cups of coffee for the adults and orange juice for Carl, knew what he was talking about.
"We all remember Shane," Rick replied evenly. His brilliant blue eyes stared steadily across at his best friend. He wasn't yet willing to trust the other man, especially with everything that had happened between them.
"Good, good," Shane nodded as he roughly ran a hand through his hair. "Nothin' ever happened between Lori and I before then," the black haired man stated firmly. "We should have never done what we did, even after we believed you were gone," he added with a frown. "And I'm sorry for goin' crazy like I did. I was a mad dog that needed puttin' down, before I caused even more damage than I already was doin'," Shane looked across at Rick and could only hope that the man believed him. What he was saying was true. He never would have done what he did, but he had lost himself once society went to hell. With his recollection of this alternate timeline, he knew himself well enough to know that his power over the groups had gone to his head. He wouldn't lead again this time. Rick was always the steady and level headed one, he should be in charge.
Rick ruminates over everything that Shane had said. There was a sense of relief over what he had said. Glancing at Lori showed that she was also in agreement to what Shane had said, that they had never done anything before then. It was reassuring to say the least. He wanted his best friend back, just like he wanted Daryl back at his side. If Shane wanted his forgiveness, Rick was willing to give it to him. It was a different time, what had happened last time was not going to happen this time. Rick would do whatever he had to, to make sure it didn't occur.
"There's nothin' to forgive Shane," Rick replied with a small smile. "I'm just happy to have you at my side this time," he added with a nod. He hoped he wouldn't regret this. "With tha' said, I have some plans in mind to make a safe place for everyone, but we're goin' to need funding," The Sheriff Deputy remarked with a sigh. "I'm thinkin' we sell whatever we can, the house, any extra vehicles," he mused aloud.
Lori nodded her head in agreement, selling the house was fine with her. It was no longer a home for any of them, just a place with walls and a roof. "I can look into getting money from my parents," she suggested. Her parents came from old money, and were always willing to give her money if she just asked.
"I have money saved up, from when mama and pops passed away," Shane said with sigh. "I can go to the bank and look into getting that money out," he added. Just thinking about his parents, even after nearly five years of them being dead and gone, still brought him pain. Rick shared a sad small smile with Shane. Mr. and Mrs. Walsh had been like second parents to Rick.
"Maybe we should get in contact with Aunt Evie and Uncle Jeff," Carl suggested with a small smile. It's been a long time since he had been able to see them. "Maybe I can get in contact with Aunt Alyssa, Uncle Justin, and Aunt Clarissa," he proposed hopefully. He hoped he could save his extended family this time.
"Those are good ideas," Rick agreed with a nod of his head. While he and Hershel have yet to speak about Rick's plans, he didn't want to waste any time. The faster they got things started, the quicker they could get their plans moving. "Lori you call your parents, Shane go to the bank, and Carl call your Aunt and Uncles, and I'll get in contact with a realtor," he ordered and stood from the couch. The coffees remained untouched as the group of four split up, each heading in different directions to get things started.