FIVE TIMES RICK AND SHANE COVERED FOR EACH OTHER

Rick and Shane had been friends since high school but they'd met years before that. It was summer vacation and after the intense heat of midday, kids from all over the town would come out to play. They were both seven years old, living two streets away from each other but had never played together before.

It happened that that week they had both been accepted into a group of older boys, they were eight and nine years old and had graciously allowed two seven year olds into their gang; if only to protect the fort they had built on the dry scrubland next to the elementary school. The others would leave them there while they had adventures elsewhere, safe in the knowledge that the kids across town wouldn't steal their fort.

Shane was taking his responsibilities very seriously, or at least he had done for the first two hours. He had marched up and down in front of the corrugated iron fort, holding a stick like a rifle while Rick took shelter from the sun inside.

"This is dumb," Rick announced.

Shane didn't answer.

"What's your name again?" Rick continued.

"Shane," he replied, sitting down cross legged in the entrance to the fort, "You're Rick, right?"

"Yep," Rick nodded, "So, this is dumb, right? They're not coming back,"

Shane had to agree but he didn't want to admit it. He thought playing with the big kids would be more exciting.

"How old are you?" Shane asked, at least he could be the oldest out of the two of them.

"Seven,"

"Me too. What month's your birthday," Shane asked, trying to narrow it down.

"January. What about you?"

"June," Shane grudgingly admitted. So, he wasn't the boss here.

"Do you want to come to my house?" Rick offered, "My mom has popsicles,"

"What about the fort?" Shane didn't want to big kids to get mad at them.

"I won't tell if you don't," Rick shrugged, getting to his feet.

"Ok," Shane followed, he really wanted a Popsicle.

When Rick and Shane met again in high school, they didn't remember their seven year old encounter but hit it off as well as they did that day. Their lockers were next to each other, they had most of their classes together and most importantly they were on the football team together.

One day, after football practice, Rick strolled out of the changing rooms to find Shane leaning against the gym smoking and looking so cool.

"When did you start smoking?" Rick asked.

Shane shrugged, looking even cooler.

"Where did you get them from," Rick asked again trying to provoke a response from him.

"My dad," Shane said bitterly. Rick knew that things hadn't been good for Shane at home for a while but hadn't brought it up because Shane would most likely punch him. From what he'd learnt from local gossip, Shane's mom had left just over a month ago with the manager of the gas station, "Do you want to try one?" Shane offered the battered pack to him.

Rick shrugged and took one, in a sad attempt to try to look as cool as Shane. He took the offer of a light from Shane and inhaled before spluttering loudly.

"I know its gross, right?" Shane smiled, "I just took them to piss him off,"

They hung outside the gym, soaking up the early evening and pretending to smoke for a little while longer.

"Grimes, Walsh! What the hell do you think you're doing?" Couch Mitchell burst out of the changing room and immediately spotted their cigarettes.

"Ah, shit," Shane cursed, "They're mine," he told Couch Mitchell at almost exactly the same time as Rick.

If they had any hope of Couch Mitchell being impressed by their Spartacus style covering up for each other, they were sadly mistaken.

Shane sat down noisily next to Rick, whipping out his lunch spilling a hastily made sandwich, bag of chips and juice box onto the table.

"Where have you been all lunch?" Rick inquired, the rest of their friends were occupied with a boisterous conversation so didn't notice Shane's late arrival.

"Nowhere," Shane tried to answer casually.

"Why have you got chicken feathers in your hair?" Rick asked, picking at the back of Shane's head. Shane's eyes widened and he brushed them away, "What have you done?"

"Nothing," Shane replied with an extremely pleased look on his face that implied that he had indeed done something.

"Are you in trouble?"

"Not yet, maybe later," Shane said cryptically.

"Well, whatever it was, it can't have been you," Rick posited, "Because you were here all lunch,"

"Yeah, I was," Shane agreed.

Rich laughed. He would never have the courage to do the things Shane did, or the certain kind of genius it took to even think up his schemes, but what he could do was protect Shane with the aura of honesty he seemed to emit. Teachers believed everything he said, so if he told them that Shane couldn't possibly have taken the principal's car because he was with Rick all lunch that was the truth.

They had both been cops for about three years and Rick had been married for just over a year. Shane couldn't deny that he was a little jealous because Rick had a new house and someone to go home to at night. What did Shane have? A crummy apartment that had some suspicious mould growing in one corner and a mangy dog that he had gotten on a whim a few weeks ago that peed on the floor and he was fairly sure had fleas.

But Rick hadn't been as cheerful as he should have been; Shane supposed that the honeymoon period must have ended because Rick seemed to spend a lot of his time in sullen silence. They were sitting in their patrol car, parked on mainstream when Shane decided to bring it up.

"What the hell is up with you?" he asked bluntly.

Rick looked surprised at Shane's outburst, "What? Nothing,"

"Bullshit," Shane enunciated, "You've been stinking up the car with your misery for weeks, what's going on with you?"

Rick was hesitant for a few more moment before speaking, "Lori's pregnant,"

Shane laughed, "Hey, congratulations man," Rick didn't look too thrilled, "Normally, people take this as good news,"

"We get the same pay check, Shane," Rick sighed, "How am I supposed to provide for a baby?"

"Do you need a loan?" Shane offered.

"Can you afford a loan?" Rick asked.

"Not really," Shane admitted, "But if you need it, its there,"

"Thanks," Rick said sincerely, "I really mean it,"

"Listen, lets go for a beer tonight," Shane offered.

Rick shook his head sullenly, "Can't, I should really get home to Lori,"

"Nah, come on, I'll cover for you," Shane told him, "I'll tell her there was an emergency, tell her my dog died,"

"I wouldn't be surprised," Rick said, smiling for the first time all day, "That is one mangy dog,"

"He's got spirit, character," Shane defended.

"He's got fleas," Rick laughed, "And if I see you scratching, I'm gonna have to fumigate you,"

"Come on, let's get drunk tonight," Shane coaxed, "I'll cover for you with Lori,"

"Ok, sounds like a good idea," Rick finally conceded.

Twelve years later, Shane covered for Rick once again. He took his place; taught Carl how to tie knots and catch frogs, loved Lori like she was his own wife and would have given his own life to protect them.

He covered for Rick as a father and wife and for the first time in his life felt a purpose that he'd never felt before. He really mattered to Lori and Carl, they relied on him and he needed them, loved them. Even if they didn't feel the same way he did. Lori still wore her wedding ring and kept Rick's on a chain around her neck. Carl cried every night for his lost father.

But for a brief time he was the most important thing in the world to them. He'd always been jealous of Rick. He'd had the freezer full of popsicles that he'd been willing to share, the mother who'd stuck around, the trust and respect of everyone around him and the perfect little family.

His heart leapt with relief when his best friend returned from the dead but he couldn't help hating him because now he was left with nothing, again.