New Meanings To Old Words: LOVE

Not gonna linger long here ….

Here we go peeps… we're headin' 18 Miles Out…

As always read, review and most of all enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing but Callie and the crew of misfits (and all their grand little side adventures). G'bless.

What Makes A Good Man Pt. 1

The car had stopped and instead of calming the rolling of his stomach it only worked it further into a frenzy. He worked in a deep breath through his nose, his eyes blinking madly behind the dirty covering that obscured his vision, the smell of his own sweat mixing with whatever had been on the fabric before it was tied over his eyes nearly making him gag. The heavy beat of the music blaring through the headphones that had been tightly duct taped to his head was disorienting as it mixed with the rapid beat of the blood pounding through his head and chest

His breathing was harsh, fast, almost out of control. It was a horrid, sickening feeling.

And sadly, Randall knew this feeling well, remembered it from the early days back when all of this craziness started. Remembered how hard it was to slow his breath so that he could actually catch it, or to work past that hard pound of his blood rushing through his head. Remembered how debilitating it could be. Remembered how he thought he would never know anything but that feeling ever again.

Strange to think that he hadn't actually felt this way in a long time. Hadn't been afraid, even though the people he'd hooked up with really wouldn't be the types to usually instill a sense of safety into anything but the lowest and mangiest of men. Which now that he thought about it, maybe that's what he was. Lowly. Mangy.

But he'd survived. He survived and he'd been safe, and he'd figured out a way to breathe again. Until now.

Now he was blinking back tears, tears that were mixing with the sweat from his brow and whatever the fuck was on that rag around his head, makin' him sick as hell. Now he was breathing hard and struggling against the restraints on his busted up body, trying not to panic but failing miserably. Now he was alone, facing down the wrath of a group that he and his crew of low, mangy miscreants had done wrong.

His heart was beating up in his throat and ready to escape, if only given the chance to creep out past the tape holding his lips closed. His head was pounding and his wrists were raw, and when the cool fresh breeze blew into that sweat-box of a trunk tellin' him that the hood had been opened he felt the bile rise in the back of his throat.

His throat worked convulsively to swallow it down, and again he tried in vain to loosen the tape around his mouth and speak to his captors. If he could just talk to them, talk some sense into them, tell them it was all just a mistake. Remind them what the world was now. Remind them that he was just a dumb kid with no one left in this world tryin' to make due. Maybe he'd be able to save his sorry, mangy little ass.

He'd done it before.

Talked his way out of death and damnation and into safety. Sure he'd betrayed a few others. Left them for dead even after they'd saved his life and took him in… and fuck if he wouldn't be willing to do it again to those mangy bastards back at his camp. Because in the world they lived in now it was all about watchin' your own ass. And if there was one thing that Randall was damn good at it was watching and saving his own ass.

The inside of the car was too damn hot. Even with the windows open and the light breeze of early Fall whipping around his head the sweat was still rolling down the side of his neck, and drenching the open collar of his shirt.

Rick sniffed back the tickling sensation of the bead of sweat that had rolled along the edge of his nose and settled at the side of his mouth. With a simple flick of his hand he wiped the bit of wetness away with the back of his hand, then raked his fingers through his dirty grown-out hair. Using his hand as a shield he shifted his gaze to the man sitting beside him.

Shane's eyes were exactly where they had been from the moment Rick had started the car. Settled firmly out the open window, letting the cool breeze flow over his stern face as he watched the landscape fly by. The indifferent, almost mocking way that his body was slouched down and turned away from Rick showed his contempt for the journey they were on. Showed clearly, at least to Rick who knew the man well enough to be able to see it, that Shane was just waitin' for Rick to fuck up. Waitin' for this trip to be the 'bad idea' that he was so damned sure it was. Rick stared at the side of his former partner's face for a long moment, a lingering gaze that he was sure Shane felt. A gaze he wanted the man to feel. Shane's shoulders shifted just enough under the pressure and Rick's hand slipped back down to the wheel, tightening slightly on the sun-warmed vinyl. Rick's eyes shifted back to the road ahead and he felt his lips curl in a slight sneer. The quiet filtering between him and Shane was making the air thick, and heating what should have been a cool breeze to an almost unbearable sort of level. And it was starting to make Rick sick.

As Rick's foot pressed down on the brake at the crossroads ahead Shane's head finally shifted away from the window. His gaze settled out along the road, left then right as the car came to a complete stop, and then over to where Rick sat at the wheel. Rick shifted the car into park and sat for a second, letting that heat grow and grow between them. Shane's eyes moved over Rick's face, and Rick felt every damn second of it without even having to turn to face him. Without a word to his partner he exited the vehicle, barely making out the huff of a breath that Shane exhaled before following.

The doors to the car shut with a sound that seemed to reverberate through Rick's entire being. As Shane rounded the car, his eyes settled firmly on Rick, Rick turned in a tight circle. His eyes surveyed the country side, the four-way intersection they were at, and finally to the back of the car where their prisoner lay awaiting his fate. The cruelty of it all settled like a hard stone in Rick's throat, but he swallowed it.

His mind shifted to Callie's face as she walked up to him right before they left the farm. The look in her eyes as she pushed the map into his chest, her fingers pressing hard holding him in place to hear what she had to say. She'd held his gaze for a long second, her lips firmed as if she wasn't sure if she should say anything. But finally something broke in her and a single tear worked its way down her cheek before she spoke in a clear tone that he hadn't been expecting.

"I need you, too," Callie said in a quiet tone that he'd barely registered. Her eyes snapped up from where they'd been glued to his chest and her fingers pressed the paper of the map harder into his chest. He felt his jaw tighten and his lips firm against saying anything back. What was he even supposed to say that he hadn't already said? "Don't make this about fixing things; not for me, not for Shane, or Lori, or anyone else. There's nothing that's gonna get fixed out there. Nothing that matters in the cold light of day. Don't do anything stupid out there, Rick," Callie's words echoed in his head as he searched the surrounding area. "Keep your head on straight, do what you need to do and come back. Don't let your guard down. And don't make me have to come get your ass. I promise you'll regret it."

"I thought we were goin' further out?" Shane's voice rocketed into Rick's headspace and had him turning to face him, breaking his thoughts away from the not-so-distant past and back to that deserted crossroads. Shane's eyes held confusion when he met them. Confusion and a low underlying look of contempt that just didn't seem to leave Shane's face now. Rick held his gaze, knowing that Shane was reading each and every agitated move of Rick's body, taking in every signal that Rick's body just couldn't seem to hold in check anymore. Rick turned away from Shane again, taking in three very slow breaths through his nose before speaking.

"We need to talk," Rick said, his voice a low gravely tone that he barely even recognized as his own. Shane's response of 'We don't need to' was immediate and forceful, and Rick cut him off. Cut him off before the bastard could even begin to think that he was in control of this situation. "Yes we do."

"No, man, we don't," Shane continued, his voice even firmer than before. Rick turned to face him at this point, holding Shane's annoyed and angered gaze as he asserted his dominance. Shane's stance became defensive- aggressive, as his hands settled onto his hips near his gun and Rick sneered at the man. There would be no intimidation this time. No backing down. "We're doing this," Shane continued his hand shootin' out to the car, fingers spread and waving as he indicated the trunk where Randall lay bound and gagged. Rick's eyes narrowed as Shane let out a low disgruntled sigh watching as his hand fell back down to his side in annoyance. "I get it. I do. I'm here-"

"Not about this," Rick ground out through clenched teeth. "I'm not lookin' for your opinion on this. Not anymore. I'm not lookin' for your approval. I don't need it. We both know why you're here, so let's not pretend anymore." Rick's voice took on an edge that he didn't recognize in himself and in that moment he realized just how tired of all the bullshit he was. How tired of walking on egg shells. How tired of pretending. There just wasn't time for that anymore. Not if they really wanted to survive. Shane's eyes widened for a second as he processed what Rick was saying, his body leaned back in a way that told Rick he was surprised. Surprised and pissed off. But Rick didn't care. It was time to stop with the bullshit. Time to air the dirty laundry, before the stench got too unbearable to stand. Rick turned his body fully towards Shane and settled his hands on his hips. "I know what happened at the FEMA station-with Otis."

Shane's eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched, the muscle there ticking with the tension that had suddenly entered into his face. Rick watched Shane's nostrils flare just a bit as his words hit home. Watched a slow dawning sense of horror settle over him. Watched the man trying to figure out what he was going to say. How he was going to say it. Rick watched and wondered just what exactly he was wresting with in that head of his. What could the man that had been harpin' on the fact that the world was live or die now, be wrestling with?

Shane took a heavy breath in through his nose and let his hands drop from his hips, falling like dead weight to his sides before he lifted a single finger while he spoke.

"Look, I don't know what Miles said…" Shane began and Rick's lips firmed in an effort to hold back his disgust at the man standing before him. "I don't know what he may have said but he's a kid. A confused kid who-"

"Miles didn't say a thing to me," Rick said in a heated tone cutting off whatever Shane was going to say. Shane's hand fell a bit again, this time settling on his hip near the gun at his belt. Shane held Rick's gaze for a moment, his mouth opening and closing as he worked through things. Rick shook his head, and watched Shane's head begin to nod, that familiar bit of a sneer settling on his lips as he looked away and muttered to himself.

"Callie," Shane's voice was laced with something akin to humored malevolence, his head still shaking as his sneer slipped to a smirk of distain. He sniffed back something in his throat and spit off to the side of the road, apparently for a moment forgetting that Rick was there. "Shoulda known-Girl's gotta learn 'bout stickin' her nose into things." Shane muttered in a low tone and Rick spun back around to face his friend fully, his own finger lifting in a warning gesture catching Shane's attention again.

"Don't say another word. Back off of her, I'm warning you. Back off," Rick said through clenched teeth, his anger riding high again and boiling his blood a bit. Shane stared hard at him and Rick shook his finger into his friend's face as he advanced. "You think I'm stupid? You think I'm blind? That I don't know you well enough to know that whole story you told when you got back was bullshit? I don't need them to tell me-Jesus, man. You really think I didn't figure it out immediately?" Rick's lips firmed into a thin line again and his hand fell defeated at his side as he turned his back on the strange look riding across Shane's face. Rick settled his own hands at his hips and lowered his gaze to his feet waiting a few seconds for his calm to return. He could hear Shane shifting on the road behind him and he lifted his eyes to look out at the distant field, staring hard into the sunlit horizon. When Rick finally spoke again his voice was low and hoarse and barely over a whisper as it flowed painfully out of his throat. "Was it to survive?"

The question was met with silence, a long lingering sort of silence that had Rick shifting back around to stare at his friend. Shane's gaze met his, a look of slight confusion riding his features as his hands again slipped from their defensive position near his gun belt and to his sides. Shane swallowed hard and dipped his head in a bob as his eyes shifted away from Rick's in silent answer.

"Yeah," Shane said, his own voice matching Rick's. That single word seemed to stretch on and on, and Rick felt himself nod in acceptance as Shane continued. "One of us wasn't makin' it out of there, man. Miles…" Shane's head shook slightly and he ran a hand over his mouth. "I thought he was already dead. I figured it was just me left. I had to make it out of there. You don't understand-"

"I don't understand?" Rick repeated incredulously. "I don't understand?! What don't I understand?" Rick shook his head as he caught Shane's gaze again. "You don't think I could have done it. Don't think I-" Rick turned away for a moment gathering his thoughts and then turned back to Shane. "I would have done anything to save Carl's life. That is my son. There is nothing I don't understand here, Shane."

"Man, look at you," Shane waved his hand in front of him indicating Rick and then the car. "Look at this shit. Look what you've got us out here doing. You don't understand, not fully. You can't be doin' this and think you understand." Shane shook his head again and ran a tired hand over his shaved head. "You can't just be the good guy anymore and expect to live."

"I'm not the good guy anymore," Rick said, the words ringing strangely in his ears. The truth of them causing him to feel just a bit sick to his stomach. His eyes shifted to the trunk of the car where they had a boy tied up, ready to leave him to die. No, there wasn't a bit of good left in him now. His head shook slightly as he looked back to Shane wondering what the other man was thinking as he looked into his eyes. Callie's words of caution slipped into Rick's mind then, her advice not to let his guard down, not to think he knew the man Shane was now just because he knew the man he used to be. It was a hard truth to come to terms with but a necessary one.

There was a sickness growing in them. Whether it was true what Jenner said about them all being infected, or not, something was in them. Changing them all. Eating them from the inside. Making them barely recognizable as the people they had worked so hard to become before all of this happened.

"You don't get it," Shane's voice was quiet, and Rick shook his head. Shane was advancing, his hackles raised and Rick stood his ground watching in a strange sort of awe. "Your moral streak has always been a weakness, Rick; but in this world it's-" Rick lifted a hand to stop him from even continuing.

"Weakness," Rick repeated quietly his head shaking slightly. "You and Lori," Rick continued, cutting Shane off completely. He knew the words would catch the other man off guard, shut him up. Make him listen. Lori's name did that to Shan now, and it left that bitter taste in Rick's mouth knowing he used it the way he just did. Shane stared hard at him and Rick stepped forward, his voice lowering as he tried to keep his calm. Tried to get past his own anger at the situation and make peace, in some way between them. "I get what happened. I do-"

"Man, I-"

"When I figured it out," Rick said cutting Shane off yet again as another wave of anger rolled through him. "And I figured it out quick," Rick said snarling at the way Shane's eyes widened. He snarled and looked away, because in that moment Shane actually looked ashamed. Looked like he actually felt bad; and Rick didn't want to see him to feel bad. Didn't want to see that reminder of the man he cared for and trusted. He wanted to be angry and roll with it. Rick turned slowly back to face Shane and shook his head. "When I figured it out I wanted to break your jaw," Rick continued slowly advancing towards his friend. "Let you choke on your teeth and-" Rick cut himself off at that point, watching as yet again Shane looked shocked. How naïve did Shane actually think he was? Rick shook his head. "I wanted to, but I didn't. That's not weakness. That took everything I had."

A heavy silence fell between them and Rick took a steadying breath, his eyes once again roaming over the seemingly shamed body language of his friend before him.

"Everything that's happened," Rick continued slowly catching Shane's eyes as they lifted. "The CDC, the highway, you," Rick moved forward so that his face was scant inches from Shane's. "I put the group above everything, put them at the forefront of all of my decisions. That's not weakness. But I'll tell you now, I'm not that man anymore. I get what happened between you and Lori, and I'm moving past it. You need to do the same." Shane's eyes flashed with something that Rick couldn't quite read. "You don't love her, not like that. You think you do," Rick said seeing the heated disagreement flash quickly in Shane's eyes before he could put up a mask. "You think you do, but you don't. You need to understand and come to terms with that. That is my wife. My son, and my unborn child back there. I am not the good guy anymore. I am not gonna let you pester me about putting the group first and then go behind my back and tell my wife that I'm more concerned in the interests of others than I am in my own family's well-being. Don't-" Rick lifted a hand as Shane's mouth opened. "Don't even think I don't see it. Don't do that. Don't patronize me. I'm not the man I used to be, it's time you come to terms with that. Time for you to understand," Rick shifted just a bit more, his own heated breath bouncing back at him for how close he was to Shane's face. "That is my family. I walked through Hell to find them, and I will stay alive to keep them alive. And the only way you and me are gonna be able to move past this," Rick's hand shot out to the road they were on, the large crossroads. For the first time he sneered at the symbolism. "The only way we move forward, is with that understanding."

Shane's eyes lowered again, his head bobbing in an almost imperceptible bit of a nod. Rick could tell he wasn't happy about things, but he wasn't really ready to change anything either. Wasn't ready to make that call with Rick that he'd apparently made with Otis at that FEMA station. Wasn't ready to say that only one of them could 'make it' through this existence. As Rick turned away and once again surveyed the land around them, his eyes landing on the trunk of the car, he hoped that things would stay like that for him and Shane. That it wouldn't come down to one or the other in the end.

But Rick knew better. Hell, he could even hear Daryl's low growlin' voice in the back of his mind now. Hope's for fools, Rick.

"When it all started," Shane's low solemn voice cut into Rick's thoughts and had him turning back towards his former partner. "When this all started it was just weird stories on the news. Fuckin' people biting other people, we didn't-I didn't…" Shane cut himself, his eyes shooting out to the desolate world around them. "I never figured on any of this happening. I remember going to that hospital, after the stories on the news became more than just stories. After I started seein' it with my own eyes. The Walkers. I went to go get you out," Shane said, and Rick was shocked to hear the emotion, strong and unfiltered emotion, in his slightly quavering voice. "I went in to get you out. I wanted to get you out, but I couldn't. I knew that there was no way, no way for us both…" Shane stopped talking then, the statement left to hang in the stale air around them. Rick's eyes caught onto his former partner's, his best friend's, they caught and they held.

And whether Shane realized just how similar his words were, just how eerily they matched up with his previous statement about leaving Otis to die at that FEMA station, Rick couldn't tell. But something flickered in the back of those dark depths, something that had Rick's hair standing on end, and Shane's feet shuffling awkwardly beneath him.

"I couldn't live with myself, leaving you there like that," Shane continued, his voice a bit more raw as his eyes shifted once again away from Rick and out to the fields around them. It was obvious as Rick watched him, that Shane was back there, at that hospital, watchin' innocent people die and not doin' a thing to save them; leaving his best friend to whatever fate would make of his seemingly lifeless body. Rick shuddered a bit at the horror-stricken, pained expression on Shane's face and turned away. "I couldn't, but I had to. I owed it to you to-" Shane stopped again and Rick's shoulders hunched just a bit as a strange sort of guilt settled over him. Guilt for feeling so betrayed. Guilt for treating a man he'd trusted for a long time with such contempt. For not trusting him, not even now as he poured his heart out. "I owed it to you, man. I didn't keep Lori and Carl alive, they kept me alive. They," Shane took in a deep rattling wet breath through his nose and Rick shifted his eyes over his shoulder to his friend. "They kept me alive. What happened after that; what happened between us….brother, if I could take it back I would."

Rick held Shane's gaze over his shoulder and firmed his lips against what his friend was saying. Against what he wasn't saying. If he could take it back, he would. But take what back? Sleepin' with Lori? Leaving Rick at that hospital? Or maybe leaving him alive at that hospital?

Rick's eyes shifted away from Shane then and back towards the road they'd travelled down. His eyes worked to either side where the road branched off in perpendicular lines, and then finally to road behind Shane-the road ahead. No matter which way he looked, Rick saw the same stretch of road with the same shimmering horizon in the distance.

The same unknown end.

Shane shifted on his feet, his head tilting one way or another as he tried to catch Rick's gaze, but couldn't. Rick put his hands to his hips and let his eyes roam over the roads one more time, the cool breeze outside cooling his overheated skin as much as it could.

Three deep breaths, then move on.

Rick's shoulders lifted and fell three times as he continued to survey the roads around them. Shane was frowning now as he paced in a small circle in Rick's periphery. Finally Rick worked his mouth around, trying to work some saliva into his strangely dry mouth. He lifted a hand to his nose and rubbed at the sweat that had settled on his upper lip before speaking.

"I wanna check the ropes," Rick mumbled around his hand as he wiped at his mouth. His hands fell to his sides and he trudged away from his still pacing friend and towards the back of the car. Putting his hands to the trunk he watched Shane stare at him for a moment before walking purposefully to the open driver's side door and pressing the trunk release. Rick held Shane's gaze for a moment longer before lifting that trunk to block his glare.

18.4

Rick watched the odometer with a wary eye.

18.6

Rick heard Shane shift in his seat, once again his slumped position of silent agitation shifting upwards as he craned his neck to look at the slow moving number on the dash. He felt the heated stare of his friend on the side of his face and shifted his eyes over to the right to catch the confusion enter Shane's eyes.

"What's up? Thought we were going 18 miles," Shane asked, his eyes shifting from Rick's face to the odometer and then back.

18.8

"Yeah," Rick said, removing his right hand from the wheel and grabbing at the map settled in the center console between them. Shane watched with a raised brow as Rick settled the map on his thigh and slipped his gaze down to it briefly.

"What you doin'?" Shane asked as he worked to try and see what Rick was looking at.

"Lookin' for a place," Rick said idly as he moved his eyes from the marked up map back up to the road. He turned the car down a small roadway that was in fact a driveway and then looked back down to the map. Again Shane shifted in his seat, muttering something that Rick chose to ignore. Squinting in the slight bit of sun filtering in through the windshield Rick's eyes roamed over the sign they were passing.

"A place? You serious," Shane was saying, the incredulous anger in his voice finally causing Rick to spare him a glance. Shane's eyes moved away from the surrounding area and caught Rick's in a harsh battle of wills.

"Yeah, a place," Rick said slowing the car down to a stop and looking at his friend. "Figure we give him a fair shot."

"A fair shot," Shane repeated, and Rick sighed out his annoyance. This damn game they were playing was rattling on Rick's last nerve. "A fair fuckin' shot. Shit, man. Are you serious right now? I thought you cared about-Callie know you're givin' him a 'fair fuckin' shot'?" Shane's anger rolled through the space between them and slapped Rick hard in the face causing his eyes to shift back to the surrounding parking lot. His one hand tightened on the wheel, while the other lifted the map from his knee and shook it at the man in the passenger seat.

"Who do you think gave me the map?" Rick's voice was low, but it carried. Shane's eyes slipped to the map in Rick's hands and he let out a small 'pfft' before running a hand over his shaved head. Shane's gaze went back out the passenger window and Rick shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he let his gaze roam the area.

A heavy silence filled the car again, the air becoming thick with the unsaid words between them. Rick figured that Callie had been right all along. He never should have opened that can of worms at the crossroads. He shouldn't have made this trip about anything but dropping Randall off, getting some supplies and getting back home. But he had. From the moment he stopped that car and opened his mouth, the moment he and Shane began to discuss what was settled between them, this trip became less about Randall and more about them. More about proving who was right and who was wrong; who was stronger; who was really a survivor, a leader. More about figuring out if they could move forward or if-

Rick sneered; he didn't want to think about the other 'if' in this scenario.

Rick pulled the car over after a few more seconds of driving, the thick tension in the small car causing him to be more on edge than he felt comfortable with. He snatched the keys out of the ignition and spared a quick glance at Shane before exiting. His eyes roved the area settling on the small half-destroyed sign that welcomed them to the County Administration Building. Blood was splattered over half the lettering and along with what appeared to be the lower portion of a person settled near the bottom, it made for a not so pleasant welcome to the area. Rick grimaced at the sight and turned at the sound of the other car door slamming shut. Shane's eyes skimmed the area, his ever present scowl in place as his dark eyes moved back and forth. Rick shook his head lightly as Shane shifted his gun at his hip.

"We'll scout it out first," Rick said shifting forward. His gaze moved over to the trunk of the car quickly before he began making his way towards a fenced in parking lot.

"Yeah, maybe we'll find a nice little apartment or something for our buddy there. Get him good and comfy, you know. Wouldn't wanna leave him-"

"Drop it, Shane. We're here, we're doin' this my way. That's it," Rick said as Shane shifted along beside him. They held one another's gaze for a moment before Shane let out a sigh and extended his arm to Rick to lead the way. A muttered 'Whatever' at his back, almost had Rick turning back around. They continued on through the lot, each one shifting around bodies and debris with a renewed sense of awareness. Rick almost marveled at how easy it was to fall back into a formation with Shane. How nice it was to know exactly how the other's motions worked. How good it felt to have that innate sense of what the person at your back was capable of.

Then again, knowing exactly what Shane was capable of wasn't exactly the great relief that it had been before. Rick let out a sigh at himself and spared a look over towards Shane.

A single nod slipped between the two of them and they moved off in separate directions, Rick hoping that his talk in the car about being smarter about weapons hadn't settled completely on deaf ears. Rick watched Shane for a few moments more, his former partner working like the well oiled machine of efficiency that he was as he scouted around. It wasn't until Shane entered on to the school bus nearby that Rick let his gaze drop and survey the area around him. Rick kicked at the empty cans, food wrappers and other random debris at his feet, realizing now that their scavenger mission might be a lost cause.

There had obviously been a camp of people set up here, and from the looks of it a rather large one. But the way things had been left, the haphazard lay of the trash and the random bodies strewn about…Rick shook his head and ran a tired hand down his face as he worked along the edge of one of the fences. His eyes narrowed at the sight of smoke rising out of the ground and he pulled his gun instinctively.

Slowly he made his way forward, each crunching step he took echoing strangely in his ears. In the back of his mind he again heard Daryl, complaining in that off-hand manner of his about loud-ass city boys. Rick shook his head and let his eyes rove around him as his ears picked up on a muffled groaning from somewhere. But he couldn't pinpoint exactly where. Rick's face scrunched up a bit as the smell of whatever was around him wafted on the slight breeze. His left arm lifted, the inside of his elbow covering his nose while his mouth drew tight into a grimace of disgust. A second later he came to a stop, and his eyes shifted down.

The bodies were burnt and still smoking as they lay there, haphazardly tossed not onto the ground, but into it. A pit. A deep dark chasm holding a surprising amount of bodies stared back at him. Rick's eyes shifted over them slowly as his legs turned to jelly under him. Shaking his head he locked his knees and let his arm drop from his face as the smoke filtered slowly up to the sky above. His brow furrowed slightly as he took in that pit of bodies. Took it in and let it take him somewhere he didn't want to go.

Suddenly the world wasn't brightly lit anymore. He wasn't standing in the sun at a county building parking lot, but instead he was in the dark; in the woods. Standing next to a similar pit full of bodies, staring down at them as they stared up at him. Unburned, but dead all the same. Rick felt the bile rise in the back of his throat and again his arm lifted to his face as his head shook slowly to clear it.

The familiarity of the sight tickled at the back of his mind, but the impossibility of it-the chances that…

Rick shook his head roughly.

The sunlight returned around him slowly, the horrifyingly familiar groan of the undead yet again filtering past the rush of blood that had started between his ears. Rick blinked a few times and let his hand fall to his side, his gun hitting off his thigh like a lead weight. His eyes shifted towards the fencing that ran behind the pit of smoldering bodies and he began a slow cautious trek along it. The sounds soon became less of a groan and more wet; like the gnashing of teeth on meat.

Another sickeningly familiar sound now.

After a few more steps Rick stopped again, his feet frozen to the ground as if the dirt below had turned to glue. His hand shook at his side as he stared down at what was making that sound and that bile that rose in the back of his throat burned as it begged for release.

A lone figure, clad in dingy light brown of what looked like local law enforcement attire sat at the base of the fence. Well, sat wasn't really the word. The stomach of the once-man had been spilled completely open, intestines had splattered across what remained of his lap, legs and the ground around him. His head was down, chin to his chest, and the back of his head was blown off splattering the chain link behind him in gore. Around him the ground was littered with the bodies of the undead, each one closer than the next. One Walker laid unmoving on his lap the back of its head blown off and hand still settled inside the stomach, possibly the one that had caused the spilling of the man's insides.

The man's left hand still held to the gun, his apparent only line of defense against the onslaught of Walkers. The blown out back of the man's head the final option after he'd faced what looked to be overwhelming odds.

Rick shook his head, then his entire body and licked at his dry lips working to wake himself out of the living nightmare he seemed to have found himself in. The sound of blood rushing in his head had drowned out the sound of the other Walker now. The one settled at the side of the man. The one lifting handfuls of the man's innards hungrily to its mouth. Feasting on him. Rick blinked back into awareness and his feet began to move, the sound of the crunching of the dead grass below his boots catching the attention of the Walker who had been so intent on his meal he hadn't even noticed the fresh meat standing nearby.

Its dead eyes snapped to Rick, and it staggered unsteadily to its feet. Half-lunging and half running towards him, reaching blood-soaked hands out in growling need. Rick stepped slightly backwards, bracing himself; readying himself for what needed to be done. He dropped his gun, and used his now free hand to ward off the attacking Walker, while at the same time pulling his knife and ramming it roughly into the side of its head. He twisted the blade, grimacing at the feel of the gore now coating his fingers and stepped back as the dead-weight of the Walker fell before him.

Rick slipped to one knee with the body of the Walker and tipped it away from him, his eyes shifting back to the lifeless man at the fence. As his eyes roved the figure again, taking in the blood and gore, the way that the intestines had spilled from his stomach down into his lap, Rick's mind again flashed back to a dark wooded area. The smell of blood and rotted flesh in the air, the slight breeze filtering in through the trees around them and a flashlight illuminating a body hanging from a tree. Gutted and left to swing, dead but undead.

As Rick's eyes took in the figure of the police officer at that fence, they finally landed on the one thing that cemented it for him. The one key piece of visual evidence that he needed to confirm that sinking suspicion, that strange tickling, in the back of his mind. The sight of the officer's right hand half-detached from the bloodied wrist, arm hanging limply at an odd sort of angle above his head where it was still attached to the fence. That gleaming bit of silver that he could see through the blood encircling the wrist shining brightly in the sunlight overhead.

Rick fisted his hand and slammed it over his mouth as the bile at the back of his throat made another push for freedom. His eyes remained locked on that police officer, and the handcuff that had kept him from escaping the Walkers that were coming for him. Rick blinked back the bleariness of his suddenly wet eyes and shook his head lightly, his hand sliding down to rest on his raised knee. A second later he pushed to his feet and worked his way closer to the dead man. As he walked, his foot hit off of something and he again hunched down and put his fingertips to the object.

A hacksaw, rusted and dirty, settled just out of reach of the man handcuffed to the fence. It was the final nail in the coffin and as Rick picked up that saw and stood to his full height his eyes roamed the area anew.

"Merle," Rick seethed in a coarse whisper, as if saying the man's name would magically make him appear. Rick's eyes shifted around the deserted parking lot behind him and the wooded area on the other side of the fence, his hand clenching tight around the handle of that hacksaw as he rounded back to the dead man at the fence.

A single step forward brought Rick close enough to see the gold star of the man's badge, not pinned to his shirt but instead sitting in the pile of intestines on his lap. Placed there as if it were laid reverently upon a pillow for display.

Rick's eyes roamed back up to the lowered head of the man, the exit wound of the bullet that had been his final act horrifying in the bright light of day.

"Hey Rick!" Shane's voice called out, and Rick shook his head at the sound. His eyes remained on the man at the fence for a second more before he heard his partner call out again. "Rick, man. You a'right?"

"Yeah," Rick's voice was a coarse whisper and he cleared it, his head shaking again. "Yeah," Rick said louder this time, his eyes going to the hacksaw he'd been holding. He dropped it suddenly, his hand then running along the thighs of his pants as if he could rub off the horror of what he was looking at. Shane called out again and Rick gave one last shake of his head as he holstered his gun.

He gave one last fleeting look to the fuckin' effigy of himself, and ran the back of his hand over his dry mouth before working his way towards Shane's voice. The idea that he was goin' to have to tell Daryl about it weighing heavily on his shoulders. The thought of what this could do -Rick's head shook and he glared back over his shoulder as he walked.

Shane was staring at him, his foot settled almost mid-step towards Rick before settling back down. Rick saw the sigh of what he hoped was relief filter out of his friend and again he felt his head shaking as he slipped his hand through his hair.

"You good?" Shane asked as Rick made his way past the large bus and to the patch of grass Shane was standing near. Rick nodded and settled his hands at his hips as he looked down at his feet. Shane returned the nod, his eyes watching Rick's movements, skimming his body and makin' his own assessments. After a beat Shane let the matter slip and Rick let out a small sigh as he looked down at what Shane was now pointing to. "Man, take a look at this," Shane muttered and Rick stepped up to look directly at the two bodies lying before them.

The two officers, wearing the same uniforms as the man handcuffed to the fence, were laying side-by-side on the grass. The sun shining down on their grayed out, decaying skin, heating them up to a nice level that had the stench just radiating up at Rick in waves. Rick firmed his lips as Shane slipped down to a knee and prodded the closest body with the barrel of his gun.

"Ain't no bite marks on 'em, man," Shane practically muttered as he again poked at one of the dead man's legs. "What you make of that?"

"Scratched then," Rick said in a tone that he hoped was matter-of-fact enough to fool the man now glancing up at him. He hoped it was matter-of-fact, because all that he could think about in that moment was Callie telling him the same thing about Sophia; sayin' she didn't see any bite marks, no scratches. Callie throwing the insanity of Jenner back in his face, and forcing him to come to terms with yet another thing he didn't have a clue how to handle. Shane's eyes narrowed in the bright overhead sunlight and Rick stepped closer, his own hand flying out to point at the bodies. "The hand on this one," Rick said simply "Maybe leg here," he pointed to the other one flippantly and then shifted back as he watched Shane get to his feet.

"Must be it," Shane said glancing down at the bodies again, the back of his hand ran under his nose and along his lips and Rick firmed his lips as he shifted his eyes around them. Anywhere but on those two bodies at his feet.

"Find anything?" Rick asked, ignoring the feel of Shane's stare on the side of his face and continuing his survey of the area.

"Nothin'," Shane said shifting around a bit. "Bus over there is set up like people were livin' there. Musta left in a hurry. Some good stuff we could round up and take back to camp in there. Car seat," Shane said quietly, and Rick's eyes shifted to him and held for a minute. Rick nodded and Shane returned it before shifting a hand out towards the grass in front of them. "Buncha tire tracks in the grass out there," Shane continued and Rick shifted to look, his eyes narrowing as he did. "Big ass vehicle from the look of it. Maybe more than one," Rick nodded idly, his eyes shifting over towards where he'd found the pile of bodies and the man at the fence. "Somethin' over there?"

"Pile of burnt bodies," Rick said sniffing and settling his hands at his hips again, his eyes angling down to the two bodies at their feet. "They had Walkers here."

"Shit, man. There a place without 'em now?" Shane shot back, raising his brows in sarcastic questioning as Rick shifted his eyes back.

"Let's just get this done. Gather those supplies and drop Randall and get the hell out of here," Rick said as he shifted away. He started walking off towards where they left the car, leaving Shane to stare at his back. Rick felt compelled to turn, but didn't…couldn't. Because if he did, he'd find himself staring into the hole that yet another secret between he and Shane had started to create. Another hole that they were bound to trip and fall into in time.

Rick was walking away. He was walking away from the pleading sound of that kid's voice. The kid that they left still tied up on the ground near that bus. That acrid taste in the back of his throat becoming almost disgustingly unbearable as he yet again swallowed it down. He didn't even need to look beside him to see that Shane was right there, his hard footsteps pounding into the pavement, the force of them reverberating right back up Rick's legs to his wobbling knees.

And the kid's voice kept going.

"C'mon don't be stupid. I owe you guys. I can help you protect what you got," Randall said, his voice echoing in the abandoned parking lot.

Rick's head shook, his lips firmed so tightly that his teeth had actually cut his dry bottom lip open a bit. Rick tasted the tang of that tiny bit of blood and used it to nullify the burn at the back of his throat.

"I'm one guy. One guy can't make it alone. C'mon. I'm not like them. That's why I quit those guys. I was on my own," Randall's voice strained as the distance grew

Rick snarled and shook his head, the words ringing as an obvious lie helped to steel his shoulders against the pull of what was left of his dwindling moral code. Rick shifted his head just enough to see Shane roll his eyes in disgust as he too caught the obvious lie. That boy had been on top of that building. Shooting at them. Trying to get to his friends when he made a piss poor decision and jumped. Did he really think that he would be able to fool either of them into thinkin' differently? Rick's head shook lightly and he continued on.

"Why would you keep me alive just to kill me now?" Randall's voice cracked slightly on the last word and Rick's steps faltered and then stopped.

Rick stared at his shoes, his brow hitching at the strange question. The question that echoed exactly what Rick had been playing around with in his head the whole damn time he'd been drivin' them out there. Thinkin' about what he was really doin'. The truth of it settled hard in his stomach.

He wanted to kill the kid.

Wanted to, but couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger. And truthfully, that's why he was leavin' him there, still tied up with so little a chance of survival. He wanted this kid to die, wanted him to be eaten alive and die screamin'.

For what almost happened at the bar. For what happened to Danny and Callie. For what could happen to the people he needed to protect; the people that depended on him.

For what happened to Callie.

Rick's head snapped up again and he took a firm step forward, feelin' Shane's eyes on him the entire time.

"Man's got a point," Shane said quietly, his voice carrying over the continued droning of Randall's in the background. Rick turned to face Shane with a scowl as his friend lifted a single dark brow at him. Randall continued on as they stared at each other, his voice echoing all the mundane things he had done in his past life. All the normal everyday shit that was supposed to make them feel sorry for him, feel comfortable in letting him go. Letting him join them. As if they didn't realize that all that stuff from before didn't make a difference in hell now. Rick knew that better than anyone as he stared at the man next to him, a man who had changed more than any of them since this whole thing had gone down. "Should just finish it, man-"

"Stop," Rick said gruffly shaking his head clear of his own murderous thoughts. "This is how it's goin'. So just sto-"

"I went to school with Maggie, for Christ's sake," Randall's voice rang out, finally breaking through and getting their attention. "Church. Sunday school-"

Rick's head snapped around to stare at the boy, watching as the kid's eyes got wide as if only now realizing his mistake. Realizing that knowing Maggie wasn't a reason to keep him alive; it was a reason to kill him flat out. The boy began to sputter as Shane stalked towards him, Rick spurred into action by the stiffness riding along Shane's shoulders as he advanced on the now backpedalling Randall.

"You went to school with Maggie? You know Maggie?" Shane shouted as he reached the kid, grabbing him by his collar and yanking him off of his knees. Randall stared into Shane's face as Shane repeated the question shaking him roughly when the boy's mouth just opened and closed in mute answer.

"Answer the question," Rick said forcefully. Randall's eyes shifted away from Shane and to Rick and then back again so fast the kid had to be dizzy from it. "Answer!"

"She didn't know me. She…she….I knew her," Randall's eyes again ping-ponged between the two of them before landing on Rick. "I knew who her daddy was, saw him….at church and school." Randall stopped again as Shane tightened his hold on his collar. His eyes shifted to Shane's and he shook his head before looking down to where Shane's hand was curled into his shirt. "It's a small town, man," Randall's head shook and when he looked back up at Rick he was pleading. "I would never do anything to hurt her. Or her family. Or your people-"

"Jesus," Rick seethed through his clenched teeth, turning away and raking a hand through his hair. Shane tossed Randall back to the ground and spun on his heel as Rick turned back to the boy. Rick stared at Randall as he worked to get to his knees again, the boy's eyes shifting around and again landing directly on Rick. A pitiful look crossing his features, one that he was hoping Rick would fall for. Because apparently the boy had pegged Rick for the sucker here. The one who hadn't had it in him to leave him behind before, was gonna be the one to save his ass again. Rick looked away disgusted-whether with Randall or himself he wasn't quite sure.

"Calm down," Rick said following behind Shane a bit and putting a hand out to catch his shoulder. "Calm-"

"Are you fuckin' kiddin' me?" Shane snapped shifting around and spearing Rick with a glare. He advanced and Rick took a single step back before stopping himself. He wasn't backin' down from Shane anymore. Not anymore. Rick glared as Shane continued in a tone that spit in his face more than the man actually did. "He knows where we are. Exactly where we are camped, Rick. We can't leave him here. It's not an option anymore, man. He knows. What if he finds his way back to his camp?"

Shane didn't even wait for Rick to respond to that, apparently letting his anger again just fuel his actions. Rick reacted the second he saw Shane go for his gun, and used his arm to dislodge the gun as it went off. The gun flew from Shane's hand and the bullet hit the ground to the right of the now scrambling Randall. Shane spun around, and Rick held on tight to him stopping him from advancing any further.

"Not now," Rick said through clenched teeth as Shane fought and broke free of his hold. "Not. Now." Rick said again, his own anger takin' hold and making him advance on his now wide-eyed friend.

"Not now," Shane repeated with a questioning glare, his finger flying out and pointing at Randall who had made it back up onto his knees. "When Rick? Fuckin' when, man? This little shit's already tried to kill you, his buddies have tried to-"

"I said not now," Rick said advancing so that he was an inch away from Shane. His hand lifted and he pressed his finger into Shane's chest pressing back. "Calm down. I need a day. When I've had time to think about it," Rick continued his finger's leaving Shane's chest and raking through his hair. Randall's pleading voice rang out again, beggin' Rick to not let Shane kill him and Rick turned on the boy with a glare. "Shut up!" Rick yelled causing the kid to fall back onto his heels, his eyes bouncing between them again. "We're goin' back. It's a man's life. I need a chance to think clearly. Need to talk to-"

"No. Not for this piece of trash," Shane said pointing his finger and backin' away. "If she'd a wanted to say somethin' special to you 'bout it she woulda done it. Ain't nothin' new gonna come outta takin' this bitch back there and talkin' with her. You can't think to take him back. Back where Lori sleeps. Where Carl sleeps."

"He'll be in the barn," Rick said angrily as he again raked his fingers through his hair. His head was pounding as Shane continued to scoff at him. The sounds around him, the blood rushing around in his head. It was all too distracting. "He'll be in the barn. Unless you bust the door down," Rick growled at Shane.

"Fuckin' ridiculous," Shane muttered as he backed up against a nearby patrol car. "Jesus, Rick. Callie. I-" Shane shook his head and rubbed at his eyes. "Her. At least her, man. I thought you cared about her. And fuckin' Danny."

"I'm takin' the night," Rick said, not willing to play into that same old tune that Shane liked to pull every time Rick made a decision he didn't like. Rick snarled as he looked away to where Randall sat on his knees still staring at them. He snarled because his mind went to where Shane wanted it to. Back to Callie and the way she struggled with having Randall at the farm. The way her and Danny split away from the group, from one another; something he thought he'd never have seen happen to the two survivors.

He thought about her face right before they left, when she handed him a map. When she reminded him that this wasn't about anything but what happened at that bar. What Rick thought had to happen now. The way she'd stared at him when she said she was behind him. No matter what choice he made out there on the road.

"I trust you. I'm with you. Whatever you do."

"I'm takin' the night," Rick heard himself say again. Saying it more to that figment of Callie in his head, the one starin' at him and waitin' for his decision. Sayin' it more to explain himself to her than to the man huffing around behind him. Rick nodded his head as he stared down at his shoes and then lifted his gaze to the pleading eyes of Randall on his knees. The scoffing sound Shane made next had Rick snapping his attention back over his shoulder.

"Yeah man, fine," Shane wiped a hand over his head and snarled at Rick. "You take the night, Rick. You sleep on it. You do what you gotta do to make yourself feel like the better man. You struggle with it, like you always do." Shane shifted off of the car he'd been leaning on and pointed an accusing finger at Rick. "It's always the same with you man. Every damn time," Shane shifted forward some more and Rick turned around to glare at him as he advanced. "Whenever you're put to the test," Shane stopped there and shook his head, and Rick felt his brow rise. Waitin' for the son of a bitch to finish whatever thought had him smirkin' and shakin' his head that way. "It ain't hard, man. The right choice is the one that keeps you alive. Keeps us alive," Shane amended as if hearing the wrongness of that statement echoing back at him. Shane had stopped walking now, and Rick had finished turning back towards him. They stood a foot away from each other, but it felt like more. Felt like an inescapable rift was growing, and all the bridges across it were smoldering in the flames of whatever was going on right now. "It's all about the forced moment now. All about that line, that choice, between livin' and-"

"Stop," Rick said incredulously, his brow furrowing in anger as he shook his head. "Stop. Just stop. Stop actin' like you know the rules to this. There are no rules, man. We are lost."

"No. No," Shane said shakin' his head and Rick again found himself turning his back in frustration on his former partner. "No, Rick. I ain't lost. I know exactly where I am. Where you fuckin' should be."

"It's my call," Rick said ignoring him and keeping his eyes on Randall who was working along on his knees. The boy's movement stopped as Rick glared at him and he again put that 'scared of the world' look in his eyes that had that taste growing in the back of Rick's throat again.

"This ain't the world it was, Rick. I keep askin' myself; how much shit's gotta happen before that gets into your head?" Shane started and Rick felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. "I keep askin' myself how many people gotta die?" Rick turned again and caught his friend's eye. "No man," Shane shook his head and Rick was reminded of the other reason he had to come out with Shane, and only Shane.

Lori's voice, quiet and forceful despite her fear began to echo in his head as if she were again speaking the words into his ear.

"I know you. I know you'd do whatever it takes to keep us safe. Keep what's yours safe. Well, Shane, he's the same way. And he thinks I'm his. Thinks this baby is his. He's dangerous, Rick. The kind of dangerous that's already killed a man and lied about it."

"Definition of fuckin' insanity, doin' the same question over and over and expectin' different results. No. I can't keep on askin', see it's simple." Shane's voice was echoing strangely in Rick's ears now, and as their gazes caught and held Rick knew what was coming. Knew by the look in Shane's eyes that this wasn't about the group anymore. It was about Lori. About Lori and Carl, and the baby. "I ain't lost man. You are. And I don't think you can keep them safe. I know you can't keep them safe."

It happened in a flash, red boiling over Rick's vision as that final straw finally broke his resolve. He'd wanted to keep it about the group, wanted to keep to the plan and just do what had to be done. The trouble was, what had to be done kept changin' on him. Who had to be dealt with. Who had to be feared. It was all jumbled around in his head now, and the final straw was the fact that one of the people he had to deal with, that he had to fear, was the one man he thought he could trust explicitly.

Rick's hand balled into a fist, and flew out faster than he expected catching Shane off guard.

These assholes were nuts.

Randall's eyes widened as the two men that he had been so fuckin' afraid of started layin' into one another. His eyes widened and then rolled just a bit. Shit, this was just like his own camp and those idiots that couldn't decide who was in charge and who was food for the dead.

Randall watched them for another few seconds, the one he thought he could count on to be soft, the one he'd been playin' since they got to the Greene's farm, was hittin' harder and faster than he would have expected. Randall shook his head as the lanky man pounded into the shaved-headed bastard a couple more times, and then he was shuffling forward again. He'd just managed to get to get his good foot under him, when he heard the one man call out. Looking up he watched as a police motorcycle fell on the legs of the lanky man.

The other man's dark eyes rocketed towards him and Randall froze like a fuckin' deer in the headlights.

"Shit," Randall seethed, finally pushing past the painful twinge of the stitches in his other leg. Hands still bound behind his back Randall broke out into a run, his eyes slipping behind him as he did to look at the lanky man still struggling under the weight of the bike. "Fuck! C'mon! Get up, man! Get up! Shit!"

A shot rang out near Randall's head, the sound of the bullet ricocheting off of the metal of the bus behind him spurring him into a run again. His eyes shifted around him as he wove his way through the cars looking for any kind of salvation from the insanity he currently found himself in. His back hit the side of a car, his fingers scrabbling at the handle as he worked to open it. The explicative phrases rollin' off his tongue in rhythm with the erratic beat of his heart. Just as his fingers hooked in and he pulled he spotted the dark-eyed fucker with the gun aimin' at him again with a sadistic but grim look on his face. Again, Randall froze, his eyes closing as he pulled futility at the fuckin' locked door handle.

Randall's eyes opened for a second, watching the man round the back of a car to line up his shot; apparently keen on makin' sure that he didn't miss this time. He stared at the barrel of that gun, knowing that to stare at the man or to even try and reason with him was out of the question. He stared and opened his mouth to try anyway just as the lanky man he'd counted out plowed into his friend. The shot rang out and Randall pulled to the side, his body hitting the ground and face colliding nicely with the pavement, splitting his bottom lip down the center.

"Shit. Shit. Shit," Randall sputtered as he spit out the blood that had settled in his mouth. His eyes slipped up and he caught sight of the two men beatin' the hell out of one another again. Sighing in a split second of relief his eyes rolled away and spotted discarded knife, probably belongin' to one of the two assholes, sitting not far off. Sliding along the ground on his shoulder, because he wasn't fuckin' stupid enough to stand up and give that dark-eyed fucker another glimpse of his ass, he worked his way towards it.

The rough ground rubbed harshly at his shoulder as he moved, and he could feel the flesh under his shirt burning more and more with each movement, but he kept going. If there was one thing he'd learned after all this time runnin' from the fuckin' undead, it was when to make a hasty retreat. A quiet, unseen, hasty fuckin' retreat. That knowledge alone had been his saving grace too many times to count in his life.

Randall slipped a bit past the knife, so that he could grab it with his fingers. Just as he started to cut at the bindings around his wrists he heard it. The distinct sound of a lot of glass breaking. Rolling his eyes again at the antics of the two apparent 'leaders' of that other group, he continued to cut at the ropes. He felt the knife slice into his palm and seethed out a curse that his grammie woulda been washin' his mouth out for usin'.

He did it again and he rolled his eyes heavenward as he bit down on his split bottom lip to keep from screamin' at himself. Then he heard it. Another sound so distinct it had his hands instantly stilling and his blood running cold.

His eyes snapped up at the sound of the shuffling feet and heavy breathing and he let out a shuddering sigh at the sight of the undead bitch makin' her way towards him.

"Oh shit. Shit. Shit," Randall's chanting became more frantic the closer the bitch got to him. His slices into the ropes more haphazard, causing his hands more and more harm. But fuck if he cared. He settled onto his ass and cut at the ropes, his feet propelling him further away from the shambling woman as she reached out in that stilted way these things had about them.

Finally he felt the bindings go slack, just in time for the lame-brain to fall on him in a writhing, hungry, snapping sort of way. Her mouth was an inch away from him when he slammed the knife into the side of her ugly head. He rolled with her, getting on top and gleefully slammed that knife back into her head a couple more times for good measure. His hand was coated with gore now but he didn't give a fuck. Getting shakily to his feet, Randall nodded his head and smiled as he kicked out his foot at the now unmoving figure.

"Bitch," Randall said breathlessly, one last kick slamming into the woman's gooey stomach. Randall's eyes shifted around him, looking at the area in a haze of adrenaline and desperation. He licked at his bloody lip and wiped his gore covered hand down the front of his shirt as his eyes surveyed the area catching sight of a cracked open door to the building not far off. If he could get inside, barricade himself in a room or something until shit calmed down, then he'd be in the clear.

Hopefully the two fuck-ups would get themselves eaten, and he'd be golden. Hide out till the lame-brains moved on, get himself a car, and get back to his people. Then they could figure shit out from there.

Nodding to himself, Randall spared one last kick to the dead bitch at his feet and took off for the door.

Ain't nothin' wrong with this chemistry

Ain't nothin' wrong with this blasphemy

And time tell that there's the pedigree

Experience is another one meant for me

To tell me now (tell me now)

'n show me how (show me how)

To understand (understand)

What makes a good man?

To tell me now (tell me now)

Hey walk the line (walk the line)

Hey understand (understand)

What makes a good man

From me?

~What Makes A Good Man?/ The Heavy

AN: I was thinking that this was going to be one chapter thing…but apparently it didn't work out that way. I'm so sorry…. Did you all catch on to what Rick was thinking about when he showed up at the county building…..If you didn't, I will refer you back to Chapter 4: Simple Man.

I wanted to take a minute to thank all of you that have stuck with me as I push through getting this fic finished. I want to let you know that this will not be the end of the series. I have plans for Season 3. It's already plotted out most of the way…. So keep hope alive (even if it is for fools) and don't worry, these characters will live on as long as there is an audience for them. Shit, I'd probably continue writing them even if all the reviews stopped. I've become invested in them. They are my outlet….my babies.

A bit of review response for the anon(s) that I can't PM:

Anon from the last chapter (chapter 54): Thank you so much! And you're not far off with the description of my babies, my first born Piper has the sweetest little blonde curls while Hannah-girl is still a bit too new and has a lovely wash of dark fuzz baby fine hair. Not sure if she'll go blonde or not but we'll see. As for your favorite line "Can we be wrong now, Andrea?" That was really the line that the whole interaction was written around. (which is the way I usually write scenes…based solely on conversations…whether with another character or an internal dialogue for that character…that's just how I roll) I like to make underlying currents in chapters…It's part of the reason they are so long half the time, because all of the scenes there within have a similar theme or link (Andrea's link to Beth with the suicide attempt and having to deal with what is the right and wrong decision at a time like this… is there one?...that was the big picture for Comfortably Numb and I hope that came across (I'm glad you picked up on that line). Also, Callie's conversation with Carl in Starving in the Belly of a Whale was a stepping stone for that 'right and wrong' discussion and I felt it really is a good lead in for the next couple chapters / end of the fic. Where the decision of 'right and wrong' when protecting those we love is really explored. k. I'm done rambling now.

I'm workin' on pt. 2 now… so I hope this hasn't taken too long. I'm so glad to see there are so many of you still interested in the fic. I'm gonna warn you. Shit's gonna get tough again for our characters so be prepared. If you are interested follow my Tumblr and ask me shit. I'm on there A LOT, and am always open for suggestions for songs/snippets for the characters/ and any TWD conversations you want to have. I do a good bit of analysis for the current episodes too, which work as pre-writing exercises for me.

Much love to you all !