Disclaimer: I do not own the Walking Dead or Criminal Minds.
A/N: Thanks for the reviews and your patience; I hope a few of you are still following this. The dark nature of this fic has meant I had to be in a certain headspace to write it. I watched a few old episodes of Criminal Minds on the weekend, and they were really dark as well, so I guess I'm feeling a little inspired to continue without necessarily being in a dark mood myself (which is great for me). I wanted this chapter to focus a little more on the characters rather than the plot, so I won't talk about the case too much with this update; the mood is a little different as well, it's easier to read, I think. Anyways, here goes…
Warning: strong adult content; implied violence against children
"Rick? Are you okay?" Asked Michonne again, a little concerned by his detached appearance and the blank stare he wore. She leaned in closer, her eyes narrowing as he continued to stare off into space.
"Rick?" A little louder this time, which succeeded in dragging Rick Grimes out of his brief stupor, and back to the present where he was sitting at his desk in front of Michonne and Derek Morgan.
"Uh? Sorry, sorry. I was just thinkin' about somethin'; sorry." Came his tired, quiet reply.
Special Agent Morgan looked to a worried Michonne, then back to a distracted and almost sick looking Rick.
"Hey, man, maybe you should get some fresh air. You look a little pale." Said Morgan, taking in Rick's colourless appearance.
"It's okay. I'm okay. Just need a solid 8 hours sleep and to give my kids a hug." He offered, smiling weakly and sounding dejected and deflated.
Michonne looked sadly at her friend and colleague; this case was taking its toll on him and if he was not careful, it could be something that he might not come back from. In her time working for the justice system, Michonne had been a witness to many disturbing cases over the years; although admittedly, nothing as strange and horrific as the one at hand. She had seen numerous law enforcement officials forced to retire early because the stress of the job had been so overwhelming for them; had caused them grief and unnecessary ills. She knew Rick was a decent man, a fair man; a good cop who did his job well. She thought it would be a shame if he were forced to suffer because of the heavy burden that accompanied the duties that he assumed; the responsibility that he held. He was a kind and temperate man and she loathed to see that kindness sullied by such darkness. Michonne realized Rick was a resilient individual, but she also knew that sometimes, even the smallest, most miniscule touch of darkness could cause harm.
"No, Rick, Derek's right; you don't look so good." Michonne said, as she stood from where she was seated. Rick opened his mouth to protest whatever it was that he was certain she was going to suggest he do.
"Save it. I'm not taking no for an answer." She stated firmly and confidently. "Get up, we're goin' outside."
With that, Rick looked at SSA Morgan, who returned his glance with an amused shrug; Rick then shook his head in a manner that was no longer downcast and gave in to Michonne's command.
The bright sunlight was inexorable as it offended Rick's senses when he and Michonne stepped out of the back entrance of the station. He shielded his eyes with his hands, closed them completely and rubbed them vigorously for a moment. When he had become accustomed to the brightness, he glanced over at Michonne. He could tell she was worried about him; he knew how disheveled he looked and he knew she was probably right to be concerned. Rick was not coping well; not coping with the horrific nature of the case; not coping with the long hours and haunted, intermittent sleep; not coping with being away from his family; and not coping with the added strain that the long work hours were putting on his marriage.
The sun was warm and caused Michonne to unbutton the dark coloured jacket she had been wearing and remove it; she wore a sleeveless, white blouse underneath that suited her dark skin tone. Rick discreetly took in her appearance and admired her physique, she, focussing on folding the jacket and placing it neatly over her left forearm, had not noticed his attentions. Michonne took a seat on a bench, crossed her legs and stared at Rick who was leaning against the wall; she did not say anything, she just watched and waited. Rick used the back of his right hand to wipe his mouth then cleared his throat a little.
"God damn it, I felt like I was suffocating in there." He finally offered. "I'm dead on my feet, Michonne. Can't wait for this one to be over. I'm just plain tired."
She nodded, understanding what he was saying; how much it cost him to do what he did.
"I just wanted to thank you." He added.
Michonne's eyes widened, surprise taking hold of her.
"For what?" She asked, truly at a loss as to why he would need or want to offer her thanks.
"For everything. You've been a great support these past few months; it's been nice havin' someone to talk to. And you always ask how I'm holdin' up; you're always worried, and that's a nice thing, to have people 'round who care. Especially doin' this job; sometimes it just gets you down, ya know?"
"Well Rick, you are very important to this community; people care about you, don't you forget it. They see the job you've been doin' and they appreciate it. Appreciate you. Of course I've gotta worry about you, you're my friend." She said, and then added quietly. "I care about you."
They shared a silent, awkward smile just as SSA Morgan peered around the slightly ajar door and said: "Sorry to interrupt; Grimes, you have a visitor."
Michonne stood to go back inside. Rick held the door for her, and followed behind.
Lori Grimes grabbed the piece of paper that was attached to the humming refrigerator in her small kitchen. She had placed Judith in her stroller, fastened the clasp and shoved the crumpled shopping list into her handbag. Before she made her way to the front door, she remembered her intention to give Rick a call at work. She would see if there was anything he wanted while she was at the grocery store; as a way to make amends for their argument at breakfast. To offer an apology for the hurtful things she had said to him. She picked up the sleek, white cordless telephone receiver from where it hung fixed to the wall near the backdoor. She dialled the number to Rick's extension at the Sheriff's Department; she listened impatiently to the dial tone and became slightly annoyed that the call had went to voicemail. She had found it difficult to connect with her husband on many different levels as of late; she sometimes felt as if he were avoiding her, although she reasoned that she could not blame him. She realized that when Rick was around, she always found some way to pick a fight with him. Lori sighed loudly, ended the call, then proceeded to dial the number to Rick's cell phone; she heard it ringing, barely noticeable, in the living room.
Lori, upon entering the living room, found Rick's phone sitting atop the cabinet; it vibrated as the missed call notification came through. She picked it up and decided quickly that she would take it down to him at the station. In that moment, a realization and sense of suspicion encompassed her; she had her husband's phone, she could easily pry in an attempt to discover if he were keeping secrets from her. If he was really working late; if he really was as busy as he had let on. Lori unlocked Rick's phone and scrolled until she came across the text message icon. She stopped and felt a small ounce of guilt overcome her for going through his phone; for not trusting him. As recently as that very morning, Lori had wondered if there was someone else in Rick's life; another woman. Some other woman who had stolen his attentions away from their family and from her. She let out another audible sigh, gave into temptation and clicked on the message icon where, only moments before, her missed call notification had come through.
Lori squinted at the small screen and used her index finger to scroll to the bottom of the message inbox. She found several missed call notifications; a few voicemail messages; texts from Shane, texts from Rick's brother Jeffrey, texts from a few other guys he worked with, Lori herself and Michonne. Michonne. That piqued her interest. She knew who she was, but knew very little about the woman, actually. She knew she was an attorney, had lived in the area for a short while, although she had family members who had lived there much longer. She worked at the courthouse, Lori had seen her at the Sheriff's Department Christmas party, she was unmarried, wore her dresses way too short and way too tight and they sometimes said hello to each other at the grocery store. She knew that the woman sometimes worked with her husband, what she did not know was that they were friendly enough to send each other text messages; and by the looks of the time stamps, at unusual times of the day and night.
Now Lori felt really annoyed as she read their messages to one another. She was becoming agitated; here was this woman telling her husband that she was there for him if he needed to talk, and not just one time either, there were several messages in which she had said it. Here was Rick asking her for advice, for favours, showing her his appreciation and, to Lori's further displeasure, responding to her instantaneously. Rick did not ignore this Michonne the same way that he continually ignored Lori, so she thought; no, he sought her out and made time for her. Lori was livid. She stomped back into the kitchen, placed Rick's phone in her bag, pushed Judith's stroller through the living room and headed outside.
"Hello, Cheryl." Said Lori to the woman in her mid-forties who worked the reception desk at the King County Sheriff's Department. The woman greeted Lori a friendly manner, spoke to Judith in baby-talk and asked the younger woman if she was looking for her husband. Once it was confirmed that she was indeed there to see Rick Grimes, Cheryl proceeded to walk Lori around to his desk where Derek Morgan was sitting and reading through what appeared to be case files. Lori noticed the pile of case files spread wide and stacked high on Rick's desk. There was a coffee mug that was half empty and had long since cooled; the man, obviously FBI, did not look up from what he was doing until Lori brought Judith's stroller to a stop and sat down in her husband's chair.
The corridor was dimly lit, unadorned, narrow and long; as Rick and Michonne walked side-by-side, their shoulders and arms awkwardly came in contact. Michonne discreetly observed his appearance; the fresh air had left him looking better. He seemed less tense and his face relaxed ever so slightly. As they both stepped back into the common staff area, Michonne said quietly:
"You look much better now." As she smiled at him widely, eliciting from Rick a bright smile of his own.
As he tore his gaze away from Michonne, he noticed a stern-faced Lori seated at his desk, barely hiding a scowl.
Great, he thought as he took in his wife's obviously annoyed countenance, now what have I done?
A/N: Sorry this one was short. Next chapter will get back to the mystery of the murdered children, as well as what's happening with the boy who is still missing; but not until someone makes a scene (maybe)! Lol Seriously, my friend who hates Lori said that she actually felt sorry for her for having an absentee husband; she gave me some insights into how a married woman sometimes behaves in that situation, so I have a few options to run with now when elaborating on their 'bad marriage'. In a way, I have based Lori on Hayley (Hotch's wife from Criminal Minds for those who are familiar with the show); married young to a man who is all about the job, and was always about the job. Anyways, thanks for sticking with me if you've made it this far!