NOWHERE KIDS | ONE SHOTS

Small Talks and Suprises (Rick Grimes)

Ship: Rick Grimes/Reader
Fandom: The Walking Dead
Word Count: 2,479

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You have been a member of his group for a few weeks. And it has been great. Life during the apocalypse was not even close to being easy, but stumbling across Rick Grimes and his group at the prison had made it a lot easier, and better.

You were skeptical of Rick and his group at first. You didn't know if you could trust them. When you first came across the prison, they didn't welcome you with "open arms" like you had wanted them to. Instead, they had pounded you with questions like "Where did you come from?" and "How did you find this place?", "Did you bring anyone else with you?"

When you answered that you found this place when you were just  running around ALONE, they let you inside. But that didn't mean that they were welcoming. Heck no. Most of the group didn't even talk to you.

The group leader, Rick Grimes, had given you your own cell. Apparently these people had control of a whole cell block.

At first, you thought that it was nice of Rick to give you your own cell. Then you realized why he had done so. So the group didn't have associate with you. You didn't really care at first. So what if they didn't want to talk to you. You didn't want to talk to them either. You didn't really have to. At least they let you in the group. You couldn't really ask for much more during times like this.

Soon, the group realized that you weren't the huge threat that they had thought you to be in the beginning. You got food, you didn't use more supplies than you needed, and you helped out with the kids, which were Rick's, Carl and Judith.

Rick was the first one to actually talk to you. Not the usual "Hey" or "Thanks" that the rest of the group gave you. No, actual talking.

"Hello." He said quietly.

"Hi." You answered, surprised that he was even speaking to you.

"Well..." He started.

"What?" You asked. Had he come to shame you? Tell you that you needed to leave the prison because you were taking up too much space?

"I just wanted to say... Thanks." He said awkwardly.

"Sure." You said. Maybe this was going to be like talking to everyone else.

"For everything. Mostly, you know, helping out with my kids." He said. He sat on you bed beside you. What was he doing?

"Sure. I love your kids." You wanted to ask about the mother of the kids, but you were sure that you knew the answer. It was happening to families everywhere, including you, and probably everyone else in this prison.

"I lost my wife a little while ago." He said, his voice quivering. You knew exactly what was going on with him. But why was he opening up to you? You were the new member of the group, the one that nobody had wanted to talk to for the longest time. Maybe that had happened to all members of the group that had joined. Maybe the group just ignored them awhile, just to make sure that they were trustworthy. It made sense.

"I'm sorry." You said. You didn't know what else to add. You didn't want to say something wrong, that was for sure.

"It's fine. It's fine." He wiped at his eyes with his hand. Then he began to talk again. "After she died, I just felt lost. I still do, actually. And I've been feeling like bad father. Like, I've barely been taking care of Carl or Judith. God, they are the last pieces that I have of her. Why don't I cherish them? Why don't I care for them? All it takes is minute. They could be gone in a minute. A MINUTE!" He said.