Chapter Text
2018
Rick flinched, his eyes going wide as a very familiar bolt pierced the walker that had gotten too close for comfort. The flinch sent spears of pain shooting through his body from the deep wound in his side. His head snapped up, desperately searching, and he saw Daryl, Michonne, Maggie, Carol, Jesus, Eugene, and the others on the other side of the river.
His heart lurched with sudden hope, but he knew his death was inevitable; there was no way the group could take on the large herd, and he didn't want them to risk themselves. His wound throbbed as he made eye contact with Daryl, the only one to stay still as the others rushed forward.
“No, don't do it, not for me. It’s too many. No,” Rick waved a blood covered hand at Daryl, trying to get him to stop them. They shouldn't sacrifice themselves for him.
He pulled his hatchet out and managed to take the nearest walker down with more effort than it had taken him in years. Daryl’s bolts flew up and took out more walkers that were getting too close. Rick closed his eyes briefly, regretting everything he hadn't done, every moment he’d not taken advantage of up until then passing before his eyes. The man he loved stood on the bank on the other side of the river, taking out walkers for him, and Rick just stood there for a long moment remembering everyone they’d lost. Carl, Lori, Shane, Beth, Hershel, Glenn, Abraham, and so many more. Too many.
He raised his gun, pointing it at the dynamite knocked to the floor by the shuffling walkers. He didn't look towards Daryl again, not able to bear the pain of knowing his right-hand man, the man he’d been in love with for the last six years at least, would see him die like this.
At least he could do one more thing. Could stop anyone else he loved from dying. He took a deep breath, aimed and closed his eyes.
“I found them.”
The bridge blew up, raining fire down into the water below, walkers falling to their second deaths. Rick didn't see any of that. Didn't hear the screams from Michonne. Didn't see Maggie and Carol holding her up. Michonne had become his right-hand woman, she was like a sister to him. He didn't see the tears tracing tracks in the grime on Daryl’s face, or hear the man’s anguished sobs.
Rick Grimes had closed his eyes not expecting to ever open them again.
When he did open them it was to the most unexpected sight.
The hospital ceiling, looking the same as it had all those years before, grimy above him. He closed his eyes tight and opened them again, hoping the sight would change, but it didn't.