Uncontrollable giggling kept the silent morning in the Master Bedroom intimate and warm despite the mischief and high-pitched; occasionally a deep gentle shush follows, gruff and wanting to keep the woman beside him as quiet as possible.

"G'morning..." Maxine gives out a sleepy smile when Rick divert his attention away from her smiling lips to her enticing neck.

Four years. Four years since they have first met. Three since they've started living together and nearly two years since they've married— and it was a glorious married life!

Her husband gave out a groan, mumbling his morning greetings but didn't stop giving his attention right on the curve of her neck. This time, Maxine was the one to moan. A breathy sigh came out of her lips as she pushes Rick's head slightly back to gaze at him with dark eyes. God, those eyes of his are to die for!

"Now?" Leaving her question unanswered, Rick opted to only leave a smirk on his lips and places a chaste kiss on her lips; letting his hand drift and graze over her sides. The two continue to kiss, Maxine now and then gives out a shrill shock when he touched somewhere ticklish— Rick having chuckled every time she jumps in his touch.

She and him kept their touch intimate, not going too far especially when they heard the sound of quick footsteps coming up the stairs and knocks into their room. "Mom? Dad?"

With wide smiles, Maxine took the edge of their blanket and covered themselves— hiding in plain sight. "You know that won't stop 'im?" Rick chuckles and Maxine this time was the one to shush. They both laughed silly when the door to their room opened with a twelve-year old Carl, planning on waking them both up— already prepared for his school.

"Mom? Dad? It's time for school!" Carl frowned when he saw the lumped figure of the bed blankets— quickly snatching it off without a thought and immediately cringed in disgust at the sight of his giggly parents. "Gross! Were you two kissing again? "

With a dead panned look, Carl crossed his arms— his brows raised completely replicating the image of his father. "It's time for my school. You two need to get up!"

Rick watched his son with an amused brow while Maxine slyly bit her lip and sat up at the same moment Carl was about to walk away and pulled him in under the covers. "Oh no you don't!" Maxine tickles Carl with her own grin, wrapping her arms and legs around the poor boy to make sure he cannot escape when Carl started to convulse in hysterical laughter. Rick joining in and keeping his weight controlled— Carl giving out a loud snickering howl and grin on his face as his parents kept tickling him—The three hugging and laughing.

"Guys! AHAHA stop!" Hugging Carl snug and tight, Maxine voices out, "Why don't we all just stay in the house for the day? Eat popcorn, watch movies or just sleep and lay down all day? Hm? What do you say to having a lazy day?"

Carl was in but Rick chuckled and kissed their foreheads lovingly with an amused glint in his crystal blue eyes. "As much as I want to stay, I have work."

He ignored the 'Boo's from his favorite people.

Maxine and Carl looked at him pleading. "Then Carl and I could have a lazy day instead! We don't need you!"

Rick laughs, ruffling Carl's already unruly hair. "As fun as it sounds," Plucking Maxine's hands off of Carl, who whined along with Maxine as their sense of warmth disappeared. "Carl still has school."

"Well, school is boring! Staying at home is much enjoyable!"

Rick nudges a reluctantly Carl out of the room but the boy decided to instead go to the side where he went to greet someone special and new to the family,

The situation between him and his ex-wife, Lori is still a touchy topic— not because Rick hasn't moved on, he has his wife to thank for that— but because of how Lori left every thing between them unresolved. He— they were young when they married, at a ripe age of 25, two years after finishing College—altogether due to the news of Lori's pregnancy with Carl. Even Rick admits that it was all too quick for them both, so early in their relationship and at the start of their life, he guesses that is what led to their downfall. They tried to stay strong, Rick tried as much as he can to lessen their conflicts but often times he does not get out from the house too early and another fight between them ensues. Rick was okay with working it out. All for Carl.

Yet it wasn't until Carl turned 3 did Lori up and left. Crying and sobbing on how she couldn't take it much longer, saying that the life they had was not what she wished and left them both.

That was an awful year for Rick— standing up to be both mother and father to his son at such a young age and continue to provide every thing they would need. It got to him whenever he would come home exhausted and couldn't play with his son or help him with his homework. It got to him whenever all they could eat was foods unhealthy for a boy at Carl's age. But he managed. Soon he got used to it. Later on, he met her. His wife.

Rick widely grinned at his wife. Leaning close to place once again placing chaste kiss on her lips, he too was already dressed for work— and like Carl earlier, Rick was dragged under the covers when all he wanted was a goodbye kiss before he go. His wife playfully adamant on having him stay.

She gave him fire and hope. The past complaints of her neighbors about noise was a blessing in disguise for him, because that is how he met Maxine. She was the other half that kept him together— his rock; reasoning; and love. Oh, how he loves her so!

"Rick, I'm tired!" Maxine laughs as she pushes him slightly back but Rick continued to place kisses on her jaw and neck, even nipping. "Okay, maybe I can make an exception..." Rick heard her mutter with a breathy whisper making him laugh once more. Carl vocally voicing his disgust to remind the two he was still there.

Pulling back, Rick smiled at her disappointed look, she was about to ask why he stopped but the sight of his thoughtful expression made her pause, letting him take his time to voice his thoughts.

Her hair finally tamed and runs a few inches below her shoulders, unbounded and wavy brown. With the right lighting, her eyes resembled pools of coffee, he loved to drink on a cold comfy morning. With a gaze so warm, so comforting and humble, Rick would want nothing more but to keep staring at his beautiful wife.

"I adore you... So much..."

Maxine lifted her eyes to gaze at Rick's. Charmingly dreamy and intense— her playful gaze softened more to equally sincere affection but before she could give her usual reply, a cry went out.

Maxine letting out a groan, as their newborn daughter called out for her food service. "Someone's up."

"She looks cranky." Carl states as he keeps his eyes on his baby sister. Maxine and Rick letting out a smile at his words.

Only a year after their marriage, they received a miracle. Maxine was told by a doctor that she has problems producing healthy eggs and has a low count of it, it couldn't be a problem over Rick's as he produced Carl very well so it was Maxine's. Her condition made it harder for them to conceive. Not impossible, just difficult— after trying and trying, they finally won! A healthy baby girl, no diseases or illnesses or anything abnormal. A beautiful healthy baby girl. Their lucky charm.

Rick moved over to letting his wife stand up, knowing the woman would want to move by herself and make her way towards the crib just beside them. Their newborn baby girl just a few days old, her hair brunette like her mother's and eyes the brightest blue Rick has ever seen. They named her Charmaine,

Charmaine Grimes. Their angel and charm.

And at the sight of the two girls in front of him with his son greeting his sister a bright good morning, Rick promised to protect them both— to protect his family no matter the cost.

It was such a shame after that, where one shot of a bullet threatened that promise.

"Hey, bud… We're still here. We're still hanging in..." Shane steps in Rick's view, the sight of his friend slightly blurred and dizzying but he held on to that as Shane showed him a handful of flowers perked on a vase. "Look, I'm sorry, man. I mean watching the same crap every time I come in here. Everybody pitched in on these. They uh… They wanted me to bring them down, they send their love and they just… They hope you come back real soon. Linda and Diane from dispatch, they picked these out. You probably could tell, hmm? I'll just set this on your side table, Ok?"

Shane sits the vase on the drawer next to the hospital bed, stepping out of Rick's sight and soon he let out a cough. His first sign of life, "That vase has something special. Fess up. Did you steal it from your Grandma Gene's house?" Rick heaved a dry laugh, his throat contracting hard from the lack of water. "I hope you left her that spoon collection."

When none replied, Rick furrowed his brows and weakly turned his gaze to the side where Shane placed his vase. He looks over on the table, the freshly picked flowers that he saw not dead and dried out— crumbling in his fingers with a simple touch.

"Shane, you in the john?" Once again no reply. He was starting to worry— confused especially. Was this some sort of prank?

"Maxine? Carl? Shane?" Rick coughs in turns of their names, his throat quickly needing something to drink. Plucking out the needles embedded in his arms, Rick decided to get out of the hospital bed but his knees buckled from the sudden weight of his body and he fell to the ground with a wincing groan.

"Nurse, help!" Rick calls out but none came. "Nurse! Help!"

Come on, Rick you can do this. You can do this. Rick finally manages to get up on his own after a few more tries— his body finally getting the hang of being used once more and heads into the bathroom to try the faucet sink.

Yet at the moment Rick stepped out of his room, it was like he was on a whole different world. The hospital was in a pile of mess, lights of the hallway continued to flicker, several beds overturned and papers scattered all over. The walls were painted with both bullet holes and blood all over, like a shootout has passed through; he noticed even a few pieces of flesh here and there.

None of it was making any sense as he walks down into the back parking lot, Rick sees hundreds of bodies all strewn across the parking lot wrapped in body bags. Flies hovering around them.

Rick didn't know how to process such a gruesome scene. He had seen gore and lot of gruesome murder crime scenes in his job, but none of them could match up to the sight of piled bodies laid out of the hospital parking lot with a helicopter and a few military tents set up, all empty and left abandoned.

Finally reaching the street, Rick grabs a hold of a bicycle left on the side. He picks it up but the sight of a mutilated corpse made him hesitate, Rick didn't know why but he didn't trust the body. His heart started to quicken as he kept it in his gaze while moving the bicycle closer to him— only for him to jump in fright when said corpse actually moved.

"Jesus— what..!" It's a dead woman, missing her legs more like half her lower body was cut off. She crawls with hoarse moans— reaching out bloody boned fingers towards Rick, but he jumps on the bike and rides away. Not once looking back, in fear of seeing it again. It's a dream. A hallucination. A prank. Anything!

Rick kept pedaling he felt a breath of comfort hug him as the sight of his home made it in his sights. It looked calm, untouched. For a second, it made Rick believe that everything was okay. That he would see his wife perched and laying down on the couch watching T.V with their daughter sighting on her chest and giggling along the animation that she cannot understand, while Carl would be coming out of the kitchen with their food. Smiling along as he kept glancing back on the T.V but focused more on providing food for his mom and sister while dad's away. All three of them would smile as they greet him a 'Welcome home!'

But that was not the sight that greeted him. His wife didn't look away T.V and greeted him with a smile as she can't actually jump him with their baby on her chest. His newborn baby wouldn't be there to smile at him as he would soon carry her the moment he passed the doors— nor did Carl smile brightly at him and greeted him a 'Welcome home!'

None. Nobody was home.

And that by far, scared him even more. "Maxine! Baby! Carl! Carl! Maxine!" Rick called out, running around their house to try and look for his family as though they were hiding from him. With teary eyes he continued to call, but they are nowhere to be found.

Rick didn't realize his knees buckled and fell onto the ground as he continued to sob. "Is this real? Am I here?"

Lifting his hand, Rick starts smacking himself. "Wake, wake up!" But it was all for naught. He was still there,

Out of frustration— his questions unanswered and left with more questions— Rick walks out onto the steps of his house, sitting down on the ground with no hope of where to go. He has no idea how to take all of this in.

He looks over at the sound of some scruffing footsteps not far from him. It was a bit far, with the sun making it hard to see by having the person against the light, Rick couldn't assess the man properly and so starts to motion for it to come over. Unaware that someone was slowly coming up behind him.

Rick felt his instincts warn him. A breath of caution passing by his nape so when he turns around, he turns around to take a shovel to the face.

Duane, a kid, has hit Rick. "Daddy, daddy!"

It was a young voice, "Carl… Carl? I found you…"

"Daddy, I got this sumbitch. I'm gonna smack him dead!"

Morgan, Duane's father, runs over and shooting the man— Rick was waving over earlier in the street, right on the head. The body slumping down quickly after, dead.

"He say something? I thought I heard him say something." The two spoke, standing over Rick's slowly fainting form.

"He called me Carl."

Morgan notices the bandage on Rick's body, his hospital gown left open. "Hey, mister! What's that bandage for?"

"What..?" Rick groggily replies, his sight already circling around in a way that made his head hurt.

"What kind of wound? You answer me, damn you! What's your wound?"

Rick doesn't respond and so Morgan cocked his gun with a click. "You tell me! Or I will kill you."

It was too late. Darkness filled his view.

It took a while but Rick quickly adjusted his eyes to the darkness of the room. Looking to the side, he frowned at the sight of a little kid hostile and holding a bat— fearing him.

"Got that bandage changed out. It was pretty rank. What was it? The wound?" The sound of water dripping down from a towel and a bucket, caught Rick's attention. Moving his gaze towards Morgan, the man didn't look hostile though he kept a suspicious look in his eyes— interrogating.
"Gun shot."
"Gun shot? What else? Anything?"

Rick raised his brow, not letting himself get the lower treatment, when he too is suspicious of the man in front of him. "Gun shot ain't enough?"

Morgan sighs, "Look, I ask and you answer. It's common courtesy, right?" Morgan rhetorically asks before fully emphasizing the question he had been meaning to say. " Did. You. Get. Bit?"

"Bit?" Rick stared at him confused,

Morgan nods, "Bit. Chewed. Maybe scratch? Anything like that."

"No, I got shot. As far as I know."

Morgan kept his expression blank, his stance fully contemplating before he finally took the courage and reached out— Rick flinching and backing up, alert and preparing for what he would do but Morgan only lets out a hush. "Hey… Just let me…" and feels his forehead.

Morgan turns to his son, "Feels cooler now. Fever would have kill you by now."

"I don't think I have one."

Morgan stands up, pulling out his knife. "Be hard to miss. Take a moment, eh? Look how sharp it is. You try anything… I will kill you with it, and don't you think I won't." Morgan places the knife closer to Rick's cheek, letting him feel the sharpness of it but not pushed enough to graze a cut.

Rick stays still and Morgan cuts him free. "Come on up when you're able..."

Rick kept himself laying on the soft bed, wrapping his hand on one of his wrists and massaged it for new blood to flow. Moving his gaze towards the door where Morgan and Duane left with intense concentration.

When Rick finally came down, Morgan and Duane were already preparing to eat. Heating up a canned good over a DIY stove pot.

Rick kept his questions to a minimum but the very one he first asked was about the man Morgan shot. He distinctly remembered Morgan shooting someone before he passed out, the thought kept coming back to his head. A person— hoping he was sane— shot someone in the middle of the street with no care,

But all the two answered with pure belief was that it wasn't a man.

"Hey, mister, do you even know what is going on?"

Rick chewed his food slower, no matter how much he wanted to gulf them down as his body woke up with hunger— he couldn't risk that. Especially when his brain had no appetite. "I woke up today. In a hospital. Came home, that's all I know."

Morgan's brow furrowed in concern, "But you know about the dead people, right?"

"Yeah, I saw a lot of that. Out on the loading dock, hauling trucks."

Morgan shook his head, finally getting the gist of what Rick is going through. He couldn't have possible just woken up and heard about all this now? "No… Not the one's they put down… The one's they didn't— The walkers. Like the one I shot today cause he would have ripped into you; try to eat you, take some flesh at least but I guess if this is the first you're hearing, I know how it must sound…"

Rick frowned, the thought of a person eating other people— he knew of cannibals and what they are but guessing on Morgan's concern, it was more than that. The way he spoke, it was close to those beings as monsters. "They're out there now, in the street?"

Morgan nods, Duane helping him pack up their utensils as they all are finished. "Yeah. They're even more active after dark sometimes. Maybe it's the cool air— Hell, maybe it's just me firing up that gun today but we'll be fine long as we stay quiet." Rick nods, not fully convinced but it was somewhat an answer to his questions. Anything to keep him going, "Probably wander off by morning."

But Morgan wasn't finished, not one bit. "One thing I do know… Don't you get bit! We saw your bandage and that's why we were afraid of. Bites kill you— the fever burns you out! Then after a while, you come back..."

'As one of them.' Rick could connect the dots, letting the words hang and fill the room.

"Seen it happen…" Duane weakly adds after a while, Morgan giving a tight-lipped smile and petting his son on the head gently, comforting in any way he can.

After supper, they all fixed their beds. Piling up pillows, blankets and comforters to the living room. All gathered for protection, Duane sleeping next to his father.

"Carl… He your son? You said his name today…"

"He's a little younger… than your boy."

"And he's with his mother?"

Rick without a pause though voicing it out was difficult, he says: "I hope so."

And God does he hope so. The thought of his children and wife out there, living among the monsters Morgan himself feared. Rick didn't want to believe that.

As much as he wanted to, he wanted to believe that his wife and children are actually somewhere on vacation without him, having fun. Laughing.

But he couldn't take that risk. Not when it's gravely crucial that threatens their lives. He had to accept this. He had to or he would live misguided and naive,

They continue to talk, as Maxine would say Schmoozing till blaring horns of a car alerted them up.

They dim the lights and looked outside. Rick peaked on one of the creaks, seeing several of them, Walkers— Morgan called— walking around outside. Morgan was right, they all looked dead. Different.

"It's the blue one, down the street. Same one as last time. I think we're ok."

Rick tilted his head, "That noise… Will it bring more of them?"

Morgan shrugs, letting Rick getting his answer. "Nothing to do about it now. Just have to wait 'em out till morning."

Rick kept glancing outside, this time on the peak hole of the door. Only taking a look back when Duane let out a gasp and started sobbing in his father's arms.

Morgan shushes his son, placing a pillow over Duane's head to muffle the sobs. "Come on, quiet. Shh, shh... It's ok, here. Cry into the pillow. Shh…

Rick took a chance to once again look at the peephole, seeing a beautiful woman wearing her sleeping dress; looking at the door in confusion and seems to be staring at Rick. He waited with baited breath when she then starts to turn the doorknob left and right,

Rick kept himself alert, even when he went back to his seat, in case she manages to open the door despite being shut and barricade by wood.

Morgan beside him then explained. "She, uh… She died in the other room, on that bed. That fever, man— her skin gave off heat like a furnace— I should have put her down, I know that," Morgan was close to tears, his voice shaking at the memory of his wife. "- but… I just didn't have it in me… She's the mother of my child."

Rick himself kept quiet, not letting himself speak out when he himself is scared. Not wanting to let his thoughts go the possibility that... No. He shouldn't dwell on it. Not until he sees it himself.

His family is alive. He needs to believe in that.

They look at the doorknob and it continues to turn left and right.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I don't share my personal information but I am willing to get your number, maybe a business card?" Maxine innocently blinked towards Rick, who took enough courage to finally walk towards her and ask her number.

This wasn't the second time they've met. No.

He would catch a glimpse of her in the market. They would often catch each others gaze one or two times— though the first time they did saw each other on the market, was an amusing memory itself as when they both caught each other's appearance for the first time, Maxine's eyes widened along with her mouth like a fish and dashed off towards a completely different food section. She kept doing that, every time she saw him. It was quite disheartening at first and so, he too avoided her the next time they've saw each other at a grocery store— only this time, she was the one who looked for him. This carried on for weeks, it became a sort of amusing game and Rick at that time would just pop to where he knew she is hiding and watch as she scrambled herself away and Maxine took it as a challenge as the next time she took a banana and pretended to shoot him.

Rick found out she worked on King County's only Mechanic named Mighty Marvin's Repair and Shop through a friend at work. It was the talk all over the Department, being a small town— all officers know everybody.

And the new woman on the Repair shop was gaining admirers.

Leon Besset was the first to meet her, when he and his partner's vehicle suddenly broke down through overheating— they were left no choice but to have the Shop's owner Marvin to tow them. By then a few more followed, until Rick himself hoped their vehicle also breaks down for him to finally meet the constant gossip at work and not just on weekly marketing.

"I don't have... a business card," He was a police.

"Oh, it's completely fine if you are not prepared, I guess it just means we'll communicate in some other way?"

"How's a coffee sound?" Rick smoothly intervenes, when Maxine totally meant for her words to mean that they'll never talk again till a few more months but Rick turned their conversation to go towards a different meaning.

Maxine was stunned but she won't lose, placing her hands in her pockets she stepped closer and said: "Coffee's for closers only." Hook.

"Then lunch?" Line.

Seeing his intense gaze, Maxine couldn't help but have a sly grin on her lips. An action that Rick followed with his eyes. "What if I'm not hungry?" Sinker.

That stunned Rick, his eyes widened in surprise at the same time his eyes darkened close to his thoughts and Maxine laughed at the predictability of men. But she did find him cute.

"Call me whenever you're free." Maxine grins, biting her bottom lip as she shyly yet as much as she can— confidently walked away. Leaving a stunned Rick by the counter where Marvin kept watch.

"Here's her number." Marvin reaches out from the counter that Rick held on for himself.

"Wouldn't that be considered cheating?" Rick asks, glancing towards the side to see Maxine working on the car by herself. Her hair tied away on a ponytail letting Rick get a glimpse of her glimmering neck from her sweat.

Marvin scoffs, "Yeah, out of everyone from your department, you're the only one she gave attention to. I think that's a sign itself— and here's a piece of advice." Rick faces Marvin, intent on listening as the old man let out a huff. "You don't meet a girl like that every dynasty." He says, gesturing over the direction, Rick following his gesture just in that moment where Maxine herself looks up at him. With a smirk, she gets back to work.

Rick takes the card from Marvin's fingers, with an intense gaze, he says. "Thank you."

Rick sits in the tank and disheartened, slowly losing hope as the only way he could see himself going was ending it once and for all.

He didn't know why he suddenly thought of a memory. Maybe Something nice to elevate himself before going through what he thinks is for the best. The gun from the soldier he just shot inside the tank had his loaded. He only needed one bullet, that's all.

Just one bullet.

But just then, the radio in the tank starts to make static sounds. A voice on the other end starting to talk.