wildest dreams ━ rick grimes × male!oc

chapter two:

ƇӇƛƤƬЄƦ ƬƜƠ: "When he says those words that hurt you, do you read the ones I wrote you?"

The sun beats down on Rick uncomfortably now. It's getting warmer and warmer as the day goes on. He has no idea what time it is when he eventually makes it to his house. He throws the bike down onto the ground and stumbles up the path to his front door, literally throwing himself inside the house.

Rick glances around. The walls are empty of photo frames and some of the drawers are empty, clothes packed and gone. What little food there was in the fridge and pantry is no longer there either. The only things left behind are Rick's belongings, like his clothes in the spare bedroom and his deputy certificate on the mantelpiece.

Scenting the air, Rick catches the trail of Lori's human scent mixed in with Shane's cologne and the saltiness of what must have been Carl crying. His little, omega pup had been crying and yet all Lori could do was tangle her scent with Shane's.

Rick seethes. That bitch.

If there was one thing that Rick couldn't stand at all, it was betrayal. And this was it, betrayal at its finest. Rick was going to find that useless, human wife of his and wrap his fingers around her dainty neck-

Rick takes a deep breath to calm himself down.

No. That wasn't right, was it? Strangling her would be too personal. He'd do something else, like shoot her between the eyes or use a certain omega's knife to gut her. Yes, those were much better options.

Nodding to himself, Rick packs a few more clothes into his bag; two pairs of jeans, a white tee along with a denim button up and some underwear. When he opens his bedside table, he's surprised to find his beloved colt python.

Well, it seemed like Lori wasn't so useless after all.

Checking the frame and opening the cylinder, Rick finds the gun empty, no bullets inside it. He blinks, slowly, methodically. He should have known better. Lori is useless.

Absolutely-fucking-useless. Jesus.

Rick sighs and presses the cool steel against his forehead, grounding himself. It doesn't matter, he'll just make his way to the station. Hopefully grab some more ammo, if Shane hasn't already been there. He places the gun inside his bag and searches his room for anything else he can take or use. Rick finds some leftover dark chocolate, not even the fancy kind, still fully wrapped and eats it like he's starving. He then drinks some water out of the tap and fills the almost empty bottle he has in his bag.

Stepping back outside into the sunlight, Rick makes his way down the beaten path of his front garden and takes a seat on the front steps, suddenly feeling tired. His muscles feel like lead again and the burning in his shoulder is back. He drops the bag in front of him, pulls out the tylenol-

Then everything turns black.

He wakes much later, groggy, with a headache and a dry throat. Rick blinks at the ceiling, feeling a sense of deja vu. Didn't I just do this at the hospital? He asks himself internally. He tries to move his hands and finds them tied to the bedpost. His flannel is missing and there's a thin sheet of sweat across his chest and shoulders. He feels uncomfortable.

Looking around, he finds a kid beside the door, holding a bat in his hands and looking ready to take him down if necessary. He smells like a Beta, still milk-like, the scent of some exotic flower a bare whisp of a thing. 

When Rick turns his gaze to his right, he finds an Alpha, a tall man with broad shoulders standing over the cabinet. He turns to Rick with dark eyes. "Got that bandage changed now, it was pretty rank." he says. The stranger twists a small towel between his hands and asks, "What was it? That wound?"