rick...

this will be from rickkkk... so shane is an alpha and so is daryl ill have go in and change some thing if it mess up again....

The white and grey titles above him are the only things he can see. His vision is hazy and out of focus as the Alpha's best friend, Shane, leans over him with what Rick can only guess is a bouquet of lilies in a blue and white antique vase in his arms. From what he can make out in the mess of colors, Shane wears his police T-shirt that had seen better days. His eyes are red and bagged, his face pale like he hadn't been sleeping. Shane looks at him and sighs before he addresses Rick in a distorted voice.

"I'm sorry man. I know I say the same crap every time I come in here." Shane fiddles with the flowers for a breath before chuckling. "I'm just goin' to set these on your side table, okay?"

Shane observes Rick for a moment before he steps off to the side, out of Rick's peripheral vision, to set the flowers down. After what feels like a few minutes of silence Rick's vision settles into focus and calls out to Shane.

"Shane?" He looks around, noticing he's completely alone.

"Shane, you in the john?" No answer. Scenting the air and noticing that only his own scent was present, with was odd because the nurse's scent should be strong if they were checking on him, Rick looks around to see if he can make out his best friend. He sees the monitors he's hooked up to are off and the flowers that the other Alpha had placed next to his bed are dead. Odd.

Disoriented and confused, Rick tries to get out of the hospital bed. Tossing the blankets aside, Rick slowly sits up and grabs the IV pole next to him before trying to stand. Once he puts weight on his legs- legs that are far weaker than he thinks they should be for being out for such a short amount of time- they give out and Rick is on the floor, unable to breathe. He turns on his side and rips the IV from his arm before calling out in a hoarse voice, "Nurse. Help."

When no one responds he calls out again, scenting the air. The whole building smells wrong; nothing like sterilize bandages and medicine but of death. Shakenly getting to his feet and taking a couple more tumbles before he can balance his weight, Rick makes his way to the bathroom connected to his room. He leans against the door with a heaving breath, and stares in shock at the mirror. He's thin- thinner then he can ever remember being, and he's certain that it's unhealthy- and his stubble is visibly longer then it had been before he got shot. Sticking his head under the faucet and turning it on, he drinks the stale smelling water greedily to clear the dust from his throat. Once Rick has had his fill he turns the water off and wipes his hands off on his hospital gown, being mindful of the bandages wrapped around his stomach that smell infected. He walks out into the hallway and pushes a gurney that blocked the door out of the way.

The hallway was a war-zone; papers litter the floor and the lights were flickering, doors are thrown open with some lights on and some off. Rick starts to make his way down the hallway, confused about the lack of people. He starts to walk down another hallway with a flickering light, stopping at the doors and almost dropping to his knees at the sight in front of him. Bracing himself against the door he stares at the abandoned hallway, the almost completely decayed body of a woman lying in the center.

'Oh my God, what happened here? Where is everyone?' Rick thinks as he walks away from the doors, his fear growing with each step he takes, staring in horror at the bullet ridden blood stained walls. Puddles of the red liquid coat the floor; foot prints slide in and out of view. Being careful not to cut his feet on the glass and ceiling parts on the ground, his breathing catches in his throat at the chained and bared door, the words 'Don't Open, Dead Inside' are spray painted on.

Rick turns to his left and pushes the doors open, bolting from the building. Opening the exit door Rick makes his way outside, using the wall as a support. He keeps his head down, trying to ignore the bodies wrapped in bloody sheets that cover the parking lot.

Rick makes it to his house with little memory as to how he got there. As he pulls up in front of a house he throws the bike he was riding down and stumbles his way into his house. Racing up the porch he throws the screen door open and walks in, calling for his wife and son's.

Walking into his and Lori's room he notices the clothes are thrown everywhere, a suitcase on the bed with shirts and pants left hanging out of it. The whole scene was one that reminded him of hasty packing that wasn't completed, like something more important had come up and the suitcase was forgotten. Going into the next room shows a similar scene, only instead of grown men's and women's clothes they're little boy shirts thrown everywhere. Making his way out of the rooms he went to the pool house to see it the same way he walk back into the house and he drops to his knees and calls out for his family again, terrified now.

After a few moments of crying softly, something most Alphas would never do, Rick gets to his feet and makes his way outside, sitting down on the stairs next to the street that lead to his porch. Looking out into the neighborhood Rick sees a man walking down the street in a black suit. The man sees him and slowly inches his way over, limping as if he had hurt himself. Rick raises his hand and waves at the man trying to catch his scent, unaware of the figure behind him, also slowly making his way to Rick. Once the figure is close enough to the back of Rick's head, they raise their arms back like they were playing baseball with a shovel. A twig snaps under their feet and Rick turns around only to be knocked down by the shovel to his face.

.....

Rick must have blacked out at that point from shock and exhaustion because the next thing he knows; he's waking up on a comfortable bed with his hands tied above his head. Not knowing where he is or how he had gotten inside a house, Rick looks around at his surroundings. An Omega boy is standing off to one side of the bed, a baseball bat in hand as he shifts from foot to foot, biting his lip in anticipation. A glove snapping drags Rick's attention to the other side of the bed, where another Alpha is standing. He looks at Rick for a moment before he goes back to cleaning his hands in a bowl on a table.

"Got that bandage changed now," He says, "it was pretty rank. What was the wound?"

"Gunshot." Rick says.

"Gunshot? What else? Anythin'?" He wipes his hands on a towel before he turns to Rick, wiping his brow as well.

"Gunshot ain't enough?" Rick asks sarcastically.

The man gets closer to Rick, almost over top of him to assert his dominance, and snaps back, "Look, I ask, and you answer. That's common courtesy, right?" He leans down until he's face to face with Rick before saying emphatically, "Did you get bit?"

Rick licks his lips in confusion, narrowing his eyes at the man, "Bit?"

"Bit," the man repeats, "chewed, maybe scratched- anythin' like that?"

"No, I got shot." Rick says looking the man in the eyes, "just shot as far as I know." The man goes to touch Rick, but Rick evades him, remembering what he had done to that man; shot him in the head, point blank, without a second thought.

"Hey. Just let me." He places the back of his hand on Rick's forehead before turning to his son, "Feels cool enough. Fever would've killed you by now."

"I don't think I have one." Rick says, shaking his head.

"Be hard to miss." The man says. The man reaches up and cuts the bindings on Rick's wrists with a pocket knife. He gets off the bed and cuts the bindings on Rick's ankles before closing the knife with a click and putting it back in his pocket.

"Come on out when you're able." The man says as he makes his way over to the door, nudging his son. Rick grabs a thin blanket and makes his way out of the room, heading in the direction of a scrapping ladle and soft murmurs. The man and his son are at a small table, dishing up food onto plates. Rick notices a collection of can goods and toilet paper rolls in corners, two twin mattresses lay side by side, obviously used. It seems like the Alpha and his son were staying within three rooms of the whole house. The windows and door are boarded up with heavy blankets covering them, not letting what little light the candles and oil lamps give off be seen from the outside. The house, now that he's looking around, is familiar. As he makes his way to the windows he feels the other Alpha's eyes on him. He goes to look outside but the man stops him.

"Don't do that," the man calls softly, "They'll see the light. There's more out there than usual. I never should've fired that gun today." The man makes his way to the table and pulls a metal can off a small burner with some rags, "Sound draws them; now they're all over the street. Stupid- using a gun." He blows the hand-held burner out and places it on a side table. "But it all happened so fast... I didn't think." The man sits at the table.

"You shot that man today." Rick accused him.

"Man?" The man questions.

"It weren't no man." the boy pipes in.

"What the hell was that out of your mouth just now?" the man glares at his son.

"It wasn't a man." the boy corrects himself.

"You shot him in the street out front- a man." Rick says a little more forcefully.

The other man scoffs and says, "Friend, you need glasses. It was a Walker. Come on, sit down before you fall down." The man places some beans on his son's and his plates before dishing up a plate for Rick, "Here." Rick sits at the table across from the boy.

They say their blessings and start to eat. The man looks at Rick as if something had clicked with him just now that he hadn't thought about before.

"Hey, mister, you even know what's going on?" Rick swallows his food before he speaks.

"I woke up today in the hospital... came home and that's all I know." Rick takes another bite of beans. The man and his son share a glance with each other before the man clears his throat.

"But you know about the dead people, right?" he asks.

"Yeah I saw a lot of that," Rick says, slightly nauseous, "out on the loading dock, piled in trucks."

"No, not the ones they put down. The ones they didn't- the Walkers, like the one I shot today. Cause he'd have ripped into you, tried to eat you." At Rick's confused yet horrified expression the man continues, "Well, I guess if this is the first you're hearin' it, I know how it must sound."

"They're out there now? In the streets?" Rick nods at the windows.

"Yeah. But we'll be fine as long as we stay quiet." Rick switches his gaze between the two males as the dad speaks.

"But listen." the other man gets Rick's attention, "One thing I do know- don't you get bit. I saw your bandage and that's what we were afraid of. Bites kill you. The fever burns you out. But then after a while... you come back." The two males get quiet.

"Seen it happen." The boy says. His dad squeezes his arm and smiles at him.

They all go back to eating. Later after they finish their food, the three of them curl up in the living room. The man and his son curl up on the mattresses while Rick leans against the sofa. The boy decides the quiet is too much and ask the men a question.

"Dad, did you ask him? " The man chuckles a little before he turns to Rick.

"Your gunshot; we've got a little bet going. My boy says you're a bank robber."

Rick laughs in his throat, "Yeah, that's me, the deadliest Dillinger. Kapow." Rick shifts a little and smiles at them, "Sheriff's Deputy."

"Uh-huh." The man nods. An alarm goes off down the street and all of them jump. The little boy looks at the window in fear, a small whine escaping him, and his dad immediately calms him.

"Hey, it's okay. Daddy's here. It's nothing. One of them must've bumped a car." He reassures his son, purring softy.

"Are you sure?" Rick ask looking at the window.

"It happened once before. It went on for a few minutes. Get the lights Duane." Rick and the man get up and head to the window. The man waits until the room is mostly dark, the candles still burning low, before he moves one of the blankets to look outside.

" I think we're okay." the man looks outside over Rick's shoulder, scanning the street for any kind of threat.

"That noise- won't it bring more of them?" Rick asks as Duane comes over and pulls the blanket back a little.

"Nothin' we can do about it now." the older Alpha sighs, "Just have to wait 'em out till mornin'."

"She's here." Duane gasps as a black female Walker in a white nightgown comes into view from the side. She turns towards the house and starts to make her way over, like she knew they were there.

"Don't look." The man tells his son in a strained voice, "Get away from the windows." Duane backs away from the window, shaking, and throws himself on their mattresses, sobbing.

"Duane. Duane, quiet now." His dad goes over to him and pulls his head into his lap, "Come on, quiet now pup. Shh shh." Rick stays by the window just watching the female Walker as she makes her way to the house. She starts walking towards the porch and out of window view. Rick makes his way to the door in the hallway just next to the room they were camping in and looks out the pep-hole. The Walker makes her way up the steps with another Walker following her.

"It's okay, here." Rick hears the man tell his son. the man grabs a pillow and places it over Duane's head, "Cry into the pillow. Do you remember pup? Shh shh." The Walkers make it on the porch, stopping in front of the door while the other Walker walks over to the other side. the woman just looks at the door; her head bobs like a chicken as her sunken, glazed eyes focuses in on the pep-hole. The way she moved was as if she knew Rick was right there, watching her, and she wanted him to know that she was watching him too. Her jaw keeps twitching like she was trying to bite something, and her eyes drop down to the door knob. It's rattling makes Rick look down were the knob was turning. The Walker was trying to get into the house.

Rick backs away, scared, and goes back in the living room where he sits down on the floor, next to Duane and his dad but his eyes never leave the door. He rumbles quietly, smelling the distress on them both and trying to comfort them. He directs it at the Alpha, not knowing how he would react to Rick comforting Duane. He looks at the other man quick. The Alpha nods and Rick rubs Duane's ankle. Duane reaches down and pulls Rick's hand up to his dad's, burying his face in the scent of the two men. Rick looks to the Omega's dad. He smiles and nods, and Rick goes back to watching the door.

"Thank you." Duane says.

"She uh..." The man says while he pets Duane's hair, "She died in that other room on that bed in there. There was nothin' I- I could do about it. That fever, man, her skin gave off a heat like a furnace." Duane was still crying quietly as his dad and Rick talk.

"I should've-" the man shakes his head, "I should've put her down, man. I should've put her down. I know that, but I- You know what? I just didn't have it in me. She's my Omega; my mate. She's the mother of my child. When I lost her... if I didn't have Duane needing me, man, I would have lost it. I don't know what I would do." The rattling of the doorknob continues even as they get ready to sleep, all kind of huddle near each other. Rick watches the door until he falls asleep.

They drive to the police station in a car they hot wire not far from Rick's house. Rick drives with Duane's dad in the front while Duane piles in the back seat.

"You know, I never got your name. Seems kind of bad not knowing the name of the man who saved my life." Rick says after a couple of minutes of silence.

"Morgan. Morgan Jones and that's my son Duane. You gonna tell us your name, Sheriff?" The man says.

"Rick Grimes, nice to meet you." Rick laughs.

When they show up at the station Rick unlocks the back door for them, and heads for the showers to test the hot water out, to the joy of Morgan and his son. After they had cleaned the excessive amount of grime they had collected, all of them thankful for the hot water, they sat in the locker room drying off. Rick turns to the other man.

"Atlanta sounds like a good deal. Safer anyway- more people."

"That's where we were headed, before..." Morgan sighs.

"Plan to move on?" Rick asks.

"Haven't worked up to it yet." Morgan nods. Rick nods before holding out a bottle of pills.

"They're over the counter, so not as strong, but I figured your boy could use them." Morgan takes the bottle with a nod and looks at the label. Narrowing his eyes, the Alpha looks at Rick with a small rumble of warning in his chest.

"There were a few Omegas that worked here; the Suppressants were mandatory for when they were on shift. I don't think they are going to need them now, but you might if you do decide to leave. There might be more around here but..." Rick shrugs and Morgan nods his thanks and apology.

The two men finish getting dress and Duane meets them back in the locker room, fully dressed and looking a lot happier. They follow Rick farther into the station and come upon a metal cage, filled with guns and ammo. Rick unlocks the padlock and chain keeping the guns inside and pulls the door open.

"A lot of it's gone missin'." Rick says as he pulls a rifle off the wall and checks the scope; Morgan and Duane pile in after him. They fill up two duffle bags with ammo and guns before making their way around the building for anything else they might need. Finding five more bottles of Suppressants, Morgan takes four and leaves the one with the most pills in it for Rick.

"Just in case." Rick nods his thanks and they make their way outside, into the back-parking lot.

"Conserve your ammo." Rick says as they head to the cars, "It goes faster than you think, especially at target practice."

"Duane, take this to the car." Morgan hands Duane their duffle bag and points to the jeep the three of them came in, where Duane heads throwing an "Okay" over his shoulder.

"Are you sure you won't come along?" Rick asks Morgan.

"A few more days. By then Duane will know how to shoot and I won't be so rusty." Rick thinks for a moment, then turns to the squad car- 'his and Shane's' he thinks-and pulls out two walkie-talkies, turning them on to make sure they work. He hands one to Morgan.

"You have one battery. I'll turn mine on a few minutes every day at dawn. You get up there, that's how you'll find me." He says.

"You think ahead." Morgan nods and goes over to Duane, Rick following him.

"Can't afford not to, not anymore."

"Listen, one thing-" Morgan turns to Rick as he speaks, "They might not seem like much one at a time but in a group, all riled up and hungry- man, you watch your ass."

"You too." Rick acknowledges. Morgan smiles at him and they shake hands, Duane standing right next to him.

"You're a good man, Rick. I hope you find your wife and son." Morgan says releasing Rick's hand. Rick nods and looks at Duane.

"Be seeing you, Duane. Take care of your old man." Rick and Duane shake hands as well.

"Yes sir." Duane smiles at him. The Alpha and his son already have the jeep started but waits until Rick is pulling out behind him before they make their way around the building. Morgan pulls onto the street, going right, and honks the horn in goodbye. Rick turns onto the street, going left, and blares the siren twice in reply.

He drives out of the small-town neighborhood and heads to Atlanta. While driving, Rick gets on the radio and hopes someone will answer.

"Broadcasting on emergency channel. Will be approaching Atlanta on highway 85. Anybody reads, please respond. Hello, hello. Can anybody hear my voice? Anybody out there? Anybody hears me, please respond. Hello, can you hear my voice?"

Rick pulls the sun blocker down, showing a picture of him, his Mate Lori, and their pup Carl. It was one of the only pictures he had of the three of them; him and Lori weren't fighting that day and so they went and got a professional family picture of them and Carl. He pulls it out and puts it in the breast pocket of his shirt. Grabbing his hat, the bag of guns and a gas can, he continues down the street leaving the empty squad car on the road.

After about half an hour of walking, Rick stops in front of a small, white farm house and calls out, "Hello? Police officer out here. Can I barrow some gas? Hello?"

Rick puts down his stuff and hops onto the porch. He knocks on the door and calls out once again. "Hello? Anyone home?"

He walks around the porch looking in each window. As he looks in the last one, he gets queasy. A man and his wife were dead; two bloody holes to the heads and a shotgun in the man's hand tells Rick they had killed themselves. Walking over to where he left his bags, Rick stops short at the sound of a nickering horse. Looking over to the fenced in field, a chestnut stallion with a white face was grazing on the overgrown grass. Rick picks up his things before he goes into the barn, takes off his jacket and pulls one of the ropes off a nail, before he makes his way over to the horse. Rick leads the horse to the barn and gets him cleaned up and saddled. Once the horse is good, Rick puts the bag on his back and gets on the stallion.

"Just go easy, okay? I haven't done this for years." The horse takes off running, making Rick grab hold quick so he doesn't get thrown off, "Whoa. Whoa whoa whoa! Easy now. Easy, boy. Easy easy. Easy. Easy. Eas- Whoa! Whoa whoa whoa."

.....

The horse seems to settle down as they make it closer to Atlanta; Rick has him walking on the one clear side of the road.

"Let's go." Rick urges the stallion forward, staring at the traffic jam of abandon cars that looked to be left behind while trying to leave Atlanta. It wasn't until they were in Atlanta streets that the horse started to act strange, not wanting to go further in the city, whining and trying to go back the way they came. Rick turns the horse back around and urges him forward. Passing military vehicles, helicopters and local cars and buses, Rick didn't see any Walkers yet. It wasn't until they passed a bus, two streets over, that they found the dead. Three Walkers start to get off the bus, growling, which causes the horse to start whining again.

A few more Walkers start to appear as Rick looks back at the ones getting off the bus. Rick turns the horse down another street where a tank and some military jeeps were left. Rick slows down in front of the tank where a body of a soldier was laying against the tanks gun, crows eating out of one of the wounds on the soldiers back, the man's face was blown off. Passing the tank, Rick's nose starts to crinkle at the smell of death that seems to cling to the city. Rick kicks the horse into a run. He turns onto the next street and immediately tries to back away, the only thing that stops him from running head first into the street of Walkers was the horse rearing in fear. The whole street is covered from what Rick can tell, but he doesn't stay to get a good look. As soon as the two of them turned the corner, the Walkers took notice of them and started after their next meal. Rick allows the horse to take off, trusting it to get them out. The herd takes off after them, slowly, as the horse runs down the street. They make it to the tank before their path is blocked by Walkers from all sides.

Surrounded by the Walkers as they start grabbing at both Rick and the horse, the stallion rears up and Rick has trouble holding on. When the Walkers knock them both to the ground, Rick drops the bag of guns and his hat. Most of the Walkers start their feast on the horse, seeing as it was basically an easier target because it couldn't really get up. A few go after Rick, but he kicks one off him and scrambles back. Seeing more Walkers in front of him, he freezes, knowing there was no way to outrun them. He'd have to outsmart them, which has him crawling under the tank, the Walkers following him. Seeing how many were there, locking him in place on both sides, Rick places the gun to his temple.

"Lori, Carl, I'm sorry." Just as he goes to pulls the trigger, Rick notices an opening under the tank and pulls himself up before the Walkers reach him. He closes the door under him and scoots against the wall of the tank, next to a dead soldier.

"Oh... God" Rick pants out. He goes to pull the gun from the soldier's suit and almost yells when the dead soldier turns towards him, growling. Rick brings the gun up and fires. Immediately his ears start to ring, his vision goes out of focus. Rick falls to the ground in pain when he notices an opening from the top of the tank. Standing up, with a little difficulty the ringing in his ear starts to disappear. He notices the bag of guns in the street but is unable to do anything as Walkers were starting to climb the tank. Rick pulls the lid down, the Walkers beating at it, and locking himself in with the dead soldier. Rick checks the gun he pulled from the soldier to see how many bullets he had left, then he just sitting there, trying to figure out how he was going to get out of this one. Over the sound of Walkers pounding on the tank and eating his horse, Rick hears a sound; the radio.

"Hey, you." The man over the radio says, "Dumbass. Yeah, you in the tank. Are you cozy in there?"