Title: Ghosts Go Gently At Dawn
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/Characters: Shane Walsh/Rick Grimes
Spoilers: None
Warnings: spoilers, language
Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Summary - prompt from livejournal's twd_kinkmeme: Rick starts seeing Shane's ghost. He's the only one who can. He's really confused at first and so is Shane who doesn't want to come to terms with the fact he's dead. Part of Rick likes keeping Shane around and having him to talk to and the more time Shane spends around him, the more he's coming to terms with the fact he's in love with him and can't get over the time they've lost. Another part of Rick wants him to help Shane move on. Shane is more adamant about not leaving when they come to terms with their feelings.

The first time Rick sees Shane, he's keeping watch from the bed of the truck as the others sleep. The air is cold and his fingers are numb. The fire is dying from the center of where everyone is huddled. Rick can feel the itch of caking blood on his skin. They've been moving on for days now, following the roads, and putting distance between them and the herd. They need to find shelter soon, before the snow comes.

Rick's never believed in ghosts, per say; spirits maybe. He'll admit that he believes there are things out there that can't be explained, but he doesn't think it'll necessarily happen to him. He's thought if it ever did, it'd be that shimmering dream you have with a loved one after they'd passed away. He doesn't expect to see Shane leaning against the truck, looking as solid as if he were alive.

Rick doesn't remember how he got there, doesn't remember when he appeared, only that he's there. Rick stares at him, breath and words caught in his throat. Shane stares back, expression mirroring his own; shock, disbelief – fear. Rick wants to reach out and touch him and when he sees his own breath plume in front of his face, Rick's aware that there's no exhalation of wispy smoke from Shane's mouth. Rick extends a hand and he realizes it's shaking.

"Shane?" Rick chokes out and he watches as Shane's eyes widen. Rick's fingers are inches away from touching Shane's shoulder and he feels a charged electricity suddenly move through him, standing his hair on end. He blinks, hearing himself gasp, and Shane disappears.

Rick brushes off seeing Shane as not having enough sleep. He doesn't see him again for a while. In fact, it's so long before he sees Shane again that he's comfortable with the idea that it was just a tired hallucination. Winter's settling in and the first snowfall leaves them all trapped in their cars, pushing forward through a white wash before they come across a deserted, mountain-side motel.

Despite being inside and away from the harsh wind, they can all see their breath. Rick and a few others scour the hotel and make sure there aren't any walkers stalking the hallways. They find none and buckle down for the night – the next few nights, actually. Herschel finds the fuse boxes and with Glenn's help, they actually manage to get the power on. The heating doesn't work, but it's a comfort to light up the dark hallways and barren rooms.

The night is brutally cold and they all put extra sheets on the beds. Lori won't sleep next to him and instead sleeps with Carl in the bed across from his own. The whipping wind outside keeps Rick awake and he tosses and turns, eyes on the ceiling. He's restless and doesn't know why.

"Damn, just go to sleep already, you're making me tired."

Rick jolts and sits upright, hand reaching for his gun. He can't find it and he realizes that if someone were going to jump him, they would have done it already. Instead, he turns on the bedside lamp. The room is bathed in a soft, sickly orange light. Rick rubs his eyes, blinking against the sudden glow.

His eyes come into focus and Shane is sitting on the bed – Shane, looking as solid and alive as he last saw him. Sort of. The bruises are gone from his face and there's no blood caked to his skin. His hair is long again, long in the way Rick remembers from the days back on the force. Rick blinks again, harder this time because this can't possibly be real. Shane can't be sitting in front of him because Shane is dead.

"Shane?" Rick remembers how the last time he'd said Shane's name, Shane had disappeared. But this time, Shane stays solid. Rick closes his eyes, squeezes them until he's seeing bright pops of color and when he opens his eyes, Shane is still there.

"You done?" Shane asks, leaning back on his hands. Rick notes that the sheets don't crumple under the weight, like there's no one sitting at the edge of his bed. Rick's mouth goes slack, hanging open and Shane raises a brow. For a long time, he can't find words, all of them locked in his throat.

"But how…?" Rick's words trail off and his mouth is dry. Shane stares at him, confused.

"How what?" Shane glares at him, brow furrowing. He looks around the room, like the answer to Rick's question might hang in the air. Rick swallows and his throat aches for a drink. Shane's eyes meet his again, narrowed and curious and Rick can't believe what he's seeing, he just can't. The knife he used is still holstered in his belt.

"Shane, you… how are you here?" Rick asks and for the first time since Shane appeared at the foot of his bed, Rick sees surprise. The bemusement and irritation slides off his face and melts into shock and bewilderment. Shane looks around the room, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Dunno," He shrugs, "Figured something must have happened back at the farm and I must've been out for a bit," Rick wants to be sick as he listens to Shane speak, "Figured you took me with you," Rick has to blink again when Shane's form seems to shimmer, fade and solidify all at once before his eyes.

"Shane, what's the last thing you remember?" Rick asks because from what he understands, Shane doesn't know he's dead, that Rick killed him and that makes Rick sicker. Shane looks around the room, lips compressed into a hard line and Rick can see him thinking hard about the question, looking almost desperate to recall his thoughts and memories. In a sudden shimmering flash, Shane's gone. Rick stares at the empty space where he had been sitting. He waits. He waits a very long time, but Shane never comes back. So he lays back down, eyes back on the ceiling and waits for a sleep that will never come, his heart pounding in his chest.

Rick wakes the next morning with an ache in his neck and a tiredness that overwhelms him. He isn't sure how long he's slept; Lori and Carl aren't in the bed beside him any longer. He wakes, shaking his head and remembers the night before - Shane. Rick sits in the bed for a long time and wonders if he had been dreaming, if he had been delusional from his fatigue.

Rick goes the whole day without seeing Shane and by the afternoon, he's feeling okay again. In the motel's breakfast room they found food supplies and at one of the long tables, they all eat together. Rick eats eagerly. It's more food than he's had in weeks and his stomach takes to it ravenously.

"You gonna leave any for me?" Shane is suddenly sitting across from him and Rick sucks in a sharp breath and begins coughing, choking. The others look over at him and T-Dog claps him on the back and hands him a glass of water. Rick apologizes and they go back to their business, but Shane is still sitting there, hands folded on the table, looking at everyone and then back at Rick. Rick stands suddenly and excuses himself. He gives a jerk of his head towards Shane, and Shane stands.

Out in the hallway, he stops and turns. Shane's no longer behind him.

"Over here," Rick turns around again and Shane's leaning against the wall, arms crossed, "Hurry up, I want to grab a plate before Glenn and your kid consumes it all, plus the table. Lori might too." Shane is smirking at him, but it's playful. Rick moves closer to Shane and the closer he gets, the more intense the crackling, electric aura around Shane seems to get.

"You're dead." Rick says. He comes right out with it because he needs to not only solidify this with himself, but just in case this is real and he's not losing his grip on reality, he needs Shane to understand it too. Shane scoffs, rolling his eyes and looks at him through his lashes with a grin.

"You expect me to really believe that? What kind of bullshit prank is that?" Shane chuckles, "Is that why everyone's been ignoring me? Man, you all are a bunch of assholes." Rick wants to touch Shane, wants to shake him by the shoulders, but he's afraid of what might happen when he does. So when Shane goes to walk past him, Rick moves in his way. Shane falters and stops.

"Do you remember what I asked you last night?" Rick asks and Shane's looking at him with frustration now.

"I remember you rolling around and not going the fuck to sleep." Shane snaps. He attempts to move around Rick again and once more, Rick moves in his way.

"What do you remember last?" Rick asks and Shane lets out a grunt of irritation. Rick feels like they're doing some sort of dance as Shane attempts to move around him again and again, and each time, Rick makes sure that he's blocking his path. He remembers movies as a kid about how ghosts could walk through you, that your hands would slide right through their very being as if they were air. But Shane won't move through him because Shane doesn't think he's dead.

"Shane," Rick says, voice grounding out harshly and Shane stops then, staring at him, "What do you remember last?" Shane looks away and towards the wall, eyes narrowed. He's thinking again. After a several long minutes, Shane suddenly reaches up and touches just below his heart.

"Pain," Shane says, sucking in a sharp breath and presses down harder, "Right here. I remember pain. Lots of it," Shane's eyes don't leave the wall, fixated on it as he seems to struggle with recalling the details, "S'why I thought something happened," He looks back over at Rick then, "Did something happen?" A lot has happened, Rick thinks, a lot more than he's willing to admit.

It's then that Rick reaches out to touch Shane. Shane looks so solid and vivid that for a moment, Rick's sure he's going to touch flesh. Instead, his hand sinks through Shane's chest like it is air. Only when his hand is engulfed and disappears, it becomes cold. Rick feels like he's plunged his fist into a bucket of ice water, so cold it hurts. He feels the electric energy more strongly and he quivers. Shane looks down with wide eyes as Rick snaps his hand back, holding it close to himself.

"What the-" Shane's eyes widen, full of intense fear and confusion and ianger/i. The lights in the hallway suddenly flicker and Rick feels the blood pound in his ears, "What the fuck was that? What is – what is that Rick? What did you do? What happened?" Shane's voice crescendos with each question. The lights begin to flicker more rapidly and suddenly, one by one, they explode in a shower of glass and powdered filaments. Rick ducks down as the one above him blows out and he feels the tinkle of debris across his back.

When he looks up, Shane's gone again. The doors from the breakfast room open and the group hurries into the hall, guns drawn. They all look at the empty hallway and shattered glass before looking at Rick who can't find words.

"Must've been an overloaded fuse," Herschel says. Rick knows different.

Rick doesn't see Shane for several days. Sometimes, when he's by himself, he'll see the lights flicker. Things will fall to the floor when they shouldn't. He'll leave things in one place and then find them elsewhere. Then, one day, he's making cold coffee in the breakfast room when the mug he's pouring into suddenly fractures and splits open. The coffee pot suddenly ruptures and cracks. The mugs on the rack above him begin to fall one by one.

"Enough!" Rick shouts and the last mug on the rack freezes and remains in place. He looks around wildly, but Shane's not there.

"Rick?" Glenn suddenly appears in the doorway and surveys the mess with wide eyes, "Is everything okay?" Rick licks his lips and crouches, beginning to clean up the mess. He wants to say no, that this is Shane's fault and that it wasn't him having some sudden psychotic break because he can read that that's what Glenn thinks it is in his eyes.

"Yeah," Rick says instead, "I'm fine."

"Who were you talking to?" Glenn asks. This time, Rick doesn't answer.

Rick's steps from a cold shower to Shane sitting on the edge of the sink, feet scraping the floor. Rick doesn't bother to cover himself up. Shane's seen him naked plenty of times, and he's surprised at how nonchalant he is when the thought crosses his mind.

"I want to know what happened," Shane says bluntly. The lights in the bathroom flicker as Rick takes a towel from the rack and wraps it around himself before taking another and dries his skin. Shane's touching his ribs again, just below his heart, brows knitted together and serious, "I need to know what happened." Rick feels the cold from the shower all the way down to his bones and nods. He sits down on the toilet lid and puts his face in his hands. It's going to be a long talk.

Rick's not sure how long he's been talking or where he really started from, only that his skin is dry when he's done. He's sitting against the wall, Shane beside him. Shane's so close to him that Rick expects to feel the heat of his skin. He doesn't. He feels that same crackling charge and cold air. Shane is staring at the wall almost listlessly; he looks tired. Rick finishes talking and his tongue feels heavy. The two of them take in the words. They let them digest for what feels like a time much longer than Rick took to talk.

"Shane-"

"I don't remember any of that," Shane says quietly. He's shimmering again, flickering and Rick has a theory that Shane can only stay visible for so long before it puts too much strain on him and he fizzles out, "If it was as bad as you say it was…" Shane's voice trails off and when Rick looks over, he can see through Shane, "I guess I deserved it."

"No, Shane-"

"Rick, I get it," Shane looks over at him then and laughs almost bitterly, "I ain't gonna defend what I did and I ain't gonna defend your actions either," Shane says and his image is steadily fading, this time more quickly, "But I don't know, maybe I support them. Maybe it's better like this."

"Shane, god no," Rick says and he has the most intense, burning urge to lean over and kiss Shane until that lost, almost forlorn look is gone from his face. It fills him and flushes through him and he doesn't understand where the need is coming from, just that he wants it satisfied, "Shane, I didn't want to, god I didn't. I shouldn't have, I shouldn't have Shane, I wish I hadn't-"

"Rick?" Shane looks over at him and Rick pauses mid-sentence, his throat tight. Shane cocks his head and there's something in his eyes that Rick recognizes as forgiveness. Rick had forgiven Shane long ago for what he'd done and what he'd said. He'd forgiven him the moment the knife had pierced his chest, but he hadn't been able to forgive himself. He couldn't forgive himself for what he'd done, hated himself for it and—

"Yeah?"

"Don't be sorry." And Shane's gone.

Rick starts seeing Shane frequently after that. When he wakes in the morning, Shane is usually already there. Sometimes, he's pacing the room and other times, he's lying beside Rick and waiting for him to wake. Rick oddly enjoys the company and will sometimes lie in bed for an hour or so after waking just to talk. They talk about being kids and growing up, talk about being on the force, talk about how things changed – they talk about healing.

Shane's a good company that evens out Rick's toiling emotions. He suddenly has a vent for when Lori gives him another one of her bitter looks or someone in their group is careless with a passing by walker, too loud and messy and Rick's frustrated. Shane is there when the nights are so cold, Rick's shaking too hard to sleep and he needs the companionship. Shane's there when Rick gives pause in his thoughts and questions his actions and needs someone to tell him he's doing the right thing, that it's all making sense. Shane's there, even if technically, he isn't.

Shane's amusing to watch and Rick finds himself watching Shane a lot, much more than before. Rick wonders if he had watched Shane before just as closely as he did now, he might have seen how blatantly Shane had been suffering in front of him, that he wasn't a problem and that Shane would be solid flesh he could touch – and kiss and mold himself inside of. Rick watches Shane with eyes that are open too late, with eyes that see Shane as a loss that's more than just his best friend. The urge for a kiss, for warm flesh he can touch and taste, the bond he wishes he'd pieced back together is stronger than ever.

Sometimes, when Shane gets excited or angry or startled, things have a tendency of flying across the room or shattering in place. Other things rattle where they stand or doors swing shut loudly. Whatever happens to Shane when his emotions are unbridled must take so much energy from him because Shane will disappear for hours afterward. One day, Glenn accidentally sets off a gun in the hallway. Rick hits the wall, keeping his head down because he's learned the hard way how difficult it is to remove tiny slivers of glass and he's right to do so because the chandelier in the lobby suddenly explodes and rains down shattered, dirty crystal.

Sometimes, Rick finds himself talking too loudly and he doesn't miss the way the others look at him. He wonders why Shane appears only to him, why no one else can see him. Shane just shrugs and isn't so sure himself. Rick doesn't argue and ignores the looks he's given when someone sees him talking to the air, laughing and smiling. Shane's got this look in his eyes that mirrors Rick's own – desire, need, lust, affection, accompanied with the realization that all of them lost.

"I miss you," Rick says one day as they lie in bed. He doesn't feel the bed shift when Shane moves, but he sees Shane sit up. Rick sits up with him and Shane looks over him. Their days have mostly been rather upbeat and it's reminded Rick a lot of the times of their patrols, the witty banter and friendly jokes. But Rick looks at Shane everyday now and sees an opportunity he's lost – a love he'll never have. What he can't stand more is realizing he can see it in Shane's eyes too.

"Never know what you have until it's gone, right?" Shane says with his eyes down. He's fading suddenly and Rick wants to grab onto him, tell him not to leave. But his hand sinks into cold air and grasps nothing. Shane looks over at him, eyes lost and sad. Rick wants to kiss him then, wants to take Shane to his body and push him into the mattress. He wants to fuck him, he wants to feel his heat around his cock, wants to feel Shane's nails dig up blood, wants to hear Shane gasp his name – he wants Shane, wants himself, to feel real again. He wants the chance he never got.

"Shane, I'm sorry," Rick says and Shane's a mere transparent illumination. Shane reaches out, his hand sliding over his Rick's face, through it and draws back. Shane nods and fades away, his following whisper echoing in the empty room.

"Me too."

"Dad?" Carl comes up to him one day, hands shoved in his pockets. It's first time that Rick notices that his breath doesn't hang in the air and he realizes they've been holed up in this hotel for months now. Rick looks up and Carl shifts unsteadily on his feet, rocking on his heels, "Why does everyone think you're crazy? Does that mean I am too?"

Rick glances past Carl's shoulder. He can see Lori staring at them intently from across the lobby. He can see every else's eyes avoiding him, looking only when he's not.

"I'm not crazy," Rick grunts, "You aren't either. Don't let that talk get to you."

"I know," Carl says, looking past Rick, "I just wonder if the rest of them are because they can't see him." Rick pauses and follows Carl's gaze to where Shane is standing at the window. Shane's a solid form at the window, like he's alive, breathing with blood in his veins. But his body casts no shadow on the ground. Rick looks back at Carl who looks up at him and Rick crouches down, hands on Carl's shoulders.

"What do you mean, 'see him'?" Rick asks.

"See Shane, dad," Carl says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, "I see him all the time before I go to bed. He's always following you around," Carl looks back at Shane again who is looking back at them. When Carl waves at him, Shane's eyes go wide and he dissipates into thin air. The shutters on the window slam shut, making everyone jump. Rick is speechless for a long time, though he supposed he can't be shocked; kids are always far more sensitive to the world around them. It would make sense that Carl would have an extrasensory extension that isn't closed off by adulthood, that his eyes would find Shane.

"Sophia sees him sometimes too. Not as much as me though," Carl says, looking at where Shane had once been before he looks back at Rick, "I miss him, dad." Rick swallows, throat thick and takes Carl into his arms and squeezes him tight.

"Your boy tells me you're seeing ghosts."

Rick looks up from the fire they've lit in the fireplace in the lobby as Herschel sits down beside him. Rick doesn't answer and turn his eyes back to the flame. Shane is sitting in the chair next to him. They had been talking about Carl before Herschel intruded.

"For the longest time after my wife died, I knew she was still around," Herschel said, sitting down opposite Rick. Rick's attention shifts and beside him, he feels Shane crackle with energy at the words, "Used to bug the hell outta me, you know? She'd move things around, they'd go missing. Things I had left a mess the night before would be organized come the morning. Sometimes, I was sure I could feel her sit down or lie down on the bed at night," Herschel takes in a deep breath and exhales slowly, "I could never see her, just feel her."

Rick says nothing, just stares. Herschel is quiet for a while before speaking again.

"The girls that I was goin' crazy, said I needed to see a therapist and I wondered why they couldn't feel her like I could," Herschel folds his hands over his stomach, "Took me a while to figure out." Rick sits up a little straighter, grunting as joints crack and he stretches out his legs that are warm from the fire.

"Figure out what?"

"When spirits can be seen or felt by someone, it's because they're attached to that person. They have the strongest connection with them, and not even death breaks that," Herschel says thoughtfully, "People who have moved on with their grief, like my girls, though they were still strong attached, I needed my wife and I think she knew that," Herschel looks over at Rick with wise, old eyes that make him feel vulnerable and bare, "Is it Shane?"

Rick nods. Herschel smiles and nods, but he must see the pain in his eyes because it slowly fades.

"You loved him. Love him still. Never got to tell him that, he didn't get to tell you. Things were left unsaid," Herschel says and Rick hates the fact that his eyes sting and water as he blinks back the wetness. Beside him, Shane has disappeared again and Herschel looks up at the ceiling where the chandelier had once been, "You need him. He knows that so he appears to you," Rick nods again and this time when Herschel looks at him, it's concerned, "You need to let him go."

"What?" Rick suddenly speaks, his voice throaty and gruff as he speaks around a wet throat.

"I needed my wife and she let me know she was there and gave me the chance to say what I needed to," Herschel said quietly, "They're here not because they choose to be, but because our grief holds them here," Herschel's eyes search him deep and Rick has to look away, "Tell him what you need to, if you haven't already. Then let him go."

"I can't." Rick says, inhaling sharply around a sob that's choked in his throat.

"You can. It's not easy, but you can. Don't anchor him here," Herschel says, a hand gentle on Rick's shoulder, "He may not want to go himself, he has to let go himself, but it's you that's got to let go first." Herschel stands, squeezing Rick's shoulder and leaves Rick alone to his thoughts.

Rick loves Shane so much he can't bear the thought of him leaving him for a second time, but he can't stand knowing he's keeping Shane from moving on. He tries for days to find Shane, but Shane never reappears. He knows Shane heard what Herschel said and knows that Shane doesn't want to go either and wants to stay with Rick, despite the pain it brings the both of them. Rick writes down a letter to Shane, his handwriting not at its best because his hand is shaking, but in it, he writes down everything he wants to say and has needed to say for a long time and never got the chance to. Rick puts the letter beneath his pillow. The following morning, it's gone.

When Rick stops looking for Shane, that's when he finds him.

Shane's outside on the balcony of the hotel room. Outside, spring is settling in. The trees are turning green and the grass is growing. The cool fingers of winter still touch the air, but the standing out in the sun is warm. Rick's letter is fluttering gently on the balcony rail.

"You really want me to go?" Shane looks at him when Rick steps out onto the balcony.

"God no, I don't want you to go," Rick says and Shane looks confused, "But you can't stay here, Shane. I know you know that." Shane looks away. He knows now that Shane has known he can move on for a while, but has chosen not to for Rick's sake, anchored down by Rick's grief. Shane looks down at the letter and Rick picks it up, reading his words.

"You meant all that?" Shane gestures to the letter and Rick grins, folding the paper and puts it into the breast pocket of his shirt.

"Every word. I love you Shane, don't forget that okay?" Rick says. A warm smile stretches across Shane's face.

"Love you too, brother." Shane says and he leans in. Rick closes his eyes and against his lips, he feels a cold chill and a surge of electricity that races through his entire body, thrumming and vibrating. And in an instant, it's gone. When Rick opens his eyes, Shane's gone and he knows this time that Shane's going to stay gone. Somewhere deep inside his chest, Rick feels something loosen and give way and he feels himself begin to move on, the letter close to his heart.

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