Rick woke up last.
He woke up in the house with Morgan and Duane after a terrifying night of hoping the walkers didn't see or hear them. Of having to be far too silent and holding his breath at every little noise. He woke up with the plan to hit the station and clear out some of the guns. He woke feeling like he couldn't change anything.
Rick relived that day over and over again. Leading his friend and the young boy into the station, sharing a blessedly hot shower with them, and getting them armed. He said goodbye to them and dealt with the walker who used to be a fellow deputy. He didn't always put a bullet into him. Sometimes he used his knife. Sometimes he begged Morgan to follow him. Morgan never did.
He always ended up leaving for Atlanta, though. He always ran out of gas and had to get that horse. He always rode it into town. And he always got saved by Glenn while he sat inside that stupid tank. He didn't care about the horse anymore. It meant he got away. It meant he ran into Glenn and T-Dog and Andrea and Jacqui and Morales and even Merle.
There were days he did whatever he could to save Merle. And there were days he just straight up shot him in the head. Those days never went very well after that. But no one questioned his plans. They just acted like they'd traded one terrible would-be leader for another. It as also those days that he had the satisfaction of shooting Shane as soon as he got back to camp. No hesitation, just his gun out and a bullet through the head. His voice holding no remorse as he said, "That's for fucking my wife."
Those days didn't usually end well. Lori didn't want to go near him and Carl looked at him like he was a monster he didn't know. And it was probably true. Some days he was a monster.
But some days he remembered how to be human.
And those days always ended wonderfully. Lori alive and loving him. Merle on the roof and sometimes not. Carl happy with him. Shane struggling with guilt and genuine relief at the miracle of his return.
He couldn't remember how many times it repeated until something changed. Lost count like he had lost count of the lives he'd taken. It didn't matter, of course. Except it did. Somewhere in his head he knew it mattered. That how many times he was human verses how many times he was a monster made a difference. Somewhere, somehow it did. The more human he was, the more things seemed to go well for him. Like his subconscious was willing him to be the man he used to be. To not lose faith in the inherent goodness of man.
It was after he hadn't killed Merle for a while that his trip down the 85 into Atlanta was stopped by a station wagon in the middle of the road. It was empty the first time. And the second. And he ignored it, though he did look back in curiosity as he made his way to that tank and Glenn's voice calling him a dumbass.
But the third time, the third time he swore he heard Carl's voice calling out to him. Laughing as it got closer, like he was running to him. Only he wasn't there. It was just the station wagon and an empty road.
The next time it happened it was Glenn he heard. Calling him a dumbass again. An echo of their first meeting. Carol's voice came after, asking him if he remembered her.
"Yeah," he said, tired and not sure if he wanted to hear the echoes of ghosts he'd still see later. "Yeah, I remember you."
But she wasn't there. Not really. And he went on to Atlanta and that tank and the rooftop where he cuffed Merle. This time, though, he thought of Glenn and Carol. Like they were waiting for him to lead them on. And he gave Andrea the key instead of T-Dog. Told T get to the door with Jacqui and Morales. Told Andrea to wait until she heard the sirens pulling the geeks' attention. They didn't wait until the rain was breaking over them. They just did it right then and there. Got out before they had to worry about the walkers catching their scent. Merle made it, still tweeked out, but he got back to camp and hunkered down in his camp while he sobered up.
Rick started to do that more often. He noticed that the more he did it, the more likely he was to hear one of their voices. Daryl's the least. But it was Daryl who's face he saw first. Faded out with the station wagon visible through his body while he smiled his welcome to Rick.
Carl was next, running to meet him as he sat on his horse. He saw his own ghost tumbling out of the saddle to greet his son in tears. Carl introduced him to Daryl and Carol and Glenn. And was disappointed when his ghost didn't remember them.
"But I do remember you," he muttered. Then he screamed it. Then he cried, sobbing as he curled in on himself. The ghosts kept haunting him and all he could do was keep on going. Keep on meeting them on that roof top. Keep on trying to save them all.