F O R D|| L O N E L Y ||(TWD)

Atlanta- 03

Once Rick woke up Ford was quick to pull his pocket knife out and cut him free, asking if he was ok or needed any help with getting up. Rick slowly shook his aching head and began sitting up, with fresh bandages on his still-healing wound. Ford took a step back to give him some room as Rick started leaving the room. Morgan had made dinner, the room is lit with a few small candles set up. Four small beds set up on the floor in the living room. Rick takes a long look around the room, letting a slow sigh out. "This place... It's Fred and Cindy's" He said quietly. Morgan looked over from his cooking and shrugged.

"Never met 'em" Rick continued looking around in slight shock. "I've been here, this is their place." He said more surely. Ford took a seat next to Rick at the dining room table. He felt bad knowing he didn't explain everything to him. How could he though? Ford didn't even really know what was going on. Morgan started explaining everything to them both before setting the table and sitting down. "Daddy... Blessings..." Duane says softly, Duane, Morgan, and Rick clasp hands. All three looking at Ford who had his arms folded, he simply shook his head. "I'm not... Religious... Or antyhin' like that..." He whispered, Morgan, nodded and watched as Duane and Rick took hands. "Father, we thank you for the food... Thy blessings... We ask you to watch over us in these crazy days. Amen." Morgan spoke gently, Duane and Rick repeating the 'amen' after him. Ford waited patiently for the three to finish before he started eating.

~First Person POV- Ford~

Come morning Rick was armed with a baseball bat, I watched as a walker stumbled toward us groaning and growling. My hand instinctively over my pocket knife. Rick brought his arms back and brought the bat down on its head, watching it fall to the ground and Rick hunching over. "You alright?" Rick let a breath out. "Need a minute..." We all nodded, I was terrified the first time I killed one of 'em. Threw up and almost cried. Morgan and Duane packed up their things before we walked back to Rick's house. 

"They were alive, or at least when they left" Morgan gave him a skeptical look. "How do you know that?" "Empty drawers in the bedroom. Packed a few clothes, not a lot, but enough to travel." "Anybody could have broken in and stolen some clothes," Morgan said, again, doubtfully. "You see any framed pictures? Neither do I, photo albums and family pictures. Gone." Morgan let a dry sob out. "My wife... Same thing... Here I am packing survival gear and she's grabbing photo albums..." I shuffled my feet as my head raced with thoughts. 'I want my brothers... I want Daryl... I swear to god... If they aren't alive I'm finding their dead bodies just to kill them.' I let a soft grunt out before coughing slightly. The adults looked over at me, I gave them a deadpan look.

"What?" My voice was void of emotions as I spoke, Rick shook his head softly. "What were your brothers like..?" Morgan asked, my eyes hardened at the use of the past tense. "Are." I corrected "My brothers ARE assholes. My brothers don't show emotions. My brothers are NOT dead. Thank you." I said in short sentences with a harsh voice. Morgan took a step back. "Fiesty..." He mumbled under his breath, I rolled my eyes slightly and followed behind Rick as we piled into Rick's car.

It was a short ride to the police station before I got out, following everyone inside, Rick walked into a locker room. "Stations got its own propane system. Pilot's still on." With those simple words, I raced to the last shower stall and got in, stripping and tossing my clothes onto a bench behind me before turning the water on, my body relaxing into the hot water.

~Third Person POV~

Rick and Morgan watched with amused smiles as the two boys raced to separate stalls. Rick taking on a shocked expression when Ford stripped. Seeing the young boys back covered from shoulder to hip in thin, white, faded, and scanned over scars. Breath hitching before he shook his head and got into one of the first shower stalls. Morgan following suit. The four showered, Rick shaving his beard after washing. They emptied the armory before leaving. Morgan and Duane saying their goodbyes to the two. Ford waved when he got into the police car.

Rick flashed his police lights momentarily before waving to the father-son duo. Ford laid his head on the window. "What ya thinkin' bout?" Rick asked, breaking the silence. "My brothers..." He whispered, eyes dulling as his chest clenched. "Mm... You aren't a talker, are ya?" Ford shook his head. "Never have been..." "Well... I know... This isn't any of my business... Considering you don't know me... But... You don't have to answer if ya don't want ta... Okay, Ford?" Ford looked over with a questioning look. Slowly nodding his head as he played with strands of his hair.

"What happened... To your back. What happened?" Ford's hand stopped, eyes moving from Rick to the window as he laid his hands in his lap. Going silent, once again, eyes dulling before he blinked. "Don't know what yer talkin' about Rick..." He mumbled quietly. Rick nodded and whispered a soft 'sorry' before continuing to drive. Stopping only when the gas light turned on. The two filed out of the car, Ford looked around. Seeing two horses calmly eating in a small fenced area. Rick took to the door of the house. Addressing himself and such. Asking for gas before he looked inside. Slowly walking back down to Ford. "I don't think there's anyone here..." "There are horses..." Ford mumbled. Grabbing his two bags and throwing them over his shoulders, letting the straps cross over his chest.

His legs carried him to the fence gate. Petting the solid black horse's snout softly. "There there girl... I know... It's scary... Just calm down..." He whispered. As carefully as he could he saddled her up, Rick doing the same to the other horse. Rick took a minute to adjust, as did Ford, but just a few moments later the two were off. It was deadly silent between the two as the horses galloped, happy to be out of the confined area.

It was a long ride, Ford was mentally complaining about his ass being numb as they entered the big city, Atlanta. He rode along behind Rick, eyes dull before he broke the silence. "My ass hurts, Rick." His voice emotionless, making Rick chuckle slightly as he turned a corner, being met with a horde. Ford's eyes widened before he started backing up, getting his horse turned around he raced down the street again, Rick got pulled down into the horde, Ford looking back quickly. "Rick! Tank!" His voice was frantic in concern for the only person he had talked to in full conversation since the beginning of the apocalypse. Rick scrambled to the tank, getting inside from under it. 

Ford sighed softly, whistling sharply, getting the attention of most of the walkers, who stumbled over to Ford, growling and groaning in hunger. Ford snapped the reins harshly, making the horse speed up, a man stood on top of a roof nearby, eyes wide as he watched the young boy. "Ford... Ford!" "Merle! Shut the hell up! You're gonna get us killed!" An Asian man said in a harsh voice. Ford's head snapped over to the roof, hair falling into his face, though he had cut it just a day prior he was still recognizable. A small smile tugged at his lips as he rode the horse, body bouncing slightly. The zombie's followed behind Ford as Rick made his getaway to Glenn, who was in an alleyway. Ford spend up slightly, going around the block before he got off the horse, letting it run free, watching it for a short moment before he ran off as well, scurrying up the ladder he saw Rick go to just moments before. When he got to the top he ran and tackled his oldest brother, feeling the familiar arms wrap around him tightly. 

"Hey, baby brotha..." Merle whispered, rubbing the back of Ford's head softly. Ford let a slow breath out as he relaxed slightly. "Mmm... Asshole..." He whispered, getting a smack to the back of the head. "Language, Ford..." Ford mumbled and nodded slightly. Everyone around them watched in near awe, seeing Merle Dixon hugging someone so gently. Ford slowly let go of Merle before glaring at him slightly. "Daryl." Merle knew Ford was closer to Daryl than he would ever be. The two shared a lot more personality than Merle and Ford. "Back at the camp, we're all at." He nodded slightly, glancing at the people around them before walking back over to Rick.

[Words Count- 1505]