- New fic. My brain wouldn't allow me to continue with 'Loss and Gain' until I started this one out as well because this story idea has just been banging around in my brain. Get ready to be introduced to a Rick that you guys may not recognize. Hope you like. Review and tell me what you think. -

Chapter One: What Used to Be

The darkness of the room surrounded Rick as he laid in bed, his mind empty save of shadows. Shadows that followed him around wherever he went...whatever he was doing. He had committed himself to trying to forget. To forget her – his wife. To forget him – his son. And he succeeded...Somewhat.

In the daytime hours, he had managed to block their memories by keeping himself busy. It was a good day when he felt numb. When he didn't feel.

But things were difficult in the night. There was nothing to distract him. Nothing but the darkness that collected every image of the times past. The happy times when he would wake up every Sunday morning to the smell of bad pancakes. His wife had never been good at making them. He missed the way her hair fell over and around her shoulders as she moved around in the kitchen.

And he would never be able to forget his son, Carl's, blue eyes, smiling knowingly at him – knowing that they were both going to force themselves to swallow the unappetizing food and say they liked it because they knew it would make her happy.

"Lori..." Rick whispered into the darkness.

He closed his eyes, willing it away. The memories that threatened to come and bear down on him. He didn't want them. He didn't want to feel.

He needed a distraction.

He turned over to wrap his arm around the blonde woman by his side, waking her from her sleep. She stirred, her skin warm and naked against his.

He had found the only distraction in the darkness to be the distraction of another human being. To feel soft, warm skin beneath his hands. Skin that he could imagine to be hers.

He had lost himself in this world long ago. This world for the dead. He didn't know what kept him going anymore. For a year, it had been the thought of finding them again. His family. But slowly, that hope was leaving him. Now he wasn't sure if there was any hope left. He didn't know why he kept going. Maybe it was pure bullheadedness.

He pushed his hardness into the woman he chose to share tonight with. Jessie Anderson. He had had her many times before. It was easy with her. She was open with him. Willing. Sometimes even eager. There was a sense of bleakness and hopelessness with the other women that he didn't quite like. But they were sufficient when he wanted a taste for something different.

"Ah..." Jessie moaned softly as Rick entered her spot of pleasure from behind. His hand came around to stimulate her bud of nerves. "Ohh," she moaned again.

She hadn't expected to be woken up to his attentions once again. She thought he had worn himself out in the hours before. Her plan after the first act had been to slip out in the middle of the night when Rick had fallen asleep to find her way back to her husband's bed. She had thought maybe he wouldn't need to know that Rick had chosen her again. Maybe she could escape his anger. But that plan was out the window. She had fallen asleep. Her husband, Pete, was probably aware of her absence by now.

She pressed her face into her pillow to muffle her moans as Rick's thrusts and his ministrations against her center grew more insistent.

She staved off her moans for a few moments more as Rick brought himself to the peak of his sexual act. Knowing that he was close, she allowed her own body to succumb to the pleasure and soon waves of satisfaction was sending shocks through her body.

Rick withdrew quickly and Jessie felt his proof of release fall against her back.

She breathed deeply, Rick's own heavy breaths falling on her ears.

The first early morning rays of dawn began to creep into the room. Jessie closed her eyes, dreading leaving the bed. Dreading facing her husband. Dreading facing the day.

"...Rick?"

There was a moment of silence before Rick responded. "Hm?"

"...Can I stay here? With you?"

"No," Rick answered. He threw the covers back, sat up, and began to pull his clothes on. Daytime was coming. He was ready to forget.

Jessie sighed and sat up. This wasn't the first time she had asked so she wasn't particularly surprised by his answer. It was always the same. She was hoping it would change, though. She didn't know how much longer she could live the life she was living with her husband. She was...afraid.

Because Rick was the leader of their little community and because so many people owed him so much – he had control of everything. Nothing happened without his say-so. No one had anything he didn't allow them to have. And he could either allow someone to have everything. Or nothing.

It was months ago when Rick began to claim women for his own as well. Whether they were taken or not. It didn't matter. The boyfriends...husbands...couldn't do anything lest they wanted to risk being cut off from needed supplies, killed...Or worse. Exiled. No one wanted to be exiled. Not while the dead were roaming the Earth.

Not her husband. He wasn't willing to risk anything. Not for her.

"He hurts me," Jessie said. Admitting for the first time why she didn't want to go back to her husband. "My husband. He hurts me."

Rick finished pulling on his boxers, snapping the band around his waist. He looked over his shoulder at the woman behind him. She was sitting up and looking at him with wide eyes. As if he could really help her. As if he had all the answers.

"You want me to kill him?" Rick asked.

Jessie's eyes widened further. She thought of her kids, Ron and Sam. Sam was young...ten years old...Ron was a teenager. They needed their father. No matter how horrible he was. "No," she said. "No."

"Then I can't help you," Rick responded shortly. "Leave."

Jessie's heart clenched with hopelessness and fear. No matter how ruthless or dangerous Rick was when he was angry, he never hurt her. That's more than she could say for her husband. "...Please..." she whispered again softly. Afraid to continue asking for something he had already refused but also needing to get out from under Pete's thumb. There was something inside of her that said it was now or never.

Rick turned over his shoulder with an irritated sigh. When he was met with her wide, fearful eyes, the muscles in his jaw jumped as he clenched his teeth. This was an unwanted and petty problem that he didn't want to deal with. Not when real problems were out there...like this new threat from a group that called themselves The Saviors and rumors of people walking around wearing walker-skin masks to blend into the world out there. "Death or exile?" he asked the woman. "Otherwise it's nothin' at all."

He sat and stared at her with his head cocked, deceptively patient. "I-" Jessie stammered. "I-I don't want him to di-"

"Death or exile."

"The kids-"

"Death or exile."

When he still didn't get an answer, he got up off of the bed, ready to move on to some other order of business.

"Wait!" Jessie called.

Rick paused in his tracks, waiting for her decision.

Her voice barely rose above a whisper when she decided. "D-death..."

Rick rubbed the pads of his fingers together, wondering how he would go about killing the town doctor, and then he nodded. Might as well keep things simple and direct.

He showed up at the Andersons' residence a few minutes later with Jessie a frightened Jessie at his heels. When he knocked and the door was opened to him by a haggard-looking Pete with bloodshot eyes, he surmised that the man had been hitting the bottle throughout the night.

Pete's eyes went from Rick to his wife and his lip curled. But he didn't dare to say anything. He only opened the door wider and reached out for his wife's arm to pull her inside. But Rick stepped in front of him, stopping the action. Pete turned a glare to the man and then cast his eyes downward. "What is it?" Pete slurred. "You need me to get on duty?"

Rick rolled his eyes. Maybe he should have done this a long time ago. It would only be doing the community a favor. No one needed a drunk doctor. He pulled his Cold out of his holster and held it loosely at his side. Pete's eyes went to it curiously and then back up to Rick's face.

Rick was about to hoist the weapon when a small pair of feet came down the stairs and into view. Jessie's youngest son Sam emerged rubbing sleep from his eyes. The pajamas he wore almost engulfed his body. "Mom?" he asked, as his eyes fell on Jessie.

A wince of annoyance shot across Rick's face. He hated complications. "Take the boy somewhere else," he growled to Jessie.

"Sam, get in the closet, sweetheart," Jessie said, her voice shaky. "Like mama showed you."

Sam blinked at his mother curiously and looked between her, his father, and Rick. He knew that getting in the closet meant something bad was about to happen. He turned, obeying his mother's words and went towards the closet. Rick glanced at Jessie questioningly. When he said 'take the kid somewhere else,' he had meant away from the house.

"What's going on?" Pete asked.

Rick tore his eyes away from Jessie as Pete's question interrupted his silent questioning of her decision.

Rick studied Pete for a moment. The man's clothes were hanging off of him, and he looked like he would fall over. "Pete," Rick started. "Would you say that Doctor McCloyd has become efficient at her job? Has she improved since we first brought her in?"

Pete thought for a moment. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah. She's a good doctor. She can do anything I can do; maybe even better..."

Rick scowled when the man offered up a small, cheesy smile. Even though he obviously was feeling rage. Even though he obviously wanted to kill the two people on his doorstep. His faux niceties were an irritation. Rick had never liked that about the other man. "Good," Rick said, responding to the man's observations about their other resident doctor, Denise McCloyd. "Because we'll be needing her services a lot more around here."

"Why?" Pete asked. "What do yo-?"

A bullet to the brain cut Pete's question off, the shot ringing through the early morning emptiness of the streets in Rick's community. A place he had named the Alexandria Safe Zone. Jessie gave a short scream as the gun went off. She had been preparing herself for it, but it still felt...shocking. She watched as blood eased out of Pete's wound and onto the floor of what used to be her home. But it hadn't been her home for a long time. She leaned against the door jamb of the house and caught her breath.

"There's been a job opening..." Rick said, in response to Pete's question. He holstered his weapon, looked toward the closet he knew Sam to be in and looked back to Jessie. "I'll have someone come and collect his body," he said, rubbing the pads of his finger together. He glanced away when her blue eyes came back to his face. "You pull things together. I'll find someone else to occupy my time in the meantime."

He walked off as people began to come out of their houses, wondering what the noise had been about.

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"You coming back to Ezekiel's, Michonne?" Matthew asked as Michonne dismounted her horse.

She had just gotten back from a visit at The Hilltop, a community about two days' travel from where they were, and she was feeling exhausted. They had received bad news.

Ever since she had found this community with her family, she had been happy to finally have a place to settle down in after four months of surviving out there with just those things. It was almost like they had found normalcy again, and they had been living at this place for nine months now. They had a trade system with The Hilltop wherein they supplied weapons and in return, The Hilltop supplied food. But they had just come to find out that The Hilltop was having to cut and ration their food supplies due to some new group running around, calling themselves The Saviors.

The Saviors were using force and intimidation to take half the food supplies from The Hilltop without trading anything in return. So basically they were bullies taking someone else's lunch money. And apparently weapons didn't mean anything if there were no fighters or soldiers to wield them. Michonne knew that the residents of The Hilltop were more peaceful than the warlike soldiers here at The Kingdom, but she thought at least their numbers would give them an advantage on anyone who tried to forcefully breach their borders. But apparently The Saviors had quite a large number of people too, and the Hilltop was just not prepared to fight anyone. They were used to living in peace.

And since The Hilltop had to cut their rations, they had to cut their trading supply to The Kingdom. Not only that, but there was another community that The Hilltop was trading with that the people of The Kingdom didn't even know about. The Alexandria Safe Zone. Michonne sighed. It was a lot of news to take in, and she didn't particularly want to be there when Ezekiel heard of it.

"You go on," Michonne said to Matthew. "I'm going to go see Mike."

Matthew looked down at her with compassion on his face. "You two back on speaking terms again?"

"No," Michonne said, leading her horse away. "But I have a right to see my son."

As Matthew went to report to Ezekiel, Michonne led her horse to the stable and then made her way to the house that used to be her home. Three knocks on the door prompted Mike to open it. His face fell noticeably when he saw who was there, and he frowned.

"What are you doing here?" Mike asked. Andre, Michonne's four-year-old son was hoisted in his arm.

"Mom!" the small boy said, reaching out for her.

Michonne smiled and stared at her son. She wanted to take him into her arms, but she knew Mike would fight her on that and she understood why. "I came to see Andre," Michonne said. She pushed her hands into the back pockets of her jeans to restrain herself from reaching out to touch him. The white button-up she wore – made sleeveless because she had to tear one off to make a makeshift bandage for a cut on her arm and then she tore the other sleeve off to match – stretched taut across her skin. "Can I come in?"

Mike looked her up and down. The sword she had attached to herself like an appendage since all of this started was slung across her back. Speckles of blood marred her shirt in places and her jeans were torn and dirty. He wondered what she had gotten into to look so battered, but then he didn't care. It was none of his business. She had made it clear that this family didn't mean anything to her a long time ago. "No," he said. "You've seen him. Now you can go." He stepped back to close the door in her face, but she blocked it with her hand.

"Look. Mike..." she said, staring into his scowling face. "I know you feel like I turned my back on you and Dre, but-"

"No, I don't think. You did. You turned your back on us." Michonne shook her head. "We're safe now, Michonne! Safe! You don't have to be out there risking your life against those things! You said you would stop fighting once we found a place like this, but you just keep on! Like you're running away. Like you don't wanna be here with your family."

"I do wanna be here, Mike. I do! It's because of you and Dre that I'm out there every day! Don't you see that?"

"You don't have to be-"

"You don't know that! You don't know that we're safe! You act like you don't remember what it was like! People can't be trusted anymore! They're worse than those dead things! I got us here! I did! I led us to this place! I'm doing this to keep Andre safe!"

Mike nodded, pain and anger on his face. "Yeah. There you go again. I get it, Michonne. I get it. You got us here. Fine. I didn't do anything. I'm useless. You're the survivor. We'd be dead if it weren't for you; I know that-"

"That's not what I'm saying-"

"Isn't it?"

Michonne took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to keep herself together so that she could say the right words. "I'm not," she said, calmer. "I just-" Her eyes looked longingly at Andre. "It's not fair that you're keeping me from him," she finished simply.

"I"m not keeping you from him," Mike said. "If you really wanted to be with him, we both know there's nothing I could do to stop you." He stared into Michonne's eyes. "No. You're not with Andre because you don't want to be with Andre." Michonne's eyes flew to Andre fearfully. How could he say something like that when their son was right there? Her eyes filled with tears and she shook her head, silently communicating to Andre that it wasn't true even though she wasn't sure if he fully even understood what was going on in that moment. "You know, as much as I do, Michonne," Mike continued. "That you've changed since this all started. You know you've become just as monstrous as those people out there and you're doing what's good for this family...by staying away."

He let that land with Michonne and then stepped back into the house, closing the door in her face.

Michonne fought back her tears before she turned on her heel and made her way back to the mansion that Ezekiel occupied. He called it his castle. And he called himself the king.

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"The right amount of food supplies haven't been coming because they can't supply us properly anymore," Matthew was saying as Michonne walked into the expansive living room of the mansion. A staircase winded up to rooms on the second floor that housed some of Ezekiel's most trusted advisers. She was one of them. She had moved in here when things had ended with Mike seven months ago.

The large living room was practically empty. There was only a long varnished table settled lengthwise across the marble flooring and Ezekiel sat behind it. Right in the center. In a high-back, ornate chair. Filling the rest of the room were two black couches sitting facing each other and an armchair sat adjacent to them both – the set up was that of a 'u' shape, with the armchair facing the table and Ezekiel towards the back of the room. Michonne sat in that armchair. Her entrance wasn't acknowledged due to the business being discussed at hand.

"And you said this other place they've been supplying is called Alexandria Safe Zone?" Ezekiel asked.

Ezekiel was an older man with gray dreads that fell past his shoulders. But he was well-built. And despite his obsession with The Middle Ages and his affinity to tell corny jokes, he was serious and a good leader.

"Yeah," Matthew said. He was kneeling on the floor on one knee as if he was addressing a real king.

"Why am I just now hearing about this place?" Ezekiel asked. "Why did they keep it from us?"

"I don't know," Matthew said. "They said it just never came up."

Ezekiel chortled. "I never fully liked that weasel of a man, Gregory." Gregory was the name of the leader of Hilltop. Michonne couldn't say she liked him much either. He was vain and self-absorbed. It was no wonder his community was in the predicament it was in. He would bend over backwards for these Saviors in order to keep the illusion of splendor and perfection that he had going there. His people probably didn't even know about the threat. They were probably just going about their lives clueless and ignorant of any danger.

Michonne pulled one leg up into the chair and continued to listen to what Ezekiel would be doing about this new problem.

"Well, we can't grow very many crops," Ezekiel said. "We don't have the land for it. And we can't just attack The Hilltop and take their things – we're not those type of people. Even though...since they're letting themselves get pushed around, it's clear that...we can take 'em." He smiled and winked at Michonne. She smiled back.

"What do you suggest we do, Princess?" He directed the question toward Michonne.

She smiled and stood up, walking to the middle of the room where Matthew was. She had been expecting him to ask her what she thought. He always did. Michonne usually wasn't one to bask in favoritism, but she enjoyed the value that Ezekiel placed on her opinions. She and her father had never been close in the old world, so she enjoyed and appreciated the attention she got from Ezekiel. He was a genteel father figure in her life.

"Kneel before me," Ezekiel said, gesturing towards where she stood.

Michonne glanced over at Matthew, who was still kneeling with his head bowed. "Yeah, I'm not doing that," she said.

Ezekiel laughed. He hadn't expected her to do so. She never did. "So what do you think?" he asked. "How should we handle this unexpected turn of events?"

"Well..." Michonne said. "First...I think we need to visit this Alexandria Safe Zone."

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Rick Grimes had a group of people that were loyal to him to a fault. These were people who had helped him to build the ASZ up to the community it was today. Some of these people were Glenn Rhee and his wife Maggie Greene, Carol, Sasha and her brother Tyreese, Abraham, Daryl Dixon, Rosita, and Tara. They were his inner circle. He had saved many of their lives and gotten them out of many sticky situations. Which had led them to this place and his vision of rebuilding society. There had been hiccups along the way. Losses. An attack from a madman who called himself the Governor. But Rick had kept fighting. Kept going strong. The man was a natural-born leader.

But someone had to talk to him...

Glenn and Abraham stared down at the body in the Andersons' doorway. So did a lot of other people. Maggie tried to shoo them away but the people were slow moving as they stared down at Rick's handiwork.

"...Can't say I didn't see this comin'..." Abraham said, his thumbs tucked into his belt buckle.

Glenn looked up at Abraham with a perplexed expression. "You knew that Rick was going to start shooting doctors in their doorways?"

"No," Abraham said. "But you gotta admit...the man's been goin' off the deep end for a while now." He went towards Pete's feet and gestured toward the man's head, indicating that Glenn should take that end. Glenn did so. They hoisted him up with grunts and walked him quickly towards the gurney that Rosita and Dr. McCloyd had brought out. They laid him down on it. "Every day that goes by without him findin' his wife and kid again. I think he's given up. So he just doesn't give a shit anymore."

"He gives a shit," Glenn said, lifting the gurney with Abraham and walking it towards a plot of land where they could dig a grave. "If he didn't, he wouldn't protect this place as hard as he does."

"Well, this place is all he's got left..." Abraham said. "If he stops to think, he would really drive himself crazy. So he doesn't. He keeps goin' so that he doesn't have to."

"You think he needs a break?" Glenn asked.

"I can't answer that for him. But people are starting to lose respect for him as a leader. They're startin' to fear him. This whole deal he's got goin' with the women, it's..." Abraham shook his head.

Glenn said. Yeah, that. He couldn't believe it when word started getting around that Rick Grimes was coercing women into his bed and threatening to kill or exile anyone who disagreed. It didn't seem like Rick. But then again...Abraham was right. Rick had been becoming darker, more brutal, deadlier, the longer that he went on without knowing what happened to his family. He wasn't sure what Rick was capable of anymore.

"I'm starting to hear talk of a rebellion..." Abraham said quietly. Secretively. Glenn looked up at him, surprised.

"What?!" Glenn asked, his eyes wide. They sat the gurney down on an empty plot of land.

"And the way things are goin'...I'm startin' to think maybe I should join 'em..."

Glenn stared, wide-eyed, at Abraham. One of the men who used to be one of Rick's most loyal people.

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3 Days Later

Rick stared at the five men in front of him who had requested an audience with him. And that had been the exact words they'd used. "We'd like to request an audience with the ruler here."

After many questions and warnings, Rick had allowed them through the gate – making all but one leave their weapons and horses outside. Speaking of weapons – they all had swords. Rick stared at the one he had allowed to stay at the waist of one of the men. He was a good-looking African American man, and he said his name was Matthew.

"So what are you here for?" Rick asked. They stood right inside the gate. Just in case they were trouble and Rick needed one of his snipers to take the men out. They could focus on them standing there. "We're having a sudden shortage in our supply of food so we're gonna have to think about taking anymore new people in at the moment."

"Oh no," Matthew said. "We don't wanna be taken in. We have our own...safe place."

Rick scrunched his brow, curious about this other place. But he didn't ask. He allowed the other man to continue.

"We came because we've been sharing from the same feeding bowl and we didn't even know it..."

Rick squinted at him.

"I'm guessing your food shortage has to do with Hilltop?" Matthew asked.

Rick stared at the man, his attention and interest gained. "You know about Hilltop?"

"We were getting food supplies from them as well."

Rick's brow scrunched. This was the first he was hearing of them. "What were you trading in return?" he asked.

"Weapons," Matthew answered, tapping his sword. "We have a blacksmith. And a man who casts bullets."

Rick's eyebrows rose. "How many people?" he asked. He was curious about it, just in case these men turned out to be a threat.

"Enough," Matthew answered. "What did you trade for the food?"

Rick hesitated in answering, weighing his options. Mapping out the smartest course of action. "...Medicine," he finally answered.

Matthew turned to the men in his party; he seemed to be impressed. "Medicine..." he said, turning back around. "...We could use that."

Rick tapped his finger against the Colt hanging at his side. He was used to people just trying to take what he had worked to get at this point. He shifted on his feet. "So why has the Hilltop suddenly cut off food supply?" Rick asked.

"They've run into trouble with a certain group that calls themselves the Saviors."

A jolt of recognition flashed across Rick's face.

"I see you've heard of them," Matthew continued. "Well, good...my men and I were sent here to offer you a proposition."

"Sent by who?" Rick asked.

"You'll know all of that in time. If you agree to work with us."

Rick squinted suspiciously. "How?"

"Since we both want our feeding bowl back...our ruler has offered you the request of joining in an alliance with us against the Saviors. If we can convince Hilltop to join us as well, we should be able to beat them no problem."

Rick continued to stare suspiciously at the other man. "...How do I know you're not working with the Saviors? That this isn't a trap? That you're not just trying to find out about us then betray us the first chance you get?" He cocked his head to the side, his hand still on his weapon.

"We won't," Matthew said calmly. "We're not those kind of people." Rick continued to stare at him, his words obviously not enough. Matthew smirked; the man was very on guard and suspicious. "But I understand how you can have your doubts," Matthew said. "The world has become a cruel place and we all have to be careful." His eyes swept the Alexandria Safe Zone. "But I can see you have a good place here. And it would be a waste if two self-sufficient communities couldn't come to work together due to suspicions and doubts. That's how civilizations are built, isn't it?"

"So to gain your cooperation, my ruler was prepared to sweeten the deal. He's quite a fan of ancient customs and he would really like your trust in this matter. So to garner peaceful relations, he is willing to offer up his most trusted female adviser to you...in marriage."

- What?! Marriage is part of the deal?! Michonne did NOT agree to this; she just said check the place out, go meet the guy, not to offer her up as a peace treaty. Plus, isn't she already involved with someone?! Sort of?! We get Michonne's reaction in the next chapter. And Rick's. Because...we all know he's kind of riding the crazy train now. But who knows...maybe Michonne can be his new plaything. At risk to his own life of course. :) -