Author's Note:

Hey guys, here's another chapter, and Rick is in it. :3 I felt empty typing without him. Lol Make sure you guys tell me if he's out of character at any point throughout the story, I'm going to try my best to portray him realistically.

So I was also looking at the supposed time-line of the outbreak, time on the farm, when Rick woke up from his coma, etc. on Wikipedia. And some of it just doesn't sit right with me. It basically says that Rick survived 46 days on his own without the life support machine or any sort of sustenance, which isn't possible. Another thing, I figured it would have taken more than 15 days for Carl to heal from his gunshot wound to the chest, let alone to be up and walking around without a problem. For that reason, I'm changing the time-line in my story to where it's been about a month and a half since the outbreak and they stay on the farm a few weeks longer. Leda stumbles onto the farm about 3 days after Carl is shot and before Daryl finds Sophia's doll. Nothing's happened yet besides that. Just to clarify. :)

Enjoi!

She didn't think death would be so soft. Maybe she was in heaven, laying on a cloud. A very clean, crisp, white cloud.

Even if that were the case, it'd be too cliché.

She smiled to herself. Unbearably comfortable, she tried to snuggle deeper within the fluffy depths when she was met with an unpleasant sensation.

Ouch.

There was a nagging ache in her shoulder, but not nearly as bad as it had been before she died. Almost all at once, her thoughts were flooded with memories of what she had surmised as her final breath. The mob, the field, the people running toward her.

Her jade eyes flew open, head swiveling around in panic. She was in a bright, neatly kept bedroom, with large windows looking out onto the fields of a farm. Her body's first instinct executed itself and she sat up. Gritting her teeth and moaning softly, her hand flew to her injured shoulder. Somehow, there was a layer of gauze around it and medical tape holding it firmly in place, leading her to believe that it had already been cleaned and the bullet removed.

What the fuck. These are some strange people.

She was at a loss with why they hadn't just shot her in the head like another Steve and cut their losses. She was of no use to them, of no importance. Not one of them. Just another threat.

Maybe they're even sicker than I thought and they were waiting to kill me until I woke up. Great.

There was no other choice on her plate but to leave, just to sneak out without them knowing and give them an empty bed to discover. An unsteady hand ripped the layer of covers from her body and her legs swung over the side of the bed. As soon as she was on her feet, the blood rushed to her head and room tilted. Before she could control her body, or even think about controlling it, the wall rushed up to her right side and crushed her bandaged shoulder.

She screamed and crumpled to the floor. There was nothing but the pain, and her plan of escape was thrown to the back of her mind. The door flew open and she wasn't the least bit surprised when a man with a gun pointing a gun ran in, shouting at the top of his lungs for someone named Hershel.

Before she knew it, there was an elderly man helping her back into her bed, and against her better judgement she allowed him to. He didn't look too happy.

"You need to rest, you can't be out of bed this soon after you've been shot," he said, gently scolding her.

She only responded with a confused, furrowed brow at his grandfatherly nature. Pulling out a stool she hadn't noticed before that had been sitting by the bed side, he turned around and spoke to the Asian guy behind him.

"Glenn, go and get Rick. Tell him that she's awake."

"You gonna be okay?" the guy named Glenn replied, looking suspiciously between her and him. Apparently the old man didn't perceive her as a threat and he impatiently nodded. After Glenn left, he started to check her bandages to make sure that they were still in place. Maybe these survivors didn't want to fuck with her after all, she thought. Maybe they were just good people and that was it. Her mind just couldn't come up with another explanation for it.

"Where am I?" Leda wearily asked him, craning her head to take another look around the room.

"You're on my farm. My name is Hershel Greene. You'll be safe here until this heals," gesturing to her shoulder. "Then I'll expect you to be on your way." She blinked and nodded in acknowledgment. He handed her some pills and a glass of water. Antibiotics she guessed.

Shit. They're wasting their medicine on me. And I already owe them my life.

She felt extremely awkward at receiving care from someone else and found herself briefly wondering why exactly they were giving her all this treatment when they new absolutely nothing about her. She was a stranger, an outsider and obviously viewed her as a potential threat. There wouldn't be a guard posted outside her door otherwise.

The old man had kind eyes, and she could tell he had a big heart, but he looked troubled. Or irritated. One of those. The funny thing was that she already trusted him, despite her complete knowledge of people nowadays.

"Thank you," she said, reluctantly downing the tablets.

He smiled weakly as he said "I'm not the only one you have to thank."

As he said those words, she could hear the hurried clunk of boots on hardwood floor coming down the hall. Two new men entered, along with the one named Glenn, who was still carrying his gun. One of the men's head was shaven and the second one...she couldn't be sure, but he looked so familiar. She couldn't quite put her finger on it and it aggravated her to no end.

Those blue eyes...I swear I've seen them before...

"Why the hell did you lead a bunch of walkers here!?" the other man demanded roughly in a thick southern accent.

"Shane, I said I'd handle this," the other one with the gun holster around his hip said firmly, giving him a look that clearly said "shut the fuck up."

She noticed Shane clench his jaw tightly and continue to glare at her with hostility. His eyes were dark and filled with contempt. She guess that the man with the blue eyes, who was clearly calling the shots, probably had leadership problems with him from time to time. Remembering Hershel's earlier words, she concluded that this man must be Rick.

Rick. That name sounds like I've heard it before from somewhere too. Weird.

He turned his piercing eyes back to her. His hand was hovering over the pistol on his side, just in case she was dumb enough to try anything she guessed.

Not that that's likely to happen since I can't even stand up properly.

She stared at them through wide, now aware eyes. The pain had started to fade away, thankfully, and now she could find out what the hell it was that they wanted with a clear mind.

"I apologize for my friend's behavior. Although he does have a point. We almost couldn't handle all of them." She didn't say anything. He paused and then sighed thoughtfully. "What's your name?"

Again, she didn't answer and just looked out the window defiantly. Finally, she spoke.

"Just give me my things and I'll be on my way."

"Now we both know that isn't an option," Hershel said gently, leaning back in his chair with his hands on his knees. "You've just been shot and need more time to recover."

"She ain't gonna get no time to recover if she don't start talkin'," Shane huffed.

Rick sighed and pressed his wrist across his forehead in exhaustion.

"Look, we just need to know where all those walkers came from so that we won't be caught off guard again," he said, trying to catching her stubborn gaze.

She turned her head back to him, the jade of her eyes piercing thousands of tiny daggers into his blue ones. They stared each other down and suddenly, just like that, it came to her. She realized where she knew him from. Before she could form a coherent sentence as to make her discovery known, Shane interrupted her thoughts.

"Man, this is a waste of time. We should've just left her in the field. Then we wouldn't be having this problem." He stomped out of the room without another word.

"Shane-" Rick called after him wearily and moved to follow him through the doorway when Leda spoke.

"Didn't you give me like eight speeding tickets?" she asked, raising her eyebrow.

He halted and his eyes widened in recognition.

"Leda Cl-," he started before she abruptly cut him off, like she was prepared for it.

"We both know that it wouldn't be a good idea to finish that word," she warned him.

A broad grin spread over his features like sunshine breaking through a cloudy day and he strode back over to the bed that she was currently confined to. She noticed the hand that had still been hovering over his gun had relaxed and fallen to his side.

Wow. Apparently my minor infamy earns trust. Ha.

"Well I don't believe it," he said shaking his head. "How did you get all the way over here to Georgia?"

"Same as everyone else," She snorted, "We heard there was shelter in Atlanta and when that didn't work out, I just kind of chose a road and followed it until I ran out of gas." She shrugged. "Been on foot ever since."

"Wait, so you two know each other?" Glenn interjected.

Rick nodded. "This woman right here is known as the Speed Demon of King County."

"And I carry that title with pride," she said with a smirk. It was all coming back to her now. Oh, she and Rick Grimes had become well acquainted during the ten minute intervals that defined her oh so spotless driving record. Back in King County, she had been addicted to speed. And not the drug. No, she had never cared much for drugs. Instead, she obsessed over sitting behind the wheel of a top speed car. And every time a cop caught her (and it was Rick most of the time), she just shrugged it off, paid it, and was right back on the road doing a hundred and twenty all over again. It was a wonder to Rick how she hadn't lost her license. He had always figured that she knew someone at the local DMV or something like that and had been able to pull of few strings.

Reviewing the memory in his head, a smile was playing at the corner of Rick's lips when Leda's stomach grumbled.

"Um, if I could trouble someone to get the can of beans that's in my pack, I would really appreciate it," she said sheepishly as she looked down at her feet.

"There's no need," Hershel answered. "We have food to spare."

"That's really not necessary..." she trailed off. After depending on herself for so long, she really wasn't happy about the hole of debt that was being dug for her. She much preferred doing things on her own, but at this point, she really didn't have a choice.

Hershel got up and left the room, ignoring her.

She sighed and looked back up to the two people remaining.

Rick grabbed the stool that Hershel had just vacated and repositioned it farther down the bed so that he could give her some space before sitting on it.

"So now will you explain to us why there was a whole mob of walkers chasing after you?" he asked with a serious expression.

"So that's what you call them, huh."

"Well what exactly do you call them."

"Steve," she replied with a straight face.

"Steve?" Rick repeated, raising an amused eyebrow.

"The first one I ever saw had Steve scrawled on his shirt. It seemed appropriate." Her eyes were sparkling, clearly pleased with herself. She noticed Glenn flash a toothy grin from his position beside the door. "I do like the term 'walker' though. It's simple."

Something caught Glenn's attention outside the room and when he asked to be excused, Rick nodded his head, leaving him and Leda alone in the room. He turned back to her.

"Stop avoiding the question," Rick commanded, donning his cop voice, but his smiling eyes betrayed him. Her gaze flicked back to his and she conceded.

"I was looking for supplies in some housing development near here when some assholes decided to get the bright idea to do the same. Good god, they started firing their guns off in the streets like it was the twenty-one gun salute. I swear, they pretty much rang the dinner bell. And of all the other houses they could have chosen, it was the one I was hiding in. There were three in total, and two of them came in the front door."

She put her hands up in defense before she went on.

"Now yes, I killed them okay. But only because there was no doubt in my mind that they would have done the same to me the first chance they got. It is and all it's ever been is a fucked up version of self-defense." She put her hands back down and started picking at her fingernails.

Rick's eyes fell to the floor but he said nothing.

"I've never enjoyed killing the living during the several weeks that I've been forced to survive but more often than not, it comes down to kill or be killed," she admitted, sighing before she continued. "So the first one I picked off easily but I made a mistake when moving on to the second. Somehow he saw me and fired off a round before I could get to him. By then, about every-" she paused and chucked as she used the new term. "-walker in the neighborhood was banging on the front door. Anyway, the third guy heard the shot and walked in the back door. He saw me before I could take cover. He's the bastard who shot me. Eventually, I did take the guy down. At that point I had two choices. Run or fight. And I was pretty positive that I couldn't take on that many walkers at one time. So...there you have it."

She purposefully decided to leave out the part about the guy reanimating without being bitten so she save herself the embarrassment of sounding completely nuts. She herself still didn't understand it and she doubted that he would either.

Rick rubbed the back of his neck thinking about what she said.

"And for the record, when I chose which direction to run, I had no idea that I was running towards a farm with people living on it." she said, finishing.

"I can't see how you would have known," he agreed. "So do you have a place that you're staying? Or are you constantly on the move?"

"Find me a tall tree and I'm set for the night," she replied with a smile.

He almost laughed at that. Almost. Instead he just cocked his head and stared at her curiously.

"I bet you were wondering what the hammock was for when you searched my bag."

"How do you know we searched your bag?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I would've done it if I were you. You're a smart cop. I don't imagine you'd take any chances." She paused and then asked, "So how did you get here Grimes? What's your story?"

He sat up stiffly.

"We thought Fort Benning might still be safe. We were on our there when we had to stop because of all the cars that had piled up on the interstate. There wasn't enough fuel left for us to turn around and go another way so our only choice was to try to find a path around. Which is what we were doing until our camper broke down. So we were just out there in the open, searching the nearby cars for supplies when one of our group spotted a herd coming our way, just wandering down the highway. I instructed everyone to hide under the cars. We waited it out, but somehow two walkers saw a one of us." He stood and went to stand by the window and gaze out onto the grassy field.

His head dropped with guilt to the floor. Leda silently wondered what happened and waited patiently for him to continue.

"It was a little girl named Sophia. Luckily, it was just the two walkers and no more, but she slipped down the side of the bank into the forest trying to get away and I ran after her. I managed to draw them towards me, but after I took care of them and went back for her, she was gone," he said sadly. "It's been four days since then. And to make matters worse, my son, Carl, was shot while we were out looking for her."

"How?" she inquired.

"It was an accident. Hershel had a ranch hand who was living here, and he was out hunting at the same time that we were out searching for Sophia. Carl-" he paused thoughtfully, clearly remembering something, but deciding not to share it. "He was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

He met Leda's eyes and she could tell that there was definitely something else that had happened. She wondered, of course, what he didn't want her to know, but she shrugged inwardly, deciding that it was his business.

"I'm assuming he's recovering?" she ventured and he nodded.

"Hershel agreed to let us stay here until Carl is better and to give us some time to look for Sophia."

"He told me that he expects me to leave as soon as I'm capable as well."

He sighed, shaking his head. "He doesn't understand how hard it is out there. Somehow, this farm has been protected from the chaos out there and him and his family haven't been forced to experience it yet. The only reason they know about it all is from seeing it on tv. He tells us we can only stay here until we've tied up our loose ends but..." he trailed off. "I've been trying to convince him to let us stay, but it hasn't been easy."

There was a long silence and Leda gazed over at Rick. He seemed far away has he scanned the fields of uncut grass beyond the walls of the house. She found it hard to believe that this farm was as safe as they said. Maybe it was just dumb luck that was their shield. But as much as she doubted the future stability of it, she wanted to throw all of her misgivings to the wind and accept the false sense of refuge. Living on the run, without even a semi-permanent sense of belonging, would eventually drive her insane and she knew it. And these people seemed like they were the first survivors she had come across who actually had their heads screwed on right. She even knew one of them, which won her over even more. The truth was clear: she did want a place in their group. The only problem was that in this world, outsiders rarely had the chance to be accepted, and even when the opportunity was given, they had to earn the right which much blood, sweat, and tears.

She couldn't think about that right now though. She was in these people's debt, and she wasn't the type of person that would just walk off without another word.

Finally, she spoke, putting her thoughts into words.

"Both you and Hershel saved my life and I have a debt to repay."

Rick tore himself away from his thoughts, walking away from the window and sitting back in the chair beside the bed as she continued.

"If you would allow it, I'd like to return the favor and give you some help finding this missing girl. I'm sure you need as many able people as you can get." She paused. "And I can give Hershel's family a hand with his farm, or at least try to go and find more medicine and supplies to replace the ones I've used."

He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, considering her proposal.

"I need to know that you're not going to be a threat while you're here," he finally said, looking at her sternly. "I have a duty to do and that's to protect the people in my group from both walkers and others who would do us harm. I'm sure you can understand that."

She nodded. "I won't be a threat if I'm not threatened. It goes both ways, Grimes."

He smiled at her statement. "I can promise that you won't have anything to worry about while you're here."

Her eyes dropped to her feet again as she asked "Who was that who came in here with you earlier?"

"That was Shane, my partner," he replied after clearing his throat.

"He's a cop too? I don't recall ever seeing him before."

He grinned."I guess he was lucky enough not to have had the misfortune of catching you."

She chuckled.

"As you saw before, he's got a quick temper, but he's not dangerous."

Her bright smile faded and she swallowed.

"You know Grimes, I've seen a lot of things in the past few weeks, as I'm sure you have as well. But the difference is that you've been with others you know won't try to slit your throat while you're sleeping. Going solo was a choice for me because of the people out there, the ones who aren't infected. Every survivor I've come across, up until this point," she admitted, motioning towards him with her hand, "has always been a bad experience. There's...there's something behind their eyes that's completely gone. It's like the human brain just can't endure the pressure that's become of this new world. As many times as I've seen that insanity, it isn't hard for me to spot anymore, and...your partner, Shane...he's got that look."

Rick's expression turned hard and he searched her eyes, unable to accept the gravity of what she was implying. She stared back with concern evident on her features.

Rick's thoughts were interrupted as a woman Leda hadn't seen before stepped into the room.

"Carl's awake," she said, giving Leda a curious and slightly hostile glance.

Rick nodded as he rose to his feet.

"I'm sure Hershel will be along with your food soon," he said and left, obviously eager to check up on his recuperating son.

Rick followed his wife down the hallway towards the room Carl was in when she whirled around, eyeing him closely.

"So what have you decided to do with her?" Lori inquired.

"Well," he began, running a hand through his curly hair. "Do you remember me ever mentioning the woman I gave multiple speeding tickets to?"

She raised her eyebrows disbelievingly. "You mean the Speed Demon of King County?" obviously recalling Leda. "That's her?"

"It's hard to believe, I know, but yeah, that's her."

"You're not planning on letting her join our group, are you?" she pushed, resting her hand on her hip.

"I might, she could be an asset. She said she can fight and from what I've heard from her reputation back in Kentucky, she's quite skilled with cars. Pretty much anything having to do with mechanics in general."

Lori snorted. "I've heard a lot more about her reputation than that," she said shaking her head. "I think it's bad idea Rick. We still don't know what kind of person she is first-hand, I mean she led a bunch of walkers here! It's plain to see that she's dangerous."

"She didn't know that there was a farm here and she was in trouble," he told her calmly.

"Rick, you know I've supported your decisions in the past without question, but I'm not sure how much longer I'll be able to do that if you keep endangering us like this," her voice low and ominous she spoke.

With that she turned her back to him and disappeared into Carl's room.

Rick's jaw set into a frustrated line and he took a deep breath to calm his nerves before following after his wife through the door.