Hershel woke him up in the morning. The old man hadn't meant to, but he needed to change Andrea's dressings. Rick woke with a deep sigh, looking around quickly to locate himself. It took him a while, but the sight of Andrea still in that bed made the reality of the previous day smack him over the head.
"You should get some sleep, Rick. Go stay with Carl. I can take care of her," Hershel told him.
"No," Rick said. His voice was raspy and he cleared his throat. "I'm fine."
Hershel didn't push it. He hadn't known Rick for long, but he knew him well enough. Suddenly remembered when Carl had been shot. Rick kept donating blood until it nearly killed him, so Hershel wasn't surprised by his devotion to Andrea.
Rick felt too much, took everything into his heart first. It was a curse and a blessing, Hershel thought. Rick's empathy made him a good leader, a sensible man that no member of the group feared. But a curse because everything they felt, Rick felt it tenfold, and it wasn't good for his mental state. Andrea felt too much, too, and Hershel didn't have to be a mathematician to add that up and come to the conclusion that these two would be devoted to each other too much and forever. It would save them, but would eventually kill them, too.
He did what he had to do without arguing.
"No fever," Hershel said and Rick let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.
"Why isn't she waking?"
"Blood loss, probably," Hershel told him. "Her body can make up for the loss, she just needs time. I just worry about dehydration. I don't have an IV."
Rick looked at the old man. "Can't we just..."
"Force her?" Hershel said. "I don't know. I've never done that, she might choke. I'm not a doctor, Rick. But she's okay for now. Let's just wait and see."
'Wait and see'.
Rick hated that phrase. He'd heard it so many times when he was a cop. He'd had to escort so many people to the hospital. And it was always those words. Doctors loved saying that. 'Let's just wait and see', so easily like they were saying, 'let's go bowling!'
Fuck wait and see. He needed to know now.
But Hershel didn't have an answer for him. All day he kept coming back into the room to check on Andrea, always with the same tired news, "no fever."
Rick sat there and waited. Carol brought him breakfast and the plate sat on the night table, untouched. She took it back and then brought him lunch. The plate sat there, untouched. She took it back and brought him dinner, and when the plate sat there and she came back she didn't take no for an answer. She sat right there and threatened to stay until he ate all of it.
Rick took a bite to please her, but his stomach was so unsettled he couldn't eat more. Andrea's blood... he could still smell it all over him and it was nauseating. That first and only bite made him want to throw up. He handed her that plate back and she tried to lay down the Mother Law, but he couldn't abide by it.
So she left him alone. Other people showed up. Daryl was the first one, though Rick never felt him there. Daryl had been up with the sun and the first thing he did was check on Andrea. He found Rick sleeping on that chair and Andrea still in bed, pale and delicate like porcelain. He gave Andrea's hand a squeeze before he left, vowing to catch as many animals as he could because she would need to eat a lot to get her strength back.
Glenn and Maggie finally returned from town with a box full of bottles of random medication, most of it useless, but some of it would help Andrea with the pain. Together with T-Dog they came by later, and they sat there telling stories about Andrea and laughing. Rick smiled several times, remembering some of the moments they were talking about, like that one time Andrea screamed loudly and began to run for miles and miles. They'd all chased after her, so worried, and it turned out she had only been running from a bee.
He left the room around noon to check on the activity outside. T-Dog, Daryl, and Glenn were reinforcing the fences. The women were doing their thing. He looked for something to do, something to help with, some kind of distraction, but they had nothing for him and that left him walking back into Hershel's room to re-occupy his spot.
Carl came by later, looking at his father with hope in his eyes. "Dad, Andrea's not gonna die."
Rick looked at his son questioningly.
Carl looked at him with a duh! written all over his face. "I asked Daryl, dad. He said she's kick ass and that kick ass people don't die of bullet wounds. I mean, you got shot and you didn't die. And I got shot and I didn't die, either. So she won't die."
Rick chuckled and shook his head. His child's logic made too much sense, but in the end it was only child logic. Reality had no patience for it.
Daryl came back an hour later, carrying one of the recliners from the living room and placing it next to the bed. "Here ya go, chief. Might as well make your ass comfortable," he said as he patted the seat.
When he fell on that chair he thanked God for Daryl Dixon. He reclined the chair back and lay next to her, waiting, catching naps here and there, pacing the hallway outside when his legs fell asleep. Truthfully he was wrecked with regret and guilt. Guilt because after the farm he'd made a vow to protect her and he'd failed. Regret because he'd been such a coward. That first night after Lori, he lay there thinking about the conversation they'd had in the woods. Andrea had all but confirmed she felt the same way, but even after putting his ring away he found he couldn't bring himself to make a move. Too scared to.
And now it could be too late. Every time his watch marked a new minute and she didn't come back was another reminder that she was dying. How could he leave her side? If he lost her he knew it needed to be him. It had to be him to put a bullet to her head to make sure she rested peacefully and didn't become a monster.
The shocker came later when Lori showed up, leaning by the door and looking inside with an expression on her face he couldn't read. Funny how quickly they became strangers.
"How is she?"
Rick sighed. Everyone kept asking him that question like he knew the answer. "We won't know until she wakes up," he echoed Hershel's words and added, "if she wakes up."
Lori nodded, taking in the worry lines on his face, the bags under his eyes, his tense shoulders... all there for the woman who lay in that bed. In a weird way, she was glad. Relieved, even. Felt the guilt dissolve a little bit, breathing easier for the first time since that night she told him they were done. She'd been scared he would get lost, break beyond repair. But he didn't, and Lori knew it was because of her. She wasn't Andrea's biggest fan, but, well, it was his life and she no longer had a right to question his choices.
"She'll wake up," she told him confidently, though there was no way she could've known. But hey, they'd been in love once upon a time and she owed him the words of comfort. She even went beyond that and added, "Rick, I'm O neg, remember?"
He sighed, smiling at her words. "Hershel doesn't have the right equipment, anyway." Frankly, even if Hershel did he didn't know how he'd feel about that. His ex-wife giving parts of her away to his... Fuck, he didn't even know what Andrea was to him. Not a friend, but not yet a lover. Something in between.
Lori nodded, staring at him and taking him in. This was one of the reasons why they'd never been able to work. Rick was just too emotional. He felt too much. The others were out there, going on about their lives. They all loved Andrea, sure, but they were all so used to losing people. Most of the others were already counting on the loss, including Lori herself, but he there for hours, torturing himself. Even now she wanted to go in there and shake him and slap him over the face.
She shook her head disapprovingly at the sight. "You need to be stronger than this, Rick."
He didn't reply, just looked at Andrea and pressed his fingers to his eyes. He'd heard those words from her before, too many times. Heard them when his father got sick. Heard them every time he'd lose a colleague. Heard them that night when she lost their baby. Maybe not his baby. Shane's baby. It didn't matter. He heard those words all the time and when he forgot them, she always reminded him like she did now. He knew she was right, too, but he just couldn't please her. She wanted him to be someone he couldn't be. He just couldn't be Shane.
Lori didn't wait for a reply, just turned around and walked away, and in a way felt like she was walking away from him forever and giving him to someone else.
Night fell again and Andrea still didn't move. Rick expressed his concern to Hershel but Hershel gave him the same answer. "She lost a lot of blood but she's still here, Rick. Let's just wait and see."
Anger finally took over and he took it out on Hershel. He didn't mean to, but seeing her there so pale, feeling so useless, not being able to do something, never getting any answers... it was too fucking ridiculous.
"Rick," Hershel told him calmly as Rick breathed hard and looked like he was about to punch a wall. "You're gonna get yourself sick if you keep doing this. Go eat something, go for a walk, get some sleep. You think she'd like to see you like this?"
Rick gave no reply, didn't give a shit about food or sleep or going for a walk. He just needed an answer, for someone to fucking tell him, either she's gonna make it or not. He wasn't going to move from that chair until he knew for sure and after several attempts Hershel finally gave up.
After the anger dissipated, he drifted in and out of sleep for hours, thankful for the comfortable recliner Daryl had brought him. He was deep in sleep when he felt some movement. His body shot up immediately and Andrea's eyes were still closed, but she was squeezing his hand and Rick quickly thanked the God he'd stopped believing in.
"Andrea," he whispered and she frowned, moaning softly. He closed his eyes and thanked the heavens again. "Shh, don't move, okay?"
It took her a while to open her eyes, and when she did they were as pale as her skin. She looked around, confused, and Rick suddenly didn't know what to tell her. He didn't wanna scare her, but he didn't want her asking questions and spending all her energy away. And he was so overwhelmed by the moment words wouldn't leave his mouth, anyway.
Her eyes finally landed on him and he smiled reassuringly at her. "Hey, there."
"Rick?"
"Yeah," he said with a chuckle but he couldn't help it. For a while there he didn't think he would ever hear that voice again.
Andrea frowned and closed her eyes. "You look like shit."
He couldn't help laughing and kissing her hand. It wasn't until that moment, until he felt that relief flood through him, that he realized how deep his feelings were. He'd made light of them, truthfully hadn't really seen it, too blinded by all his responsibilities as leader, too distracted by all his problems with Lori.
But he saw it now, clearly. Felt it, the way his heart was jumping up and down in his chest. It was unmistakable. All those hours they'd spent together out there, scouting, exploring, fighting, making each other laugh, running from danger, saving each other's lives over and over again. She kept him from falling apart so many times that he knew this had to be it.
After a few seconds, as she came out of the grogginess a bit more, she felt the pain and moaned. "I'll get Hershel."
"No," she reacted quickly. "Stay."
He felt helpless again, watching her struggle to deal with the pain. He wanted nothing more than to take it from her, bear it himself. He suddenly remembered the stacks of bottles Glenn and Maggie had brought back with them, and he found some ibuprofen and fetched for her a glass of water.
"Easy," he said as she tried to drink, water dripping down to her neck, but he didn't want to move her, fearing he'd make her injury worse.
He wiped the water from her cheeks and neck. As he did her eyes closed and Rick thought she'd fallen asleep again but her eyes opened once more and she gave him a small smile. It made his heart beat fast and he put his hand over her cheek. She reached for it, her fingers finding his ring finger again feeling there. It was still bare.
"What happened?" Andrea questioned him as she looked at his face. He really looked like shit.
He shrugged his shoulders. "What was going to happen before."
"How?"
"Doesn't matter now," he told her. "You're tired. Go to sleep. I'll stay here, okay?"
She shook her head. "You need to get some sleep."
"I'll sleep right here."
"No, Rick," she told him. The drugs were starting to take their effect and she was still suffering from the effects of the blood loss. Her eyes opened and closed slowly and he knew that even though she was awake, she wasn't really awake. "Go to bed."
He gave her a stern look despite himself. "Andrea, there's no way I'm leaving you here alone, no way. That's not an option. I'm only giving you a choice, either I stay or Carol does. That's it."
She closed her eyes and sighed, and the action made her feel the pain again and she frowned at it, also frowned at him. He knew she was annoyed, angry, even, but leaving her there alone? That was never going to happen.
Finally, she opened her eyes and looked at him. "Carol."
Rick nodded, feeling a dull pain at the rejection but he knew why she was doing that. She was making sure he got some sleep. She was there shot, in pain, drugged, and half dead, but she was still trying to take care of him.
He couldn't help it. So what if he felt too much? Screw it. He felt too much for her, for Carl, for the group and he didn't care. He framed her face with both hands, remembering those terrifying minutes she lay on the ground bleeding to death, and he pressed his nose to hers.
But when his mouth was an inch away from hers she flinched away. "Rick, no."
He stopped, looking into her eyes questioningly.
"I won't remember it," Andrea told him and he knew only the drugs and the blood loss were talking, but she still managed to give him a cheeky smile. "I wanna remember it."
He smiled at her reasoning and mentally agreed. He wanted her to remember it, too. He kissed her forehead instead. "Okay."
"Okay," she whispered and drifted away.
TBC
