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The Anderson Family's Survival

Bloodletting

The moments following Carl’s accident were a whirlwind of chaos and confusion that would have given anyone watching from the outside whiplash; the initial shock of the situation is jolted out of its place by the panic and worry of any parent that’s just witnessed their child being shot as Rick, Shawn, and Shane run to the boy’s side to assess the damage. So focused on his injury and making sure he’s okay, the trio is taken by surprise by the culprit, who Shane turns his gun on immediately, demanding answers to who he was and why he had shot Carl in the first place.

Upon finding out what he had done, the heavy-set hunter, who they were informed went by the name Otis, was wracked with guilt over the incident, promising he hadn’t meant any harm. He’d been hunting the deer and hadn’t even seen Carl until it’d been too late, although this didn’t keep Shane from verbally abusing him over the entire thing, even after Otis had told them about a man that would be able to help Carl out. Shawn manages to calm Shane down long enough for Otis to explain where they needed to go to get Carl help and Rick scooped his son into his arms as they headed in the direction the hunter told them. It’s about a mile before they emerge from the woods into a field, spotting the house Otis had described where they could get the help they needed.

“Where’s almost there, Rick.” Shawn told the panicked sheriff reassuringly as Shane ran behind them with Otis, who was struggling to keep up with them, enduring Shane’s relentless verbal abuse, “Otis! Otis, is that it?!” Shawn turned to address the other man, pointing toward the house in the distance. Otis nodded, struggling to catch his breath.

“Y-yes, th-that’s it!” he stumbled, but did his best to catch his balance once more, “Ask…ask for Hershel! He’ll help the boy!”

Shawn nodded his head, pivoting around again, “I’m gonna run on ahead, Rick, I’ll let him know what happened. Just keep following this path.” He pat Rick’s arm reassuringly, “We’re going to get Carl taken care of, he’s going to be okay.” Rick gave Shawn a sideways glance and managed a half coherent nod before the Anderson patriarch picked up his pace and took off ahead of him. He stumbled as he reached the edge of the field, catching his balance as he continued toward the two-story house just ahead. If they weren’t in such a dire situation, he would be able to appreciate a beautiful farm such as this one, but they had to worry about Carl first and foremost. He could admire it later, when the boy’s life wasn’t on the line.

An older man was waiting for Shawn on the steps of the house, surrounded by, who Shawn could only assume, was his family, a woman around his age, two young women and a young man, holding the hand of the teenage blond.

“Are you…are you Hershel?” Shawn asked the elder man, pausing to catch his breath as he earned a nod in response, “Please, please, we need your help, my friend’s son was shot by your man, Otis. Out in the woods, he said to talk to you.” Shawn indicated behind him as Rick was reaching the gate, holding Carl’s limp body close to his, “Please, sir, please help his son.”

Hershel frowned, looking past Shawn as Rick reached them, just on the verge on breaking down as he begged him to help his son. There was barely even a second of hesitation before Hershel indicated for Rick to bring Carl inside the house.

“Quickly, get him inside.” He turned and led the way inside while Rick stumbled after him, Shawn holding him up, so he wouldn’t fall on Carl while Hershel gave orders to his family, “Patricia, grab my full kit. Maggie,” The older woman split off to get what she needed as Hershel looked back at the brunette, “Painkillers, coagulates. You, Beth, and Jimmy grab everything you can, clean towels, sheets, alcohol. In here.” He spoke to Rick, leading him into a bedroom just off the front room, turning down the blankets on the bed so he could lay the boy down. “Pillowcase.”

Shawn grabbed the pillow and yanked the case off as Rick stepped back shakily, unable to take his eyes off Carl’s face, “Is – is he alive?”

Hershel instructed Shawn to fold the pillowcase up into a pad and press it to the wound, adding slight pressure to stop the bleeding as he checked Carl’s vitals, “I’ve got a heartbeat, but it’s faint.”

Maggie came up behind Rick, pushing her way forward with supplies in hand, which included an IV and some tubes that Hershel started to hook up. Patricia spoke to Rick, getting him to take another step back, although he refused to move further. Hershel asked the men’s names, but Rick is still too shocked to answer.

“I’m Shawn,” Shawn introduced himself, indicting Rick, “And this is Rick. His son’s name is Carl.” Hershel nods his head, turning to regard Rick calmly.

“Rick, we’re going to do everything we can for your son, okay? But you’re going to need to give us room.” He told him solemnly, indicating for Shawn to back away as Patricia took his place, pressing the pillowcase into Carl’s wound; Shawn rounded the bed, gently taking Rick’s arm.

“C’mon Rick, let’s give them room.” He gently pulled Rick back toward the door, “They’ll take care of Carl, you just have to trust them.” Rick numbly allowed Shawn to led him from the room and back across the front room out onto the porch outside; Shane and Otis were just reaching the house as they came out, Otis wheezing breathlessly as Shane looked, wide-eyed, up at the two.

“I-is he…?” He indicated inside, looking rapidly between Rick and Shawn, “Is he still -?”

“Yeah, he’s still alive.” Shawn reassured as he gently coaxed Rick into a chair and Shane sighed in relief, climbing the porch steps to join them, eyeing his best friend with a worried frown as he took in his face for the first time. In his shell-shocked state, Rick had run a hand over his face while he’d been inside, smearing Carl’s blood across his skin and partially in his hair. While Shawn rubbed Rick’s back soothingly, Shane reached into his back pocket and extracted a do-rag, kneeling in front of him.

“You’ve got some blood, man,” He began to gently clean Rick’s face while he stared blankly back at him, still trying to wrap his brain around everything, “It’ll be okay…”

Shawn nodded his head in agreement, brushing his own hand across Rick’s chin to wipe away the blood Shane missed as he asked where Carl was. Shawn explained that he was inside, being taken care of by Hershel and the others. The four men decide to head inside to check on things, which are, thankfully, further along than they’d hoped.

“How is he?” Shawn asked Hershel as they met him in the front room, watching him wipe his hand on a rag of his own, sighing. Bypassing the question, Hershel turned to regard Rick, who was just starting to get over his shock.

“Do you know his blood type?” he asked seriously; Rick nodded his head in agreement, “Y-yes, it’s A-positive, same as mine…”

Hershel looked relieved, “That’s fortunate, but be sure you don’t wander far.” He warned, putting a hand on Rick’s shoulder, “We’re going to need you for transfusions later on.” His attention turned to Otis, who was still shaking with guilt over the incident, “What happened?”

Otis sucked in a breath, setting his gun aside, “I-I was tracking a buck…” He gulped so thickly his Adams’ apple bobbed with emotion, “Bullet went clean through it…”

Hershel nodded his head as the older woman approached Otis to comfort him, “Well, the deer certainly slowed the bullet down, and that helped save his life. Unfortunately, though, it didn’t go clean through him.” He rubbed his face as Rick fidgeted uneasily in place, waiting for what he was about to say, “The bullet broke into piece inside his abdomen, at least six of them. If I can get the bullet fragments out, it should save him.”

“I didn’t see him…” Otis’s voice was choked as he hugged Patricia, who rubbed his back slowly, reassuringly, “Not until he was on the ground.”

Shawn watched the heavy-set man empathetically, knowing if he had known Carl was in the way he wouldn’t have taken the shot. He wouldn’t have hurt Carl on purpose. Unfortunately, though, the deed was now done, and they would need to deal with the consequences, even if it was difficult…especially for Rick and –

“Lori…” Shawn turned to regard Rick with furrowed brows, recalling that she was not here to know about her son’s accident. “Rick, Lori doesn’t know.”

Devastated realization twisted Rick’s face, pulling him the rest of the way out of whatever trace he had been stuck in since Carl had been shot as tears gathered in his eyes, “My wife…she…” The tears leaked down his cheeks and he leaned weakly into Shane as he wrapped his arms, tight, around him, pulling his best friend securely into his side, “She doesn’t know…she doesn’t know…” A sob wracks his body as Shane exchanges a quiet look with Shawn over the top of his head.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Although not fully in the loop on what was happening, the Atlanta group is at least aware of something; even if they were nowhere near where the accident had occurred, the team had heard the gunshot. Lori and the Andersons are the only ones who are concerned, though, as the others seem convinced it couldn’t be anything worse than walkers being taken care of. This thought, however, does not sit well with Lori or the rest of the Andersons, however, and does little to dismiss the bad feeling that’s settled deep in the pits of their stomachs.

“Ya’ll still worryin’ ‘bout it?” Daryl looked back as Lori stopped to let her gaze sweep the surrounding forest with Sheon and Rose. Alex, Anna, and Christina paused to look at their sister and cousin, frowning together as they shared a look.

“Why was it just one gunshot…?” Sheon rubbed his face, pressing his lips together tightly, “One.”

“We’ve talked about that.” Andrea offered unnecessarily, “They could have just taken down a walker.”

“Don’t patronize us.” Lori frowned at the blond, shaking her head, “We all know Rick and Shane, neither of them would’ve risked a gunshot to put down just one walker. If it’s just one or two, they would do it quietly.”

“She’s right.” Rose agreed, “They wouldn’t risk drawing more in from nearby.” She let her eyes scan the nearby trees. Carol watches the young woman silently, frowning to herself as she chewed her bottom lip anxiously, casting a glance over the rest of the group.

“They would have already caught up, wouldn’t they…?” She asked, somewhat timidly.

“Nuthin’ we can do about it,” Daryl turned toward the rest of the group, shifting his grip on his crossbow, “We can’t go runnin’ ‘bout these woods chasin’ echoes.”

“What do you suggest then?” Rose crossed her arms as she turned her attention on the hunter, pressing her lips together; he pinned her with icy eyes, “We keep on as we have been. Beatin’ the bush for Sophia and workin’ our way back to the highway.”

“I’m sure they’ll catch up with us later, probably back at the RV.” Glenn supplied in a hopeful tone, looking between everyone as the Andersons exchanged another quiet look among themselves and Lori. Although still worried and, obviously, anxious, they knew letting it stew and consume them would do no good. Even if they didn’t like it, they would need to push this to the back of their minds and focus on the task at hand, which was finding Sophia and getting back to the highway.

The thought of the little girl drew the family’s attention to her mother, their anxiety and worry returning at knowing what she must be going through; Sheon would be the only one who would fully be able to understand that parental worry of not knowing their child’s fate since he was the only one in the group with a son of his own. The closest the rest of the Andersons could really come was when they had to worry about one another or the youngest members of their family. They could only offer condolences and support however they were able.

“Carol.” Sheon moved up alongside her, offering her a drink from the canteen he was carrying. She took it with a faint, grateful smile and tipped her head back to take a sip, “How’re you feeling? I know it can’t be easy…”

Carol lowered the canteen, her face darkened a little, her eyes looking sadly out over the forest as Sheon watched her quietly out of the corner of his eye; Andrea, listening in on the conversation, put a gentle hand on the other woman’s shoulder, giving her an understanding look.

“It’s okay, Carol…we know how you feel.” She told her kindly, offering a faint, reassuring smile as Carol looked at her. Her expression softened a little in gratitude.

“I suppose you both do.” She looked between Andrea and Sheon as she returned the latter’s canteen, “Thank you…” Drawing in a deep, unsteady breath, Carol let it out slowly again, shaking her head with misty eyes, “I guess just the thought of her being out here by herself…not knowing where or how she is…that’s what’s killin’ me the most. I guess I just keep hopin’ and prayin’ she won’t wind up like Amy.”

Something in Andrea’s expression at the mention of her dead sister pulled Carol up short, her eyes stretching in realization of what she’d just said, the fresh wounds she’d unintentionally agitated. Her hands flew to her mouth, covering it as she turned apologetically to Andrea.

“Oh, God!” Carol shook her head quickly back and forth, frowning, “That has been the worst thing I’ve ever said. I’m so sorry, Andrea.”

The blond blinked her eyes to suppress the tears that threatened to fill them as she sent the other woman a weak smile in the hope it would appear reassuring. Sheon squeezed Carol’s free shoulder as the rest of the Andersons look on empathetically.

“We’re all hoping and praying with you,” Andrea told Carol quietly, wetting her lips slowly as she did her best to appear strong. “If that’s worth anything, Carol.”

“I’ll tell y’all what that’s worth.” Daryl turned his attention to the trio, furrowing his brows so deeply it caused wrinkles in his forehead as he looked critically between Carol, Andrea, and Sheon, “Not a damn thing. It’s a waste of time standin’ ‘round hopin’ and prayin’. What’s going to help us locate that little girl is action and we are going to find her.” He gave Carol a meaningful look, “She’ll be just fine.” He turned and started to move away from the group now, casting a critical eye over everyone, his gaze lingering on Rose longer than anyone else, “Good lord, am I the only one zen around here?”

His words pull the rest of the Andersons up short as they stare after the hunter in surprise, Sheon exchanging a quiet look with Alex and Anna as Rose’s eyebrows rise quizzically; never in a million years would they have thought Daryl would know a word like that, let alone what it meant. It was…shocking, to say the least.

“He’s full of surprises, isn’t he?’ Alex mused, exchanging a look with his girlfriend before they peered at Rose out of the corner of their eyes to gauge her reaction. She was staring after Daryl with a mixed expression of surprise and…something neither of them could quite place. Was it admiration? Respect? Or…something else? The couple looked at one another again, a smile tugging at the corners of Anna’s mouth.

“He certainly is. Wouldn’t you agree, Rose?” The young woman leaned toward her elder sister, gently nudging her with an elbow when she failed to respond; Rose jumped, blinking back from her thoughts as she turned her attention to Anna. She flushed, as though embarrassed, and cleared her throat.

“U-Uh, yeah, he…he, uh…he is.” She rubbed her neck, avoiding looking at any of the others as Sheon and Glenn exchanged a sly look, “We should get going. We dawdle too long, and Rick’s group will reach the highway before we do. We don’t want them to worry.” She scurried off in the direction Daryl had gone before anyone else could make a comment, leaving the rest of the group to chuckle among themselves at her reaction before they moved to follow her.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

While the rest of their group was out looking for the little girl, Dale and Elijah take advantage of the time they have to rummage through the cars that blocked the highway, gathering whatever supplies the others had missed and scavenging parts they could use on their own cars. To them, the traffic snarl was like the goldmine they hadn’t known they’d been looking for.

“You two look like you’re having a hell of a time.” T-Dog watched from the door of Dale’s RV as he and Elijah went from car to car with a spring in their step he hadn’t seen before. Elijah looked over his shoulder as he took some hoses from a nearby truck to add to their bag.

“If you were in our shoes, wouldn’t you?” he grinned brightly, wiping his forehead on the sleeve of his shirt; T-Dog shook his head slowly in amusement, his gaze drifting away from the excited teen toward the forest, the smile slipping from his lips.

“It’s been a while…” he frowned, “Shouldn’t they have come back by now?”

“It’s still light out.” Dale pointed out patiently, wiping his hands on a rag he carried with him, “We shouldn’t start worrying just yet.” He caught sight of T-Dog’s face, pressing his lips together when he noticed the pale note to his complexion. “How’re you feelin’?”

T-Dog glanced at Dale out of the corner of his eye, then down, his eyes drifting closed as he leaned heavily back into the RV steps; Elijah looked over from the engine he was stripping and pulled his head out from under the hood.

“T?” He raised his brows quizzically, wiping his hands as he turned fully to face the older man. T-Dog didn’t open his eyes, just took in a slow breath, as though he didn’t want to answer that question. Elijah and Dale looked at one another, frowning together uneasily with a sinking feeling in their guts as they returned their attention to T-Dog.

“T-Dog, Dale just asked you something.” Elijah tucked his rag in a pocket of his jeans, frowning deeply, “Don’t blow it off like it’s nothing. Please.”

T-Dog slowly opened his eyes once more, returning his attention to Dale and Elijah with a half-glazed look in his expression that twisted into discomfort and pain, eyebrows furrowing over the bridge of his nose and lips pressing together as he squeezed his eyes shut again.

“It really, really hurts.” He admitted after a stretch of silence, tipping his head back as he held his injured arm, “Throbbing something awful…”

Elijah looked at Dale again and stepped up toward T-Dog, “Here, let me see.” He indicated for T-Dog to give him his arm, gently grasping his wrist and pulling him into a sitting position. T-Dog’s teeth grit together in pain, eyes flashing open as Elijah carefully grasped his upper arm, “Ah, d-don’t touch it!”

“It’s okay, I won’t.” Elijah gave T-Dog a reassuring look and carefully pulled back the bandage that covered his wound, his brows furrowing deeply; even though the wound had been cleaned and properly bandaged, T-Dog’s veins were showing signs of discoloration, badly contrasting against his dark colored skin. Carefully replacing the bandage, Elijah looked up at T-Dog again with furrowed brows.

“This is one hell of an infection.” He turned to speak with Dale, too, “We need to find him some antibiotics before this develops into blood poisoning.”

Dale’s brows pinch together at this news while T-Dog let out a low, humorless laugh, “Oh man…” he shook his head, leaning back into the RV steps again, “Wouldn’t that be the way? World’s gone to hell…the dead rise up to eat the living…and ol’ Theodore Douglas gets done in by a cut on his arm.”

“You’re not going to get done in by this.” Elijah squeezed his shoulder gently, shaking his head, “We won’t let it, we just need to try and find some antibiotics to help keep you stable until Christina gets back. Hopefully she’ll be able to do something about this.”

Dale nodded his head in agreement, even as he let his gaze sweep over the abandoned cars around them, pulling his hat off to run his hand over his balding head, “I’m surprised we haven’t been able to find something in the entire time we’ve been ransacking these cars…not even any ampicillin.”

“Could mean we haven’t been looking hard enough.” Elijah swept the bangs out of his gaze as he headed back toward the car he’d been working on, “There has to be something around here to help and we’re going to find it.”

Dale smiled to himself as he watched Elijah begin the search of the neighboring cars, admiring his optimism and willingness to do whatever he could for someone else, especially in their current situation and for someone so young. Replacing his hat, the elder turned to address T-Dog, who was fighting to keep his eyes open now, and put a hand on his shoulder.

“You look dead on your feet, T, maybe you should go lay down while Elijah and I look.” He coaxed T-Dog to his feet and ushered him inside to the beds in the back of the RV; while it would be good to have three people looking for the antibiotics T-Dog needed, they didn’t need him passing out on them in the middle of it nor did they want to leave Keith alone while they were looking. The RV would be closed and locked, just in case, but still, it would be better to have an adult nearby just in case another herd passed by, especially if Keith woke up and get upset. They wouldn’t be able to sooth the toddler if the RV was swarmed, let alone be able to save him, at least, not easily.

It was better to be safe than sorry, especially at a time like this; the last thing they needed right now was to lose another member of the group.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

While Hershel has returned to Carl’s bedside to get things ready to try removing the bullet shards from his abdomen, Rick is still broken up about the entire incident, even with Shane and Shawn’s reassurances that it wasn’t his fault. He blames his stubbornness on not giving up the search for Sophia when he should have and states he should have sent him back with Lori instead of letting him come with them, something that resonated strongly with both Shane and Shawn in that moment, knowing if he kept thinking like that, he would carry that guilt around with him for the rest of his life. They’d all done things they wished they could have changed, things they would’ve done different, but both men knew there was no point in dwelling on the what-ifs or the might have been, especially not now. They had to focus on the present now, on helping save Carl.

“Rick, you can’t blame yourself for this.” Shawn knelt beside Rick, squeezing his arm reassuringly as he looked up at the other man consolingly, “This was not your fault, you couldn’t have known this would have happened.”

“‘e’s right, man.” Shane nodded gratefully to the Anderson patriarch, tilting his head to see his best friend’s face better, his eyebrows pulling together, “And if you had, neither of us doubt you wouldn’t have tried to prevent it…we know you would have done anything to keep Carl from being shot.”

“But I didn’t…” Rick sniffed, running a shakily hand over his face into his hair, “I didn’t stop this when I should have…when I should have cut bait.” He squeezed his eyes, shaking his head miserably, “It should be me in there, not him…”

Pain flashed across Shane’s face at the memory of when Rick had been in this exact same position just before the world had gone to shit and the man had to take a moment to recollect himself before he could speak again, gulping back tears and forcing out a weak chuckle, “You’ve already been there, remember, partner?” He gave Rick a weak smile, wetting his lips slowly, “And you managed to pull through, even with all that’s happened. I’m sure Carl will, too.”

Shawn starts to nod his agreement as Rick sits up, taking a deep, albeit shaky, breath, “Is this the only reason I managed to get outta that hospital and found my family? So it could all end just as it started?” he choked on his words, eyes glimmering with tears, “Like some kind of sick joke?”

“Rick, stop it.” Shawn grabbed his hand, frowning at Rick from his position on the floor, “Just stop it, right now, you know that is not true. Everything you’ve done up until this point has been noble and good, no matter what anyone else says. You’ve been doing your very best for everyone, our group, for Sophia, your family. This was not your fault.” He gave the other man a meaningful look, willing him to believe his words, to understand this was not his fault as the door to Carl’s room opened, catching the men’s attention.

“Rick…” Maggie stepped into the space between the door and frame, indicating for the three to come inside as they each clambered quickly to their feet, “He needs blood.”

Rick leads the way into the room, where Carl is writhing and crying in agony on the bed while Hershel is searching for a bullet fragment through a small hole in his lower abdomen; Hershel instructs Shane and Shawn to hold Carl’s other arm and leg down while Patricia gets Rick prepped for the blood transfusion. Rick watches tearfully as Carl screams and cries out in pain, struggling against the men holding him down as Hershel works, the sound of his son in agony making his heart splinter even as Hershel did his best to reassure Carl he almost had the shard out.

“Stop it!” Rick yelled as Carl threw his bed back with a particularly heart wrenching scream, “You’re killin’ him!”

“Rick, calm down!” Shawn looked up at Rick reassuringly, “If you want Carl to live, Hershel needs to do what needs to be done! Please.” He indicated toward Patricia as she held a needle in hand; Rick glances at the Anderson patriarch out of the corner of his eye, nodding quietly before shoving the sleeve of his uniform up past his elbow and offering it to Patricia. She inserts the needle into the inside of his arm and preps an old-fashioned transfusion machine as Hershel extracts the bullet fragment; Carl’s body suddenly goes limp, head lulling to the side as he loses consciousness. Panic and heart ache flash across Rick’s face, but Shawn put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

“He’s okay…he’s just passed out.” He told him gently as he pulled up a chair from a corner of the room for Rick to sit on while Patricia set another needle into Carl’s arm next. Hershel takes a step back, putting the fragment into a shallow dish on the bedside table with a faint frown on his lips.

“That’s one down…five more to go.” He runs a hand down his face, watching Maggie help Patricia with the blood transfusion while Shane moves around the end of the bed to stand with Shawn. The only sound that fills the room now is that of the transfusion machine as it transfers blood from Rick to Carl, air pumping in through a glass chamber on top and releasing back out with a low hiss. Once the transfusion is complete, the needles are removed and Hershel checks Carl’s vitals. Everything seems to be where it needs to be, at least for the moment.

“Lori needs to be here…” Rick voices aloud as he watches his son sleep from his chair by the edge of the bed, pressing a patch of cloth to the inside of his elbow and lifting his eyes to Shane and Shawn, “She doesn’t even know what’s goin’ on.”

The duo moves to help Rick as he pulls himself out of his chair, following closely behind him as he left the room on unsteady feet, “I go-gotta go find her…bring her here.”

“You can’t do that.” Hershel came out of the bedroom behind them, frowning disapprovingly at Rick, who turned to frown back at him.

“But she’s his mother!” he argued, his voice unintentionally growing louder, “She needs to know what’s happened. That’s her son lying in there, shot.” He indicated back toward the bedroom.

“A son who’s going to need more blood.” Shawn argued gently, watching Rick empathetically with furrowed brows, “Rick, Carl is going to need you here, you can’t just up and leave. What if his blood pressure drops again and he needs another transfusion?” he and Shane directed Rick carefully into a chair in the living room. Hershel watched them quietly, nodding to Shane and Shawn to watch him before he returned to the bedroom to monitor Carl.

“Lori, she…she has to be here.” Rick inhaled sharply to suppress the sob that wanted to escape him, looking tearfully between the two other men as Shane sat next to him and Shawn knelt on the floor once more, frowning and rubbing his arm. “She’s got to know.”

“Okay, we know, we know.” Shane rubbed his best friend’s back, hating to see him so upset or distraught like this, “We’re gonna handle it, Rick, but you’re gonna have to handle your end, too.”

Rick looked slowly up at Shane, furrowing his brows a bit in confusion, “My…my end?”

“Yes, your end, here.” Shane nodded, “You know Shawn is right, Rick, you’re needed here to be with your son. Even if he didn’t need your blood to stay alive, there’s no way we’d let you leave this house, not right now. Hell, we’d break your legs if you tried.” He smiled weakly, half joking, “You have to know that, right?”

Shawn nodded his head in agreement, “He’s right, Rick, we wouldn’t let you leave Carl alone at such a crucial time. If I was in your shoes, I wouldn’t want to leave my kids for anything, not even to go find my wife to let her know. You know why? Because if something were to happen while I was gone…if one of my kids was to slip away before I could get the chance to say goodbye to them, I would never be able to forgive myself for it. You leave now, and Carl slips away, I know you wouldn’t ever be able to forgive yourself either…nor do I think Lori would. You have to stay here.”

Rick looks quietly at Shawn, who offers a faint, sad smile before glancing up at Shane and letting out a slow sigh, nodding, “You’re both right…”

The two men exchange looks, smiling faintly before returning their attention to Rick as Shawn squeezes his arm and moves to sit on the edge of the couch. Shane hums a bit, as though thinking about something as a smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

“You know, when you were in that hospital back home, you would’ve been real proud of Lori, man.” Shane smiled at his best friend out of the corner of his mouth, cocking his head, “I mean, she had this strength about her that I couldn’t even begin to describe…strength that you’re going to need now, Rick. Carl needs that from you, just like you needed it from him and Lori when it was you. So, you’d better fight and keep on, my friend.”

Shawn nodded his agreement, “He’s right, Rick, just keep believing and stay strong, for your family. They’re always going to be your biggest motivator.”

Shane smiled, bumping his shoulder against Rick’s, “And just leave all the rest to us, man. We’ll take care of it.”

Rick smiles at the two with a deep sense of gratitude for their help and support in all this while the bedroom door behind them opened once more and Hershel rejoined them.

“Well, he’s out of danger for the moment,” He was wiping his hands on a towel, furrowing his brows in concern as the three other men turned to face him, “But I need to get in there and remove those remaining fragments.”

Shawn looked quietly at Shane as Rick frowns deeply, his heart feeling heavy at the memory of Carl’s pained cries from earlier, “But how? You saw how he reacted before…”

Hershel nodded gravely, “I know and I’m afraid that the one I removed was the shallowest of the six. I’m going to have to go deeper to get out the rest.”

The three men felt their hearts drop at this and Rick ran a hand down his face as Shane messed with his hair and Shawn frowned, sensing there was more to the diagnostic.

“There’s more, isn’t there…?” He asked quietly, chewing his lip as Hershel gave a faint nod of agreement. Rick and Shane stared at him, encouraging him to continue as he heaved a heavy sigh.

“His belly’s distended and his blood pressure is dropping, meaning there’s internal bleeding. One of the other fragments must have nicked a blood vessel.” He absent-mindedly rolled the towel in his hands, “I’m going to have to open him up to find the bleeder and stitch it, but he can’t move while I’m working, at all.” His voice was deathly serious, “If he were to react the same as he did before, I could accidentally sever an artery and he’ll bleed out in minutes. For me to even attempt this, I would have to put him under. But then, he won’t be able to breathe on his own. Same bad results.”

Rick looked between Shane and Shawn before refocusing desperately on Hershel, “What do you need?”

“A respirator.” Otis spoke up from the dining room doorway, drawing the other men’s attention; he shifted uneasily from one foot to the other under Shane’s withering gaze. Hershel nodded to his friend in agreement.

“We’ll also need the tube that goes with it, extra surgical supplies, drapes, sutures.”

“If you had all that, would you be able to save him?” Rick looked hopefully at Hershel, who offered a kind smile.

“If I had those supplies, I could attempt it.” His expression saddened once more, “But I’m afraid the nearest hospital went up in flames about a month ago.”

“What about the high school?’ Maggie contributed from behind her father as Rick deflated a little at the news, “They did set up a FEMA shelter there. It could have everything we would need.”

Otis pinches his eyebrows, looking uneasy, “That place was overrun the last time I looked, couldn’t get near it…but, it’s been a while, so maybe it’s better now.” He tried to sound hopeful as he looked between Hershel and the other men. Shane volunteers to go on his own to get what they need, although Shawn and Rick openly protest the idea.

“We said we would handle everything else, both of us.” Shawn pointed out with a frown at the other man, crossing his arm, “You can’t go into such a dangerous place without someone to watch your back, Shane.”

“I’m going to have to.” Shane gave Shawn a understanding look, knowing he only wanted to help, “With Rick staying here, there’s one job that still needs to get done and that’s goin’ out to find Lori and tell her what’s happened. If you’re quick enough maybe you could even grab Christina and have her come help out with Carl.” Shawn frowns at the thought of putting his youngest daughter in a situation like this, but finally concedes, knowing Shane was right; they would need to go find Lori and the others to let them know what was going on and seeing as Rick needed to stay here while Shane was at the school, that only left Shawn for the job.

“Hey doc,” Shane had turned to address Hershel as Shawn mulled this over, “Could you do me a favor and write me out a list and a map?”

“Won’t need a map.” Otis spoke up again, drawing the others’ attention once more, “I’ll take you there. Ain’t more than five miles.”

Patricia’s eyes stretched wide as she hurriedly shakes her head back and forth, gently grabbing her husband’s arm to stop him, “Otis, no!”

Otis turned gently to his wife, putting a hand over hers’, “Honey, we don’t have time for guesswork and I’m the one responsible for that boy in there being hurt.” He nodded guiltily back toward the bedroom, “And I ain’t gonna sit here while this fella risks his life. I’ll be all right.”

“You sure about this?” Shane quirked a brow, eyeing Otis with an edge of mistrust; Otis nodded his head, turning his attention back to the ex-policeman.

“Do you even know what half the stuff we’re talking about looks like?” he quirked a brow curiously himself, watching Shane blink slowly in thought before a half-amused smile tugged at his lips while he shook his head. Otis straightened, “Well, I do, I’ve been a volunteer EMT before. Now we could talk about this ‘til next Sunday or we can go out and get this done real quick.”

Shane looked mildly impressed at Otis’ courage in offering his services and proving he would be an asset to him on this mission, “I think I’ll take right quick.”

Rick turned gratefully to Otis, a weak smile tugging at his lips, “I should thank you –“

Otis shook his head cutting Rick off before he could start, “Wait to do that ‘til that boy of yours is up and around, then maybe we’ll talk.” He excused himself to go gather a few things for the trip while Hershel hands Shane a list of what they need and a backpack to carry the supplies in. Shawn turns to ask Hershel if he can borrow a car to go find Lori and the others when Maggie offers to take him out on a couple of their horses. With Hershel’s permission, the pair head out for the stables with Shawn promising they would be back quick with Lori and Christina in tow.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Unfortunately for the boys on the highway, their search for antibiotics has yielded very few results; there are plenty of other things they’re able to find, like batteries for flashlights or lamps, clothes, a couple of water bottles and weapons and a guitar that was still in one piece, but nothing stronger than ibuprofen. They might as well have been looking for fresh water in the desert for all their effort…even if they now had plenty thanks to that abandoned delivery truck Shane had found the day before.

Well, they could hope the ibuprofen would at least help ease some of T-Dog’s discomfort while they waited for the others to get back.

T-Dog is still awake when Dale and Elijah go to check on him, staring out the window with glazed eyes, clutching at his injured arm with clenched teeth. Elijah sits carefully on the edge of Keith’s bed while Dale sits with T-Dog, patting his knee to get his attention.

“Any luck?” T-Dog rolled his head to look at the two, shifting to sit up straighter and hissing in a breath through his teeth as it aggravated his wound. Dale smiled faintly and rattled the bottle of pills in his hand, showing him the label.

“Best we could find, I’m afraid.”

T-Dog squeezed his eyes shut and rolled his head back, so his face was toward the window once more, inhaling slowly through his nose, “Man, what are we doin’?”

Dale cocked his head and exchanged a look with Elijah, who frowned his brow at the question, “Um…gathering supplies.”

T-Dog shook his head, turning back to the two, “No, I mean, what are we all doin’?” He glanced toward the window, “We got people off in those woods searching for that poor little girl while we’re here. And why?” When he looked at Elijah and Dale again, there was a strange look in his eyes that gave Elijah an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, “’Cause the four of us, we’re the weakest. I mean, we got a toddler no more than three,” He indicated toward Keith snoozing beside Elijah, “A teenager, a 70-year-old…”

Dale furrowed his thick grey brows, “I’m 64.”

T-Dog nodded absent-mindedly, “And the only black guy in the group.” He jabbed himself weakly in the chest, blinking to clear the glaze out of his eyes, “Either of you realize how precarious of a position that puts me in?”

Dale and Elijah looked at one another in concern, “The hell are you talking about, T?” Elijah frowned, watching T-Dog gesture vaguely toward the window.

“Talkin’ about those two good-old-boy cowboy sheriffs, your tricked-out ninja family and the redneck whose brother cut off his own hand ‘cause I dropped a key.” He smiled faintly, as though amused by something, “Just who do you think is gonna get lynched in that situation?”

Dale’s eyebrows rose in surprise as Elijah blinked slowly, as though he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing.

“Woah, woah, woah.” Elijah stood up, holding his hands out as though trying to stop T-Dog’s words in their tracks, “We can’t be hearing this right, I mean, we’re not missing something, are we?” He looked at Dale for confirmation, “I mean, forgive me if I’m wrong, but I seem to recall those cowboys have done all right by all three of us. Not to mention that redneck you’re talking about went out of his way to save your ass, not once, but multiple times.”

“Yes, and Elijah and his family have always had our backs.” Dale pointed out kindly, knowing the Andersons would sooner stand up for T-Dog and fight with him than throw him to a pack of hungry dogs. “Especially yours’.”

T-Dog closes his eyes slowly, “Let’s not forget about Andrea…kills her own sister.”

“After she was already dead.” Elijah pointed out sadly, remembering how big an impact Amy’s death had been to all of them. T-Dog just kept talking as if he hadn’t even heard him.

“Went to blow herself up…yeah,” he smiled again, “Andrea’s all there.”

“Andrea’s having a tough time.” Dale defended, frowning at T-Dog, wondering what had gotten into him all of the sudden, “What is wrong with you?”

T-Dog scoffed, his eyes flashing open as he gave Dale and Elijah a hard look, “Man, the whole world’s havin’ a tough time, if neither has noticed. Open your eyes!” His voice rose dangerously; Dale and Elijah shushed T-Dog as his voice startled Keith, causing the toddler to let out faint whimpers as he started to stir. “Just look at where we are, stuck in the middle of this mess!”

“T, please.” Elijah begged as he sat on the edge of the bed again, rubbing careful circles into Keith’s back to lull him back to sleep, “You know Keith gets cranky if he’s woken up too early.”

T-Dog ignored him, shaking his head quickly back and forth, “Let’s, let’s just go. Just take the RV and leave…”

Dale stared at T-Dog incredulously as Elijah carefully picked Keith up, leaning him into his chest and rocking the toddler in his arms, “You’ve gone off the deep end.”

“Nah, I mean it, man.” T-Dog shook his head so rapidly back and forth it made the others dizzy, “Why are we just waiting here, on the side of the road like we’re live bait? C’mon, let’s just go, the four of us, before they all get back.”

Dale glanced at Elijah out of the corner of his eye as the teen rocked back and forth with Keith in his arms, indicating toward T-Dog with his chin to tell him to check him for a fever. Dale leaned toward T-Dog, who leaned away a bit, as though afraid he was about to be hit, but Dale gave him a reassuring look and pressed the back of his hand to his forehead. His eyes stretched wide at the heat that rolled off T-Dog’s skin.

“Oh, my God, you’re burnin’ up.” He indicated for Elijah to get him a water bottle and the teen hurried to grab one from the kitchen; Dale tipped several of the pills onto his palm and passed them to T-Dog, “Take these.” He encouraged as Elijah handed over the water bottle, watching the older man throw the medicine back with about half the water, his eyes fluttering closed at the feel of the cool liquid sliding down his throat, “We’ve got to knock that fever down.”

“Keep an eye on him, Dale.” Elijah grabbed Keith’s blanket from the bed, adjusting his grip on the toddler as he wrapped it around him, “I’m gonna go up top and watch out for the others. Hopefully once Chrissy gets back, she’ll have something to help T.”

“We’ll keep our fingers crossed.” Dale nodded after Elijah as he left him to watch over T-Dog, sighing to himself as he hoped the youngest of the Andersons would at least have something to help with T-Dog’s symptoms before they got any worse. Dale wasn’t quite sure what natural herbal remedy would be able to help with something like this, but if they didn’t find something soon, T-Dog could go past the point of no return and that was something they wanted to avoid at all costs, even if it meant they had to go find antibiotics elsewhere. Something like that would have to be used as a last resort, though, considering their current circumstances. A resort they, hopefully, would not have to turn to.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The returning group is just about a hundred yards from the highway now, continuing their slow trek back with Daryl still leading the way, flanked by Sheon and Alex while the rest of the Andersons guard either side of the group, watching out for walkers and throwing the occasional glance over their shoulder with Lori to see if Rick’s group was catching up. The closer they get to the highway, though, without so much as a sign that Carl and the men were close by the more agitated and worried Lori gets, her mind still preoccupied with what could have happened and where the gunshot from before could have come from. The Andersons do what they can to console her, telling her the men would catch up soon while the others are more concerned with looking for clues of Sophia or getting back to the highway to rest since they’d all been on the move all day. Daryl points out they were almost there, telling them they only had about another hundred yards to go, according to the crows they can see flying off in that direction, likely drawn by food to scavenge. At one point, Rose looks behind them and notices she’s lost sight of Andrea, backtracking with the knowledge that the blond couldn’t be far, considering she wouldn’t wonder off on her own without the proper weapon.

(She certainly bitched about that enough…you’d think a sword would be good enough for her, but no, she can’t be content with anything but a gun.) Rose extracts an arrow from her quiver and fits it into her bow as movement catches the corner of her eye, colors that contrasted those of the forest which made her turn as a piercing scream broke the serene silence. Rose spots Andrea as she trips over her own feet trying to get away from the single walker lumbering up on her from around a fallen tree, grabbing at her kicking feet as she screams for help. Rose lifted her weapon to eyelevel, aimed, and let the arrow fly, watching it hit it’s target as the sound of hooves beating the ground grew louder from further off. The group rushes to Andrea’s side to see if she’s okay as a pair of horses come galloping into view, slowing to a stop before them as their riders pulled back on the reins.

“Lori.” Shawn looks down at them from atop a chestnut stallion, who tossed its head, unnerved; he tightened his hold on the reins, rubbing the horse’s mane gently as the group looks on with big eyes. “Christina, we need you both to come with us. Now.”

“Why, wh-what’s going on?” Lori frowned as she looked between Shawn and the young woman who had ridden up with him, that bad feeling in her gut intensifying as the Andersons frowned at their patriarch.

“No time for introductions right now, you both need to come, there’s been an accident.” Shawn indicated for Christina to come toward him and held out a hand for his youngest daughter to take as Alex helped her up onto the horse behind him, “Carl’s been shot.”

Lori’s eyes stretched wide as the group inhaled sharply at the news, although the young brunette shook her head, “He’s still alive, but we need you both to come, now. Rick and my dad need you.”

Lori looked around at the rest of the group, then at Shawn, who nodded encouragingly as the young woman offered her a hand up; she took it and Sheon helped her up onto the horse as well while the others looked on in shock.

“Whoa-whoa-whoa, wait.” Daryl grabs the reins on Shawn’s horse to stop him before they can take off again, pinning him with a glare, “What the hell do you expect the rest of us to do? Just sit here twiddlin’ our thumbs?”

“Rick and Shawn told us about how you’re all stuck on the highway,” The young woman, Maggie, spoke up, earning Daryl’s glare now, “Camped out at that big traffic snarl, right? Well, you backtrack, you’ll be able to find a turn off onto Fairburn road. Our farm is two miles down. The mailbox will say Greene on it.” She turned her horse away as Shawn gently pulled the reins from Daryl’s hands and prodded the horse forward.

“Grab Dale, T, Elijah, and Keith and we’ll see you all there!” He called over his shoulder before he disappeared through the brush once more, leaving the rest of the group to stare after him before exchanging looks among themselves while Daryl grumbled something unintelligible under his breath. Rose collected her arrow from the walker that had attacked Andrea and wiped it off on her jeans.

“Well, the sooner we get going, the sooner we can meet up with them.” She returned the arrow to her quiver, “C’mon.”

The remaining distance back to the highway is travelled in silence as everyone is caught up in their own thoughts about what had just happened, wondering if Carl was okay and if they would be able to save him. Dale and Elijah are waiting for them by the time they arrive, asking what had happened and appearing shocked when they heard the news about Carl’s accident, although since none of the others know what exactly happened, they can’t give either of them much of a report. Once they knew they wouldn’t be able to get much of a story of that, they instead ask about the screaming they heard and show concern when Rose tells them Andrea had been attacked by a walker, but when they go to ask if she was alright, she gives them an angry look over her shoulder as she’s climbing into the RV before slamming the door behind her. Dale and Elijah can do little more than blink after her and look at one another with identical frowns marring their features.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Upon reaching the Greene farm with Lori and Christina in tow, the two are introduced to Hershel and his family before Lori is let in to see Carl while he’s asleep in the bedroom. She and Rick are given time to talk and grieve over the incident while Shawn explains to Hershel about Christina’s help with handling the medical responsibilities of their group and her learning from her mother when she was still alive. Although she’s inexperienced, Hershel decides it was better Christina learn with a professional than if she was to do it on her own and invites her to help him and Patricia with the operation once they have everything they need. She accepts the offer readily, promising she’ll do her best to aid them however she’s able, for which the elder is grateful and he takes Christina under his wing in time to show her how to perform a blood transfusion as Rick has to donate to Carl again before they can sit down to talk about what needs to be done. The conversation is moved into the dining room, where Hershel encourages Rick, unsteady on his feet and light-headed from giving so much blood already, to drink some orange juice to get some nutrients back in his system.

“How many transfusions has he given already?” Lori looked quizzically up at Shawn as he leans his forearms on the back of one of the chairs at the dining room table, rubbing his chin with a hand.

“Two so far.” He watched Rick closely out of the corner of his eye as Christina encouraged him to drink as much of the orange juice as he possibly could. Lori nodded and returned her attention to her husband as she rubs his back in slow circles.

“You know, he wanted to do the same for you when you were hospitalized.” She smiled weakly at the memory, “Had to talk him out of it.” Rick gave a faint smile in return, closing his eyes for a moment to regain his bearings while Lori sobers and turns a scathing gaze on Hershel, who had just finished explaining the situation to her. “Okay, so let me get this all straight, when Shane gets back with this other man –“

“Otis.” Hershel told her calmly, watching her eyes flash with the protective gleam of a mother bear, her lips pursed tight.

“Otis…” The name left her lips like it was a curse, her free hand gripping the back of one of the chairs so tight her knuckles turned white, “The idiot who shot my son.”

“Ma’am, it was a accident.” Hershel said gently, frowning in understanding at the anxious look on Lori’s face. “I will take that into consideration later, but for now, he’s the idiot who shot our son.”

“Lori, Hershel and his people are doing everything they can to fix this.” Shawn pointed out gently, giving the woman an imploring look to understand. She heaved a heavy sigh, not completely placated, “All right…as soon as they’re back, you’ll be able to perform this surgery?” She eyed Hershel again as he nodded his head in agreement.

“Patricia, Christina, and I will certainly do our best.”

“So, you’ve done this procedure before?” Lori probed, somewhat cautious as she narrowed her eyes. Hershel ran a hand over his beard, humming, “In a sense, yes.”

Lori raised her eyebrows, immediately alert and on edge, “In a sense?”

“Honey,” Rick put a shaky hand on her arm, “We don’t exactly have the luxury of shopping for a surgeon.”

Lori shook her head quickly back and forth, holding a hand out, “I understand that, but I need to get this straight. You are a doctor, aren’t you?” She pinned Hershel with a hard stare, lips pressing together into a thin line as he nodded.

“Yes ma’am, of course.” There was a look to Hershel’s eye that made Shawn quirk a brow quizzically as he glanced at his daughter, “A vet.”

Lori seemed to relax a little, eyebrows raising once more, “A veteran, as in a combat medic?”

Hershel smiled sadly, shaking his head, “A veterinarian.”

Shock masked Lori’s face, her eyes stretching wide for a brief lapse before her jaw clenched, “A vet…” she whispered, rolling the word around in her mouth, testing it, “A vet vet. So you’ve done this kind of surgery before on what, exactly?’ Her voice pitched higher, “Cows…pigs?”

Rick suddenly swayed in place, his vision swimming and Shawn was immediately by his side, grabbing his arm to keep him upright as he accidently knocked over his half full glass of orange juice; Hershel hurried to right it as Christina grabbed something to wipe up the spilled juice and Lori held Rick’s other arm, carefully moving him into a chair at the table. She pinned Hershel with glare, her eyes wild.

“You’re completely in over your head, aren’t you?” she hissed, clutching tight to Rick’s arm as he leaned into the table; Hershel offered a smile that was half apologetic, half understanding, “Ma’am, I think we all are, don’t you?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Things are not going all too well back at the highway; in light of the recent events, the group knows they’re going to need to move to the farm they’d been told about and abandon their post, an idea that does not sit well with everyone. Despite everyone else’s reassurances that they would be safe to regroup, Carol refuses to abandon their post so long as her daughter is still missing, pointing out Sophia would only be further lost if she managed to get back to the highway only to find that they were gone. This prompts the group to stop and think through their options before they did anything.

“What if we were to wait one more night?’ Sheon suggested from where he was leaning against the Andersons’ RV, his arms crossed over his chest, “Some of us could stay here, rig up a big sign, leave some supplies for Sophia, then pull up stakes tomorrow morning.”

“Come back out here at least once a day after that.” Alex agreed, nodding his head, “It could work. But some people will need to go to the farm, help Rick and Lori with Carl.”

“What if we kept one of the RVs here, then?’ Rose cocked her head, “At least give her something to look for if she does find her way back. The rest of us could take the other RV, one of the cars and head on over to this farm to join up with the others.”

“I’ll stay out here with my RV.” Dale offered, earning a grateful look from Carol, “Give you kids the chance to catch up with your dad and get that little one of yours’ somewhere safe.” He nodded to Sheon, who offered a grateful smile in return.

“Actually, I think I’d like to stay here tonight.” Rose spoke up again, clearing her throat, “I…I want to at least see if Sophia shows up, make sure she’s okay. You guys head on over to that farm with dad.” She gave her family a reassuring smile as they frowned at her, unsure, “I’ll be okay here with everyone. I’ve gotta see this through.”

The Andersons looked at one another, unsure, before sighing in agreement, knowing they wouldn’t be able to change her mind as Sheon told her to be careful while they each gave her a hug.

“You four wouldn’t mind taking Glenn and T-Dog along with you, would you?” Dale asked, drawing the Andersons’ attention.

Glenn looked over at the sound of his name, frowning, “Why is it always me?”

“They’re gonna need help finding this farm so y’all can reconnect with our people and find out what’s going on.” Dale told him seriously, giving the young man an understanding look, “And you’re going to need to help them make sure T-Dog gets there safe. It’s not an option.”

Elijah nodded his head, glancing over to where T-Dog was leaning heavily into the back bumper of Dale’s RV, his skin glistening with sweat and eyes clenched tight in pain, “He’s right…T’s cut has gone from bad to worse, meaning he’s got a serious blood infection. He needs to get to that farm, it could have the antibiotics he needs. If they don’t…” He trailed off sadly, glancing between the others, who looked back in understanding, knowing what he meant without him even having to say it aloud.

“Y’all wait ‘til now to say anything?’ Daryl gruffed as he walked over to his brother’s motorcycle, which was parked between both RV’s, and dug into one of the side bags, “I’ve got my brother’s stash here.” He pulled out a plastic bag filled with orange prescription bottles and began digging through it for what he needed, “Crystal, x –“

Dale scrunched is nose, shaking his head, “Don’t need anything like that.”

Daryl pulled out one of the bottles and tossed it to Dale, “There’s some kick ass painkillers, doxycycline. Nona that generic stuff either. It’s first class.” He closed the bag again and returned it to the motorcycle while the others stared at him in surprise; he glanced up, quirking a brow at their shocked expressions and gave a noncommittal shrug, “Merle got the clap on occasion.”

“You make it sound like something as harmless as the common cold.” Rose crossed her arms as she eyed the hunter as Elijah went to give T-Dog some of the painkillers while the rest of the Andersons and Glenn got ready to leave. Daryl shrugged again, “Hey, take it or leave it, princess, just be grateful for it. Could save his life.” He pointed toward T-Dog as Elijah coaxed water down his throat while he led him toward Carol’s Cherokee, where Glenn was waiting. Rose sighed, running her fingers through her bangs as she nodded in agreement.

“Well…beggars can’t be choosers, can they? Especially not nowadays.”

Daryl’s only response was to huff through his nose in agreement.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The situation on the farm is growing steadily worse the longer they’re having to wait for Shane and Otis to return with the necessary equipment; Carl’s blood pressure continues to drop at an alarming rate, prompting Hershel to tell Lori and Rick they’re going to have to come to a decision soon about what they should do. Without the surgery, Carl would die due to the internal bleeding, leaving them with the option to go through with it without the anesthetic, which is even more of a risk. Rick tells Hershel to take more blood from him to give to Carl and says he’ll go look for Shane and Otis on his own.

“You told us it was only five miles.” Rick reminded Hershel desperately, still holding out his arm in offering, “They should have been back by now, which means something is wrong.”

“Are you insane?” Lori stares, wide-eyed, at her husband, as though unable to believe what he was saying, “You are not going after them.”

“Lori’s right, Rick, you have to think this through.” Shawn put a hand on Rick’s shoulder, frowning at him in concern, “You can’t drive out there, let alone be able to handle whatever trouble Otis and Shane got into. Not with how much blood you’ve given already. I mean, look at you!” He indicated toward how unsteady Rick was on his feet, leaning heavily into the bed to keep himself upright.

“You wouldn’t be able to make it across the yard.” Hershel agreed with a grim nod. Rick shakes his head, stubborn, “Something’s happened, I have to go.”

“No, your place is here, Rick.” Lori told him, her voice hard, “If Shane said he’ll be back, he will be, he’s just like you in that regard.”

Rick sank weakly into a chair, “I can’t just sit here…”

“That is exactly what you are going to do!” Lori screamed, grabbing Rick’s shoulders and forcing him around to look at her, “If you need to pray or cry or tell God he’s cruel, you can go right ahead, but you are not leavin’ Rick! Carl needs you here….” Her voice broke, tears filling her eyes and escaping down her cheeks, “I…I can’t…do this by myself.” She clenched her eyes, shaking her head, “Not this one, I-I can’t…I can’t…”

Rick stares at his wife in half stunned silence, gently reaching up to put his arms around her waist and pull her into him, letting her bury her face into his shoulder and sob; Shawn watches them, smiling reassuringly at Rick as he squeezed his free shoulder.

“They need you here, Rick, you know that. It’s just like Shane said, your place is here.” He told him gently, “You just leave the rest to us, okay? I’m going to go and find out what’s wrong, I’m going to bring back what’s needed to save Carl.”

Christina looked up at her father, frowning, “You can’t go alone, daddy, what if something big happened? What if you get swarmed?”

“It’s a risk I need to take, Chrissy.” Shawn smiled reassuringly at the teen as he excuses himself from the room; Hershel sets Patricia and Christina to starting another transfusion and follows him out, stopping him before he’s out the door.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Shawn?” The elder frowned at him and sighed as he nodded in return, “All right…I’ll give you a map and the keys to my car. Just give me a minute,” He disappeared into the kitchen and returned a few minutes later with what Shawn needed, handing the keys and map over to him, “It’s a fairly straight shot there, just follow the route on the map.” He tapped the map, “The high school should be easy to spot.”

Shawn smiled gratefully at Hershel, “Thank you, Hershel. I promise I’ll get them back here as quick as I can. Oh, and,” he stopped and turned back, “if I’m not back by the time the rest of my family arrives, tell Sheon and Alex to come help me. I might not have time to wait, but I’d rather have the back up late than never.”

Hershel inclined his head in understanding, “I’ll be sure to let them know.” He promised, “Be careful out there!” he watched Shawn disappear into the darkness outside, the screen doorswinging back into place behind him with a loud bang; the engine of Hershel’s jeep roared to life just out of sight not a second later and he stepped up to the screen in time to watch the vehicle peel away from the house toward the main road, letting out a slow sigh under his breath. “Lord keep such a brave, courageous man in your sight and may he stay in your good graces. Not just for the boy’s sake, but his family’s, too. Amen.”

Notes

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