Rick stared at the jacket, shirt, and tie, and wondered what in the hell it all meant. The three articles of clothing stood out against the white of his sheets, and Rick found himself reminiscing about life before the Turn: him and Shane, deciding to join the police academy together, passing their tests, becoming beat cops, and slowly but surely climbing their way up the latter.
This uniform used to mean something to him.
He wasn't sure it still did. So much had changed…. At one point he vaguely remembered saying that they didn't kill the living, and now…. Now he'd lost track of how many people he'd killed just to be here in, this moment.
Things were different now.
"You gon' find yourself a place where it's like how it used to be." Bob's voice started to ring in Rick's ear. It wasn't the first time, and he knew it wouldn't be the last. "And if you let too much go along the way, that's not gonna work. 'Cause you gon' be back in the real world."
"This is the real world, Bob," Rick had tried to argue.
"Nah, this… is a nightmare. And nightmares end."
He still wasn't sold on Bob's way of thinking, but it was his way of thinking that had the rest of his people settling inside these walls. It was that same thinking that had him at odds with his best friend.
Yet the uniform was familiar, but Rick wasn't sure it was in all the right ways. This uniform reminded him of another time, another place, another life.
He thought about his hat, the hat the Carl still held so tightly to, even after all this time. That hat still meant something to Carl, so Rick knew what it is he had to do. He had to put this uniform on, for his son's sake, because Alexandria needed to work. Alexandria had to work.
Rick unwrapped the towel from around his waist and started getting dressed. It would take some getting used to, but he'd put on this uniform and parade around this town because that's what Deanna wanted. If they wanted a show, he'd give them a show.
He'd just finished tying his tie when Daryl knocked on his door.
"You ready?" asked Daryl.
Rick nodded. "Yah, almost."
"Good. Carol's downstairs waitin'." Rick nodded again and Daryl walked off.
He grabbed the black jacket, the jacket that was so familiar yet still completely foreign, and put it on.
He didn't glance into the mirror. He didn't see the point. He hardly recognized himself anymore.
He thought it made sense, figuring he barely recognized the world anymore.
He made his way downstairs where he would sneak out of Alexandria and into the woods.
Most of him felt unashamed about what it is he, Carol, and Daryl were about to do.
But some part of him, a small piece of him that remembered his previous life, the minute part of him that thought this uniform might still mean something to him, felt guilty as he made his way back into Alexandria, a plan between the three of them. And even though he knew it was a good plan, even though he knew it was the right thing to do, he couldn't help but feel as if he were turning into a dirty cop.