Chapter Text
It takes longer than it should for Rick and Daryl to make it out of Terminus and back to the safety of the woods where the group is set to meet back up. Both men are constantly having to put walkers down that are drawn to the scent of fresh blood coming from Rick's injuries. By the time Daryl is leaning Rick up against the trunk of a tree, the ex-cop is barely conscious from the amount of blood he's lost.
Michonne is instantly by his side, digging in a bag for a first aid kit they packed before leaving the farm. Worry fills Rick's foggy mind as her beautiful face swims in and out of focus before his eyes. She's speaking but Rick can't hear the words, it's like his ears are stuffed full of cotton. Glazed over blue eyes catch sight of Merle, and Carol running up to them with several bags loading them down before a sudden, stinging pain in his injured leg snaps him back into reality.
"-may sting a little, I'm sorry, but it's best to stitch this up now rather than wait for Lily or Hershel to do it. You won't make it to the farm bleeding like this." Michonne is saying, her steady hands working to stitch the gunshot wound on his thigh.
"What the hell happened in there? He looks like he went rounds with Mike Tyson. You both do." Carol's cool voice sounds, though Rick can tell the question is not aimed at himself. He's thankful for that as right now, he's simply struggling to stay awake. Talking is beyond his capabilities.
"We found Gareth, sumbitch surprised us. He-" Daryl begins to explain, but Rick stops paying attention as someone moves in Martinez's shadow. A new person. Black spots are beginning to cloud his vison as Rick strains to make out the person's features. The figure moves closer but before Rick can even make out if it's male or female, the world goes black, and he slips into unconsciousness.
Pale eyes hazily open as awareness begins to fill his mind. The former deputy is half expecting to be back in the hospital again as he looks at the white walls surrounding him and the feel of an IV needle in his arm. The blanks begin to fill as Rick recognizes Hershel's guest room. 'Why am I in the main house?', he wonders to himself. Suddenly, the memories of what happened at Terminus flood into his mind. The fight with Gareth, the wounds he sustained, and the new person he saw.
Rick tosses back the blanket covering him and attempts to leap to his feet..only to collapse back onto the bed with a strangled scream of pain as his thigh flares with agony. The bedroom door bursts open and Hershel, Michonne, and Daryl rush into the room and straight to Rick's side. Hershel puts a hand on Rick's chest and gently pushes him back down onto the bed.
"Hold on, son, don't need you tearing your stitches trying to jump back into things." The vet's calm voice soothes some of Rick's worries. His mentor wouldn't be so collected if they'd lost one of their own in the attack. Just to be sure, he glances at his partner and brother.
Michonne's face is stoic, though her brows are creased with worry, as she holds his hand gently. There's a healing cut over her left eyebrow that has a butterfly bandage on it and Rick wonders how she got it. Daryl still looks like he was in a bar brawl, but the bruises are yellow tinged showing they're healing. The hunter's slate colored eyes are narrowed with concern as he watches Rick.
"H-how long?" His voice cracks, coming out raspy from disuse. Hershel pours him a paper dixie cup full of water from a pitcher on the bedside table and helps him hold it to his lips. Rick drinks greedily, barely having the presence of mind to remind himself to slow down.
"It's been a week." The farmer says as he goes back to bandaging Rick's thigh, seemingly pleased that the stitches haven't torn. Rick is floored. 'A week? I've been out for a full week? Jesus, Michonne must have been losing her mind...and what about Carl?' Rick internally worries, his right hand flexing on the bed as he actively resists the urge to reach up and run it through his hair.
"Is everyone back safe?" Rick is pleased to find his voice stronger this time. Relief floods through him when Michonne nods.
"Everyone is fine, though Martinez is recovering from a broken wrist since one of those bastards got the drop on him." She informs him, making a knot of tension deflate in his chest.
"Thank god. I worried when I woke up and no one else was in here." He informs them, eyes flitting from face to face. There's a tension in their shoulders all of a sudden that makes the ex-cop nervous. A face flashes in his memory, foggy though it is, that prompts him to ask what's on his mind.
"There was someone else with us, when we all met up. Who was that?" Daryl appears to tense even more, his jaw setting unhappily. Michonne sighs at the redneck before turning to look at Rick with a slight smile.
"A guy that Terminus held prisoner in the rail car. Along with his girlfriend. She has a messed up leg, we couldn't very well leave them to their own devices." Something about that niggles at Rick's memory but he just can't place it. He suddenly has a flash of a young woman with a leg that didn't heal right, but he can't put a name to her face in his mind.
"I need to speak to them." He decides. Something about the look on his face prevents the others from arguing, even Hershel, though the man does look at Rick with disapproval clear on his aged face. The curly haired man just grins at his mentor as he heaves himself into a sitting position again.
The older man shakes his head and stands, leaving the room after taking out the IV. Presumably to tell the rest of their family about his condition. Rick tries not to let it affect his pride that Michonne has to help him from the bed and then she and Daryl have to half support him the few steps to the door. They continue to guide him down the hallway to the stairs, where Daryl has to half carry him to the bottom.
"Yer gettin' fat." The redneck jokes when he sets Rick back onto his feet, making the other man snort and push at him playfully. Michonne just rolls her eyes and slips Rick's arm around her shoulders again, taking most of his weight. They slowly make their way into the kitchen where their family has gathered for lunch.
"Dad!" Carl calls out, leaping from his chair and running over to them. He skids to a stop in front of the pair, seemingly just remembering that his father is injured. Rick carefully wraps his free arm around his son, holding in a hiss when the young boy returns the hug and one of his skinny arms presses on the cut along his side.
"Did you really get shot again, Dad? Daryl said you did." Carl tells him as the hug ends. Wide blue eyes, a mirror to Rick's own, stare up at him in concern and joy that he's still here. Rick sighs softly, enjoying the blissful innocence in his son's expression and wishing it would last longer then it needs to.
"Yes, I got shot again but I'm alright. Michonne did a good job patching me up before we got home. Hershel, and Lily, have done a very good job of looking after me since then." He tells his son, and the people not so subtly listening in a few feet away. Rick then gently nudges Carl back to his place at the table.
"Finish eating, son. Then I want you to take the other kids outside to play while the adults talk." Carl looks visibly unhappy with this decision but doesn't protest like Rick thought he would. Which is a relief to a weary father as he slowly settles himself down at one end of the table. Annette is quick to bring him a plate and something cold to drink, breezing over to him almost before he'd even got sat down properly.
The former deputy spends his meal looking over his people as they sit around the large dining table. The group he took with him to put an end to Terminus are all whole, even if most of them are banged up and looking a little worse for wear. Martinez seems to have the most serious injury besides his and Daryl's own, having his right wrist wrapped in a plaster cast. The Latino man notices his look and shoots him a smile.
"A clean break, Doc says. Got it 'cause one of them assholes slammed my arm in a door. It'll heal." Martinez tells him with a light tone, soothing some of Rick's worry. Merle's lip is busted but he's grinning in a way that says he gave more than he got. Carol only has minor scrapes on her hands and a slight bruise on her left cheek. Minor injuries that work to ease the rest of Rick's worry.
It's the two new faces on the opposite end of the table that draw Rick up short. A blonde man in his early twenties that looks like a he's tweaking on something, though Rick knows it's just his nerves, and a brunette woman in her mid-twenties with a bum leg. Recognition floods his mind. He knows these two, the couple that Carol and Rick found just before he banished Carol from the prison. Sam and Ana.
Rick's pale eyes shoot to Carol, who's already looking at him, and she shakes her head. They don't remember. He sighs softly, partially relieved they don't remember the horrific ways they died, and partially because this will make integrating them into the group more difficult. After lunch the kids are shooed outside, Lori following to keep an eye on them and most likely to be out of Rick's presence. Amy goes with them, not having the stomach for the conversation that's about to happen.
"What happened while Daryl and I were searching for Gareth?" He asks the group at large, knowing that within the week he's been unconscious the hunting party has more than likely told the rest what went down. it's Carol that answers him first.
"Merle and I went raiding for supplies. We found the same room I'd found last time, full of weapons and artifacts from their victims. We also found that bitch, Mary, and her bodyguards. They were laying in wait, took us by surprise. Mary remembered. Once they were down, we started packing up everything that we could-" She's interrupted by Merle.
"Lots a' weapons. 'nother crossbow fer Darylina an' other pretty toys fer us." The redneck loudly calls from where he's leaned his chair back on the back two legs. Rick has to hide a snort as Annette reaches over and smacks him on the back of the head lightly in admonishment. He's very surprised when Merle merely puts his chair back onto all four legs and mutters an apology with a grin.
"Martinez and I started opening rail cars, freeing anyone inside. That's where we found Sam, and Ana. They were locked up in the last one and Sam's shoulder was dislocated. They were the only two that decided to stay with us, the rest were obviously worried about another large group offering sanctuary so they took off." Michonne picks up where Merle had stopped, explaining what they were doing while Rick and Daryl were taking out the main threats.
Martinez clears his throat before starting his report. "We picked off every one of those fuckers that we came across, didn't seem like none of the ones we took out remembered anything. Though one car we opened had several crazy bastards in it. Michonne ran the leader through with her sword when he had his hands 'round my throat."
Rick looks to Michonne, worry on his face. She hadn't told him they'd let out the men who'd originally attacked Terminus and turned Gareth and his people into what they were. The samurai smiles at him, giving a reassuring nod and Rick sighs. They'll be talking about this later.