"I sustain myself with the love of family."

-Maya Angelou


Chapter Eight – Gone Elvis


"Best not to dwell on it that Merle got left behind," Morales advised Rick, who shot him an incredulous look before turning back to the road. "Nobody's gonna be sad he didn't come back…except maybe Daryl."

"Daryl?" Rick questioned, and I turned my head, curious as to who would care enough about Merle Dixon to be actually saddened by his apparent demise.

"His brother." And that sated my curiosity, as well as made me feel guilty. I could have taken the key from Rick, instead of T-Dog. I could have let him loose, and he could have come back with us. If he had tried to hurt Rick or T-Dog or anybody, I would have stopped him, but he'd still be there for his brother.

It was then that we heard those sirens again coming up behind the van, signaling a stolen car was speeding behind us. Glenn pulled up beside us, whooping and hollering, clearly enjoying the fast sports car that he and Rick hotwired for the distraction that saved us, before he peeled away, hurtling down the road in front of us.

"At least somebody's having a good day." Morales half-smiled, and I nodded, but there was something tingling at the back of my mind. Something I'd forgotten, something that I needed to tell Rick but I just couldn't put my finger on what it was or what it could be.

I knew that niggling feeling was going to bug me until I worked out exactly what it was I had forgotten, but after a few minutes of inner reflection, I decided to give up for the time being, focusing on preparing myself to Morales' group's reaction to the two new comers; Rick and I. I wondered if they would be welcoming or hostile or what. People didn't typically trust new people nowadays, and I know the only reason we'd gained our small group's trust was because we'd both put them into the frying pan and took them out of it, and then saved them from the fire afterwards.

"Turn left here, it'll take you up a dirt road that leads to the quarry. We've set up camp at the top," Morales guided Rick, who followed his instructions, until he was forced to park behind a minivan. "Come meet everybody."

Morales and the others climbed out of the van, hurrying to go reunite with their loved ones and friends, while Rick and I gathered ourselves in the van. I plonked myself down in Morales' vacated seat, looking over at Rick, who stared right back at me.

"We survived," I stated, smiling as we both nodded, and then I looked out the window and saw Morales lift up his daughter, and hug his son, and then I remembered. "Oh fuck."

"What? What's the matter?" Rick questioned, concern etched all over his face as I felt my face fall, completely annoyed at myself for forgetting that. Like how could I forget that? It was the best thing that had happened to me in two months, besides finding Rick in that hospital.

"I can't believe that I forgot that. Since we got in the van, and the adrenaline ran out, I've been bugged by this thing that I was struggling to remember, but I just remembered, and I can't believe that I forgot it. Like it's the greatest thing to happen for two days, besides you waking up and finding you, and I forgot it! Who does that?"

"We were under a lot of stress, whatever it is I'm sure that now you've remembered, it's going to be okay." Rick replied, trying to soothe my self-loathing.

"It is, because it really is the greatest thing, Rick. It's what we wanted."

"What are you talking about?" Rick asked, but before I could answer, Morales called out to us and cut me off.

"Hey, Helicopter Boy, Eagle Eye, come say hello!"

Rick looked at me and I nodded encouragingly, jumping out the van myself, and rushing round the front of it, eager to see if I was right.

"The guy's a cop, like you, and she's a soldier." I barely heard Morales say, as Rick came to stand by my side.

It was like everything had slowed down to a dramatic movie scene. I locked eyes with Shane, a giant grin spread across my face, and tears streaming down my cheeks, and saw Lori and Carl just beyond the group, both whom turned to look at us, their faces stunned.

I could hear Rick's breathing get shallow and rapid, and I knew mine was the same, because I felt like my heart was about to explode out of my chest. I had no family left, but Rick, Shane, Lori and Carl, and they were all here, and it felt like I was dreaming.

I let Rick walk forward first, half-crying, half-laughing as Carl bolted towards him, screaming his name, watching my best friend scoop his son up into his arms, hugging him as tightly as possible. Lori didn't move. She grinned, tears rolling down her face, but she didn't move towards him.

I moved though. I ran towards Shane, laughing almost hysterically as I launched myself into his arms, and he caught me, holding me up and squeezing me to his body, as I locked my legs around his waist so he wouldn't drop me. My other best friend in the whole world, the other third of our terrific trio, the third King County musketeer, who I'd thought was lost to me, who I'd given up hope for, I'd found again.

"We heard you on the CB," He whispered into my hair, my face buried in his neck, both of us seeming to be completely overwhelmed with emotion. I could feel my own body shaking against his, the joy of finding him again and the realization that I was actually hugging him being almost too much. "We thought we'd lost you."

"You didn't. I'm here. And God, so are you. It doesn't feel real!" I cried, tears staining his shirt, and we reluctantly let go of each other, Shane putting me back on my feet, though I grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight.

I turned around to see Rick, Carl and Lori in a tender embrace, though it looked almost awkward for both Rick and Lori, and it was soon over. Carl didn't seem to want to let go of his dad, until his eyes caught sight of me.

"Aunt T!" The boy seemed conflicted, wanting to stay close to his dead, holding him to make sure he wasn't going to disappear, and wanting to run to his godmother and hug her as tightly as he'd held his dad.

So I made his decision for him. I jogged over to him and picked him up, his hand still holding his dad's and hugged him close. I sniffled, smoothing his dark hair down with one hand, as he sobbed into my shoulder. Rick watched us, before I pulled him in too. I locked eyes with Lori, and grinned at her, wide and toothy and borderline maniacal, but she grinned back. I released my grip of Rick's shirt, though he was still held to me by my upper arm and Carl's hand, and reached out to her. She gripped my hand, both of us crying from happiness, and I knew that it was going to be okay now.

I stood in the middle of a strange camp, holding or being held by two of my favorite men (big and little) in the whole world, and not caring that the world was technically over. None of that even mattered anymore. Not when all I needed, my three best friends and my godson, was right here.

I'd found home again.


"Disoriented," Rick was describing how it felt to wake up out of his coma into this new, terrifying world to the group as we all huddle up around the low-burning camp fire. I sat close to Rick, bundled in my favorite jacket, Carl in his arms, and Lori sat next to Glenn and T-Dog on the log next to ours. That's how I knew that Rick and Lori's marriage was over. After believing he was dead for two months, and finding that he wasn't, a wife wouldn't have let her husband be two inches away, let alone across a campfire, but Rick didn't seem upset by it, and neither did Carl, so I kept my mouth shut and rolled with it. "I guess that comes close. Disorientated. Fear, confusion, all those things, but...disoriented comes closest."

"Words can be meagre things," The old guy, Dale, commented, and I nodded. "Sometimes they fall short."

"I felt like I'd been ripped out of my life and put somewhere else, until I stumbled into T. I thought I was trapped in some coma dream, couldn't believe that she was here instead of halfway round the world, thought I wouldn't wake up, ever." Rick said, and I nuzzled my head into his shoulder, my fingers sifting through Carl's hair to keep me occupied. I didn't want to think about how Rick had been when he had believed me to be a dream. It still upset me that he'd been in that hospital alive and alone for two months and I hadn't known, that I'd thought he was dead and gone when he'd been alive and breathing all along.

"Mom said you died." Carl announced, his voice quiet, but everyone heard him.

"She had every reason to believe that. Don't you ever doubt it." Rick told his son, while I looked over the fire at Shane, the person who had told me that Rick was dead.

After we had calmed down, after the adrenaline and excitement had ebbed away, I realized that Shane had told us that Rick was dead, and he hadn't been. Shane had gone to the hospital to get him, and came back without him, claiming that Rick had passed away. But he hadn't. Now, when he saw my stare, he looked slightly guilty, before his eyes flickered to Lori, who was pointedly not looking at him.

I knew that something had gone on between them after that look. And while I didn't like it, as Lori was Rick's wife or ex-wife or whatever, I understood. At least on Lori's part. The man whom she had loved for a good fourteen or fifteen years of her life had died. Even if their marriage was not what it used to be, even if they had separated, she had loved him. She was vulnerable and probably looking for some physical comfort from her emotional pain.

Shane…I just didn't understand. Wasn't there some sort of guy code against this sort of thing? Like don't hook up with your best friend's ex? Yet I knew it couldn't have been all Shane, if there really was something going on and I wasn't just making it up in my head to make myself feel better about my less than platonic feelings for Rick. Regardless of whether it had happened or not, I'm sensing that it wasn't happening now. Shane had told us, whether he knew it wasn't true or not, that Rick was dead. We'd cried and mourned him, and he wasn't actually gone at all. Now the dust had settled, I was pissed at him, so I can imagine that Lori's inner anger was double that.

Whatever the status of their relationship now, I wanted to be happy for them, but the fact that I didn't really know what was happening with Lori and Rick made it hard to get on board with Lori and Shane. Rick told Morgan that Lori was his ex-wife and she said that Rick was pretty much her ex-husband, but that wasn't official. They were just separated, not divorced. They could still mend their relationship and get back together.

Internally, I sighed deeply at my own confusion and the dread building in my stomach. I didn't want anyone to get hurt or for there to be any more drama than necessary.

The apocalypse was bad enough without love triangles, or love squares, or whatever, making it even more difficult.

"When things started to get really bad, they told us at the hospital, T and I, that they were gonna Medevac you and the other patients to Atlanta…and it never happened." Lori said, our eyes connecting across the fire.

"Well, I'm not surprised after Atlanta fell." Rick commented, the others nodding.

"The hospital fell first," I recalled, Rick looking down at me as I spoke, but I turned my eyes to the fire, staring into the chaos of the flames as I remembered the chaos that had been the early days of the outbreak. "The army tried to contain the infected on the lower levels, tried to help them, but it wasn't any use. So we tried evacuating the healthy, but the hospital was overrun with walkers, so we were forced to take the third step; extermination. We got as many as we could, cleared out the hospital, boarded up the main entrances and exits, but there were just too many still roaming around. A lot of us got bitten, and were put down, some went AWOL, but I managed to hide out in a tank a couple days until the majority of the walkers had passed through."

"Explains why it all looked like a ghost town when you found me."

"Yeah, looks don't deceive. I barely got them out…you know?" Shane divulged, and I saw Lori's hands clenched into fists, but I didn't comment on it. If Rick saw her change in attitude, he didn't say anything either, just brushed it aside and continued the conversation.

"I can't tell you how grateful I am to you, Shane. You and T. You both protected my family. I can't begin to express my gratitude." Rick replied, and there was a brief, almost tense silence, as the two men exchanged meaningful glances over the fire.

"There go those words falling short again. Paltry things." Dale commented, and I cracked a smile for him as he glanced over at Rick, Carl and I.

A fire crackled behind us, as a log was kicked onto it, stoking the fire so it burned hotter. I didn't think anything of it. It was a cold night because of the thunderstorm, and the stifling heat of the day. It would probably rain later that night. Yet Shane's eyes practically narrowed into slits, glaring at the small three person family behind me, and I didn't understand what they had done wrong, until I realized.

The small campfires they had dotted around camp couldn't attract too much attention if they were kept low. They get too high and it's suddenly Atlanta all over again. I shivered at the thought, and Rick wrapped his arm round me, pulling me closer into his body, sharing his body heat. I tried not to think at all about the meaning of that, but I did see that Lori noticed the small shift, but couldn't tell what was going on in her head.

"Hey, Ed, you want to rethink that log?" Shane made it sound like a suggestion, but it was a clear order from the leader of this group of survivors.

"It's cold, man." Ed replied, sounding like he didn't really care about what Shane thought or said.

I looked over Rick's shoulder to drink in the family of three. Ed was a big man, wider than Merle was, not taller, but looked just as arrogant. His wife was thin, almost too thin, and seemed to be in a constant state of nervousness, something that didn't sit right with me. She never looked at her husband directly, just out the corner of her eye, like she was scared. Their daughter was a pretty, little thing, but just as quiet and nervous as her mother, seeming to take her mother's lead and not making eye contact with her father at all. They didn't seem like a happy family, and I wondered if the two females would be happier sat with us. Probably.

"The cold don't change the rules, does it? Keep our fires low, just embers, so we can't be seen from a distance, right?" Shane pressed, and I could see he was getting irritated.

Lori reached out her hand and pressed on his arm, probably trying to calm him and stay in his seat. Shane had a bit of a hot temper, always had. He had a short fuse that was attached to dynamite. Half the time he could stop himself before he got out of control, but there were a few instances that Rick and I had to pull him off people before he could do some real damage. That had mostly been when we were kids though.

"I said, it's cold. You should mind your own damn business for once." Ed snapped at Shane, and I arched an eyebrow, pursing my lips as Shane pushed himself up onto his feet, Lori sighing deeply, and walked over to the other small campfire.

"Ed…sure you want to have this conversation, man?" Shane questioned, his tone saying that if Ed really pushed him, there wasn't going to be much of a conversation. I watched Ed size Shane up, deciding that he couldn't take Shane on, and gave up.

"Go on, pull that thing out," Ed ordered his wife, who eyed him out the corner of her eyes again, wondering if she should really move or not. "Go on!"

She jumped out her seat, like a skittish baby animal, and walked round the fire and pulled the burning log out, as we all watched. I was slightly disgusted at how a man like Ed treated his wife, like she was a servant rather than the woman he was lucky to be married to. Shane mumbled something under his breath before stomping out the fire, before he crouched down to be eye level with both Ed's wife and daughter.

"Hey, Carol, Sophia, how are y'all this evening?" He questioned, and I smiled. Shane had a thing for damsels in distress. He could never resist helping a female in need; child, teenager, young woman or old. Especially if she looked like she couldn't help herself. I remember one of my visits when I was on leave, and Shane came back to his apartment after a long shift, and broke down when they'd found a little girl dead after a disturbance call tipped them off to a domestic abuse situation.

"Fine. We're just fine," Carol replied, daring a glance at her husband before continuing. "I'm sorry about the fire."

"No, no, no, no apology needed," Shane insisted, smiling at the two females, but not at Ed. Ed seemed like an asshole, even more unlikeable than Merle had been. "Y'all have a good night, okay?"

"Okay." Carol nodded, as Shane rose to his feet and walked away.

"I appreciate the cooperation." He remarked, and I tried not to smirk, turning back to watch the fire and comb my fingers through Carl's hair.

Shane retook his seat, but closer to Lori, who seemed relieved that he had managed to remain calm and collected. If Rick noticed them almost gravitating towards each other, despite her anger towards him, he didn't say anything. So neither did I, even though I really wanted to understand what was happening. It definitely looked like Shane and Lori had found solace in each other in these dark times.

"Have you given any thought to Daryl Dixon?" Dale questioned, looking at those who had ventured into the city and returned without him. "He won't be happy to hear his brother was left behind."

"I'll tell him," T-Dog volunteered, and I thought he was brave, especially if Daryl was anything like his eccentric brother. "I dropped the key. It's on me."

"I cuffed him. That makes it mine." Rick stated.

"Guys, it's not a competition," Glenn stopped them from arguing, and I was grateful. If we had to listen to an 'it's my fault' 'no it's my fault' argument, I'd end up throat punching people. "I don't mean to bring race into this but it might sound better coming from a white guy."

"I did what I did. Hell, if I'm gonna hide from him." T-Dog said, looking forlorn and guilty.

"Merle Dixon put himself in those cuffs, not Rick, not you. You made a mistake dropping the key, but he wouldn't have been in that situation if he hadn't been a racist crack head," I explained, trying to stop the two grown men from having a pity party. "All our actions have consequences. Merle's just blew up in his face."

"Thea's right. Merle was out of control. Something had to be done or he'd have gotten us all killed," Andrea backed me up, and I smiled gratefully at her. "Rick did what was necessary. And if Merle got left behind, it is nobody's fault but Merle's."

"And that's what we tell Daryl?" Dale questioned, disbelief coloring his tone. "I don't see a rational discussion to be had from that, do you? A word to the wise, we're gonna have our hands full when he gets back from his hunt."

"I was scared and I ran. I'm not ashamed of it." T-Dog muttered.

"We were all scared. We all ran. What's your point?" Andrea asked.

"I stopped long enough to chain that door. Staircase is narrow. Maybe half a dozen geeks can squeeze against it at any one time. It's not enough to break through it- not that chain, not that padlock. My point, Dixon's alive and he's still up there, handcuffed on that roof. That's on us." T-Dog revealed, before climbing to his feet and walking away to his tent.

"Well, fu-fishsticks," I barely managed to stop myself cursing in front of Carl, who just shot me a knowing look, like he knew I was going to swear and what I was going to say. I straightened up, lifting my head off Rick's shoulder and stretched my arms above my head. "I suppose that rather unsettling revelation brings this night to a close. I'm going to bed, unless someone wants me to take watch."

"No, you need to sleep. We've got a big group now, we're as safe as we can be, and you don't need to keep yourself awake all night, listening out for the enemy. Not anymore," Rick insisted, his soft blue eyes holding mine, stubbornly not breaking our gaze before I did. "Go get some sleep."

"Sir, yes, sir," I mock saluted him, before pressing my lips to his cheek, and then Carl's. "Night, kiddo."

"Night, Aunt T. Love you."

"Love you too, buddy. Make sure to wake me up in the morning, okay?" When Carl nodded, I grinned, and climbed to my feet, heading toward my tent.

After my happy reunion with my chosen family, I'd been happily reunited with my Jeep, and all its contents. Lori hadn't used half the things I had packed for her, like my camping equipment or the pistol I had put in the glove box for her. All my weapons hidden in the trunk were still there too and the duffel bag of clean clothes I'd forgotten to take out before I sent them to Atlanta. So I picked a spot, away from the tree line, but near to Lori and Carl's tent, which so happened to be next to Shane's tent, and set my own up.

I ducked into my tent, zipping it up behind me, tugging off my jacket and dropping it down onto the floor. Moving over to my duffel bag, I rummaged through it until I found the sleep shirt and the red checkered pair of shorts I had packed. I quickly stripped off my dirty clothes, kicking them to one side of the tent, and pulled the clean pajamas on, diving almost immediately under my thick, army issue sleeping bag to get out of the cold air. I'd made a makeshift mattress out a few thick blankets I always kept in the Jeep, so sleeping on the tent floor was more comfortable. Or as comfortable as it was going to be.

It took an hour, but I had almost drifted off to sleep when I realized I still needed to switch off the electric lamp. I pushed myself upright, and bit back a curse word or two when I saw that I had placed the damn lamp as far away from me as possible. I groaned, not wanting to get back up after I had just gotten comfortable, but knowing Shane would probably pitch a fit if I left it on.

I had just started trying to reach the lamp from where I was, when the door to my tent unzipped and I grabbed my Glock from beside my pillow, flicking the safety off, just in case. I didn't hear any growling or moaning or snarling, but walkers who survived getting their throats ripped out, along with their vocal chords, couldn't make a sound.

I breathed a sigh of relief when it was Rick; still very much human, and arching a brow at the gun pointed at him.

"Don't give me that look. You can't be too careful. For all I knew, you could have been a walker, or a murderer, or a rapist!"

"Thea, we are safe here. These are good people, I think," Rick mused, as he came into the tent and sat down beside me. "So I don't think you'll be at risk of rapists or murderers."

"Yeah, okay, fine. So what brings you into my humble home, Helicopter Boy?" I questioned, smiling at him. He grinned and shook his head at the new nickname given to him by Morales.

"I was hoping I could be your roommate, Eagle Eye," Rick said, causing me to stare at him, scrutinizing him to find out the reason he wanted to stay here, instead of with Lori and Carl. I mean, did he suspect the same thing I did? That Lori and Shane had become a thing to cope with his loss, or this new world, or whatever. If he did, Rick didn't give anything away. "It's only been an hour, but it feels weird, you not being right there, you know?"

I knew what he meant, I had felt the same when I went to bed and he wasn't there at my side, but I still tried to find something, anything that told me that he would rather be somewhere else. I couldn't tell, but eventually just nodded, shifting over so there was room for him under the sleeping bag. It was only then that I noticed that he'd lost the pressed pants of his uniform and the checked shirt that Lori had kept of his. He was just wearing a plain white tee shirt, his boxers and his shoes.

"You came here in just that? You halfway through a show out there, Full Monty?" I questioned, a grin on my face as he rolled his eyes and shuffled under the blanket, pushing his shoes off with his feet before he climbed in, reaching towards the lamp to dim the lights for us.

"Shut up, Freckles, and go to sleep." Rick replied, shifting around until he got comfortable on his back, tugging on my arm until I laid back down and cuddled up to him. It was much better sleeping on him, than sleeping alone, I thought, as I rested my head on his chest, our bodies practically knitted seamlessly together.

"You haven't called me Freckles since we were seventeen." I muttered, smiling like an idiot.

It always used to be his nickname for me, because of all the light freckles across the bridge of my nose and cheekbones. They weren't even that noticeable unless you were really close to me, but Rick insisted on calling me it. He even used to tell Shane off when he used it. It was just for him. So Shane was the first person to shorten my name from Thea to T, and he used to tell Rick off for using his nickname for me, but then everybody started using it so he gave up. Rick was Dimples, and Shane was Curly, all for obvious reasons. Freckles remained just Rick's though. Until Lori. It wasn't that she was jealous or anything. He just stopped getting so close to me to notice them.

"I haven't been this close to you since we were seventeen. You got a lot more freckles now." Rick commented, closing his eyes and resting his head atop mine.

"No shit…really? You mean after nineteen years, I got more freckles? No way!" I teased him, piling on the sarcasm, and he squeezed my middle, making me laugh silently.

"Shut up, Freckles, and go to sleep." Rick repeated, his lips pressing into my hair, so I rolled my eyes, but ended up yawning out of exhaustion.

"Good idea, Dimples."

Closing my eyes and letting the darkness creep in, I was almost asleep when I heard Rick speak again, his voice soft as he attempted to keep the volume down.

"T?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think I did the wrong thing with Dixon?"

I knew I had already given him an answer when we were all sat around the campfire, my opinion on it was now well known among the group, but, I guess Rick probably just needed a little support and reassurance. Knowing that a man had been left behind partly because of his actions must have been playing on his mind.

"I think you did what you did to protect me, protect those people, and that's always the right thing. Merle would have blown the whole plan with his crazy," I murmured, sleepily rubbing his chest with my hand. Tomorrow morning, when I was wide awake and overanalyzing everything, I would probably realize how domestic this all was. Confiding in each other in bed, comforting each other, sleeping tangled up in each other. Thankfully, it wasn't tomorrow, and my mind seemed to push the thought into a corner, forgotten until I had a clear mind. "We just need to sleep on it, and decide what we're doing tomorrow. Everything can wait until tomorrow morning."

I felt him nod, his fingers digging in slightly into my side, and I patted his chest in reply.

"Night, Freckles."

"Night, Dimples."

I succumbed to the heaviness of my eyes lids, falling asleep, my dreams decidedly nicer as images of summers spent camping under the stars, Rick, Shane and I sleeping side by side and making up our own constellations when we forgot the ones that already existed, flooded in my mind.

Needless to say, but I slept well that night, even despite the storm raging on outside.


Morning came much quicker than I wanted it to. I was dragged, kicking and screaming, back to the land of the conscious when I heard the zipper to the tent opening. I gripped my gun, hiding it underneath the blanket, until a small head popped into view.

"Carl! Morning, squirt," I whispered, sighing in relief, letting the gun remain hidden under the blanket, the safety back on. I sat up, untangling myself from Rick, lowering his arm onto the blankets gently, careful not to wake him. "How'd you sleep?"

"Okay, I guess. Why is dad sleeping in here?" Carl whispered back, and I shrugged, not really knowing what to say to him. I didn't really know why Rick had come to my tent out of all tents last night either, so I couldn't answer him anyway.

"He was cold? Give me five minutes to change out of my jammies, and we can help with breakfast, okay?" Carl nodded, seeming to accept my answer and my abrupt subject change, before ducking back out of the tent.

I quietly got up, discarding my pajamas next to my duffel, and grabbed a fresh set of clothes. I pulled on a clean set of underwear (thanking God that Rick was asleep as I did so), a pair of cargo combat pants, a khaki colored short-sleeved tee, and my lucky brown boots. These boots were just lucky, okay? Not only did good things happen when I was wearing them, I looked amazing in them. I teamed these up with a short khaki skater dress once, and got a two syllable 'da-amn' in those boots. So they were lucky.

After strapping my holsters around my thighs, I holstered my two guns, having replaced the one I'd given to Glenn with another Glock of the same make as my remaining one. I pulled my hair up into a messy bun, hoping that I'd have a chance to wash it at some point today. There was a giant lake at the bottom of the quarry where the women did the washing, or so Andrea told me, and I couldn't wait to be clean again. That shower at the police station had already worn off what with our city excursion yesterday. Once I was ready, I started to head out, until I realized that it was daylight and Rick had turned up to my tent last night in just a shirt and his boxers.

I ducked out the tent, walking until I found a familiar face, which just happened to be Ed's wife, Carol.

"Hey…Carol, isn't it?" I questioned, and she smiled and nodded at me, as she ironed, using an old fashioned metal flat iron and a rickety ironing board. "You wouldn't happen to know where I could find some clean clothes for Rick, would you? He lost his duffel somewhere between the 85 and Atlanta."

"I already got some for him. I washed up his uniform for him, so I figured he'd need something while he waits for it to dry." Carol said, nodding to a white shirt, pair of blue jeans and a pair of sneakers on a pile next to her.

"You didn't need to do that, but it was very kind of you. Not many people are like that anymore. Thank you." I thanked her, surprised that she had washed Rick's clothes, but no less grateful. I had planned on washing them along with mine after I'd washed up at the lake, but I guess I didn't need to now.

"It's no problem. Just nice to have something to do." Carol replied, shrugging her shoulders, and I realized that we had yet to make eye contact. Subtly, I scoped the area for her husband, finding him off to one side watching his wife, just sitting in the same folding chair he'd been in last night. Everybody was doing something, but not him.

"Well, we appreciate it. Listen, I'm gonna drop these to Sheriff Snores-a-Lot, and I'll come back and help with the laundry or the ironing or whatever you need, okay?"

Without waiting for an answer, I grabbed the clean clothes for Rick and headed back to my tent. I hadn't zipped it back up, so I was able to stealthily creep back in, leave the clothes somewhere he'd see them, and sneak back out again without waking him up.

When I got back to Carol, she handed me a basket of wet laundry and sent me over to Lori, who was already hanging up some of Carl's clothes on a makeshift washing line, Andrea and Amy. They smiled at me as I approached and then gave me my own line where I started hanging up some more kid sized clothes, probably Carol's little girl's, to dry.

"Have a good night?" Lori questioned, as we worked.

"Uh yeah, got some sleep for a change. It was nice knowing that there were a lot of good people around that would have my back, makes it easier to let my guard down enough to just fall asleep." I answered, pegging a small, colorful t-shirt to the line.

"Must've been rough, spending all that time alone." Andrea commented, and I nodded.

"It was until Morgan and Duane came along. They'd had a rough time of it too, and we kinda just stayed stuck together…Morgan's wife had been bitten, and he couldn't put her down and he couldn't move on either, and I…I was stuck too," I confessed, looking over at the other three women as I confided in them. I barely knew Amy, or Andrea for that matter, but it was about building relationships with the few good people left, and I knew Lori could understand. She always did. "I guess I was just waiting on a sign that I could find something from my old life to push me forward again."

"And you found Rick." Lori stated rather than asked, and I nodded.

"Yeah. And then we found you guys. Putting aside the fact that we almost died quite a few times…yesterday was a good day." I grinned, as I pegged a pair of small cutoff jeans to the line next to a pair of Carl's. I reached in to the basket, only to find that I had finished hanging the load that Carol had given me.

"Morning, Officer." Lori greeted, and I turned to see Rick approaching in his borrowed clothes.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty. Nice sleep?" I teased, as I started to help Lori hang Carl's clothes. I glanced at Andrea and Amy, and nearly threw one of Carl's shirts at them when I saw them both give me knowing looks. What the hell could they know anyway? Barely knew either of them.

"Yeah. Better than in a long time." Rick smiled, and I grinned at him.

"Well, I didn't want to wake you. Figured you could use it. Build your strength back up," Rick nodded, but there was something in his expression that had me pausing for a moment to work out which of his looks this was. I sighed when I got it. "Oh God, Lori, he's doing it."

"I know, I can see it." Lori replied, continuing to peg the laundry.

"See what?" Amy questioned.

"That's his 'I've been thinking' face, and it never ends well for me," I groaned, ignoring Rick's mixed expression as Amy and Andrea laughed. It was somewhere between amused and offended. I placed my hands on my hips, and tilted my head back slightly. "Out with it. 'Hey, T, I've been thinking…'"

Rick rolled his eyes at my poor imitation of his voice. I never said I was a good Rick impersonator.

"Hey, T, I've been thinking, about the man we left behind." I stared at him, before I shook my head, knowing where he was going with that line of thought. Lori sensed it too, and she scoffed at him, as I started to build my argument against his thought.

"You are not serious."

Just before Rick could answer, Shane pulled up in his Jeep.

"Water's here, y'all. Just a reminder to boil before use." Shane announced, hopping out of the car, nodding in our direction before moving to the bed of his Jeep to help Andrea and the others unload the water.

Rick turned back to face us, and I frowned at him.

"You asking or telling?" I asked, folding my arms over my chest, as Lori moved to my side, hands perched on her hips, an equally unhappy expression on her face. She and Rick may be separated or whatever, but he was the father of her son, and they needed him as much as I did. Rick looked between us, and knew that there was only one right answer.

"Asking."

"I think it's crazy. I think it is the stupidest way to break your-" Lori started to tear him a new one, and I was going to add in my own two cents, when a woman's scream pierced through the air and we all heard Carl call out.

"Carl?" Lori called.

The kids started to call out to us all, and we all bolted to the source, and Dale tossed us a couple of weapons; Rick got a crowbar, and I was thrown a bat. We hurried to the kids, just as they poured out of the woods with Jacqui on their tails. Carl, Sophia and Morales' two kids ran towards us and into their mothers' arms, and Jacqui pointed us into the direction of the walker.

We ran into the woods, Shane on point and the rest of us following. I did notice that our group consisted of mostly the men, but I shook off that thought, and focused on my footsteps. I didn't want to trip when there was a serious situation to be dealt with.

We came into a small clearing in the trees, and there it was. A fallen doe was being feasted on by a walker. I grimaced at the mess of it, and the smell…the smell was bad. Andrea and Amy came up behind us, saw the scene and gasped in fear or disgust, but stayed back and let us deal with it.

The walker must have finally sensed us, as it climbed to its unsteady feet, seeming to lock eyes with Rick, before it began its approach. Rick knocked it back, before Shane clocked it with the butt of his shotgun, and Glenn forced it to the ground with a pipe wrench. We all just wailed on it, until Dale chopped of its head with his axe.

I breathed heavily, not understanding why I was breathless, before dropping the bat to the ground. It was just a head now. Even if it was still technically undead, as only a shot to the brain can kill it, it couldn't hurt anyone, unless they were fool enough to pick it up and literally put their arm or hand in its mouth.

"It's the first one we've had up here. They never come this far up the mountain." Dale informed us, and Rick and I exchanged a worried glance. This was bad.

"Well, they're running out of food in the city, that's what." Jim commented, and though his words were completely negative, they weren't untrue. There wouldn't be anyone left in the city, 'cept Merle, and there wouldn't be any wildlife. The walkers would start venturing out of the city to find new food sources.

A branch snapped behind us, and I pulled out my Glock, attaching the silencer. The bat was okay, but I preferred a gun in my hands. We all looked to the trees as we waited for something to reveal itself, listening to the rustling, and the tension building.

A man with a crossbow appeared, a dozen dead squirrels hanging from a rope across his shoulder, and the other guys lowered their weapons, so I reluctantly lowered mine, despite having no clue who he was. If Shane didn't deem him a threat, and knew him, then that was good enough for me.

"That's Daryl." Glenn whispered to me, and I looked at him with wide eyes. That was the other Dixon? He didn't look like Merle. He was actually handsome, in that rough, outdoorsy way, and he was smaller, leaner, but still muscled.

"Son of a bitch…that's my deer!" Daryl cursed, walking towards the fallen game with a look of anger and disgust. "Look at it, all gnawed on by this filthy, disease-bearing, motherless poxy bastard!"

With each adjective, Dixon viciously kicked the headless walker's body, and I arched a brow at Glenn, who shrugged as if to say 'He's a Dixon. You saw Merle', and I nodded at him.

"Calm down, son. That's not helping." Dale voiced, and I winced. If Daryl was anything like Merle, he would not take kindly to Dale's words.

"What do you know about it, old man?" Dixon asked, stepping up towards Dale, Shane barring his way with the butt of his gun. "Why don't you take that stupid hat and go back to On Golden Pond? I've been tracking this deer for miles. Was gonna drag it back to camp, cook us up some venison."

Daryl pulled his crossbow bolts from the deer's bloodied carcass, before he pulled out his knife and continued his tirade.

"Do you think we can cut around this chewed up part right here?" He questioned, looking up at us, but Shane shook his head.

"I would not risk that."

"That's a damn shame. Well, I got some squirrel, about a dozen or so. That'll have to do." Daryl stated, his anger gone almost as quickly as it came.

The walker head seemed to stir back into life, causing Amy to feel sick. Andrea wrapped an arm around her little sister's shoulder and led her away, while Dixon scolded us.

"Come on, people. What the hell?" He loaded his crossbow, and shot the walker through the eye, killing it instantly. Dixon started to walk past us, and Rick and I locked gazes. It was time to deal with yesterday's problems. "It's gotta be the brain. Don't y'all know nothing?"

We followed Daryl out of the woods, back to camp, wincing when he called out to his brother.

"Merle! Merle! Get your ugly ass out here! I got us some squirrel! Let's stew 'em up!" Daryl called out, as he put his stuff down by his and his brother's tent, and started to walk off to hunt his brother down.

"Daryl, just slow up a bit, I need to talk to you." Shane said, putting his shotgun away in the back of his Jeep, his words getting the other Dixon to pause, obviously sensing something in his tone. Rick and I followed Shane as he approached Daryl, wanting to help back him up if Dixon lost it, or to help him explain the situation if he didn't.

"About what?"

"About Merle. There was a…There was a problem in Atlanta." Shane informed him, and Daryl looked around, before casting his eyes down.

"He dead?" He was gripping the rope of squirrels in his hand, and if I had known him better, I would say that was the only way to tell that he was really worried about his brother, because his face was blank, as though he was preparing himself for the bad news already.

"We're not sure." Shane answered honestly, and I knew that maybe he should have given more details, because the uncertainty was what pissed Daryl off.

"He either is or he ain't!" Daryl's voice was getting louder, probably because he was angry, maybe because they had an audience and he was uncomfortable with that. He seemed like the type of person to feel things in solitude. We probably should have taken him aside and told him, instead of in front of the crowded RV.

"No easy way to say this, so, I'll just say it." Rick stepped in, and Daryl eyed him up, and then me, as I followed Rick. If Daryl Dixon had a temper like Merle's, then I was going to be on Rick's six until I was sure that he wouldn't get his ass handed to him again.

"Who are you?" Daryl questioned, gesturing to both of us.

"I'm Rick Grimes, she's Thea Winters."

"Rick Grimes, Thea Winters," He put a mocking emphasis on our names, and I rolled my eyes. "You got something you want to tell me?"

"Your brother was a danger to us all, so, I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked to a piece of metal. He's still there." Rick informed him, being straightforward and honest, something that he could do with being less of. One day, his morality and honesty was going to get him killed.

"Hold on," Daryl stepped away from Rick a little bit, pacing slightly as he looked between Rick, Shane and I. "Let me process this. You're saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof, and you left him there?"

I cast my eyes down to the floor, his anger making me feel guilty. Merle Dixon was an asshole, he did drugs, and he was racist and sexist and probably homophobic too, given his comment about 'rug munchers', but he seemed to be all Daryl Dixon had. Merle almost deserved to be left on that roof, but I knew that Daryl didn't deserve to lose his brother. I could see that already.

"Yeah."

Rick's one worded answer seemed to piss Daryl off even more, pushing him over the edge. He tossed his rope of dead squirrels at Rick, both of us narrowly dodging the flying animal carcasses, before he tried to rush him. Except, Shane saw it happening, and tackled him, pushing him to the floor.

"Watch the knife." T-Dog warned, abandoning the logs he had gathered for the night's campfires.

Daryl got to his feet, and swiped the knife at Rick, missing as Rick ducked backwards, but it was distraction enough for Shane to grab his arm, and for me to take out his legs from under him, forcing him to his knees. Rick knocked the knife of his hand, and Shane moved his arms so that Daryl was in a headlock he had no hope of escaping, but still tried to.

"You'd best let me go!" Daryl warned, still struggling to free himself from Shane's choke hold.

"Nah, I think it's better if I don't." Shane said, gripping a little tighter to compensate for Daryl's wriggling.

"Choke holding's illegal." Daryl spat, and I laughed.

"Yeah, well, file a complaint." I responded, as Rick and I crouched down in front of him, ready to have a calm, civilized conversation with him, but he was still trying to break free from Shane, who wasn't going to let him go until we were all certain that he wasn't going to be a threat to anyone in his anger.

"Come on, man, we'll keep this up all day." Shane stated, and I nodded, my eyes locking with the blue of Daryl's. His were bright with anger, and worry, and sadness, but I knew he wouldn't want me to see that, so I looked down at my folded hands instead.

"Except when his arms get tired, I'm gonna have to take over and it's not going to be as fun as it sounds." I added, smirking at Daryl's scowl. The Dixon's were easy to rile up. They had short fuses attached to large drums filled with gunpowder surrounded by dynamite.

"I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic. Do you think we can manage that?" Rick questioned, playing the patient diplomat, ever the peacekeeper.

When Daryl refused to answer, I tilted my head and caught the angry hunter's eyes.

"Do you think we can manage that?" I repeated, and seeing that he had stopped struggling, Rick nodded to Shane, and the other sheriff's deputy dropped, before taking a couple steps back. I stayed where I was, though I straightened up, not really feeling all that threatened by the hunter. He hadn't attacked me during the scuffle so I was confident that he was one of those 'won't hit women, 'cause they're fragile, vulnerable creatures' types of men.

"What I did was not on a whim. Your brother does not work and play well with others." Rick explained, and was about to continue when T-Dog cut in first.

"It's not Rick's fault. I had the key. I dropped it."

"You couldn't pick it up?" Daryl grunted from his place on the ground. He seemed to have flipped the off button on his anger again, and was mostly calm again.

"Well, I dropped it in a drain." T-Dog said bluntly, and Daryl shook his head.

He pushed himself back up onto his legs, throwing a bit of dirt away from him, and glaring at T-Dog.

"If it's supposed to make me feel better, it don't."

"Maybe this will. Look, I chained the door to the roof, so the geeks couldn't get at him, with a padlock." T-Dog revealed to him, and Rick stepped forward again, earning Daryl's attention.

"It's gotta count for something."

I watched as Dixon seemed to succumb to a moment of real emotion, tears springing up into his eyes, and he furiously wiped his face with the back of his hand.

"Hell with all y'all! Just tell me where he is so's I can go get him." Daryl demanded, his voice cracking slightly towards the end.

He was just a man looking for his brother. Like Rick had been a man looking for his wife and son. I knew that was the reason that Rick was eager to go back into that city, despite having found his family again against all odds. He knew what it felt like to lose your family and have to search to find them.

"He'll show you. Isn't that right?" I scowled at Rick, my arms folded across my chest.

Rick looked at me, and I shook my head, angry that he was putting his life on the line again, even if he had good reasons to do it, breaking our eye contact, glaring at the dirt underneath my feet.

"I'm going back."

I shook my head at him again, my jaw clenched along with my fists, before I walked away, ignoring him when he called my name.

This was stupid. So stupid. Idiot was going to get himself killed and me along with him. I was almost to my tent when he finally caught up to me. He didn't grab me, he knew that would be stupid and the complete opposite of what I want, but just followed me until I stopped, turned and slapped him.

He blinked at me rapidly, his hand coming up to cradle his smarting cheek, but I didn't feel that guilty about it. He was going to get himself killed and he was going to leave me heartbroken again. All for a man who wouldn't do the same thing if the roles were reversed.

"I risked my life, Rick, my life to get you to Atlanta, and out of it, to find your family, and now you're turning your back and walking back into that death trap? What the fuck are you thinking?" I hissed, not caring that my palm had left an angry red blotch on his cheek, or that I had hurt him at all. "We should stay here. With them. Protecting them. They should be our priority, not some jumped up, piece of shit who attacked members of his own group."

I couldn't believe he was doing this; that he was walking away from the good in his life and all of it for Merle Dixon? That coma must've messed with his brain if he thought that Merle Dixon, who punched him after knowing him for all of five seconds and beat a man to the ground because of the color of his skin, was worth the risk we would be taking.

"I have to go. Leaving him there…it's not right, T. It's not human." Rick insisted, and I breathed in deeply, trying to calm myself down, because while he was right, he was still stupid.

"I know it isn't. Just because I know that you're right, that what you're doing is the right thing, the decent thing, and just because I understand your reasons, respect them even, doesn't mean I like them. It definitely doesn't mean that it doesn't piss me off or that I don't think it's completely stupid that you want us to go back into that city for some asshole like Merle Dixon," I ranted, until I caught a look in his eyes. It was different to his 'I've been thinking' face and a lot different to his 'I'm in agony', 'I'm starving and I want a cold beer' and 'go away, the Super Bowl is on' faces. This was his 'I'm sorry but…' face. "What? What are you not saying?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't want you to come with us."

I stared hard at him for what felt like a life time as I waited for him to continue, to say 'I'm just kidding, Freckles', and laugh at my dumbstruck face. Except, he didn't. My stomach seemed to plummet into my feet, while my heart skyrocketed into my mouth. He was one hundred per cent sure about this. I could see it in his eyes. He did not want me to have his back when he went back into that godforsaken city.

He was leaving me behind.

"What?" I questioned, feeling hurt. Did he think I was incapable? Did I make myself out to seem that way? I was the most qualified for the job! I had so many S and R's under my belt that I lost count over the 18 years of service. "You want to leave me here while you go and play the hero? I never signed up for role of the worried wife, Rick Grimes. Snarky sidekick has always had my name written all over it."

"I need to keep you safe, and you need to keep the rest of the group, including Carl, Lori and Shane, safe while I'm gone. I'm not leaving you behind, I'm asking you to stay. Can you do that? For me? Please? Promise me?" Rick beseeched, and I let out a sigh of exasperation, as I struggled to find a way to say no to that. He wanted to protect me, while I protected the group, and I knew that he was just worried because of the close calls we had yesterday, but…I wanted to protect him too.

"Sitting on the sidelines isn't my style. You know that," Rick opened his mouth to argue with me, but I held up a finger and silenced him. "But I promise that I'll keep them safe. I'll stay, but you have to come back. I don't care if it means you have to leave both the Dixons behind, you find a way back to m-to us. We already lost you once, I'm not ready to live through that again. It hurt, Rick, more than you'll ever know and I won't let you make me feel that way again. So go, save the racist crack head, but come back. Or I'll have to come get you."

"Don't doubt that you would," Rick replied, and I felt tears spring into my eyes, terrified that I might lose the man I was so gone for again, so I closed the distance between us, and wrapped my arms around his neck, hugging him tight so he wouldn't see me cry. Rick curled his arms around my waist, holding me to him, as I tried to push back against my emotions. "It's going to be okay, you know? I'll come back."

"You'd better suit up then, Officer Friendly. Can't go storming the city dressed like that," I said, releasing him and taking a couple shaky steps backwards, trying to distance myself from him again. "I'll go get your uniform from Carol."

I walked away to find the housewife, catching her outside the RV with a couple of the other women, including Lori, who had watched me as I approached.

"Hey, Carol, could you take Rick his uniform? He needs to get ready."

Carol nodded, heading over to her washing to grab Rick's stuff, before heading off to my tent with it. Lori stared at me, and I knew we were both feeling that same anger and disappointment at war with our own morals and ideals.

"Couldn't convince him, huh?" Lori questioned, and I shook my head.

"I tried. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. We know what he's like. He's a good man with a heart of gold and a stubborn streak that'll give anybody grey hairs but, we've still got a little time to change his mind," I nodded at the mother of one in agreement, but I knew that even more time wouldn't be enough to convince him. He had decided and he was determined to follow through with his plan. Not even puppy dog eyes from Carl would convince him to stay. "Come on, let's go sit down with Carl, get them some stuff ready, just in case."

I followed staying silent, trying to figure out why Rick was so determined to save a man like Merle Dixon. No, there had to be something else. Something more to it. I sat down on the log next to Lori, and Carl came over and sat on my lap, while his mother busied herself with something or another. I curled my arms around him, and pressed my lips into his hair.

"Dad's going back into the city, isn't he?" Carl asked, his voice quiet.

"Yeah, squirt, he is. He's gonna help Daryl get his brother off the roof, and they'll come right back." I replied, squeezing him slightly, trying to comfort him even if I knew that his dad would be the only one who could at this moment.

"What if he doesn't?"

"Hush now. Your dad survived a gun shot and came out of a three month long coma, and the first thing he did was put on his uniform, arm himself and started to search for you and your mom. There is nothing that could keep him from you, walkers be damned," I convinced, though I wasn't sure who I was tryna convince. Carl or me. "You ain't got a thing to worry about. Rick Grimes is the toughest man I know, 'sides Shane, and he'll always come back, okay?"

Carl nodded, and I just held him, while Lori and Andrea packed a few things for the two men. Shane, I knew, had waited near my tent for Rick to come out after changing so he could change his mind. I watched them arguing, craning my neck to do so, but I still couldn't hear what was being said. That was until Rick walked away from his male best friend, but Shane wasn't going to drop it.

"Could you just tell me why you'd risk your life for a douche bag like Merle Dixon?" Shane requested, finally within hearing distance.

Daryl, who had been sharpening his bolts and hunting knives, stood up then and glared at Shane, pointing his crossbow bolts at him, almost threateningly, but Shane shrugged it off.

"Hey. Choose your words more carefully." Daryl warned him, but Shane just glanced at him, brushing off the warning and continuing.

"No, I did. Douche bag's what I meant. Merle Dixon…guy wouldn't give you a glass of water if you were dying of thirst." Shane sneered, and I nodded, though neither man was looking at me to see.

Merle Dixon did seem like the type that if you were on fire, would taunt you with the last bucket of water on earth before drinking it in front of you, watching with sick glee while you burned. Some men were just like that. They didn't have evil intentions or dastardly master plans of world domination, they just wanted to laugh while the world burned and take what was left for themselves. They were dangerous, but only in the sense that they were unpredictable, like Merle Dixon.

"What he would or wouldn't do doesn't interest me. I can't let a man die of thirst, me," Rick stated, and Shane shook his head, opening his mouth to argue, but Rick's next words cut him off. "Thirst and exposure. We left him like an animal caught in a trap. That's no way for anything to die, let alone a human being."

"So, you and Daryl, that's your big plan?" Lori questioned, scoffing in disbelief. It was stupid, but Glenn said he had ventured into the city numerous times alone. Two men can't be worse off than one alone, could they?

Rick glanced at Lori, Carl and I, propping his hands on his hips before he turned to give Glenn a beseeching stare.

"Oh, come on!" Glenn whined, obviously not wanting to go back to the city after their terrible last venture, but knowing he'd end up going anyway.

"You know the way. You've been there before, in and out, no problem. You said so yourself. It's not fair of me to ask, I know that, but I'd feel a lot better with you along. I know Thea would too." Rick said, and I glared at the back of his head, ushering Carl off my lap as I stood up, taking a few steps forward to face Glenn directly.

"Not that he had a right to drag me into his guilt trip, but he's right. Since he doesn't want me there, there's no one, except a select few, that I would trust more to get him in and back out of that city in one piece." I added, and Glenn seemed to stand taller at my words, almost proud, I suppose, that he had earned my trust so quickly. How could he have not earned it? He had saved our lives whilst risking his own for us. Rick and I owed Glenn an awful lot.

"That's just great. Now you're gonna risk three men, huh?" Shane snapped, and I knew that he was only thinking of the camp. The more people that went, the more vulnerable the camp would be.

"Four." T-Dog corrected, and I figured that he wanted to go to lessen his guilt and make right his wrong, even if it was more Merle's fault anyway.

"My day just gets better and better, don't it?" Daryl huffed, and I rolled my eyes. The Dixons were alike, but I think it had more to do with Merle's influence on his younger brother than anything, or maybe their father's influence on them both. Daryl just seemed ignorant rather than racist, possibly because of whatever upbringing he had. Merle probably influenced him more than he realized.

"You see anybody else here stepping up to save your brother's cracker ass?" T-Dog retorted.

"Why you?" Daryl questioned, cleaning his bolts with an old rag.

"You wouldn't even begin to understand. You don't speak my language."

"That's four." Dale surmised, and I sighed, rubbing my fingers on my temples, feeling the stress start to build up.

Four men down in a camp full of civilians who couldn't protect themselves. There had to be at least thirty people in camp, including the four kids. That's twenty six able bodied people, fourteen men and twelve women, and only Rick, Shane, Daryl, Dale and I had weapons training, in varying degrees of skill. With Rick and Daryl going, that left me, Shane and Dale with the only firepower in camp. T-Dog and Glenn would take a couple of the blunt instruments to protect themselves, which took away from our dwindling supply of men and weapons. We would be vulnerable, so there had to be a better reason for Rick going. I just had to think of what it was.

"It's not just four. You're putting every single one of us at risk – just know that, Rick. Come on, you saw that walker – it was here. It was in camp! They're moving out of the city, they come back, we need every able body we've got. We need 'em here. We need 'em to protect camp." Shane insisted, and while I agreed with him, there was strength in numbers, I worked out what Rick was also heading to the city for.

"The bag of guns? That's your play?" I questioned, and Rick pointed at me, still looking at Shane.

"Right…the guns." Glenn uttered, coming to the same conclusion I did.

"Wait, what guns?" Shane questioned, looking between the three of us.

"Six shotguns, two high-powered rifles, over a dozen handguns. I cleaned out the cage back at the station before we left. I dropped the bag in Atlanta when Thea and I got swarmed. It's just sitting there on the street, waiting to be picked up." Rick informed him, and I could see that Shane was now torn between our need for those weapons and our need for our guys to stay put to protect the camp.

"Ammo?"

"Seven hundred rounds, assorted." I answered, tapping my fingers over my mouth nervously. Going after those guns was going to be dangerous. They were in the middle of a walker infested street, the same one we got swarmed on. It would be risky, and someone was going to have to take that suicide run, and I saw little chance for success.

"You went through hell to find us, to get Thea somewhere safe. You just got here and you're gonna turn around and leave?" Lori questioned incredulously, causing Rick to glance at the two of us, seeing the same disappointment and hurt, because though I understood the reasons he had given, I didn't think they were enough. Not to risk his life so soon after he'd just returned to it.

"Dad, I don't want you to go." Carl added, and I turned my head to give the boy a shaky smile.

"To hell with the guns. Shane is right. Merle Dixon? He's not worth one of your lives even with guns thrown in!"

"She's right. There's something more to this than Merle Dixon and guns. You wouldn't risk your life, not after finding your family again, not for a guy like him. I don't care how noble or kind or moral you are, I don't believe you'd leave now just for him and a bag of guns. I've got guns. I've got an M4 with a grenade launcher, I've got a Mossberg 12 gauge shotgun, and I've got two Glock 26's, with two hundred rounds for each weapon. Hell, I've got C4, smoke grenades and flashbangs if you want them," I stated, not moving back as he stepped closer to me, with those blue eyes begging me to understand. "Explain it. What's the real reason? Because I still don't get it. Make me understand, Rick. Make us understand."

"I owe a debt to Morgan and Duane. They protected you, and helped you clean me up and teach me how to live in this new world. It's because of them, we made it here at all, T. You know that. And they said they'd follow us to Atlanta. They'll walk into the same trap if we don't warn them."

"The walkie," I breathed, dropping my head in shame. I couldn't believe that I'd forgotten about the walkie-talkie and Morgan and Duane. "You need the walkie to contact Morgan and tell him Atlanta is a no go."

"What's stopping you?" Lori asked, rising to her feet next to Carl, and Rick tore his eyes off me to speak directly to her.

"The walkie-talkie, the one in the bag I dropped. Morgan's got the other one. Our plan was to connect when they got closer." Rick explained, Lori nodding as she realized the problem like I did.

"Is it our walkies?" Shane questioned, and Rick nodded.

"Yeah."

"So use the CB. What's wrong with that?" Andrea asked, finally getting into the conversation. Most of the group was standing around, listening to the argument of whether they should go or not, but thus far, no one else had contributed anything.

"CB's fine. It's the walkies that suck to crap – date back to the seventies, don't match any other bandwidth, not even the scanners in our cars." Shane explained, but if she replied, I didn't hear her, because Rick was trying to sway me with those annoyingly beautiful blue eyes of his.

"We need that bag, Freckles."

I squeezed my eyes closed and shifted forward, resting my forehead on his chest, feeling his hands running up and down my arms, trying to comfort me, I think. While I couldn't make myself feel good about his blatant disregard for his own safety and his good intentions, I still knew that we couldn't let Morgan and Duane walk into Atlanta. They had been so good to me, when I was alone and heartbroken, just like I'd tried to be to them, when they were mourning their own loss. I knew Rick needed to do this. I just wanted to be with him.

We stayed like that a couple of moments, and I nodded, before walking over to Shane, balancing myself on his Jeep's bumper next to him. Shane curled his arm around my shoulders, tugging me into his side, and I rested my head on his shoulder, while Rick got Carl's blessing.

I closed my eyes, and prayed that I wouldn't regret letting Rick leave me behind this time. I prayed that nobody would end up getting hurt while they were gallivanting in a city that no longer belonged to the living.

I prayed for a miracle.


A/N:

Hey guys!

Okay, so this is the longest chapter of Exit Wounds that I have ever written…it may possibly be the longest chapter of anything that I've ever written. A lot, and I mean a lot, of stuff is packed into this chapter; we've got the reunion between the King's County family (Rick, Lori, Carl, Shane and Thea), we've got Rick's story, we've got the set-up to Lori/Shane, we've got more Rick and Thea fluff and more insight into their childhood with Shane. There's also the introduction of Daryl, the foundations of friendship between Thea, Amy and Andrea (I don't want to spoil things but I've got great things planned), Rick revealing his plans to go back into the city to save Merle and get the guns, plus even more Rick and Thea relationship foundation building.

This was a monster of a chapter that I just couldn't find a place to cut it off. I mean, there are probably several, but the cut-off point here felt better, more natural, you know?

Anyway, I want to thank all of the beautiful reviewers for the last chapter;

SnarktheRose, MrsBennyLafitte, Proxy-Blue22, angie b, Cooky Crumbla and heatherhugsall.

You guys are so awesome and thank you so, so, so much for taking the time to review, because reviews are so important to writers in terms of getting motivation to write. If you think no one's reading, then you lose the motivation to write.

The next chapter update will be on September 19th, and it's going to be a good one, so keep an eye out for it.

I really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, I put a lot of time and effort into this so please let me know what you think!

Until next time,

SophStratt.