wildest dreams ━ rick grimes × male!oc

chapter seventeen:

my new work didn't pay my health care 🙃 so now I'm at home, refusing to return to work until they pay for it. mwah x

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Chapter Seventeen: "so greedy, I ain't talkin' money. i'm just physically obsessed."

Rick breathes in slowly and exhales softly, watching as humans and wolves amble around the camp, dragging the dead remains of walkers and their victims somewhere off to the side for proper burial. Holding a hand over his still bleeding wound, Rick slumps against Ren and lets the omega lead him towards their tent.

He's surprisingly... strong, holding him up with an almost practised ease, like he's used to dragging injured people around. Rick makes a quiet humming noise and leans even more into Ren. His omega sends him a concerned look, but doesn't say anything, merely continues on as if the added pressure of Rick's weight doesn't bother him at all.

It's dark outside now and the only source of light is from the moon and the stars, shining softly down upon their broken quarry. Once the sun rises, Rick will be on the move, looking for a better den to hide in. It'll have to be safe. Be warm. Be comfortable.

He idly wonders if that kind of place even exists anymore.

"You're awfully quiet," Ren says, unzipping their tent open. He helps Rick inside and carefully settles him onto the edge of their mattress. "Other than the obvious, what's bothering you?"

"Nothin,'' Rick says, shaking his head. "It's nothin'."

"Okay," Ren nods, all soft and understanding. He slides to his knees, and just like a few days ago, moves into the space between Rick's legs with zero hesitation. Silence falls over them as Rick watches, absolutely transfixed, as Ren undoes the buttons of his uniform shift and gently moves it down his shoulders, careful and soothing, his hands warm as they brush against Rick's skin.

Ren nudges Rick's hand away from his wound and makes a small, noncommittal noise as he fully takes the alpha's work shirt off; it's bloody and ruined and the frown on Rick's face must be deep because Ren smiles and says, "don't worry, I'll try an' fix this too."

Placing the shirt on the ground beside him, Ren continues, "seriously though, if you're in pain, you can tell me. There's no one else in here with us and there's enough medicine to go around."

"No," Rick says, swallowing past the lump in his throat. His voice is hoarse, as if he hasn't spoken in a long while. "Doesn't hurt, darlin'. Feels numb." And it's the truth. The gunshot wound is sluggishly bleeding, leaving his skin and pants a dark red, but it doesn't hurt. There's just an odd numbness accompanied by Ren's gentle fingers prodding at the open wound with furrowed brows.

"Hate to break it to you, but... gunshot wounds are supposed to hurt," his omega's face is perplexed. "Did the... did the other two that put you in a coma not hurt either?"

Rick tries to think back to the day on the highway just outside of King Country. He remembers it being warm, the sun high up and the sky cloudless. When he'd gotten shot that day, there had still been the taste of salty fries in his mouth. "It did," Rick blinks, the movement slow, "I did hurt, but only for the first few seconds. After that, it's just..." Anger.

So much anger.

Ren doesn't push him for further answers and Rick doesn't tell him.

"Okay," Ren says, patting Rick's knees. "I'll clean up the wound first and then-" he pauses, looking conflicted, "-and then i'll use some gunpowder to properly close it up."