Disclaimer: I do not own the Walking Dead or Criminal Minds.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, they are always appreciated. This instalment is very much focussed on Rick and his turmoil at failing to save the children; his strained relationship with Lori; as well as dealing with his not-so-honourable attraction toward his friend and colleague, Michonne.

Warning: strong adult content; implied violence against children

Rick Grimes sat on a felled tree stump in the backyard of the small, dilapidated house. Darkness surrounded him, save for the flashing lights of the official looking law enforcement vehicles. There were officers, agents, medical examiners and crime scene technicians everywhere; their voices sounded muffled as the pounding in Rick's head became louder. A deep sadness had overcome him as he watched them bring the small bodies out of the house, one-by-one, and placed them in the Coroner's van. Rick pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, pursed his lips and waited. They were around the same age as his young son, Carl; he knew one of them went to school with Carl. He felt a wave of despair crashing over him as he thought of the sorrow that their parents would have been going through; the uncertainty of not knowing where your child was, if they were dead or alive. And now, this horrible discovery. He could not even begin to conceive what it would be like to be given that knock on the door.

In all of his time as a police officer, Rick Grimes had never come across the body of a murdered child; let alone three bodies. He was still in shock and waiting for someone from the FBI to come and debrief him. He glanced around the crime scene; people everywhere, all of them appeared to be moving slower than they really were. A figure began to approach him; the throbbing in his temple caused him to squint as he tried to discern who it was. Shane.

"Hey, man, how you holdin' up?" Asked Rick's partner, in a concerned manner.

"Been better, I can tell ya that much. You?" Was Rick's reply. Shane squatted down next to him and absentmindedly tugged at the overgrown blades of grass.

"I hear ya. I'm okay, I guess. Just not used to this. You feelin' up to informing the parents? The feds said they could do it, but you been on the case longest, thought it best to ask you first."

Rick nodded to his friend.

"Yeah, I'm just waitin' to talk to Hotchner about our debriefing. Shouldn't be too much longer now." He said quietly as he scanned the surrounds looking for the agent who would talk them through what needed doing since they had made the grisly discovery. A man with dark hair and a nice suit approached the two Deputies, a stern look on his face. He dipped his head to them in greeting.

"Officer Grimes, Officer Walsh. Thank you for waiting. I know it's been a long night and this discovery hasn't been easy to stomach, but I need just a few more minutes of your time, if that's okay?" Hotch asked respectfully. The men nodded and continued to listen to the Agent.

"I understand you wanted to inform the parents personally?" He asked, looking from Rick to Shane.

Rick exhaled loudly, furrowing his brow. "Yes sir, I know a couple of the parents. It's best that we go and see 'em, I think."

Hotch nodded in understanding and agreement.

"Did you need to speak to me and my partner afterwards?" Rick continued, looking tired.

"It's pretty late now. I'm sending my agents back to the motel to get some rest, after you inform the parents, I advise you both do the same. We're going to look through the house tomorrow after the CSU is done. The Medical Examiner will inspect the bodies tonight, so we should have the ME's report by late morning. We can debrief first thing. I want to have SSA Morgan do a cognitive interview with you both, if that's alright?" Hotch asked, half expecting them to ask what the interview actually entailed. He did not imagine they would have undertaken many, if any at all any in their professional lives.

"What do we have to do?" Asked Shane.

"It's simple," began Hotch. "You both recall what you remember about approaching the crime scene independently."

"To see if our stories match or somethin'?" Shane interrupted

"No." Was Hotch's answer. "It's more to run through everything, even the smallest thing you remember or noticed; this is to help us to build a more comprehensive picture of the scene, other than the photographs that CSU give us. We'll ask you to try to remember smells, objects, anything that may seem trivial. It all helps."

The Deputies both nodded. They were not always too sure of the methods that the BAU used, but they were willing to do whatever they could to catch the killer and ensure that the fourth child, Duane, was brought home safely.

Rick Grimes dropped his partner Shane back at the Sheriff's Department. They were both taking separate vehicles to the homes of the victims' families to deliver the bad news. This was one of the worst aspects of the job for Rick; having to tell a family that their loved one had died, which was made worse by the fact that the victims seem to have been murdered. While he appreciated that the FBI were trying to help, to lighten the load to some degree, he knew that he and his partner would have to deliver the dreadful news. They lived in this community; it was their job to protect the people here. Rick felt as if they had failed tonight. They had failed their community, the victims' families, and above all, the victims themselves. Those three little souls whose lives were cut short before they even had a chance to really live; the three children lying on the cold hard slabs on this night.

Rick brought the car to a stop, breathed in and out deeply and rubbed his hands over his weary eyes. He glanced over to the charming white two-storey house that belonged to the Staker family. Their son TJ was the first child to be abducted from his school and was in the same grade as Carl. Rick used to see Greg Staker, TJ's father at the junior baseball league games sometimes at the weekends, when he had the time to go; they used to speak amiably in the queue at the bank on occasion; and lately he was at the Sheriff's Department every other day since his child went missing. Rick would often sit with him briefly, offer him coffee and listen to him painfully try to make sense of everything that had happened. His marriage had ended badly, he told Rick. He and his wife Janice had not been able to deal with their son's disappearance; each blaming one another for him going missing and it tore their family apart. She had been staying with her parents and he remained at the family home, holding out hope that TJ would just walk through the door one day. That it had all just been one big joke; that TJ was hiding in his room like he used to when his parents would argue.

Rick's steps sounded too loud as he walked up the path toward the Staker's home; he felt like the sound was announcing his arrival and was intruding on the calmness and quiet of the evening. He tried to tread lightly as he stepped onto the porch and moved to the front door. Rick closed his eyes, tilted his head back and wiped the quickly accumulating sweat from his brow. He swallowed hard as he pressed a trembling finger to the doorbell. It cut through the silence of the night as loudly as the ringing in Rick's ears was.

It was 2 o'clock in the morning when he finally made it home. Rick fumbled with his front door keys as he stood in the darkness outside of his house. He noticed that Lori had not left he porch light on for him. She probably had not expected him back so late, he thought, a little disappointed that he was coming home without having a single member of his family awake to greet him yet again. He resigned himself to the fact that it was his fault; he worked too much, too hard and never made time for them. His daughter barely knew him, his son was forever annoyed with him and his wife resented him. But at least he had a family to come home to; children to come home to. Some people, he thought sadly, were not so lucky.

Rick stepped into the darkened hallway before turning on a light; he was immediately reminded of what he and Shane had witnessed when that light had been switched on at the house down Cedar Rd. He shuddered slightly at the thought of their little lifeless bodies lined up on the floor. He extinguished the hallway light and opted for the warm, dim lighting of the lamp that sat on the cabinet in the living room. Rick tossed his hat onto the armchair and kicked off his boots. He removed his belt, holster and side arm and placed them in a draw of the cabinet. Undid the buttons on his shirt, removed it and let it fall to the floor before collapsing to the couch. He closed his eyes, hoping that he would immediately drift off into a deep sleep; he felt tired enough. Yet that was not to be the case; images of the three dead boys invaded his mind. Rick opened his eyes quickly and cursed under his breath. He sat up, ran his fingers through his hair then stood and made his way toward the kitchen. He found the bottle of whiskey that he had been nursing for the better part of a month tucked behind a box of Corn Flakes in one of the top cupboards. Rick poured a generous amount into a coffee mug that had "World's Greatest Dad" written on it in bright red letters. He let the harsh liquid course down his throat as he swallowed it in one swift motion. He returned the bottle back to its place, and ambled slowly back into the living room; turning off the lamp before sliding listlessly on to the couch.

When Rick Grimes finally fell asleep, he was tormented by vivid dreams: he was running, his bare feet hitting the ground hard and his legs aching; his breath short and his heart beating rapidly. He was struggling to move faster, a strong, unseen force pressing against his body so potently that he knew if he tried to lean forward, it would keep him standing upright, torpid, inert. It was dark and cold and he recognized a house with a small glow escaping from the windows. He ran to the front door and it swung open as if to welcome him inside. He froze when he saw the three bodies lying on the floor in a line, covered by a single white sheet. He trembled as he walked closer to where they were laid out. His hand shook as he reached for and took hold of the corner of the sheet. Slowly, he drew the sheet away from the secrets it was hiding; what was revealed to him made him fall backwards in shock. There were no longer three bodies under the sheet, just the one. When he saw the child's face, it resembled that of his own young son, Carl.

Rick awoke from his nightmare with a start; eyes wide, gasping for air and drenched in sweat. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to regain some composure. His mouth felt dry and his heart was racing a little too quickly. He was still tired, his body was ever so tired; but he now felt wide awake, unsure of if he even wanted to fall back into sleep so that he could be haunted by horrific visions again. Rick lay in the dimly lit room for a moment as he steadied his heart rate and breathing. He tried to calm and clear his mind as he focussed on inhaling and exhaling slowly and deeply. Almost ten minutes had passed when he reached into the darkness to the side table near his head. He was searching for his cell phone that he had previously placed there, without looking at it, to check the time; it was 4:30am. He sighed, feeling somewhat irritable and emotionally drained. He then noticed that he had 2 unread text messages. The first was a missed call notification from home logged at 6:47pm; the second was from Michonne and was sent at 10:15pm. Rick felt his heart beat speed up again, and a flurry of what he could only liken to excitement rise from his stomach when he saw her name appear on his screen as he squinted to focus his eyes: Hey Rick, pls let me know if you find anything tonite. Take care. Thanks, M. J

A smile.

Rick found himself reading the message more than once and staring at her name. He liked the way her name looked, how it sounded and how it felt when he said it out loud: Michonne. A sigh escaped his mouth once more as a feeling of guilt crept over him. He was doing it again, giving in to the attraction that he knew he felt towards her; the attraction that he tried so very hard to deny, to push to the back of his mind. It was easy to see why he was enticed by Michonne; she was strong, exotic, intelligent, witty and mysterious. He also did not miss the fact that she was very beautiful and had an amazing physique. Her body was wonderful, he thought; Rick sometimes let his eyes roam over her luscious curves when he thought no one was looking. He could not help it, even though he felt bad for coveting his friend like that, felt badly for looking at a woman other than his wife, he still, from time to time, indulged himself. Presently, he shook his head, as if trying to shake the thought of Michonne wearing the most excruciatingly delicious formfitting dress from his mind's eye. He really needed to snap out of it; his attentions needed to be focussed on his family and his work.

Rick opened her text message again, ready to send a reply. He wanted to say something like, please don't send me anymore messages, especially at night, it's distracting and I can't stop smiling like a fool and I shouldn't be thinking about you this way when my wife is upstairs sleeping by herself; or can you please do your job and I'll do mine and, even though you work at the Courthouse which is next door to where I work and I see you nearly every day, can you please not come around so much and also please don't smile at me that way that you do because it makes me feel weak.

He began to type a response to her message into his phone: Sorry for late reply. Long night. Bad news. Drop by office tomorrow & I'll fill you in.

Lori Grimes awoke to an empty bed, she knew where her husband would be; sleeping on the couch. Recently, when he had worked late, he had become accustomed to taking up the couch for the night. In the beginning, she did not really know why, and when she asked Rick about it, he simply said that he didn't want to wake her when he came in at some ungodly hour. He was always honest and straightforward, she could see no cause to doubt his reason; she knew him to be a considerate and caring man. Still, she found it annoying that he would prefer to sleep alone after a rough night, than with her in their bed. She had wondered briefly if her husband was having an affair; the long hours coupled with the distance between them made her think that it could have been a possibility. She had not gotten around to making an accusation against him; their marriage was already rocky at the present time, and she thought it best not to blatantly accuse him of cheating.

It was quiet at their breakfast table that morning. Judith sat in her highchair eating pieces of toast that Rick had cut into tiny squares for her. He hastily drank his coffee, even though it was still quite hot, burning and numbing the inside of his mouth simultaneously. He looked somewhat dishevelled and tired in his work uniform. He sat quietly watching his daughter eat and make baby talk.

"What time did you get in?" Asked Lori flatly, she had wanted to ask him as soon as he walked into the kitchen, but let him get settled first.

Rick trained his gaze on her, screwed his face up a little, and rubbed his red eyes.

"I dunno. Maybe about 2 o'clock. Was a long, bad night." He said, staring off into space, an aloof expression covering him.

"Can't you cut back now that the FBI is involved?" She asked; he was a little taken aback that she did not ask him what had made his night a bad one. "We've hardly seen you these past few months."

Rick frowned, he knew where this was going; an argument about his long hours and how he neglects his family.

"It just ain't a good time…" He started.

"It's never a good time, Rick!" She exclaimed. He could hear the irritated tone of her voice.

"Sometimes I wonder if you even care about us at all!" She spat, Rick looked up in disbelief at her cruel words just in time to see Carl standing in the doorway. He had heard their exchange and hastily retreated back up to his bedroom.

"Those kids, the ones who went missin', we found three of 'em last night. Me and Shane, walked right up to this house and there they were and…"

"That's great!" She said sarcastically. "It means you can spend more time with us, doesn't it? You know, worry about your own kids for once." She said, staring him down.

Rick sighed, rolled his eyes and stood, ready to depart, almost too tired to argue, but then he stopped and addressed his wife.

"Lori, you gotta let me finish. Those kids, we found 'em alright, but we were too late. They were dead. I had to go and tell 2 families last night that we'd found their little boys dead. Can you imagine what that's like? What it was like for them last night? The past few months? You sit here all high and mighty and scream at me and accuse me of not carin'. I do what I do to keep y'all safe, to keep this community safe. I won't apologize for that. I am sorry that it's taken me away from you and the kids, I really am, but don't ever try to make me feel bad about trying to make this place safe."

With that, Rick kissed Judith on the top of her head and walked away.

Rick stepped into the Sheriff's Department to find that the BAU team was already there, set up in the conference room. Hotchner and the other Agents greeted Rick as he observed Dr Reid writing something in large, messy handwriting onto the whiteboard.

"What's this?" Rick asked SSA Morgan, gesturing to the writing that Reid had just finished.

"CSU found it scrawled on the walls of the Cedar Rd house last night. Was freshly done, so was most likely the unsub."

Rick read it carefully then furrowed his brow as he contemplated what it could have meant.

Genesis 18:19 For I have chosen him, that he may command his children and his household after him to keep the way of the Lord by doing righteousness and justice…

A/N: I initially started to write this for my pregnant friend who is on bed rest and bored out of her brain. She said to share it, and I'm glad I did as it was well received. Thank you all for the positive feedback, I really wasn't too sure about doing a crossover because I appreciate both series in their own right. The characters are just too good and can expand the dialogue and storyline. Having said that, I do want to focus more on TWD characters and their interactions. Also, I think to make a story good you have to not only explore the characters, but have a solid plotline, which I hope I can further develop here. I started reading crime novels when I was 11 years old, so the genre has always been dear to me (although this is my first time writing any). Thanks for reading and reviewing.