Before the dead rose and began to walk the Earth, Rick Grimes had never considered how dark night truly could be. Even on the blackest night, streetlights gleamed, windows glowed and headlights shone, cutting swaths of light that made the dark seem less oppressive, that spoke of the hope of morning.
Now, sitting in the drivers seat of the RV, parked and silent in a field for the night, Rick stared out into the moonless night. T-Dog and Glenn were on watch, sitting atop the RV and everyone else was packed inside, sleeping off the traumatic events of the day. The women, Lori, Andrea and Carol were sharing the full bed in the tiny bedroom, Carl and Sophia crashed on sleeping bags spread out on the floor. Dale was sleeping on the table that folded down into a narrow cot, Daryl passed out sitting up in a chair. Shane had simply rolled out a sleeping bag on the floor and was currently snoring, the loudest sound in the area by far.
Rick knew he should sleep, knew he could become a liability if he became over tired, but he simply could not get his brain to turn off. The information they'd learned at the CDC, about the disease that had destroyed life as they knew it (not to mention the little knowledge bomb Jenner had dropped just before they evacuated), it all rolled around in his mind, clamoring for attention and gnawing away at him.
The unanswered questions were the worst. What would they do now? Where would they go? How could they keep from losing hope now that they knew there was little chance of ever finding someplace safe, somewhere they could make a new home for themselves, new lives….
That weighed on all of them. Leaving the fiery rubble of the CDC, they had all been more than a little shell shocked and shaky. Gas running low, it had been dumb luck that they stumbled upon a small gas station outside the city that had some fuel left in the underground tanks. Using a length of garden hose and a tire pump, they'd filled their tanks and managed to restock their reserves. There had even been a small cache of canned goods, which were now sitting safely in the campers storage space.
But even that good fortune hadn't been enough to strike the past few days from the forefront of their minds.
Heaving a sigh, Rick wondered when a few cans of food and a full tank of gas became enough to merit being called good fortune. Around the same time everything went nuts, he supposed. During the Zombie Apocalypse that had happened as he slept.
There was a soft creak and a rustle of cloth from the back of the RV. He turned, hand falling to the pistol resting on the dashboard despite the fact that he was fairly sure it was just one of the others. Sure enough, Andrea stepped out of the tiny bedroom, moving nearly silently on bare feet. She nodded to him as she stepped over Shane's inert form, pausing for a moment when he snorted. He didn't wake though, so she continued on her way, settling into the passengers seat across from Rick.
"Trouble sleeping?" he asked her softly so as not to wake anyone. Lori, Carl and Shane, he knew, could sleep through a marching band performance, but he wasn't so sure about the others.
She nodded and joined him in his contemplation of the blackness that engulfed them. They sat there in silence for nearly a half hour, each lost in their own thoughts and appreciative of the others less than chatty nature.
Finally, Andrea asked, "Do you think we're all going to die?…And don't give me any existential crap about we're all going to die."
The corner of his mouth actually quirked up into a small grin at that comment and Rick turned his seat slightly to look at her more squarely. "When I look at all of this, I just…" he paused and took a deep breath. "I will fight death till I can't anymore."
He'd never been good at putting his feelings into words, somehow unable to filter and organize everything in his head into something that anyone else would be able to interpret. Lori called him closed off and uncommunicative, but it was simply a matter of not knowing how to express himself in a way that she understood. Carl seemed to get him and Shane had always appreciated having a silent partner to bounce his own, near constant stream of babble off of.
That thought made him grimace slightly and he was glad the darkness masked his expression from Andrea. Quiet though he was, Rick was not a stupid man. He could put two and two together and get four every time. Jenner's whispered comment had made everything, all of Lori and Shane's weirdness around each other, fall into place.
When they'd thought he was dead, they'd…been together. He didn't know exactly how to categorize whatever had gone on between them, since neither of them had mentioned it, but the fact that Lori was pregnant, over a month along, made at least one part of their relationship pretty damn certain.
"Rick?" Andrea's voice startled him and he realized she had touched his wrist. The hand that was resting on the steering wheel had tightened to the point where the tension in his muscles was causing his forearm to shake. Forcing his hand to relax, he released the wheel and gave the limb a shake. He could see she wanted to ask, but was tactful enough not too. Instead, she changed the subject. "Back there, at the CDC…what Jenner said, about you knowing it was only a matter of time till everyone…was he lying?"
That was something he really didn't want to touch upon, but he knew he couldn't lie about it. "I get morose when I drink," he mumbled and she gave a delicate little snort. Looking at her but not meeting her eyes, he continued, "But yeah, there's a good chance I'll lose them or they'll lose me…again."
Andrea nodded, seeming relieved by his honesty. Slumping back into the seat, she rubbed a hand over her face then looked down as her hands fell to rest in her lap. "Every time I close my eyes I see my sister. I see her lying there and I wish I'd stayed with Jacqui and Jenner. Not saying I'm going to kill myself or anything, but…I don't know how to go on when I failed her like that."
Damn. He wasn't good with this sort of reassuring, emotional stuff. Tossing a hopeful glance backwards, Rick saw that Dale was still sleeping and resigned himself to having to handle things on his own. Hopefully, he wouldn't make her feel worse. But what could he say? If he'd lost Carl and Lori, he might have been sitting in that bunker, waiting for the clock to hit zero with her and Jacqui and Jenner.
"I was nine when my sister died. Leukemia. We all knew she wasn't going to survive," he said haltingly and her head snapped up to stare as he spoke. "She was always so…at peace with it all and I never could understand why, so I asked. She told me that she knew her time was soon to come and that meant she had to have as much positive impact on the world and the people around her while she was still with us. Even if it seemed like a little thing, something that couldn't possibly matter, she thought maybe we're all more important than we know."
Pondering that thought, Andrea said, "I don't know if I can be that strong."
"Says the woman who introduced herself by way of shoving a gun in my face," Rick commented dryly, then pinched the bridge of his nose. It was late and he was exhausted. His still tender side hurt and his eyes burned. "I tell myself it's no choice. This is the life we have to live. Way I see it, this whole thing is like some big, nasty open wound. We have to live to hold on to the hope that somewhere, someone knows how to stop all this craziness so the world can heal. Carl, Sophia…this can't be all they'll ever know."
She stared at him for a moment longer before saying, "Well, no wonder you can't sleep."
He nodded, rotating his chair back towards the window. "Zombie Apocalypse induced insomnia."
"A new diagnosis," Andrea murmured, peering out into the night. "I think it's contagious."
They were still sitting there, awake and watching as the sun began to rise over the horizon, painting the sky orange and illuminating the world once again. Dawn didn't bring with it the sense of hope that it once did, but at least it banished the darkness for another day.
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