Chapter Text
******
"Sanctuary for all. Community for all. Those who arrive, Survive.” Carl tipped back the hat on his head. “Terminus? Well, it’s somewhere to go, I guess.”
Rick met Michonne’s eyes briefly over Carl’s head. He could see that she wasn’t about to call this one, clearly more than willing to defer to Rick’s judgment.
Ha. His judgment. His judgment had Judith dea-- Judith gone, and their group scattered. What the fuck did he know about judgment?
“Hnnm,” Rick grunted, rubbing absently at his stomach. They needed a direction to go, and this direction would work as much as any other. They could follow the train tracks and see what this Terminus was. It beat the random, senseless wandering they’d been doing for the past day and a half.
Michonne nudged Carl with her shoulder. “You never know. I found you two, didn’t I?”
Rick found himself both bitterly jealous and pathetically grateful for the shy grin that lit up his son’s face in response to Michonne’s teasing. It was that more than anything else that decided him. “It’s gonna be dark soon. We need to find somewhere to sleep, and we can head there in the morning.”
By now the three of them had a routine. It was jarring to realize that Carl was part of that routine, instead of someone to be protected. Rick’s brain might scream at him that Carl was only fourteen, but watching the competent way he searched through the trees for walkers, calmly looking for wood for a small fire tugged at Rick’s heartstrings. His son had matured while he wasn’t looking, and Rick would do well to remember that.
“You think we should go further back? Away from the tracks a bit?”
Rick looked around. The place Carl had found had obviously been used as a makeshift camping spot before. The half-eaten corpse told its own story. Carl had dragged it aside, long past being fazed by the grim sight. There was a natural outcropping of rock that would keep anything from coming at their backs, and enough cleared area for a small fire and space for the three of them to sleep.
“I think we’ll be okay.” He didn’t want to undermine Carl’s work to make camp. Their truce was still so fragile. Rick did not want to go back to how it had been in that house. Carl had been right to blame him for the clusterfuck at the prison, but Rick simply couldn’t handle the idea of his son leaving. He could not lose both of his children. Keeping Carl safe was all that he fucking had.
Michonne clearly had her doubts but just shrugged at Rick’s words, willing enough to go along with his decision. They had looted quite a bit from the town before running out of it, and it only took an hour or so to string a alarm around their small camp. They had more than enough food in Carl’s backpack, and Michonne had found a small knapsack that had been overlooked when Carl had dragged the mangled corpse out of their way. In it had been three packets of jerky and a wicked looking hunting knife. Rick didn’t have a pack, and the knapsack reeked of decay, but the knife fit neatly into his belt. He felt better giving his to Carl; it had been one that they had practiced with it in the prison, and Carl was more comfortable with its grip and weight than the heavier hunting knife.
The fire was a welcome bit of light. The night was quiet and the three of them ate the cans of creamed corn and creamed spinach in relative comfort.
“Ugh, I never was much of a fan of that stuff.” Rick made a face as the bland spinach slid unpleasantly down his throat. “But now, it’s like a four-course meal.”
Michonne snorted. Carl was already passed out, snoring softly, curled up on his side, with his face towards Rick. Rick couldn’t help the way he reached out and gently pushed Carl’s hair out of his face. His son wrinkled his nose in his sleep, then stilled, sleeping soundly.
“You two are gonna be okay.” Michonne’s already soft-spoken voice was a bare whisper in the quiet night. “Others had to have gotten out. We’ll find ‘em, Rick.”
Rick’s throat tightened. Would they? Beth and Judith? Daryl? Maggie and Glen? Tyreese? He, Carl, and Michonne were still alive, so it stood to reason that at least some of his friends... his family... were too. But this new world was rarely that kind.
“Hnnm.”
“You sure you want to take the first watch?” I don’t mind doin’ it.”
“No. You get some sleep.” Rick wanted to get up anyway. Habit had him checking his ammo as he stood, ignoring how loudly his knees cracked.
“Okay.” Michonne scrunched down a little with her back on the rock outcropping, folding her hands in her lap and closing her eyes. He noticed that she sat close enough to Carl so that his shoulder brushed against her leg and was glad for it. God knew he needed the help. Right now, Rick trusted Michonne’s protective instincts more than his own. Rick kicked at the fire so that it wouldn’t flare up and walked far enough away from their camp that he could piss without being seen (privacy was in low supply these days and was guarded fiercely when possible), then stood with his back to a tree, looking out into the quiet night.
When Lori died, Rick had... well. There wasn’t all that fine a point to put on it. He’d gone a little crazy, seeing her around every corner. Talking to her, and Dale, Jacqui and T-Dogg on that damn phone at all hours of the day and night until Hershel had calmly distracted him enough to take the phone away. Rick had his suspicions that Daryl had had something to do with it, but Daryl had never volunteered the information, and Rick sure as shit wasn’t about to ask.
The terrifying thing was that he could feel that madness lingering just there, out of his reach. Like something huddling in the dark abyss, ready to spring out at him if he let his guard down. His daughter. God, Judith. He was certain she was dead, and equally as certain that he couldn’t stop looking for her. Someone could have gotten her out. Maybe Carl and Michonne were right. Terminus- whatever kind of community that was, had to be fairly large if it was advertised so far away. From the map it looked like there were several tracks that lead to its location, like the legs of a spider.
The groan startled Rick out of his thoughts, and his attention sharpened on the lone walker several feet away. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath. He’d have to lead it a little further away before it tripped over the alarm. The alarm worked two ways: alerting those inside of it of impending walkers, but the noise of it being tripped also rang the dinner bell for any walker within hearing distance. He looked over at Michonne and Carl, still sleeping in the dimmed light of the fire and made a quick decision. Rick made sure it saw him as he led it away before turning and dispatching it with the new knife, ignoring the hissing and easily dodging the gore-encrusted mouth. There was another one to his left and Rick was able to sneak up behind it with very little trouble, dropping it down onto the ground with a muffled thump of sound. Something had to be nearby, making noise.
Later, he was never sure if that walker saved his life or not. If he hadn’t snuck up behind it, he never would have been in the position to see the group of men camped around the dim fire. Instinct had him crouching in the darkness as he took in the situation. There were a lot of them. From where Rick crouched, he could see the perimeter they’d put up. Three men to his left passed around the blunt, the slightly skunky smell of pot barely drifting towards Rick’s nose, now that he realized what he was seeing. Six men sat sprawled around a fire, eating and drinking.
Rick’s heart jumped into his throat when he saw what the four to his right were doing. From this distance, Rick couldn’t tell if they had a woman or a young man, but the muffled grunts and cries of pain told their own story. The man in the back pulled back with a laugh, picking up his weapon and zipping up in almost the same move. For one second, the flash of blonde hair had Rick’s muscles tensing, stupidly ready to spring forward until he realized that one- the woman was much too old to be Beth, and two, one of the men raping her had slit her throat, ending their sport and her life with one cruel twist of a knife.
Rick’s skin crawled, but there was nothing he could do. He was outnumbered, outgunned--- The snap of a branch sent Rick ducking down lower, belly to the ground. Two men came up from the opposite direction that Rick huddled. The quiet night carried sound very well. “Hey, Joe. We saw a couple of campfires out there.”
“I’m sure you did. Dark night like this. Any sign of the cowboy?”
Both shook their heads, reaching out and warming their hands by the fire. “Nope. Nothing. Some broad and her kid---”
Rick’s heart stopped. Holy fucking Christ, he’d left Michonne and Carl alone! He used every single iota of skill Daryl had shown him to move silently. He was so focused that he missed the rest of the conversation, and began to move blindly back towards their campsite. The only reason they hadn’t been discovered had been due to either the outcropping of rock, or the noise of this bigger group, but Rick knew the feeling of his luck about to run out, and he was pretty much there.
The sound of him tripping in his haste, stumbling over the cold corpse of the walker he'd just killed sent up the alarm from the men, and Rick knew he had only minutes to get back to the camp and warn the others.
He ran as quickly as he could, ducking under the alarm and kicking the fire into smoke so that no illumination would fuck up his plans. Rick crouched and touched Michonne’s shoulder, putting his knee on the katana so that she didn’t slice him in half. One of the unwritten rules was to be careful how you woke someone up out of a dead sleep. Michonne came awake without a sound, instantly tensing into action.
“You have to go. There’s a big group coming. Men. Bad news. Get Carl and get him out. I’ll meet you guys up the road a bit, but it might take me awhile to get there. Terminus. Go! Go, they’re almost here!” His hissed whisper was as low as he could make it, speaking almost into Michonne’s ear. His decision was not really a decision at all; really, the only thing that would keep Carl safe.
“Dad?” Carl’s voice sounded very young in the dark night. Rick shut his eyes at the sound, his heartbeat thundering in his chest. All three of them could hear the men stumbling around in the darkness, still several feet away to the east. The three of them cringed away from the beam of a flashlight, hugging the wall at their back. They were close. Too fucking close. Rick had time to pull Carl to him in a quick, hard hug, before pushing him towards Michonne. Almost as an afterthought he unbuckled his gun belt and pushed it into Carl’s hands.
“Get him out of here, Michonne! Do not let them catch you.”
Michonne was up and yanking a protesting Carl behind her, stumbling through the woods in a dead run. Rick very carefully did not watch the direction that they ran in. He heard the perimeter alarm go off and the man caught in it curse. Stall. He had to stall them, give them a chance to get to safety.
“Who’s there?” He made himself sound spooked. It wasn’t actually that hard. Everything he did now resulted in Michonne and Carl getting another few feet away.
Rick held up his hands, moving from his crouch to his knees as several dark shapes spilled into their campsite. The fire was out, and the moon was behind a cloud, so Rick couldn’t see who he was talking to. He did see the butt of the gun out of the corner of his eye, but barely had time to flinch away before everything went black.
****
Rick came to near a fire. His head throbbed like crazy, and his vision was just blurry enough to tell him that he had probably a bit of a concussion.
“So, welcome to the land of the living. Dan hit you pretty hard, I guess.” Rick squinted up at the amiable-sounding voice, licking his dry lips. He realized quickly that he could see and looked around with sudden fear. The man speaking was tall, dressed in what looked to be motorcycle leathers. He was older, somewhere in his early 50’s, and had greasy, grey hair that hung into his face and a small goatee.
“None of that, now. We’re not gonna hurt ya. Here.” A water bottle was thrust in front of his face, and somewhat bemusedly, Rick realized that he wasn’t tied up. His gaze took in the much larger campsite, the faces looking at him with suspicion and curiosity.
“No?” Rick look pointedly at the blonde woman crumpled to the ground, dead eyes staring up at the sky. Now, Rick could see the hole in her skull. Not too far away was a man also sprawled onto the ground. He had been shot execution-style in sight of the woman, and Rick’s heart twisted, gorge rising. This could have been him, Carl, and Michonne. Jesus fucking Christ.
The man speaking smirked. “Naw. Not a strong guy like yourself. Now, you see- we lost one of our own last night. Found him sliced clean in half like a gutted pig.” The man shrugged. Rick fought with everything in his body not to react. And Tony? Tony here got hisself banged up a good one. Damn near took out his eyes with your trap. You can say it’s been a rough few days for our little band of merry men.”
He held up his hand to forestall any objection Rick might have made- not that Rick was planning to talk.
“Now, I’m not blamin’ you. It was smart to set a trap for the dead’uns. Tony was the damn fool that couldn’t find his ass from a hole in the ground. He’s lucky we had the bandages to spare.” The man indicated what had to be Tony sitting against a large rock, his face wrapped in blood-stained cloth, moodily sipping from a bottle of gin. “Well, to tell the truth, now, he’s family. Otherwise, we’d cull him from the herd like any weak link. We’re strong together, and as it happens, to be travelin’ alone like that you must be doin’, makes you strong too. So. I’m going to make you an offer....”
Rick rolled his eyes but allowed a small smile when the man said the rest of the line.
“.... that you can’t refuse. Damn, I miss that movie. You’re one of us.” The man sighed. “We work together to keep the group strong. Rules are simple. You protect us, ‘n’ we’ll protect you. No lyin’, and if you see something that you want, you just have to claim it. Anything else is on you, ‘less it puts the group in danger.” The man bent down to help Rick up. Rick kept his gaze casual, but saw no sign of Michonne or his son around camp. Rick found himself nodding. His head was throbbing, but he knew that if he stayed with them for awhile, he could keep them from finding Michonne and Carl.
And that wasn’t really a decision at all.
TBC- (sorry Daryl in the next chapter. I'm writing this as it comes, so you might want to subscribe since I can't say exactly when I'll post!)