Peta2 - Merle needs a friend. He also needs a woman...I'm working on it. Thanks for the review!
HGRHfan35 - I like to think of the Lt. as a kitten. He may be adorable, but he still has claws. ^_^
Brazen Hussy - Oh no, dear. No hard feeling's at all...I hope I didn't come across as mean...I meant other people who push their hate on characters and their fans. Drat I meant no insult. *hugs* ^_^
Satory - I'm glad you enjoyed the religious aspect of that last chapter. I'm actually fond of that story about Esu...it's a good one.
skittletitz - Soooonn *creepy hand rubbing* Sooonn with the Caryl shipping in story...
peonies01 - Good heavens, over one hundred thousand words...you might get your wish for a never ending story...yikes. ^_^ Thanks for the review!
rebecca taylor - Thank you, dear! Your reviews are always short, but sweet. ^_^
GG - Yeah, I think the Lt. figured that out. It's why he's putting Merle to work in the next few chapters...a bored Merle is a dangerous Merle.
MollyMayhem84 - Gosh, Merle is a hard character to get inside the head of. Mr. Rooker does a wonderful job, because Merle is just so complex. He's like the contradiction of a contradiction wrapped in an enigma, wrapped in the skin of a man.
SilverWolf84 - The show is pretty heavy at times. But I love it because of that, as you can tell even my serious chapters have to have some element of humour in them...but I think Merle once given a chance can be a halfway decent, even playful fellow.
Surplus Imagination - Oh, glad I could help. I'm certainly having a hard time cracking the nut that is Merle Dixon...but I'm glad I'm getting him across. I'm hoping to get Father O'Rourke involved in the story more...maybe for Merle's sake at least, but with sooooo many characters, it's hard to focus on just the minor ones...I'd love to write everyone (hence the Rick chapter here), but alas just cannot.
Axelrocks - French Canuck? My people! I knew there was a reason I liked you! Merle is such a button pusher, isn't he? I kind of adore him.
laura - I'm trying. I think the man deserves some redemption. I mean when we first met him we were supposed to hate him, being a drugged up racist, but the truth is he came from the same background as Daryl and deserves a second chance just like anyone.
A True Dreamer - I hope the alert sticks for your sake as well. Too bad about your other OTP pairing being obliterated. I hate when that happens, it's like a personal wound is opened. ^_^ Thank God for fanfiction, huh?
spygrrl99 - Aw, I bet you say that to all the fanfic writer's...you tease. ^_^ Thanks for the review!
Supfan - I love me some man on man fighting action! I think it was due time, the Lt. is too easy going, he needed to establish his Alpha Male role. ^_^
Lilone1776 - I know. Merle is one of those characters that raise either legions of loyal and rabid fans or legions of villagers outside his castle with pitchforks and torches. I adore him!
AFishNamedSushi - Gah, I missed you! Glad to see you're back! ^_^ I worry about my loyal reviewers when they miss a few chapters. I'm honoured that you read my Caryl chapter in a meeting...that makes me feel like a drug pusher. (Which shouldn't make me feel this proud..odd...)
So, hey, if any of you follow me on tumblr don't be afraid to give me a head's up. A lot of you have different names over there and it's confusing and a little scary. I won't be mean if you give me a friendly 'hey', I swear!
So...I wanted to write a Rick chapter, because after all I adore the man...he needs to be brought back to us. I'm not even sorry for the lack of Caryl in this one, because RICK!
Chapter Forty-Three: Tracas
**Rick**
He had lost part of his soul.
Somewhere between waking up in the hospital a cop with a gunshot wound and the place he stood at the very moment, looking over the unloading of supplies, keeping mental track of what they had and what they needed, a piece of it had splintered off and had fallen on the dusty ground.
If he was honest – and at this point at least he could say he was an honest man with himself – it didn't happen with Lori. The piece of his soul, his very essence, that had broken off wasn't due to losing her. It didn't come from Shane and the path that they had walked down together, it wasn't Judith or Carl or losing the farm.
If Rick had to be completely honest, he felt that part of him was lost the instant he argued with Dale on the point of Randall.
He had let desperation and greed and perhaps a touch of pride work their way into him and they kicked and chipped away until that piece of his soul came loose.
The thing that turned his blood cold in his veins was how okay he was with that. It was like he was standing outside wavy glass blocks, peering in on the man he used to be, disconnected from that police officer he once was. He was comfortably numb in his disconnection.
As the last of the supplies disappeared into the church, he bowed his head and kicked at the dirt with the toe of his boot.
"Daryl," he said, addressing the man he knew wouldn't be too far from his side. "Get everyone together for a quick tactical meeting. I think it's time we discussed this ambush further."
"You got it."
Watching the youngest Dixon walk off, Rick sighed lightly. Admittedly if it wasn't for Daryl he didn't know what would have become of them, of any of them, Judith more than anything.
The truth was, Rick had moments where he thought of giving up his post to Daryl, but he wouldn't wish the burden on anyone, least of all him.
Turning back to head into the church to make sure everything was stored properly, he found a very grim nun standing just behind him.
She was a short, petite thing. The sort of woman who honestly looked like a good gust of wind would knock her off her course.
Then again, the way her mouth was set, her eyebrows lowered in determination, he had a feeling she'd fight tooth and nail to keep on her path despite the blowing gales.
"May I have a quick word, Mr. Grimes?" She asked in a posh Georgian accent.
It was the type of accent he could recall soccer moms and women from the suburbs of Atlanta having.
He glanced around, before nodding. "Alright."
Leading him around the corner of the church, the tiny woman looked up at him with clear, ocean green eyes.
"I was hoping you'd reconsider sending the Lieutenant into Woodbury," she said, holding up her hand before he could respond. "He may not mean much to you and yours, Mr. Grimes, but he means the world to us. He's an invaluable member of this convent and it would devastate us should we lose him."
"I'm sorry," Rick stated. "He's made his choice. But I promise we'll do everything to ensure he gets out of there alive."
"Somehow I can't seem to have faith in your promises, Mr. Grimes."
Placing his hands on his hips, Rick shifted on his feet, eyeing the woman. "You're just going to have to."
"Well, if you refuse to listen to my pleas, then I'm going to have to ask you to leave my convent. You and yours." She stated.
Unable to comprehend the woman, Rick stood for a long, silent minute gazing at her. "And where do you suggest we go?"
"Your people are not my concern, just as mine are not yours."
Knowing going back to the prison wasn't an option until the threat at Woodbury was quelled, Rick ran his hand over his face. "You can't just throw my people to the mercy of Woodbury."
"And you can't do likewise with mine," the woman insisted. "Mr. Grimes, I don't want to be cruel and callous, but if it comes down to keeping Lafayette from being thrown to the wolves, then I will cut off the head of the snake before it strikes. However," she added simply, "I'm not so cruel as to be unwilling to work out a compromise."
"Such as?"
Grace jerked her chin up, eyeing Tyreese's man as he wandered by high on the wall.
Rick watched the man pass as well, waiting until he was out of earshot, before continuing.
"What do you want from me?"
"Send me in his place." She said.
"No."
"Send me in Lafayette's place to Woodbury and your people will be very much welcome here as always."
Sighing heavily, Rick pondered her proposal. "Your Lieutenant is heavily trained. He can withstand it better if they resort to unsavoury means. You can't."
"I don't care." The woman insisted. "The Lieutenant means more to my people than I ever will. He keeps them safe, protects them, I'm not as valuable to them as he is. Besides, if you're so confident that you can get him out, then you can get me out just as well. I have nothing to fear."
"Let me think about it," he bargained, hoping to buy himself enough time to think of something better.
"No. I get your agreement or your people leave before dusk."
"That is an unacceptable demand," he snarled, stooping low enough to meet her eyes.
She remained still. "I don't care."
"Even if we die?" He snapped. Angling his body he pointed forcefully at the front gate. "Because out there is nothing but death and loss and blood and violence, that will be the world you'll turn us out into!"
"And what kind of life do you expect us to have after you're gone and our Lieutenant is demised?" She returned calmly. Infuriatingly calm.
"You'll have Merle, Michonne, hell maybe Tyreese and his people will want to stay with you here."
"Unacceptable." She stated. "They aren't my right hand, they aren't the one I trust most with the safety of these people."
Heaving a sigh, Rick eyed their surroundings looking for threats.
"I'm not asking much, Mr. Grimes. Just send me in his place. That's all I'm asking."
"You don't think your people will miss you?"
"I'm inconsequential," she said. "They need him, he's stronger, he can keep them safe and happy. I don't need to be trained to give the men at Woodbury your ambush coordinates, I can do it."
"And what are we supposed to tell him?"
"Nothing. I have a plan to keep him otherwise occupied while I slip away for Woodbury. It's not ethical, but any port in a storm, wouldn't you agree?"
Rick didn't like the idea of letting the woman go into the lion's den, but then again that disconnected part of him didn't care, as long as his people survived. "Fine."
The woman bowed her head solemnly. "You agree to my terms?"
"Yes."
"Do I have your word, Mr. Grimes?"
"Yes."
Smiling a little, the woman reached out and touched a small, strong hand to his wrist. "Good. Thank you."
He nodded.
"If I were a colder man," he began, "I would have just had my people take this place by force."
"But you're not, Mr. Grimes, and that was the chance I was willing to take."
Glancing up, Rick noticed Carol edging close and cleared his throat. He hadn't noticed her earlier and wasn't sure just how long she'd been standing there. "Carol?"
"Everyone's ready for the meeting," she said softly.
He nodded. "Okay."
With her bright blue eyes flickering from Rick to Grace, Carol stepped back. "We'll be waiting."
Watching Carol go, Rick exhaled. He could almost feel the man he was pushing at him, trying, pleading to just absolutely deny the nun what she wanted. But that took time and energy. If she wanted to go in the Lieutenant's place, then that was her prerogative, he was done with playing knight-in-shining-armour to everyone.
"Let me know a few days before you need me," the nun said softly. "I'm ready whenever you are."
He nodded.
..-~-..
..-~-..
Standing in the bell tower, gazing down at the darkening land beneath him, Rick kept an ever vigilant watch on his people, knowing exactly who went where and how long they were there.
It wasn't a surprise to him when Carol joined him, as he spied her leaving the storage shed where he heard her and Daryl had made a little place for themselves and scurried up the steps of the church and into the building.
"It's going to be cool tonight," she greeted, holding herself against the chill that was already falling upon the Georgian countryside.
"Been colder," he returned.
"Judith's sleeping in the storage shed with me tonight," she went on conversationally. "She fell asleep on Daryl's chest, so he's incapacitated right now."
"What do you want, Carol?" Rick asked.
She leaned her hip against the guardrail where he stood and eyed him quietly.
In some ways she was like a mother cat, guarded against things that would want to harm her kittens, but capable of curling up in your lap and purring all night long. And the way she often looked at people reminded him of a cat, it was an unblinking, tranquil study of them.
She actually shamed him with just a look and his hung his head a little. Knowing full well she had heard his exchange with the nun earlier.
As though she sensed how uncomfortable she made him, she glanced away slowly, taking in the land below them.
"I remember the first time I saw you at the quarry," she began softly. "The first time you noticed me, anyways. You were soft spoken and patient, kind eyed and tall enough that you made me feel safe with just your presence."
"Those were simpler times," he argued.
"No, they weren't." She stated. "Life's always been hard, Rick. It's just before, the people who fought and struggled to live were separated from society as a whole. We heard about apartheid and war on the television and radio, but never lived it. Children were being drowned by their mothers and women were being beaten by their husbands in this country, but proper society never heard of these things and when they did, they'd cluck their tongues and shake their heads and say 'what a shame' and they had no clue, no clue just what it was like for these people. Our quality of life has certainly changed, but the times are not easier or harder then they had been, then they always will be. It's just now we have to stop and appreciate life for the little things, because the threat of dying is suddenly very real. Now we're the one's living that hardship."
Rick eyed the woman at his side.
It was no secret what Ed had done to her, hell he saw spousal abuse first hand as a cop, but he never gave it much thought that she was living two hells, three if you counted the fact that she lost her daughter.
And yet she stood beside him, calm, collected, almost serene, looking at him with those unwavering cat-like eyes and a small smile on her face.
He swallowed thickly.
Carol reached out with her dainty hand and touched his forearm gently. "You know we love you, don't you? After everything we've been through, you have to know how close we've all become."
He eyed her hand on his arm.
As though reading his mind, Carol leaned over and gave him a kind hug, squeezing him in a way that only a mother could and Rick almost collapsed into the embrace.
When she pulled back all too soon, he sighed.
Carol beamed at him, rubbing his back between his shoulder blades where he carried the most tension, the weight of his responsibility.
"Come on down with me," she urged. "We have enough people on the wall, you should get some sleep tonight."
..-~-..
..-~-..
He wasn't sure if it was Carol just giving him some form of support or perhaps it was his own conscience that finally won out, but later that night he tracked down the Cajun.
Finding him seated on the wall, eyeing the darkness, Rick climbed up beside him and relayed his entire conversation with Grace to him.
The Lieutenant, for his part, was quiet, listening intently to the entire tale, before shifting in his spot.
"I'm sorry she threatened your people, Rick." The man said.
"It doesn't matter, I think she was just pulling at whatever straws she had," he said, "can't say I blame her."
"So, what do you want to do about it then? Because there's no way in hell she's going to Woodbury."
"Well, she might not be happy, but we may have to just string her along. Unless you want to reconsider your offer to go."
Shaking his head once, the Cajun adjusted his grip on his rifle. "No, I said I'd go and I meant it."
"If your people are unhappy with you going—"
"They're all my people, Rick." A strange glint came to the man's eyes as he went on. "I'm a Marine, a servant of the United States armed forces. I don't care how messed up the country is, if these people at Woodbury are unjustly attacking innocents, then they need to be controlled. I know I'm just a soldier, but I always thought of myself as more of a peacekeeper. And as much as I adore my girls, they need to realize that first and foremost I am a Marine."
Rick eyed the man. It was funny, he wore the uniform, walked the walk, but as easy going and friendly as he was, it was almost easy to forget the man was a highly trained soldier.
"Believe it or not, Texian," the Cajun went on with a tiny smirk. "I'm actually good at what I do. There's a reason I started this war a Sergeant Major and it's not because I look good in the uniform."
"So what do you want to do?"
"Keep it between us for now, let her think she's gotten her way, let me know if she gives you any clue as to her plans. Don't worry, she likes to think she can get her way, kind of a pushy woman, but her heart is always in the right place."
Rick nodded. "If you're sure."
"Mal pris, eh?" The Lieutenant teased with a sigh. "Mais, thank you for letting me know, Rick. And don't worry, your people aren't going anywhere. I guarantee that."
"Thank you."
Offering him a crooked grin, the Lieutenant nodded. "Now get some sleep, yeah? Merle and I moved a couple of cots into the garden shed if you want to crash on the one behind the lawnmower. Don't worry, Merle's on the wall behind the church, you can get a good night's sleep."
"Thank you. Think I might take you up on that offer."
The Cajun Dialect
Tracas - Problem
Mal Pris (A refresher) – Stuck in a bad situation.