A/N While we don't need therapy after last night's episode (thank God!), I do need a bit of a cuddle after sitting thru the Rickless show. I thought you might feel the same so I'm posting early again. I think I will stick to Mondays from now on. Enjoy…

Chapter Nine

Sitting low in the sky over the western tree line, the sun bathes the clouds in a red-orange glow that matches the flames dancing within the circle of the fire pit. Erin swats at a mosquito as she crosses the camp toward Kelly and Jacqui, who have already begun preparations for dinner. "Alright, what can I do?"

"Nothing at all since you helped catch our dinner," Jacqui responds, placing a tray of freshly cleaned bass and crappie fish on a tree stump next to the low burning fire.

"Yeah, that was hard work," Erin replies sarcastically. "And Rick and Daryl took care of cleaning the fish so I really can't take much credit for this meal. So, what do you want me to do?" she offers again rubbing her palms together in the universal sign of getting down to business.

"Just sit and relax, Erin. There's really not much to do," Kelly says as she sprinkles a conservative amount of Cajun seasoning over each fillet.

"Fine. Just let me know if you need anything." Erin settles onto one end of the bench seat that used to take up residence inside the Peletier's van. She stretches her long legs out toward the heat of the fire, enjoying a few moments to just sit and be. And just like that, with her hands empty and her mind at ease – the words that Jim had said to her earlier come rushing in, demanding an audience.

Their conversation had been tumbling around in her mind all afternoon, looking to dig its heels in and force her to consider his words. She'd pushed the topic back into the shadows while folding laundry and helping Carl and Sophia with their math problems, but with nothing to keep her tired mind occupied now, she can't stop his words from taking center stage in her brain. 'Your Rick'. Well the sheriff certainly feels like Her Rick, but then that would make her His Erin. Though she may feel that way, she's not sure he feels it himself.

Glancing up the hill toward the caravan of vehicles, she sees Rick talking to Glenn and Jim at the bumper of the Winnebago. She can't help but wonder if the quiet man is giving him something to think about as well.

As if he senses her eyes and thoughts upon him, Rick turns his head and meets her gaze. She knows that he is still listening to whatever Glenn is saying at the moment, but she also knows that a small part of him is hearing her as well. The tilt of his chin calls to her as their eyes connect and hold.

The corner of his mouth lifts slightly at some humor in Glenn's words but his eyes never leave her face. She gives him a small smile and though she doesn't exactly see him nod his head in return, she feels the gesture nonetheless.

"Hey, Aunt Kelly, when's dinner gonna be ready?"

His son's voice pulls her away from Rick's steady gaze as Carl and Sophia make themselves comfortable around the fire; Carl taking the space next to her on the car seat and Sophia on a metal folding chair across the fire.

"Won't be done for a little while, buddy. Just enough time to do a couple of math problems," Kelly teases her nephew.

"Oh, come on," he grumbles. "I already did a bunch today," he remarks and Erin has to hold back a grin when his thin shoulders sag in defeated frustration.

"I know, honey. I'm just kidding," Kelly confesses. "But dinner won't be ready for about a half hour."

Erin's eyes hold Rick's again as he walks down the slope to join the growing dinner crowd. He gives her a quick wink before planting his feet directly in front of Carl. With fisted hands on his hips and a scowl on his face, he is an imposing figure of authority. "You're not giving your aunt a hard time are you?" he questions his son in a pseudo stern voice that makes Erin's impish little flutter giggle in her belly.

"No, Dad. She was the one teasing me!" Carl answers defensively, straightening his back as he tries to sit taller in the seat.

"I know, bud." Rick grins at his son as he relaxes his arms. "Now I'm the one teasing you."

"Ugh!" Carl deflates into the back of the seat cushion with a look of complete exasperation.

"Didn't you know, Carl…" Erin says to the boy as she turns her body toward him. "That's their job." She leans over and sticks a finger beneath his ribs eliciting a sharp peel of laughter as he squirms against her hand.

Looking up at Carl's father a moment later, Erin returns the affectionate smile that he is shining down on her. Standing in black jeans and another white tee shirt, Rick's blue eyes gleam with delight, along with a good amount of fatigue.

"You look beat," she tells him honestly.

"I am," he nods on a leaden sigh, eyeing the bench seat with longing.

Tapping Carl on the knee, Erin tilts her chin toward the boy but maintains eye contact with his father. "Hey, honey, why don't you go sit by Sophia so your Dad can sit here."

Standing without argument, Carl vacates his seat and moves along the circle of assorted chairs to rest upon a tree stump next to the young girl. Erin gives her a sympathetic smile, knowing that Sophia will be called over to eat at her parent's own fire at any moment.

"Thanks buddy." Rick says as he moves to take the empty seat.

"Come here." Erin scoots a little to her right, resting at the very edge of the seat to give Rick more room on the other end. She drapes her left arm over the back of the seat as he collapses onto the cushion next to her. Lying on his side, he rests his head on her lap with his right leg bent and his left leg stretched out, his foot resting on a folding chair.

When his left hand tucks itself between her kneecaps, she certainly feels like His Erin. She threads her fingers through his dark hair, gently massaging his skull. She skates her fingertips across his scalp, over the whorl of his crown and down to his nape, repeating the circuit as he breathes a heavy sigh of contentment.

"God, that feels good," he mumbles and she feels his entire body relaxing at her touch. Yes it does, she thinks as his thumb makes a gentle arch on her knee.

Erin catches Jim's eye across the campground and he gives her a small nod. She dips her chin in return then looks back at the man on her lap, thinking wine and chocolate won't do in her situation. Enjoying the pressure of his hand on her knee, she thinks that maybe Rick just needs someone that he can hold onto.

When Rick opens his eyes nearly two hours later, the fire is burning very low and all the chairs surrounding it are empty save one; Dale is sitting in a green camp chair talking to Erin about the value of time, or forgetting time, or defeating it or something like that. His sleepy mind hasn't caught up to his eyes just yet so it's all a bit of a muddled mess.

Lifting his head from Erin's lap, he realizes that full night is upon them as he gazes about the camp. He sees mostly darkened tents with the exception of a soft lantern glow from within the Dixon brother's shelter.

"Hey sleepyhead," Erin says softly above him as he feels the caress of her hand against his shoulder.

"Shit, I guess I missed dinner." He twists his head from side to side to relieve the stiffness in his neck as he swings his legs around to sit up. She stretches her leg out and he hears a soft groan drift from her chest as the blood returns to her lower extremity. "Why didn't you wake me?" he asks, feeling bad for causing her any discomfort.

"You need your sleep. Your body is still healing and you need to get all your strength back if you're going to lead this group," she answers, stretching her leg out with a soft groan. "And we saved you some dinner."

"Who says I'm going to lead the group?" he asks, looking back at her with a curious expression as he sits forward on the bench, wringing his hands between his knees.

"We need you, Rick," Dale interjects and the deputy glances up to see the older man place a pot of leftovers onto the fire. "Nobody wants to listen to an old geezer like me, especially your hotheaded partner," he says quietly and Rick follows his quick glance toward the RV where Shane is settled into a chair on the roof, keeping watch. "These people need a man they can trust to do the right thing. They'll listen to you. Even Shane will, I think. For the most part."

"Well, I'm not looking to take over or anything," Rick replies. "But I'll do whatever needs to be done to keep my family safe. Anything," he adds, turning to look at Erin pointedly. "You guys are all that matter."

"And we'll follow your lead as you do it. I'm confident that's enough to keep us all safe," Dale says as he rises to his feet. "And with that… I'm off to stop spending my breath on trying to conquer time," he says, smiling wryly at Erin. "Goodnight folks."

After bidding Dale goodnight, Rick sits back and stretches his right arm across the back of the seat behind Erin. "Alright, your turn," he says, patting his lap with his other hand.

"Ooh, so tempting," she replies as he watches her look from his thighs to his face. She settles for snuggling against him with her head on his shoulder and a fist curled on his chest. Warm and solid at his side she breathes life into him. Again. Still. "But your dinner is going to be ready in a just a minute and you need to eat."

"To get my strength back?" he asks lightly, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and laying his cheek against her head. A perfect fit.

"Yes. I'm going to keep you healthy so you can keep us safe," she says just before yawning into his shirt.

"That sounds like a fair trade off. Now why don't you go to bed while I eat my dinner and talk to Shane for a bit. I'm wide awake so I might as well take watch."

"Okay," she says drowsily. "Then it'll be my turn to watch you change when you come in later."

Squeezing her shoulder, he pulls her tighter against him as he chuckles into her hair. "That sounds like a fair trade off too."

The sun is a bright ball of white light surrounded by soft pink and yellow clouds as it slowly rises above the rooftops of Atlanta's skyscrapers. The field above the quarry glistens with early morning dew as the long grass sways in a faint breeze, drifting against the knees of the man crouched within its sea.

After hiking up to the small clearing at the highest point of their surroundings, he keeps one eye on the woods as he wipes a bead of sweat from his brow, the scarred metal of the walkie talkie in his hand shining hotly under the gleam of the early morning sun.

"Morgan, I don't know if you can hear me but I found my family. They weren't at the cabin - I never even made it that far. But I found them. Do you believe that? I actually found them." Rick releases the button of the walkie and waits a few seconds for a response, hoping to hear the crackle of life on the other end. Hearing nothing but a soft hum through the speaker, he presses the button again and continues, "We're camped out at the edge of an old abandoned rock quarry off of West Marietta. I left you some signs. I hope you see them." He releases the button and squints into the pretty sunrise, listening for a few moments before beginning again. "We've got a good group of people here. For the most part anyway. I can't wait to introduce you to everyone." He immediately thinks of Erin and yearns to tell his friend how amazing she is. God help him, he feels like a pubescent teen with his first big crush. But she's more than that, so much more. She's everything. And that terrifies him. Realizing he's still got the button depressed while his heart and dick had taken over his train of thought, he releases it quickly and counts to ten, listening for Morgan's voice while his brain gets back on track. Then, taking a safer route, he presses the button and says, "I can't wait for Carl to meet Duane." He smiles and then realizes that that may not be safer as he thinks of what trouble the two boys could get themselves into. If they become anything like he and Shane were at that age, he'd better keep a real close eye on them. "Take care of yourself, Morgan. Be safe. I'll try you again tomorrow morning. This is Rick, signing off."

Erin had always loved the woods on a warm summer morning with the sounds of nature scurrying on little legs and the sweet whistle of birds as they welcome the new day. Though this morning broke extremely hot and humid, bringing with it the promise of afternoon thunderstorms, the canopy of grand trees stand tall and noble above the quarry's edge, protective of the two children walking ahead of her and Jacqui on the deer trail next to the camp. Even with the chattering sounds of Carl and Sophia breaking the quiet serenity of the forest, Erin is still enjoying the peaceful presence of Mother Nature herself. Until Jacqui's words interrupt the tranquility.

"So, you got something going on with Kelly's brother, huh? He's awfully cute," Jacqui says at her side. "Come on, Erin. You have to admit there's something going on between you," she adds when Erin doesn't respond right away.

"Okay, there is definitely something there. I'm just not sure exactly how deep it goes yet," Erin answers softly, wary of how Carl might feel about the subject as she watches him skip over branches and rocks with Sophia, searching for mushrooms and berries on the trail up ahead.

"Well, from the way you look at each other – it's very deep. I mean, you two actually remind me of my grandparents."

"The heck?! He's barely thirty-four and I'm only twenty six!"

"No. I mean, the way he looks at you. My grandfather looks at my nana that way," Jacqui clarifies. "They've been married for over sixty years and they still look at each other deeply. We all know that when one passes away, the other will follow within weeks, if not days. Thank God they are both healthy and too stubborn to die first." She pauses and Erin knows that her friend is praying that their stubbornness is keeping them alive in these crazy times. "And they've always known what the other was going to say before they said it," she finishes with a hard swallow and a watery shimmer in her eyes.

Erin remembers the wordless conversation she and Rick had shared about Ed Peletier the other night – okay, that was pretty deep. And there's no denying that the dream they shared was immeasurable.

She absently stoops to pick up a rusty screwdriver that catches her eye beneath a branch, the metal shank glinting against an errant ray of sunlight. "So you're saying we are going to die within days of each other? Great," Erin says lightly, drawing out the word sarcastically as she refuses to contemplate the magnitude of their relationship.

"Not any time soon, no," the black woman gives her a frustrated smirk. "I'm just saying that what you have… it is deep. And that's a good thing, sweetie."

Erin smiles at the sincerity and kindness in her friend's dark eyes, but doesn't take too much comfort from her statement. "It's also scary as hell," she admits with her own smirk as she sticks the dirty screwdriver into her back pocket. "I don't know, Jacqui. Most of the time it feels like we're best friends and that he's happy with that. But I know that look that you're talking about and then I think he does want more than friendship, but he never crosses that line."

"He's a gentleman. And he's only been here two days, Erin."

"My God." Erin stops short among the tall trees and thick undergrowth of the forest. "Two days," she repeats softly, dumbfounded. "It feels like I've known him for years," she says, wondering how forty-eight hours could have stretched into what felt like a lifetime.

"Maybe he thinks you're the one that just wants to be friends. He could be waiting for you to make a move on him," Jacqui proposes when Erin catches up to her again.

"Well, then we're stuck at being BFF's because I don't know the first thing about making moves," she finishes with derogatory air quotes.

"You don't have to attack him, just let him know that you're willing to be attacked," the dark woman smiles suggestively.

"And if he's not interested?"

"Trust me – he's interested."

If only she could believe that. Erin increases her pace to catch up to the kids. "Hey, slow down guys."

The two adults close the distance when Sophia stops at a huge boulder in front of a very large white oak tree.

"Here's some mushrooms, Erin. Are they the good kind?" Sophia points toward a cluster of the funguses growing in the shade of the rock.

Erin crouches next to Jacqui to inspect the find while the two kids get distracted by a green anole lizard climbing up the base of the oak tree. Agreeing that they are indeed edible, Erin reaches to collect the mushrooms and whips her head up at the sound of a snarl coming from behind the huge boulder. Before she can react, a scream splits the air as a decomposing man in jeans and a bloody mess of a brown flannel shirt steps out from behind the tree and grabs at Sophia's delicate shoulder, growling through his fetid lips as his greasy black hair falls disheveled into his eyes.

With her heart in her throat Erin sees Carl grab the girl and then quickly turn to flee himself. When he trips over a root and lands hard on the ground at the monster's feet, Erin's heart chokes the breath from her lungs as her feet carry her forward. He reaches for her hand and for a moment Erin feels the warm flesh of his fingers against hers, along with the illusion of rescue until he is yanked out of her grasp.

When she sees the walker holding onto Carl's ankle, she doesn't hear his terrifying scream for the blood pounding in her ears. With the visceral instinct of a mama bear protecting her young, she grabs the closest weapon which turns out to be a good sized branch. Lifting it from the forest floor, she wields it like a baseball bat and swings for the biggest homerun she'd ever attempted, roaring at the beast in a mindless rage. When she connects with the skull of the putrefying male, she feels the stinging reverberation crawl up the length of her arms as a sickening tingle creeps up her spine.

The impact knocks it off its feet, causing it to release Carl's leg and giving the boy a chance to crawl into Jacqui's outstretched arms to safety.

When the thing reaches for her family again, Erin brings the club down on its head once more, and again when it still continues to move. Horrified at the realization that she is going to run out of strength with her ineffectual battering before putting it out of their misery, she remembers the rusty screwdriver in her pocket. Throwing the branch in its face, she quickly pulls the tool from her pocket and leans forward, thrusting the tip of the blade into the cloudy eye of the beast and sinking it to the handle. She jumps back immediately as it falls to the floor of the forest, dead for the last time.

She stumbles backward and lands hard on her ass but continues to crabwalk behind her, putting more distance between herself and the monster, and the unsettling knowledge that she'd killed it. She scurries and scrambles until her shoulders hit a solid form, releasing a scream from her pounding chest when a strong arm wraps around her neck.

Frantically, she tries to pull away until her terrorized mind registers Rick's face as he peers over her shoulder, crouched next to her and calming her drastically. Twisting in his arms, she flings herself against him, knocking him off- kilter.

With his legs stretched out in the dirt, he gathers her in his lap, holding her fiercely while rocking her gently. She buries her face in his neck, trembling from head to toe while he tries to assuage her fears. Through the ringing of her ears, she faintly hears his calm, smooth voice as he speaks soothing words against her hair, but the pounding of his heart against her chest tells her that he is also very shaken.

"Shhh. I've got you. Breathe, honey. Relax now, it's over." He brushes the hair off her face and lays his hand against the clamminess of her neck. "Shit, talk to me, Erin. Tell me you're okay. Take deep breaths, sweetheart, or you're going to pass out. Don't go into shock on me now," he says earnestly.

She hears his voice but can't focus enough to string words together to answer him. The only words she can conjure are I killed him I killed him I killed him.

Then a stern voice breaks into her guilty mantra. "Talk to me, Erin. Focus on me, baby. You tell me now. What's my name?" he asks in a tough cop voice.

Responding to the authority in his tone, she tries to focus on the man whose black tee shirt she is clutching like a lifeline as she continues to shake uncontrollably. Taking a shallow breath, she stammers, "R-rick."

"And what's my son's name?" he asks just as sternly.

"C-c-caaarl," she wails, sobbing against his neck.

"That's right, honey. And he's fine," he tells her more gently. "He's right over there with Sophia and Jacqui. They're all fine. Take deep breaths now."

"Oh God, oh God, oh God," she cries until he presses her even tighter against his body. But it's still not tight enough. She can't get close enough to him to block out the horrific images replaying over and over against her closed eyelids.

"Listen to me, honey, just listen to my voice. Breathe, baby. Focus on my voice."

His voice caresses her ears as she focuses her mind on the soft soothing timbre of his gentle words.

"I've got you. It's just you and me now. Focus on me. What color are my eyes?"

She imagines his pretty eyes looking down at her. "B-blue. Bright, bright blue."

"Now remember the lake. Our lake. What color were the ducks? The baby ducks. Concentrate. I want you to smell the water in front of us as they float by. Can you see them?"

She takes a deep, calming breath and releases it heavily, the fresh smell of the lake in her nostrils. "Yes."

"What color are they?"

Eyes squeezed tight, she sees the little family of ducks gliding across the reflection of a big willow tree. "They're brown and black." She takes another deep breath. "You missed the last one," she reminds him with a hiccup, feeling a little more like herself as the ringing diminishes to a low hum in her ears and her heart begins to slow significantly.

"That's right, sweetheart. I missed him." He expels a long, unsteady breath against her hair and the realization that she is making him suffer penetrates her heart and sobers her quickly. A gentle finger lifts her chin and she looks into the most beautiful eyes she'd ever seen; compassion swimming strongly in a current of profound tenderness with a touch of worry in their light blue depths.

"Better?" he asks, stroking her jaw gently.

"A little."

"Was this the first walker you've ever seen?"

She shakes her head numbly, still wretched but coherent.

"So you've seen them before?"

"Once, when I went on a run with Glenn for medical supplies." She takes another deep breath before continuing. "There were a few down the street."

"So you've never killed one before," he states more than asks as he rubs his thumb across her cheekbone, wiping away her tears.

She shakes her head slowly, miserably. "I h-have to go."

"It's okay, honey. I've got you, just hold onto me."

"No, Rick. I'm g-gonna be s-sick."

She pushes against his chest, squirming from his lap to kneel in the dirt just in time to lose her breakfast. Kneeling next to her, he gathers her long hair and holds it in a thick ponytail at the back of her neck until she's expelling nothing but dry heaves.

With her stomach completely empty, Erin sits back and wipes her mouth with the back of her wrist, feeling both emotionally and physically drained as Amy hands her a water bottle. She rinses her mouth, spitting out the sour taste and then swallows several long pulls, looking around at all her friends that had come to their aid without hesitation.

She watches Rick exchange a look with Shane who then announces that the area is clear. As relief washes over his features, she sees Rick send his son a reassuring smile as Kelly comforts the boy within a cluster of concerned adults.

Erin puts her hand in his and lets Rick help her to her feet, still feeling quite shaky as he gazes at her tenderly.

"Okay?" he asks, caressing her pale cheek. When she nods, he continues, "So now I guess I need to thank you for saving my son's life as well as my own."

With a pitiful grimace, she shoves his hand to the side, doubles over and pukes up the water that had just gone down.