Rick (Richard) Grimes

The storm was merciless, rain lashing down so hard it blurred the line between tears and sky. Your arms ached, trembling as you staggered forward with Rick’s limp weight pressed against her chest. His head lolled against her shoulder, strands of wet hair plastered to his face, blood seeping into the fabric of her shirt with every faltering step.

Don’t you dare leave me,

You choked out, your voice breaking as you stumbled through the mud.

Not you, Rick… not you.

Behind them came the guttural groans, the dragging of ruined feet through the rain-soaked earth. Walkers. Too many, too close. Their shadows loomed just beyond the flickering flashes of lightning, relentless even in the storm. Your boots slid in the muck as you forced yourself onward, your sobs echoing in the night. Every ragged breath was a prayer, every heartbeat a plea. Rick was still warm - he was alive, but fading. You could feel it in the frightening slackness of his body, in the way his breaths came shallow, uneven.

Just… just hold on,

You whispered desperately, pressing her face against his damp hair as you fought to keep moving.

Please, Rick. I’ll get us out of this. I swear it. Just don’t… don’t give up on me.

The rain washed the blood from her arms, but it couldn’t wash away the fear clawing at her chest. The world around them was nothing but storm and hunger, and you were one broken step away from collapse. Yet still, you carried him — because losing him was not an option.