Chapter 13- All Right, On Three, We Move!
"YOU SHOT HIM!? Joe yelled incredulously as he paced around in front of the cabin.
"What the fuck did he say?" Rick asked in a panic when they heard Joe screaming through the trees.
"Carl! Rick! Carl!" Michonne whisper-shouted with terror in her wide eyes.
Michonne was about to take off running, and Rick was about to be on her heels when Darryl and Shane stopped them respectively.
"We ain't heard no gunshots, Rick. Let's get a little closer and see what's going on and what we are up against first," Shane suggested, and a hesitant Rick took a deep breath, "He probably ain't talking about your son. I bet it's about those shots fired at city hall, remember?"
Rick squeezed Michonne's hand, and the foursome jogged a little faster towards the cabin. When Rick, Darryl, Michonne, and Shane approached the edge of the woods and stealthily peeked through the heavy brush, they observed a livid Joe standing outside and screaming into his phone.
"YOU SHOT HIM!" Joe repeated in disbelief at how his entire plan was falling apart right in front of his eyes, "YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BRING GREGGORY HERE, BUT YOU DECIDED TO SHOOT HIM INSTEAD? WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU ARE SURROUNDED? FUCK!" Joe screamed and threw his phone across the yard in anger.
"See," Shane proclaimed, "I guess those shots fired must have been at that asshole mayor."
Joe took a deep breath, stomped over and picked up his phone, then held it against his forehead in frustration. Things were going from bad to worse and Joe had to actively shake off the feeling that he was going to end up back in prison or dead. Joe heard some rustling in the woods and glimpsed in the direction of the noise, then bemusedly turned his head in the opposite direction where four claimers were hidden on guard duty. Joe furrowed his brows and squinted his eyes trying to search through the trees and figure out who or what was crunching the leaves. Joe made a move to walk over and check the area, and Rick firmly anchored his stance ready to pounce, but Joe's inept employee interrupted his inspection.
"Boss, you there?" George inquired and Joe rolled his eyes.
Joe figured he was in the middle of the damn woods, and it was probably one critter or another. Shane blew out a breath of relief and listened to the rest of Joe's conversation as they stood quietly trying not to make a peep.
"Put Bud on the phone," Joe requested and waited for Bud to answer.
"Yes," Bud greeted.
"I need you to get the information from Greggory. The passcodes, the bank numbers, everything and bring them to me along with his laptop. Slip out and leave George there to take the fall," Joe demanded and waited for Bud to acknowledge that he understood the new directive.
The claimers on guard grew anxious. Two were members that escaped the Manville raid, and the other two were not at the clubhouse during the incursion. Once the two escapees ran, they sent out an emergency alert and were picked up by the latter who had just received instructions from Joe to head to the cabin. The four claimers, who arrived a few minutes before Joe, were ordered to hide in the bushes and shoot anybody that was not supposed to be there. They were too dumb to separate and surround the cabin and instead, all hid together on the opposite side of the cabin looking out towards the entrance thinking they would be able to see anyone coming. That made it much easier for Rick and the rest to approach the cabin unnoticed. The Claimers were not the brightest bulbs in the bunch.
As the four claimers stood behind the trees listening to Joe's conversation with Bud, they grew even more suspicious as to Joe's ultimate conclusion for them. Their first clue that their leader was up to no good was Joe's reaction concerning the numerous dead claimers after the raid. It did not sit right with the four when Joe laughed and said that 'some had to die for others to live.' And now, Joe was setting up George to take the fall, just like with Rondo. All four were wondering what Joe had in store for them and each selfishly decided apart from the other that if shit went down, it was going to be every man for himself.
"I don't know if I can slip out Joe. The mayor is refusing to budge with any information and like George said, we are surrounded by the police," Bud informed, and Joe grimaced.
"Bud, If you want to see that foul lipped woman of yours again, I suggest you figure it out," Joe spat and hung up the phone hoping the threat would light a fire under him.
Bud rolled his eyes. Charlene was safe in police custody and Bud had a strong feeling that Joe was just spouting empty threats and would likely not leave that cabin alive. Bud had no intention of following Joe's orders. Bud bet his money on Rick, Darryl, and Shane.
Joe stood and looked up to the sky and took a deep breath. Everything was going to shit and in broad daylight at that. If Greggory would not come to the cabin, Joe was going to have to take Andrea to city hall once it closed. It was risky, but necessary to get his loot. Andrea would have the choice to figure out a way to move the money without the Mayor or die. Joe prayed that Bud was competent enough to get all the right passcodes to make the transfer of money easier for the Blond. Joe turned to walk back inside the cabin but halted when heard something moving in the trees again. Shane closed his eyes in frustration at Rick's impatience. This time, Joe reached for his gun, but before he could pull it from the back of his pants, Rick bolted from the trees and bum-rushed Joe, knocking the Claimers breath away with a hard shoulder strike to his chest. Rick tackled Joe to the ground and an irritated Shane and surprised Darryl ran from behind the trees, fully exposed to whomever might be there with Joe. Michonne fiercely took up the rear with her Katana high in the air.
"You think you can just take my kid," Rick hollered in Joe's face and headbutted the lead Claimer to disorient him.
It worked and Joe saw stars and stopped struggling long enough for Rick to pull his gun. When Joe finally was able to see clearly again, he found himself looking down the barrel of Rick's legendary Colt Python.
"WHERE'S MY SON! I WANT MY SON!" Rick spat and looked around for Carl before putting his eyes back on Joe.
Joe was flustered and he wondered where those fucking Claimers were that were supposed to be guarding him and watching for unexpected visitors. Shane, Darryl and Michonne darted towards the cabin but before they could make it to the porch, the four hesitant claimers came bursting out of the woods fully armed and pointing their guns at their heads.
"HOLD IT OR I WILL PUT A BULLET IN YOUR BRAIN!" One of the four claimers yelled.
There was a lot of money involved in the heist, and each claimer let their greed overtake their rational side concerning Joe's real fate for each of them. They placed all their eggs in Joe's cash basket and prayed they did not get scrambled in the process. All four were too stupid to realize Joe had no intention of sharing that money.
"ABOUT DAMN TIME!" Joe spat and smirked at Rick, "AND NO ONE SHOOT! WE DON'T NEED TO ALERT THE LAW TOO EARLY! Besides, I might need them to make my escape. If they try to attack, kill the kid."
The four claimers caught the use of Joe's singular, personal pronoun, and they each looked at the other with trepidation. Rick was irritated with himself for jumping the gun. He knew better than to charge into a situation without surveying the surroundings to figure out who and what he was up against, or even where Carl was being held. Shane suggested causing a diversion to pull anybody that might be inside the cabin, or the surrounding woods, out in the open and then attack. Rick had agreed to that strategy, then just shitted on the plan with his impulsiveness. All Rick saw was red, and the rational part of his brain was slowly diminishing.
Darryl, Shane, and Michonne were trapped, but Shane cocked his shotgun anyway and one of the claimers cocked his pistol. It was four against three which was doable, then Shane noticed Claimer Wendell come out of the cabin with his gun drawn too. Five against the three. And it looked like Joe was about to have the upper hand against Rick after managing to pull his gun also. Six armed men against four, and only Shane and Rick were armed with guns. The odds were not in their favor, especially when claimer Clyde made it seven against four when he walked on the porch with his gun aimed too. They could not take the risk considering Carl's life was at stake.
"Well looky there," Joe laughed and cocked his head up at Rick, "You might want to get off me now."
"Fuck," Rick muttered angrily.
Rick looked around then closed his eyes in thought. He could not risk anyone shooting Michonne and Carl and moved from on top of Joe. Joe got up from the ground and arrogantly dusted himself off looking menacingly at the claimers who hesitated to save him then returned his focus back to Rick.
"I think you better drop those weapons boys," Joe demanded with a grin then looked at Michonne and her Katana, "and girls too."
Two claimers aimed their guns at Shane and Darryl and waved them around indicating where they should drop their weapons. All but Michonne and Rick reluctantly did so. Michonne was ready to fight, and one claimer had to forcibly take Michonne's katana, while another grabbed her by the arms to keep her from attacking. But Michonne was strong, filled with a mother's adrenaline and rage, and it took two claimers to hold her still. Rick's rational side had weakened even more as he squeezed the handle of his colt.
"Let her go," Rick growled, and it sent such chills up the two claimers' spines that they complied for a second.
They quickly grabbed ahold of Michonne again once Joe yelled for the two dummies to hold her back and only take direction from him.
"Where is my son," Rick asked again in an eerily serene voice and fiery eyes and Joe shivered slightly at the juxtaposition, but managed to keep his composure.
"You might want to drop those," laughed Joe as he sauntered closer to Rick, "the gun AND the attitude I mean."
"I want my son!" Rick snarled and Joe's breath hitched at the inhuman sound.
This time Joe did not gather himself so quickly, and everyone out there saw that brief hint of fear that creeped over Joe's face. It made the claimers who decided to bet on Joe wish they would have just run.
"You are in no position to make demands deputy, so like I said, drop your attitude, and your gun and place them both on top of the weapons we already took from your little posse, or I will personally bring your boy out here and shoot him in the head right in front of you. You want to witness your own son die deputy?" Joe threatened in an effort to reestablish confidence and control.
It was clear which weapon Joe was more afraid of because of the one he wanted Rick to drop first. Joe thought Rick was no Warren. Warren was weak, but Rick? Rick was something more than just strong. Joe saw something primitive in Rick. Something ferocious. Joe was unnerved that Rick was hesitating and not cowering from his threat. Joe swallowed hard and was about to threaten Rick's son again but was relieved when he did not need to do so.
"Rick," Darryl uttered when he noticed Rick flinch as if he was going to take his chances.
Rick came to his partial senses but still tightly squeezed the handle of his colt in frustration. He looked over at Michonne in a blank stare, but Michonne was looking at Joe like she was about to rip him to shreds. Rick tossed his colt on top of the pile.
"Good for you, deputy. You might have just saved your son. Your father on the other hand," Joe laughed and moved his hand backwards and forwards implying saving Richard was going to be hit or miss.
Joe knew who Richard was to moment he saw him bleeding out on the cabin floor. He even dealt with the older Grimes once or twice over the years. Joe felt a little more confident about surviving the day when he first saw Richard lying almost dead on the cabin floor. He had two Grimes to use over Rick's head.
Rick surveyed his targets and growled when he saw Deputy Warren walk on the scene all cocky-like. On Joe's way to the cabin, he called Randall Warren to get his ass to the location. With George tied up with bringing the Mayor to the site, Joe needed some extra ammunition by his side. He did not trust Wendell and Clyde to do anything other than bungle shit and Joe was not sure the other claimers would even show up in time, or at all for that matter. When Warren informed Joe he was on the opposite end of town dealing with deputy business for Hershel, Joe told him to get his stupid ass to the cabin or else. Warren left the old couple despite Hershel's command that he stay. Warren figured in less than twenty-four hours, he would be long gone with his cut of the money anyway, so why bother following the Sherriff's commands.
"Looks like I am the one in control now. I AM IN CHARGE NOW!" Warren shouted with more bravado than he had in real life because Joe was there to protect him.
"I'm gonna chop off that hand you are threatening me with, real soon," Rick growled and watched Warren's grin fade quickly, "then I'm gonna kill you. I promise."
Joe laughed and pushed a terrified Warren out of the way and walked towards Rick. Halfway there, Joe stopped in irritation when he heard Andrea screaming from inside the cabin. Rick and Michonne both looked too because more than likely, Carl was inside also.
"One of you go inside and shut that blond up. She is going to alert everybody in the damn town to our location!" Joe protested in annoyance as he listened to Andrea screaming for help, "Hey! Softly now! I need her alive and rational and able to use her dainty little fingers to punch those computer keys!"
"Yes, boss," Claimer Wendell obliged and ran inside the cabin wondering how he was going to shut Andrea up without getting violent.
Joe rolled his eyes when Andrea screamed even louder and with much more vulgarity. Rick studied the situation and knew he and his family and friends were not gonna get out alive if he did not think of something quick. And without his gun, Rick could not shoot the signal for any lawmen that might be waiting in the wings to rush in. Rick needed to think swiftly on his feet, but first he needed to see Carl with his own two eyes.
"Let me see my son," Rick growled, and Joe narrowed his eyes and stared at Rick for a few awkward seconds.
"Aw heck. Who am I to deprive everyone of a father and son reunion," Joe chuckled, "Clyde, bring the boy out here."
"CARL!" Michonne shouted as she watched Claimer Clyde struggling to drag a combative Carl out of the cabin.
Andrea wasn't making it any easier for Clyde. She was trying to pull Carl back and kicking at Clyde furiously. Wendell pushed Andrea back inside the Cabin and Clyde dragged Carl outside. When Carl saw his mother, he put all the force his little body could muster into twisting and turning and fighting to break free and run to his mother. Michonne was doing the same against the claimers that were preventing her from getting to her son.
"This kid is a damn nuisance! But he is a pretty little thing," Clyde declared, and Carl kicked the disgusting man in the knee and made a run for it towards his mother, "Oh Shit! That fucking hurt!"
Carl was stopped by one of the four claimers who shook his head then pushed the kid back to Clyde who was still yelping in pain.
"Do you think you can hold that itty bitty boy still this time, Clyde?" Joe spat sarcastically and sucked his teeth that the big idiot could not even handle a small child.
"I will just hold him to me close Joe," Clyde grinned and ran his filthy hands over Carl's head like he was petting him.
"Let him go you asshole," Michonne shouted trying to pull herself free to get to her son and tears blurred her eyes.
"I aint never gonna let this one go," Clyde grinned a revolting sneer and licked his lips as he eyed Carl and Michonne, full of rage, made another unsuccessful lunge at the disgusting pedophile.
Michonne was terrified and crying. Rick was….dizzy. All he could really hear was a constant throbbing hissing sound inside his head. Rick was swaying slightly, and Carl thought his father was going to faint again and that scared the tyke.
"I am going to kill you with my machete," Rick uttered so quietly to Clyde that most barely heard him.
"No Rick. My sword is what is going to bring down that disgusting motherfucking piece of shit hog," Michonne corrected with a deadly calm, and a still dazed Rick just weirdly stood stationary and nodded.
Rick's eyes had gone glassy, and Shane and Darryl were worried.
"No you won't lady. Both of you will be dead long before it gets to that, leaving your poor boy at the mercy of Clyde," Joe laughed not caring what happened to Carl one way or another.
"MOM!" Carl shouted as he began to cry.
Rick and Darryl saw red at the sight of the nauseating claimer running his hands over Carl. Michonne was breathing hard and ready to attack, giving zero fucks if she had her weapon or not. She eyed her sword in the pile with the rest of their weapons, then eyed Clyde who was becoming way too familiar and inappropriate with her son. Rick had seemingly fully blacked out while still standing on his two feet, but that was only partially true. Only half of Rick was knocked out cold. His other half was buzzing. Rick lost all rationality and fully reverted to a primal state as he stood perfectly still, seemingly staring at nothing at all. There was nothing going on inside Rick's head except for violence, brutality, and savagery. Abe and DEM STREETS arrived just in time to witness a trance-like Rick fight back in such a manner that it would go down in infamy.
When Abe and Rosita reached the side road leading to the cabin, he slowed down and signaled to DEM STREETS they were near. Abe was perplexed as to why Deputy Noah and Atlanta PD pulled over off the main road and parked, but there was no time to stop and ask questions and instead followed the directions Darryl sent. Noah was anxious when he noticed Abe and DEM STREETS kept going to the location, but Rick was adamant that the deputies stay back until he gave the signal. Noah trusted that Rick knew best and so he nervously waited.
"There's the path Abe. Park behind those trees," Rosita instructed, and Abe pulled in behind a cruiser that was already parked behind the bushes.
"That must be Rick's vehicle," Abe muttered and placed his car in park, "you ready?"
"I am always ready babe," Rosita assured and jumped out of the passenger side of the car.
"Rosita, look. I know you can fight, but don't go in there proving shit, you hear me. I need you to be careful," Abe demanded with deep concern, already regretting bringing his wife along.
"I will Abe. I promise. I need you to not go in trying to prove shit either," Rosita countered, and Abe nodded and looked over at DEM STREETS who were walking towards him fully armed with their unique weapons.
"Where to?" Jerry asked anxiously ready to get Carl to safety.
"This way," Rosita answered and led the way.
As they jogged closer to the cabin, they all heard the ruckus before they saw it.
Abe was alarmed when he peeped through the trees and observed a struggling Carl being restrained by a particularly nasty looking man that seemed to be cuddling a crying Carl a little too closely. Michonne was barely being held back by a Claimer as she shouted and fought to get to her son.
"Is that a crossbow?" Mr. O'Malley asked incredulously as surveyed the weapons on the ground.
"This from the person with the nail gun?" Abe muttered and smirked when Mr. O'Malley held his weapon up with confidence.
Abe counted eight people. Six claimers plus Joe and Warren and all were standing and pointing their guns at Rick, Shane, Darryl, and Michonne.
"Is that a deputy pointing a gun at the other deputies? What the hell?" Jerry asked perplexed at what he was witnessing.
"Looks like it," Mr. Mohan observed.
Abe blew out his breath when he realized all their weapons were in a pile off to the side. The claimers seemed to have the upper hand and from what Abe could tell, every one of the claimers had a gun. Darryl and Shane both had guns pointed straight at their head by Warren and Wendall. And then, strangely, there was Rick, standing motionless and seemingly doing nothing. He was just upright and slightly swaying like he was in a vertical coma. Abe wondered what in the fuck was wrong with Rick.
"Where is Rick's father and Andrea? Deputy James said they had him too?" Abe whispered then told DEM STREETS to keep an eye out for any other Claimers thinking there were more holding Richard and Andrea hostage outside of their view.
"We need to charge in now. That big one that's holding Carl seems a little too familiar with him," Rosita spat gripping her knife extra tight as she watched Claimer Clyde seemingly try and snuggle with Carl.
"Yeah," Abe agreed.
Rosita was pissed that in her haste, she left her gun inside her purse in the car and only had her knife that she had been gripping tightly to her chest the whole drive over. She looked over to Abe, who had no weapon at all. He could have used her gun.
"Shit," Rosita uttered to herself.
Carl was fighting just as hard as his mother, but at the end of the day, the feisty little tyke only got a few licks in, and that is about all he could up against that disgusting grown ass man. Carl was too small, and Clyde was too big. Michonne was so enraged, the Claimer who was holding her doubted he could contain her much longer.
"All Right, on three, we move! You two go left around those trees in a surprise attack. I'm going right and Rosita you…." Abe commanded but he did not get to finish his instructions.
Abe, Rosita, and DEM STREETS took pause when Rick showed Joe, and every witness out there just who the hell Rick Grimes was when you fucked with his family.
Rick did not hesitate when he outwardly suddenly woke the fuck up and charged at Joe with no warning. Rick gave Joe a headbutt so hard, Shane would swear in court, with is right hand on the bible, that he heard Joe's skull crack. Joe was disoriented and Rick was about to give him another hard knock to his cranium, but Claimer Wendall rushed and held a gun to the back of Rick's head.
"Step back!" Claimer Wendell yelled with a shaky, panicked voice.
Joe's disorientation weaned enough for him to pull Rick into a bear hug to keep Rick from headbutting him again. Joe leaned his head back and held Rick tightly. Joe was still seeing stars but managed to laugh at Rick's predicament. Rick was desperate as he looked over at his son being held by that pedo-motherfucker, and when Joe mocked what Clyde was doing to Carl, Rick acted on pure, unadulterated, brutal instinct.
"What are you gonna do now sport," Joe chuckled confidently and faltered when he saw the hellfire in Rick's eyes.
Before Joe could finish laughing, Rick went in for the kill. Rick channeled every bit of strength he had in his entire body to one singular location, his teeth. Rick's mind went blank and the feral part of him was activated and tuned all the way the fuck up to a hundred. Only buzzing filled Rick's mind and all that was left of his brain at that moment was animalistic savagery.
Rick aggressively reared his head back, and ruthlessly bared his teeth and before Joe could even begin to fathom what Rick was about to do, Rick had already viciously sunk his teeth so deep into the side of Joe's neck, it ripped through the skin, shredded through the muscle, and sliced through Joe's carotid artery with such intensity that Joe could do nothing but let it happen. Rick was so deep in Joe's flesh, he could feel Joe's fleshy, wet tissue on his gums and the claimer's faltering heartbeat on his lips.
Rick clamped down harder making sure to get a good grip, clenching his teeth together securely, readying for his final savage act. Keeping his jaws tight, Rick forcefully yanked his head back so powerfully, and so rapidly, that a large sinewy chunk of Joe's neck meat was ripped out and lodged in Rick's mouth. Rick spat out the carnage and snarled inhumanly as he watched a stunned Joe place his hand on his throat in disbelief. Joe's blood was spraying in thick bursts out the side of his neck, and everyone stood in horrified silence as they watched Joe fall to the ground swimming in his own blood. The whole yard was motionless, everyone astonished with what they just witnessed. The Claimers stood with their weapons dropped to their sides, and the crew took advantage of their stupor and gained control of the situation.
Michonne acted first, darting for her sword, then taking a cue from Rick and swiftly spinning around to a dazed Clyde's side, and running her Katana straight through that pedophile motherfucker's neck. Like Rick, Michonne liked to keep her promises too, and now blood was spewing out of two men's throats like a fountain. Michonne grabbed Carl who stood frozen with his brows furrowed, staring at his father. Michonne pulled her son out of harm's way and ushered him inside the cabin. Outside the cabin, the chaos and carnage continued. One claimer finally snapped back to reality and raised his gun towards Rick, and Shane grabbed his shotgun and blew a large hole straight through the claimer's chest gusting him back at least ten feet. Shane looked over at Rick, who seemed to have gone back into a trance. Abe, who was stunned and watching everything in slow motion, jumped into action at Shane's demand.
"SOMEBODY GET RICK!" Shane shouted and was surprised when Abe rushed out from the trees towards Rick after shaking off his disbelief.
A claimer tried to prevent Abe from getting to Rick and nervously raised his gun. Rosita burst out from behind Abe and stabbed her knife through his radial artery in his forearm, then his femoral artery in his thigh, and lastly through his carotid in his neck in three swift motions. The Claimer was dead before he hit the ground. Rosita, being a medical examiner, knew where to cut for ultimate and fatal damage. Abe dragged Rick to the side, and when Rick looked at him, he seemed confused as to why Abe was there. Rick looked around, snapped out of his daze and the fire was lit in his eyes again. Despite Abe begging Rick to stand down after what just happened, Rick ran for his machete. He had a promise to keep. Abe ran for the gun that Rosita's multiple stab wound victim dropped then looked around for his wife. Abe breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Rosita dash inside the cabin.
Gunfire was now resounding, and Noah assumed that was the signal and jumped into action. T-Dog and Tara had arrived shortly before and the three deputies, and APD jumped in their vehicles and raced to the cabin. Darryl grabbed his crossbow and shot another claimer through the eye, and the second to the last claimer still alive dropped his gun and raised his hands in surrender.
"LAY DOWN ON THE GROUND AND PLACE YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEAD NOW MOTHERFUCKER! Shane shouted and the claimer quickly complied, especially after Mr. Mohan tackled him down in the dirt.
Warren was panicked and desperate. He raised his gun towards Rick ready to kill everyone and shoot his way out. Before he could aim straight, Warren hesitated for a slit second when the thought he heard a rapid-fire desk stapler, and before he could process the sound, eight nails were embedded in a straight line down the right side of his back, ass, and thigh, causing Warren to drop his gun and screech in extreme pain.
"WHAT THE FUCK!" Warren yelled and he tried to reach around to see what had struck him.
"It's 16-gauge nails you motherfucker," Mr. O'Malley shouted raising his nail gun in the air, "air-powered BITCH!"
With his face still half-drenched in blood and only halfway emerging from his walking coma, Rick sauntered slowly over to his red-handled machete, picked it up, and gently ran his fingers along the blade. Abe ran to Clyde when he noticed the molester was still alive, barely able to breath, but trying to reach for his gun that lay beside him in a last-ditch effort to save himself. Clyde grabbed Abe around the ankle and Jerry and Shiva went to work. In one clean, swift, heavy chop, Clyde's arm was severed from his body. Clyde would have yelled out in pain if he could, but he was too busy choking on the significant amount of blood that filled his mouth which prevented him from making any sound other than a sad, moist gurgle or the occasional squeal like the pig he was. After a few seconds, the soggy, sloshing sounds inside the swine's throat stopped forever.
"Damn Jerry, it's still gripping my leg like a gold-digger's hand on a million-dollar dick! Tight!" Abe hollered in amazement that the disembodied arm still possessed enough strength to grab hold.
Jerry kicked the arm away in revulsion, then walked to stand near Mr. Mohan who had his foot on top of the surrendering claimer.
"Get on your knees now Warren!" Shane ordered and Warren sniffed and laughed and did not comply, "LAY DOWN ON YOUR STOMACH AND PUT YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEAD! If you move an inch OTHERWISE, I will blow your damned head off."
"He's mine," Rick growled, and Warren was panicked, "I made him a promise."
'I knew you were a killer Rick. No better than me," Warren spat as Rick slowly approached the traitor deputy, "Let's prove it. I surrender. Now what?"
Rick narrowed his eyes at Warren, then continued towards the deputy as if his decision to end Warren's life had not changed. Wendell, who was hiding behind an old BBQ pit heard the sirens. He wanted to make a run for it and save his pitiful life but decided to wait for the most opportune moment.
After Michonne ran Carl inside the cabin, she was horrified to see Andrea trying desperately to stop the blood flowing out of the side of Rick's father. Rosita burst in shortly after and ran over and hugged Michonne and Carl, then kneeled down near Andrea. Rosita assessed Richard's wounds, and bit her lip. The odds of Richard surviving were slim to none unless paramedics rushed to the location within the next few minutes with miracle lifesaving equipment sent straight from Jesus. Rosita kept that to herself and studied Richard a little more closely.
"Andrea, are you okay?" Michonne asked when she noticed that her blond friend began sobbing.
"I'm just so glad y'all are here," Andrea cried then got herself together, "I'm good. But he isn't. What the hell is going on out there?" Andrea asked listening to all the gunfire, screaming, and now sirens in the distance, "Did y'all get them all? Are we safe?"
"The claimers had us dead to rights until Rick…" Michonne started and walked to the front window to see what was happening outside, and Carl finished her sentence.
"My dad saved us," Carl whispered still a little confused about how he felt watching his father rip the throat out of a man, "He bit his neck off and won."
"Bit?" Andrea asked confused and looked between Michonne and Rosita.
"Bit," Rosita affirmed incredulously, "A very BIG, MEATY bite."
Carl was still in shock not only over what he witnessed his father do, but also the yucky and terrified way Clyde made him feel. Michonne kneeled down face-to-face with her son and pulled him close.
"Baby, your father loves you so much that he was willing to do anything to make sure you stayed safe," Michonne assured, and Carl nodded his head and hugged his mother.
"I know mom. I was just really scared," Carl uttered and looked down at the man bleeding on the floor while Michonne walked with Carl back to the window.
"Well, it looks like they have it under control out there now," Michonne uttered and closed the curtain and walked over to Andrea, never once letting go of Carl.
"He stepped in to try and help when they put us in the van. They stabbed him in the side here," Andera pointed, "I don't know who he is. I have seen him around, but I don't even know his name. Once we got here, that big piece of shit kept trying to pull Carl away from me, but I held Carl tight Michonne. I did not let him go. This man stepped in front of Carl and me to stop him from getting Carl, and the bastard hit him in the head with that iron poker over there. Knocked him out. Now he's bleeding from his side and his head."
"His heart rate is slow, and jaw is clenching. I think he had a heart attack too," Rosita added, and she knew with that little addition, the slim was eliminated from his survival chances.
"That's Richard. Richard Grimes. Rick's father," Michonne informed and both Rosita and Andrea studied his face.
"I thought he looked more familiar than just me seeing him sitting on that bench downtown from time to time," Andrea uttered, and Rosita noticed the resemblance was strong between Richard, Rick, and Carl.
"He had a heart attack nine months ago. He is on medication," Michonne explained and did not know whether to hate the man for doing what he did to her all those years ago or appreciate him for stepping in to try and save her son.
Michonne figured she could do both at the same time. Michonne gazed at Richard. He looked old and not because he lay there wounded. Richard was fifty years old and looked like he was eighty. He had wrinkles and his hair was graying at a rate much faster than it should. Michonne supposed that was the consequence of living a bigoted and perjurious life. Living with hate in your heart and lies spilling from your mouth ages you faster than if one lived an honest, forgiving one. Michonne had no interest in sharing Richard's fate, so she kneeled down to help Andrea and Rosita stop the bleeding.
"Carl, you stay close," Michonne ordered, and Carl stayed at his mother's back and glared at the man that looked so much like him and his father.
"Is that my grandfather, mom?" Carl asked and Michonne only nodded.
"Andrea, you keep pressure on his side, it seems worse than his head," Rosita ordered looking around for another compress, "Can you find me a towel?"
Michonne spied one hanging off the oven handle and got up to grab it.
"Richard? Richard, can you hear me?" Michonne asked as she pressed the towel on the side of his head to try and stop the bleeding.
Michonne shook him a few times and Richard groaned and opened his eyes, but they appeared glazed and dim. Michonne kept calling his name to try and keep him awake because she feared if Richard closed his eyes one more time, he would never open them again.
"Richar…" Michonne started and jumped when she heard a gunshot.
Shane panicked when he saw Rick continue to move towards Warren who was goading Rick to kill him in cold blood while surrendering. Shane shot his gun in the air to try and snap Rick out of his rage and was anxious when Noah and APD pulled up to possibly witness Rick commit cold-blooded murder. T-Dog and Hershel were parking right behind them. When Michonne saw Rick with the machete in his hand, she told Carl to stay put and darted out of the cabin. That piece of shit Deputy Warren was supposed to be the law, but instead was just a common criminal who had been sharing details about her son with Joe. Details that almost got her son, molested, and killed. Michonne was pissed too. She was out for Randall Warren's blood just as much as Rick was.
"Rick, we are the law. Don't do something that you will regret," Shane pled, "Michonne, please go back inside the cabin. You and Rick need to think of Carl."
"They are," Darryl grunted and watched two predators approach its prey before jogging towards the cabin after he saw Carl peeking out of the window.
Darryl knocked on the window and pointed at Carl to move away. Rosita got up and moved Carl over to the couch. Darryl strolled to stand near Shane with his crossbow lifted. Rick and Michonne were in a ruthless rage and Warren made a very bad decision. Warren was in fight or flight mode, and with eight nails lodged in his body, flight was going to be more difficult than just picking up his gun and shooting. He would not get both, but Warren would be happy if he got either Rick or Michonne before he died. If shit went down, Shane wanted his bullet in Warren so there would be no questions asked about his brother and fiancé's part in Warren's death. Shane saw the flicker in Warren's eye, and the moment that motherfucker took a sudden and aggressive movement towards Rick and Michonne, everyone sprang into action. Warren picked up the gun next to him.
"GUN!" Noah shouted as he drew his service weapon and Shane aimed his shotgun at Warren.
As Warren lifted his arm to point the gun at Michonne, Rick sliced his hand clean off.
"MY HAND! YOU FUCKING SON OF A BITCH! MY HAND!" Warren screamed out in pain as he stared at his hand laying three feet from him in the dirt.
This was Wendell's chance and he darted from behind the pit, shot twice in the direction of the yard, and made a run for it. Darryl put an arrow through his shoulder and Shane blasted half of Wendell's head clean off with his shotgun. Shane took a deep breath, and as Warren lay on the ground wailing, APD ran over to the last Claimer and cuffed him allowing DEM STREETS to step aside to safety.
Michonne eyed DEM STREETS confused but smiled in recognition and nodded to them in appreciation before she walked over to Rick. She wondered what in the hell the three men were doing there but felt her heart swell that they were. She would find out why they were at the scene later, now she needed to share some bad news with Rick.
"Rick, your father," Michonne sighed snapping Rick out of his daze, "ABE! Someone hurt in the cabin!"
"On it!" Abe hollered, "But I don't know much I can do without my gear. SHIT! We have somebody hurt out here too!"
Abe ran over to Rick who was bleeding moderately from his shoulder, shot by one of Wendell's random bullets.
"RICK!" Michonne hollered eyeing Rick closely while Abe pulled back his shirt to view the wound.
"It looks like it's just a flesh wound. Went clean through the tip top of your shoulder," Abe stated with a huge breath of relief, "You don't feel that?"
"Adrenaline," Rick uttered as he took a few steps towards the cabin but was held back by Shane.
"Darryl, can you go inside and get a towel and maybe some soap? We need to get his face cleaned up and this wound wrapped, damn man," Shane retorted stopping Rick who was trying to go inside to Carl.
"I don't need to be cleaned up," Rick replied, and Darryl stopped and gawked unbelievably at Rick, "I need to make sure my family is all right. My boy is all right."
"You can't see yourself Rick, but Carl can. Let us clean you up before you go in there," Darryl pled, and Rick nodded.
Noah and the rest were standing and blankly surveying the scene in wonder. Shane snapped them to attention and hollered for them to detain Warren who seemed to have passed out. Shane heard sirens in the distance, and assumed it was the paramedics. Shane and Darryl walked Rick to the side of the house to the water hose. While Rick washed his face, Darryl ran inside to look for a clean shirt and some bandages. Finding a suitable t-shirt and a box of gauze and tape, he ran back out to Rick to clean him up until medical services arrived.
"Rick, before you go in there, Richard is barely conscious on the floor," Darryl informed, and Rick took off his bloodied uniform top and undershirt and replaced it with the T-shirt Darryl gave him.
When Rick entered the cabin, Abe had replaced both Andrea and Rosita at Richard's side. After Rick looked at his father, then at all the blood loss, and he knew Richard did not have long for this life, and that pained him. Rick knelt down beside his father and took his hand, and although he tried to keep control, a sound of sorrow escaped his throat, and a few tears escaped his eyes.
"He is a brave one Rick. Just like you. I'm sorry. I am so sorr…," Richard started then abruptly stopped.
"Just wait," Rick ordered but it was already too late.
Abe checked Richard's pulse and shook his head. Rick's father was dead.
Michonne hugged Rick from behind and encouraged Rick to say his last goodbyes to his father, then asked everyone to give Rick a moment alone. Rick grabbed Michonne's hand and clutched it tightly. Rick did not need to be alone. He needed his family and said his final goodbyes to his father who at the end, did one thing right and died for his grandson. For Rick, it was a difficult moment because for a year, he hated Richard's guts, but for twenty-five years before that, he loved his father with all his heart. Rick let the hate that consumed him the last nine months slip away as he forgave the man that raised him and was instrumental in saving Carl's life. After a few moments, Abe entered the room with a sheet, and he covered Richard's body while Michonne walked Rick and Carl out of the cabin. By the time they reached the porch, the deputies, APD and paramedics were trying to figure out where to start. Michonne walked her family up to DEM STREETS who were huddled together talking amongst themselves.
"Mr. Mohan?" Mr. O'Malley?" Mr. Andrews?" Michonne greeted ready to give them a proper thank you.
"You can call me Jerry Mrs. Hawthorne. I apologize about the twinkie fiasco by the way. My son is here too, but I made Ezra stay back in the car because his decision-making is iffy sometimes. My son does not think things all that way though," Jerry laughed.
"And my son thinks way too meticulously! Perfect pair," Laughed Michonne, "Rick, these guys have businesses on the same block as my Condo. Pawnshop, Hardware store, and Grocery store," Michonne introduced indicating the businesses they owned.
Rick was confused also as to why they were there but shook hands and got each of their names, then introduced himself. After DEM STREETS told Rick and Michonne how they watched out for Carl, Rick was stunned and Michonne cried and hugged each one of them.
"Hey, we all love that kid!" Jerry exclaimed, "Don't cry ma'am."
That made Michonne cry harder and hug them tighter. Once she got herself together, her eyes got big.
"I know this is weird timing, but Carl's birthday party is in two weeks. I would love it if you and your families could join us!" Michonne offered, "Rick are we still going to have the party after all of this?"
"Let's talk about it when we get home. Talk to Carl. But if and when we do, I would be honored if you would come celebrate Carl with us," Rick offered with a grin.
"Oh, Carl already invited us. We were already coming," Mr. Mohan replied with a smile, "Will you let us know what you decide?"
"Will do," Michonne smiled and watched the paramedic pull up to the gruesome scene.
"Rick, we are taking your father down to the morgue. You might want to get your mother and head over," Hershel suggested, and Rick nodded and looked to Michonne, "John! Come over here and look at Rick's shoulder!"
"I'm fine Hershel," Rick uttered.
"You are not fine. You were shot Rick. Besides, we need to document it. JOHN!" The Sherriff called again, and Rick rolled his eyes.
While the paramedic was disinfecting and dressing Rick's surface wound, Rick asked about the status of the rest of the Claimers.
"Is that the last of them?" Rick asked as he lifted his chin at the Claimer sitting in the back of the deputy cruiser.
"Deputy Douglass said one is in custody in Manville. Sheriff Duffy called a bit ago saying they caught the last member of the gang trying to cross the state lines. The man cursed Joe's name before he pulled his gun. Duffy returned fire and shot him dead. "That one there," Hershel pointed at the Claimer in the cruiser, "Is going away for a long time. Warren even longer."
Rick eyed the Claimer sitting cuffed in the back of the car, then at the paramedics who were placing an unconscious Warren on the stretcher.
"I hope so for their sake," Rick uttered watching them lift Warren off the ground.
"Don't worry Rick. Now go and get your mama," Hershel commanded as he walked over to the coroner who was wondering how he was going to transport all the bodies.
"Warren was Joe's bitch, and I have a sneaking suspicion that he is gonna be a prison bitch too," Shane chuckled and slapped Rick on the back of his shoulder and Rick winced, "Oh, damn. Sorry brother. My bad."
Rosita was speaking with the coroner, and both were having a lively discussion and Abe wondered what they were talking so animatedly about. Abe figured they were giddy about the dead and rolled his eyes. Abe looked around the yard incredulously and noticed something suspicious. While the paramedic was bent over and reaching into his medical bag, Warren seemed to have regained consciousness and was angrily gazing directly at Rick's back. Abe shouted Rick's name right as Warren lunged off the stretcher grabbing a nearby APD officer's holstered gun.
"RICK!" Abe shouted and ran towards his friend.
"FUCK YOU ASSHOLE! I AINT GOING TO PRISON FOR NOTHING!" Warren shouted in a rage.
Rick pushed Michonne and Carl out of the way and eyed his machete. Rick dove for his weapon and Warren shot and missed. Instead, the bullet whizzed by Rick shattering the side window of T-Dog's cruiser hitting the fourth claimer straight through his temple. Warren's easy, close range shot failed because Mr. O'Malley shot a final nail in the back of Warren's head right before the traitorous deputy pulled the trigger thus sending the bullet off course. Warren was stuttering incoherently on his knees and waving the gun around precariously shooting off random bullets when Rick slammed his machete straight through the top of his skull in an effort to stop the random gunfire.
"Promise kept," Rick whispered to Warren who was dead on his knees with his skull split in two.
"RICK!" Michonne shouted but he held up his hand for her to stay back with Carl.
"GODDAMMED. Now I got blood in the seats!" T-Dog hollered as he walked over to his cruiser, "Is that brain on my headrest? Hell Naw! Hey Sherriff, I'm gonna need a whole new vehicle. "
"I just cleaned your ass up Rick! Now you got blood splattered all over you again. Damn, are you a magnet for hemoglobin?" Laughed Shane standing with his hands on his hips and shaking his head at the scene, "Darryl, go get another damn shirt please!"
Rick now wanted all of the threats gone. Including the Mayor.
"What about Greggory?" Rick asked as he placed his foot on Warren's chest and yanked his machete out from Warren's head.
"Rick," Hershel muttered in revulsion listening to the sticky sound of the machete being removed.
"What?" Rick replied cluelessly and looked at Warren who had fallen forward head-first in the dirt.
After Hershel got his bearings, he informed Rick that the FBI were coming to confiscate all of the mayor's computers.
"Greggory had his personal computer with him, so we took that and his personal cell phone too. He is in the hospital now. They will turn him over once he has all clear."
"Think they will find anything?" Rick asked hoping Greggory would not escape punishment for his part in kidnapping Carl.
"They found all sorts of communication between him a Joe on his phone. FBI was already investigating him along with Joe and the Claimers, so I am sure they will find what they need to arrest Greggory on a multitude of charges," Hershel informed.
"I will send them my file too. I have been looking for a way to trace some personal office space Greggory purchased with city money. He used a fake name and fake organization. I am sure the FBI will do a much better job with it than I could," Andrea added and walked over to Michonne and Carl.
"Now take Carl and Michonne to the farm and go get your mama. Ella should hear about Richard's death from you Rick and not through the grapevine. I told her what happened to Carl, and she is a nervous wreck. Letty and Sasha went to the house to sit with her. Tyrese is at the station giving his statement along with the other witnesses. Bud too. Oh, the claimer that shot Greggory is in the morgue. Looks like those cold, metal drawers will be at capacity today. Hell, might have to double up," Hershel informed then joined Rosita and the coroner. After Darryl and Shane cleaned Rick up a second time, Rick prepared to drive his family and Rosita to the farm.
"Hey, can I stay with you all at the farm tonight?" Andrea asked and Rick nodded.
"Of course," Rick answered.
"Andrea can ride to the station with me so she can give her statement first, then I will drop her off at the farm after. That, ok?" Shane asked Andrea who agreed.
When Rick arrived at the farm, Ella, Sasha, and Letty were waiting on the porch. Sasha had already filled the ladies in on what she knew, and Hershel called and told them the rest, everything except for what happened to Richard, and that infamous bite. Ella was anxious as the three ladies paced on the porch worried to death about Carl. When they saw Carl bound out of the car, Ella, Sasha, and Letty ran to Carl and almost smothered the boy.
"My baby!" Sasha hollered hugging her nephew tightly.
"CARL!" Letty exclaimed and kissed his forehead.
"You, ok?" Ella asked her grandson and looked him over for any sign of harm, hugged him, looked him over again, and hugged him one more time and kissed both of his cheeks.
"I am, but Dad got shot! AND He bit the bad guy's neck off! Like this!" Carl eagerly shared then growled and clamped his teeth together vigorously shaking his head back and forth, over and over like a hungry zombie and Ella just about fell over.
"CARL!" Michonne hollered mortified.
Michonne grabbed her son by the arm to stop his reenactment and shook her head NO before looking sympathetically at Rick. Rick elevator eyed Carl and refocused on Ella.
"Shot? Neck? What?" Ella asked in amazement.
"He will be fine mama, and I'm fine too. It was just a surface wound. It went clean through. And I will explain the neck thang later," Rick promised before a dumbfounded Ella could make a fuss.
"A bullet went clean through you Rick! You are NOT FINE! Where?" Ella asked and scanned her son with her eyes and hands.
"Mama, it's fine. But you and I need to get going. The faster we get there, the faster we can get back to Carl. You think you are ready enough to leave right now?" Rick asked and Ella was confused.
Ella wanted to stay and help tend to Carl. And now to Rick too!
"Why do I need to go to the station?" Ella asked again bewilderedly and watched Sasha, Rosita, and Letty take Carl into the house to get settled.
Michonne whispered to Rick asking if he wanted her to go with him and Ella, but Rick declined and told her it was something that he and his mama needed to close alone. Rick wanted Michonne to focus on herself and Carl and promised he would be back as soon as he could.
"We are not going to the station mama. We need to talk about something in the car on the way to where we're going," Rick answered and that worried Ella even more.
About a mile down the road, Rick had to pull over and get out of the car to ease his mother. They stayed on the side of the road embraced for several minutes before they resumed their trip to the morgue. While Rick was driving his mother down to the morgue, Abe and Darryl made sure DEM STREETS got off to Atlanta safely after their interview with APD and Hershel. Tyrese followed DEM STREETS back to Atlanta to fill in his anxious wife Karen and his parents to assure them that Carl and Michonne were safe. Shane drove Andrea to the Green farm after stopping by her apartment for a change of clothes.
"I need my bags. They are still in my car at the law office," Michonne uttered, and Shane who was just about to head back to the station offered to take her get her car.
"Thanks," Michonne expressed gratefully and texted Rick to let him know.
RICK: If you can wait, I will take you when I get back.
Michonne: Carl and I want to shower Rick. I will be fine. I will call you once I am headed back.
RICK: Carl wants to shower?
Michonne: Well I want to shower, and Ialsowant Carl to shower.
Rick: Ok, call me when you get to your car, when you leave, and when you make it back to the farm too.
Michonne: Ok lol.
Rick: Just please go straight back to the farm. No stops. NO LOL!
Michonne: Ok lmao.
Rick rolled his eyes at his sassy fiancé. During the car ride, Shane wanted to get something off of his chest.
"I know I said this before Michonne," Shane started but Michonne interrupted.
"Shane, if you apologize one more time, I will literally hurt you. You saw me swinging my sword back there. You know I can do it!" Michonne smiled and Shane chuckled.
Michonne and Shane had talked several times about the past, both good and bad. Shane at first could only stutter heartfelt apologies, and Michonne forgave him each and every time. Over the last few months since Shane moved back to King County, they would reminisce on all the foolish pranks and silly behaviors she witnessed from Rick and Shane. Michonne appreciated their quiet friendship and was always appreciative that her and Rick's interracial relationship was never an issue when they were young. Michonne met Lori a few times and although Michonne felt some type of way about her being the first Mrs. Rick Grimes, she actively tried to move past it by offering the pair some cute baby names, two of which Lori loved if it was a boy. But there was still something awkward between the two women that would probably take a considerable amount of time to get over.
"Now see, I wasn't even gonna apologize this time," Shane grinned, "I was just gonna say, ONCE AGAIN, that the names you suggested for my boy are unacceptable Michonne. I can't believe you put that in Lori's head like that. It's me that needs the apology from you!"
"What's wrong with Hudson?" Michonne exclaimed.
"It's a dirty ass River Michonne. And Sawyer? Lori likes that mess too! Man, might as well call him huckleberry!" Shane muttered as shook his head.
"Well I can't take it back Shane. What would you like me to do?" Michonne asked with feigned interest in trying to make it right.
"Next time you see Lori, tell her you decided those are the worst names ever, WHICH THEY ARE! And convince her to name him Shane Jr.," Shane requested and Michonne chuckled.
"Can this world handle another Shane Walsh?" Michonne asked in jest.
"It can if you hurry and have a Rick Jr.!" Shane responded with a grin.
"Oh shit," Michonne whispered to herself finally remembering about those three little positive sticks and that a little Rick or Rickette was cooking away in her belly.
Michonne figured one crisis at a time was enough and was determined to get one son through a disaster before she acknowledged the child that was not even born yet. She decided to let stuff and thangs settle before she had the talk with Rick. Time to give Rick and Ella a chance to mourn and Carl an opportunity to heal psychologically. Michonne resolved to at least get through Carl's birthday party in two weeks before she sprung the unexpected and emotional news on them all. Informing everyone now would have been just too much.
That evening, Carl snuggled in between his mother and father, and all were asleep except for Rick whose mind was racing. A lot happened in the last twelve hours and Rick was tempted to wake Michonne and discuss a few things like why she was in King County in the first place, but when he looked over at her, she looked so peaceful that he could not bring himself to wake her. Rick laid his head on his pillow and let his mind roam until it finally shut down.
"Dad, Dad," Carl called as he pushed on his father's arm to wake him up.
Rick woke with a jolt, looked over at Michonne who had not moved a muscle since he last observed her, then squinted at the clock. It was 2am.
"Yeah, you okay Carl?" Rick asked worriedly.
"I have some questions. Mom said that man was my grandfather. Was that your dad?" Carl asked and Rick rose from the bed and reached out his hand for his son to take.
"Come on, let's not wake your mama. You like warm milk?" Rick asked as Carl took his father's hand and scooted out of the bed.
"I like warm milk with chocolate in it and marshmallows floating on the top." Carl answered and looked up at his father with a smirk.
"So hot cocoa then?" Rick asked amusedly.
"I mean, if you want to call it that," Carl chuckled.
"Well, let's see what we got," Rick laughed as he looked through the cabinets and found some powdered cocoa and a bag of marshmallows leftover from the sweet potato dish from Easter dinner.
Rick grabbed a pot and filled it with milk and the chocolate and as he stirred, he answered his son's questions. Rick told Carl an abridged, child-friendly version of how he and his mother met and how Richard had a hand in separating them. Rick did not go into detail but gave enough information to satisfy his son. When Rick went to grab two mugs, he looked over at Carl and chuckled.
"Did you lose your shirt buddy?" Rick grinned at Carl who had removed his spider man pajama top and was sitting just as bare chested as Rick.
"I figured it's just two men shooting the breeze. I thought I would dress the part," Carl answered as he eyed his father's choice of bed attire.
Rick laughed and poured the cocoa into the mugs and added the marshmallows. They sat for a few minutes, father, and son, sipping on the hot cocoa in the middle of the night.
"You, ok? I mean about what happened today?" Rick glanced at the time displayed on the microwave tucked into the corner of the counter, "Or yesterday, I guess. Me and your mother talked and thought it might be good if we all saw a therapist and talk about everythang that happened."
Carl thought a minute and took a sip of his cocoa in reflection.
"I was scared, especially when they threw me in the van. I didn't think that I would ever see my mom again or you. That weird big guy really scared me and made me feel sick to my stomach. I felt a little better with Aunt Andrea there," Carl admitted, and Rick immediately knew Clyde's immoral actions was the first thing they needed to work through with the therapist as a family.
Rick was pissed they even had to have that discussion with an eight-year-old. Rick shook off his anger and focused back on his conversation with Carl.
"Aunt Andrea?" Rick asked curiously thinking of the blond that was bunking with Beth for the night, "You got another aunt now?"
"Well Dad, she really protected me. When I was being thrown in the van, she ran over and tried to fight them. Then she was cursing at them even after they got her too," Carl grinned a sly grin, "Do you want me to tell you the words she used?"
"No, I will just use my imagination. And you erase them from your brain Carl," Rick grinned and shook his head.
"Then she hugged me and kept me close, away from that guy in the back of the van. She was giving him the evil eye dad, for real!" Carl laughed, "I think he was scared of her!"
"Really?" Show me what she looked like Rick chuckled as he took another sip of his warm drink.
Carl squinted his eyes, pursed his lips, and scrunched his nose in an effort to mimic what Andrea looked like.
"Like this dad," Carl uttered through his on-point impression, "and when that big guy tried to pull me away in the cabin, Aunt Andrea, and grandpa," Carl eyed Rick to see how he felt about using the term and found his father's face to be neutral, "stepped in front of me and tried to fight him off, but he hit grandpa in the head. He left me alone after that until later when you were there. I was scared again, but then I saw you."
"I'm sorry all this happened to you Carl," Rick uttered sadly and pulled his son close and kissed him on top of his head.
"I know dad. When I saw Mom and you and Uncle Darry and, I guess Uncle Shane," Carl stopped and Rick nodded affirmation, "I felt like everything was going to be ok, "especially when I saw mom swinging her sword. That's when I really knew those guys were in trouble."
"Is that so?" Rick grinned remembering when he first saw Michonne waving around the sword back in front of her new law office.
Rick took a drink of cocoa to disguise his pink face. If it had not been such a dire situation, he would have pulled Michonne into her new office and ravaged her. Rick made a mental note to do some role playing with her sword. Rick started thinking of himself as the gun-toting hero in the middle of a zombie apocalypse with his trusty colt and Michonne by his side fighting the creatures off with her katana. Then they would find a secluded cabin to clean themselves up and then he would grab her naked ass and pull her, Rick did not get to finish his daydream because Carl knocked him from his naughty thoughts.
"That is so, Dad. Can I see your bullet wound? I can't believe you got shot! DAD? DAD? Did you hear me?" Carl asked perplexedly, "Can I see your bullet hole?"
"Yeah, Yeah son, Uhh I mean no. It's bandaged up. You can see it later," Rick smiled tightly, embarrassed that he drifted off thinking about his fiancé naked while talking to his son.
"Ok. When you…. did what you did," Carl paused and looked at his father, "I mean, who would mess with us after that?" Carl added and Rick looked down at his feet.
"Carl, that was…" Rick started but was interrupted by his son.
"Dad, you did what you needed to do to protect me. It makes me feel safe that you can. Mom too," Carl reflected and gulped down the rest of his cooled down cocoa, "And then when I saw Uncle Abe, and Rosita, and Mr. Andrews, and Mr. Mohan, and Mr. O'Malley and his cool nail gun, can I get a nail gun dad!"
"No," Rick chuckled when Carl pouted.
"Can I get an axe?" Carl tried again.
"Nope," Rick answered with a laugh.
"Anyway, I knew right then that I have so many people who want to protect me that I could not help but to be ok," Carl explained, "But we can go to the therapist if you and mom need it."
Rick was stunned at the depth of Carl's thought process. He did not know many, if any, kids his age that understood the stuff and thangs that Carl did. Rick attested it to him having to be privy to situations of a young mother and her kid. But Carl was still a child, and Rick was sure therapy would be a good thang whether Carl knew it or not.
"All right," Rick uttered, "You getting sleepy yet?"
"Maybe one more cup and then I will be good and sleepy, extra marshmallows please," Carl negotiated, and Rick grinned at his son always trying to make a deal.
Rick got up to refill his son's mug when Michonne appeared.
"Nope, you had enough Carl. It's time for bed," Michonne ordered then shook her head at her easy fiancé.
Michonne thought this might be a good time to ask Carl about his party.
"Carl, your birthday party. How do you fell about it?" Michonne asked and Carl reared his head back at his mother.
"Are we cancelling it?" Carl asked anxiously as Michonne took the mugs and the pot to the sink and ran some soapy water.
"That's up to you Carl. And Rick," Michonne eyed knowing Rick just lost his father and there would be a funeral soon.
"I want to have it, if that is ok," Carl plead hoping he could still have his FARM LIFE themed party, "You think Grams would be okay with it?"
"Well, I think we can still have it, and I will talk to mama in the morning about it," Rick answered as he went to help Michonne place the pots and cups on the rack to dry.
Carl nodded and went to the pantry and looked around for a bit, and panicked when he did not see what he was looking for.
"DAD! It's Saturday! Did you get the sugary cereal?" Carl asked with wide, rattled eyes.
Michonne did not protest. She wanted her son to get back to some semblance of routine, sugar or not.
"Of course, son," Rick walked over and pulled out the mini variety boxes from the top shelf of the pantry to show a relieved Carl, "now come on. Your mama is giving us the same face your Aunt Andrea gave those men," Rick chuckled and saw Michonne brow furrow at the name, "I'll tell you later."
"Carl, where is your shirt?" Michonne giggled at her bare-chested son.
"Dad and I were having a talk and it required us to be shirt free mom," Carl answered with pride puffing out his little chest.
"Well, you make sure you put your big boy spiderman top back on. It gets chilly at night," Michonne giggled as she climbed the stairs behind her son who ran into the room and jumped into the middle of the bed.
"Sorry I'm keeping you and Dad from doing parent stuff," Carl chuckled apologizing for having to sleep in the room with them because of all the extra people at the farm.
Darryl and Sasha were still living in the guest room, and Rick moved into Maggie's room. Maggie, when she was home, bunked with Beth. Carl had taken to sleeping on the air mattress in the den when he and his mother were visiting, but with Rosita and Abe deciding to stay till morning, they had dibs on the den and the air mattress. Michonne and Rick knew even if the den was available, Carl would still sleep with them because, after all the drama, Carl was scared to sleep alone. Rick and Michonne were fine with their son bunking with them for as long as Carl needed to. It also solidified that all three needed therapy.
"What kind of parent stuff are you talking about young man?" Michonne asked, highly alarmed as she sat on the edge of the bed.
"Kissing," Carl whispered and turned a little red as he looked between Rick and Michonne.
Michonne leaned over and kissed Carl all over his face and he giggled.
"Not like that mom, you know like this," Carl clarified and puckered his lips and closed his eyes and twisted and turned his neck from left to right.
"Carl, go to sleep," Rick uttered and gave Michonne a peck on the lips before walking to his side of the bed and sliding under the covers.
"Ok, but you both like to pull me too close!" Carl exclaimed and Rick pulled his son into a tight hug.
"You mean like this?" Rick asked and Carl giggled.
Michonne shook her head, puffed her pillows, and closed her eyes. After all the midnight discussions, Rick had forgotten to ask why Michonne came to King County in the first place. He was just grateful that her and Carl were there, safe and sound. Michonne was relieved. A few minutes later, Carl was sound asleep, but Rick was still awake, and he knew Michonne was also with all her tossing and turning. When she was really sleep, Michonne slept like the dead.
"Tell me about your attack in college Michonne," Rick whispered bracing himself for the story.
"Oh Rick, tomorrow maybe, it's not as bad as it sounds. I promise. Let's end the night on a lighter note so we can sleep peacefully," Michonne requested, "Ask me one question about the past, but an easy one.
Rick thought for a minute and smiled. He looked at his son and back at Michonne who was lying on her side facing him with Carl in between.
"You said you had a lot of interesting jobs over the last eight years. What was the most interesting. The weirdest?" Rick asked with a grin.
Michonne thought for a minute and smiled.
"Oh that's easy, that would have to be my job at the strip club, Rick," Michonne answered and turned her back to Rick with a giggle.
"WHAT! YOU WERE A STRIPPER MICHONNE!" Rick hollered and Carl sat straight up in the bed.
"WHAT'S GOING ON?" Carl hollered unnerved at being awoken so suddenly.
"Sorry Carl, go back to sleep. I must have been dreaming and hollered in my sleep," Rick lied and looked at Michonne whose back was now to Rick, and she was playing possum.
Carl fell back into a deep slumber almost immediately, but Rick was woke the hell up. Rick eyed Michonne all night and did not get a wink of sleep.
