Rick Grimes Meth addiction

rick grimes meth struggle

Rick Grimes was strong in many ways. He could kill with the strength of 20 men and could get his group through anything. He could last hours with Daryl. But when it came to meth, he was lacking. He'd followed everything Daryl had told him, he trusted Daryl to take the group on his bad days - to be as strong as him on his good days. Today was a bad day.

He'd been off the meth for a few months now killing walkers and having sex at every moment he could find with his new love. He still thought about his wife a lot but he had gotten over her as much as he could now, he still sees her now and again but it's nothing worth worrying about, not in an apocalypse. Daryl however was worth all his time, but the idea of that sweet blue crystal plagued his mind like the disease which caused all this in the first place, and today was his addictions lucky day.

Their group were raiding an old town, small place with not a lot too it only a few houses and a gas station, however it was everything in this moment.

Daryl and Rick had trekked towards the gas station with Carl trailing behind keeping an eye out for naughties. Daryl had been raiding the shelves for any last unwanted canned goods left behind by picky eaters and searching for baby food. Rick, on the other hand, had found the bathroom. He walked into the green hue, a light still running from a generator somehow, brown stains on the wall and floor and a layer of dust coating everything. He checked the tap, with no luck. He hadn't even thought about meth the past few days, survival of his children almost beating the addiction out of him, but of course like all addictions it persevered. He had a sudden thought. Dingy toilet, gas station, middle of nowhere. Drugs. He closed the door, leaving it open a crack to give the illusion of trust and went to the toilet. He lifted up the tank lid and sure enough there were a few little baggies wedged inside. He inspected them carefully one by one, they needed to be meth they needed to be. He opened the bags almost frantically, finding only what looked like cocaine, however in the next bag there it was. A tiny amount, but the biggest to him, a little bag of crystal meth. This time it wouldn't be enough to sniff, no he needed more than that. He needed it to fill him up this time, more than Daryl can. He almost pulls the bathroom apart looking for a pipe to burn it in, that is until he sees it glimmering under a beam of light under the counter, where the shop keeper must have thought it would be hidden forever during their living moments. He rushed out and grabbed it just before Daryl turned back towards him. They made it into his pocket just in time.

"Rick. What yer doin in there? Nothin' in here really." Daryl said.

"Was tryna test the water supply. Group's runnin out pretty fast."

Daryl nodded, trusting easily. Maybe too easily. They both walked out to join the group at the meeting place while Rick untucked his shirt over his pocket as though concealing a weapon.

"Anyone find anything of use?" Maggie said, panting as she met the rest.

"What happened to you?" Abraham asked.

"We got jumped by a group, nothing we couldn't take on." Glenn said, smiling proudly at his wife, who returned the look though slightly tainted with exhaustion.

"I'm glad your all alright" Carl said, in a strangely good mood. After his dad had come off the crystal he'd been like this. After their biggest fall out ever things were heading up. He suddenly turned to his father.

"Dad, they're saying there's somewhere we could go, to stay."

"Oh! Yeah, we found a place." Abraham said. "Well, we've been shown 'signs' of a place but, it's somethin."

"Can we trust it?" Rick asked.

"Dunno. But it's better than hunting and scavenging for the rest of our lives."

He turns to Daryl, who responds with a shrug.

"I guess we'll find somewhere to stay for the night and then we'll check it out." Rick told the group, who obediently listened and packed up to start leaving.

They'd ended up finding a barn, didn't seem to be anyone around so it was perfect for a temporary base. There was a slight ambush but they'd skillfully worked their way around. The night had been rough though. After they'd controlled the herd Rick had sat, his child cradled in his sons arm opposite him, and although he should have been thinking of that, that moment, he couldn't help but keep thinking about what was stored in his pocket, just waiting to be used. But it was too obvious right now, a group of human obsticles between him and his sweet divine. His eyes went to another set, which were watching him intensely. His lovers eyes. Their faces shared a conversation: was Rick ok, a nod yes, an unsure look of relief.

As the night went on though Rick felt himself sweating and shaking, a strange anger overcoming him, a need, a want. His hand kept feeling over his pocket, just to make sure it was still there. He needed it inside him so badly just so it could be safe, so he could fix himself. He felt like like untamed animal, staring at the ground, his hands bunched in fists so hard his bones were moving, his face desperately trying to hide his desperation and frustration. He could have sworn he'd seen his wife in the corner at one point.

At some point, the door had opened, and Rick lost it. He’d started questioning the man, didn't even know what he had or what he wanted, didn't even hardly listen to what he had to say. He just saw red. Someone to replace the feelings of despair with and to release the anger on. He got closer and closer, everyone staying quiet yet looking on in wonder and fear as their leader kept on and on at the stranger. Some concerned words were given, to "Calm down.". No. Rick couldn't calm down. Nothing was right, none of this was right. Nothing would ever be right until the sweet meth entered his system once again. With all the might of a deranged lion, he lunged, and punched the man. Out cold in one.

Rick didn't feel remorse.