Changing To Adapt ➵ TWD

➵ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱɪxᴛʏ ᴏɴᴇ

In both the old world and the new, Rick knew not to judge character based solely on a persons appearance. A seemingly kind old man can slaughter dozens. Just as a young boy could murder a friend. It was, and is, Rick's job to look deeper than the identity shown on the outside.

When he heard about what was said, Rick had to make sure. Because he didn't survive this long ignoring shit like that.

Now, standing over Lucas with creases forming between his brows, he realises how much of his supposedly simple act of information gathering had twisted into something else. Something blaming and mean.

Even now, he wonders if it was worth it.

With his head tucked between his knees and hands crammed over his ears, Lucas flinches at the tell-tale warmth of Rick's hands, coming down over his shoulders. He stills.

"I needed to be sure." A voice like gravel, reverberating from the body in front of him.

A calloused hand moves around Lucas's shoulder to clasp the back of his neck. It squeezes, and drags him forward.

Lucas's breath hitches, and then he's leaning against a solid chest. It's Rick, he remembers. But his body sinks into it like a warm hug from his mother.

His breathing is, naturally, beginning to settle, his blood no longer pumping hard enough to hear. He forces his eyes open and stares at Rick's collarbone, feeling all sorts of ashamed. He wasn't that kind of person. Not in front of others.

Maybe once in front of Dennis, when his mum passed.

"I'm sorry it had to come out this way," Rick says, in a low tone. He exhales slowly through his nose like he's thinking hard about something. "But I thank you for telling me."

Lifting his head, Lucas clears his throat, his hands still shaking against his legs. He's about to ask if this means he's still got a place in the prison, but his eyes track movement over Rick's shoulder. And judging by the lack of Michonne and Carl -

"Rick!"

They dive opposite ways, Lucas to the right and Rick to the left, barely avoiding the knife that comes down in a sweeping vengeance.

Morgan's awake.

The man's eyes fall on Lucas, his closest target, and he advances with a war cry.

Lucas scrambles backward and tumbles when he puts weight on the wrong arm. He grabs the closest thing and ditches it. Despite Morgan's quick dodge, it gives Lucas enough time to get up and on his feet.

Reaching for Morgan's arm, Rick yells, "Do you see me?" He jerks out of the way of another swing, "Hey, you know me!"

"People wearin' dead people's faces!" Morgan hollers in reply, recovering quickly and going for the kid.

Lucas blocks a fist to the face with his forearms, but his surroundings are new to him and his calves hit against one of the gun crates. He wheezes when he hits the floor, straining to hear Morgan's whereabouts.

Forcing himself back to his feet, Lucas finds the man standing over a fallen Rick. Within this second and the next, Rick cries out in pain, and there's a kitchen knife in his shoulder.

Lucas drives into Morgan's ribs, taking them both to the floor and away from Rick. He wheezes out a few curses when he lands on his aching shoulder, and rolls a good distance away to let Rick back into the fray.

"You know me, you crazy son of a bitch!" Rick pulls the hammer back on the python and presses it to Morgan's forehead.

And Morgan. . . Morgan grabs it and pulls it closer. "Please!" He cries, "Please kill me."