Gale's expression softened when Rick asked about Lucien. She set down the pill bottles and leaned back against the wall.
"He lost his parents when he was young. He had to live with his uncle who made it clear that he wasn't wanted."
Rick knew that story. He had seen it play out in King County more times than he cared to remember, with kids shuffled between relatives who saw them as burdens rather than family.
"That kind of environment... It makes kids grow up fast. They learn to read rooms and people. Figure out what adults want to hear before they even ask. It's survival, just a different kind than what we're dealing with now."
Gale glanced toward the door Lucien had disappeared through.
"So when the world went to hell, he already knew how to survive people. The walkers are just a different threat. That's why he seems so put together."
Rick thought about Carl. The idea of his son growing up the way Lucien had made something twist in his chest.
"This damn world," Gale said with a bitter voice. "It's always the kids who pay the price. They shouldn't have to carry this kind of weight."
She gave Rick the rest of Lucien's story then, the version Lucien had constructed. His family had been separated in the chaos. His uncle had probably died in the first wave. He was a kid alone in a dying city who had gotten lucky enough to run into Shane.
By the time she finished, Rick felt like he'd been punched in the gut. He hadn't expected that. He hadn't expected the calm, smart kid who'd delivered Shane's message to be carrying that much loss.
Maybe it was because he had Carl. Or maybe it was the cop instinct that had always made him a sucker for kids in bad situations. Either way, looking at Lucien's situation made him feel protective in a way that was hard to explain.
When he recovered, he was heading to Atlanta. And maybe, if Lucien was willing, he could bring him along. Gale too, if she'd come. Though he had a feeling she wouldn't.
"I hope Carl's okay," he muttered, more to himself than to Gale. "I hope Shane got them out."
The words felt hollow. Hope was all he had right now.
Gale handed him the pills and a cup of water. "Get some rest. You're no good to anyone if you don't heal up first."
Rick took them, swallowed them dry, and let exhaustion drag him under.
---
Lucien sat on the floor of his room, the door locked, his trunk open in front of him.
Rick was awake. Which meant the clock was ticking. In the show, Rick hadn't stayed at the hospital long. A day or two to get his bearings, maybe check his house, then he'd headed to Atlanta looking for his family.
He pulled out a notebook, and started making a list. Not because he needed to write it down, but because seeing it on paper made it feel more manageable.
What I Can Actually Do:
Wingardium Leviosa - The Levitation Charm was his bread and butter now. He could cast it silently, wandlessly even, though that drained his magic faster than he liked. It was his main weapon when things went bad. Lift something heavy, throw it at a walker, done. Not elegant, but effective.
Episkey - The basic healing charm was still inconsistent. Small cuts, minor bruises, those he could handle. Anything deeper and the spell would work for a few seconds before fizzling out. And casting it on other people? That ate through his magic like nothing else, and the results were hit or miss at best.
Aguamenti - The Water-Making Spell was purely utility. He could conjure enough for drinking, for washing, but not enough to weaponize. It wasn't going to blast anyone off their feet. Just clean water, which was honestly more valuable than combat magic in an apocalypse.
Scourgify - The Scouring Charm. Low magic cost, high effectiveness, and probably the spell he used most often because everything in this world was covered in blood and rot and God knew what else.
Transfiguration - This one was frustrating. He could change the shape of objects but he couldn't transform materials completely. No turning rocks into bread or metal into gold. Just reshaping what was already there. Useful for improvised weapons, but limited.
Supplies:
The Invisibility Cloak was still perfect, same with his wand.
Food was fine for now. Gale had been sharing rations, and he had squirreled away some energy bars and canned goods when no one was looking. Water wasn't a concern thanks to the Water-Making Spell.
Medicine... he had some. Enough to be useful, not enough to play field medic for a whole group.
Weapons, though. That was the problem. A crowbar was too heavy. In a fight, he'd be slow. And slow got you killed. He needed a gun. Or at the very least, a proper knife. Something he could use without throwing out his back in the process.
"Get a weapon that doesn't weigh half as much as I do," he muttered, writing it down.
Next: the group dynamics.
He'd been planting seeds with the Joneses over the past few days. Casual comments here and there, mentioning Atlanta, the rumors of safe zones, and the idea that staying in one place was probably not sustainable in the long run. Morgan listened and nodded thoughtfully. Jenny looked worried, but hopeful.
Now Rick was awake, and his destination was Atlanta as well. He was looking for Lori and Carl, following Shane's trail.
The math was simple: two groups, same destination, high probability they'd travel together.
Which meant he needed to position himself to join them.
Best case scenario: Rick or Morgan offered to bring him along. They felt grateful for his help, and extended the invitation without Lucien having to ask.
Worst case: nobody offered, and he had to manufacture a reason to tag along. "I'm worried about Shane. I want to find him in Atlanta. Can I ride with you?" Pathetic enough to pull on Rick's heartstrings, practical enough that they couldn't really say no.
Either way, he was getting in that car.
He had to. The main group were his best chance at survival. Lone wolfing it in the apocalypse was a death sentence, especially for a kid. He needed their protection, resources, and firepower.
And more than that... he knew the story. He knew where they'd be, what threats they'd face, when things would go wrong. That knowledge was the only real advantage he had, and it was useless if he wasn't there to use it.
Lucien closed the notebook and leaned back against the bed.
---
Two days later, Rick couldn't take it anymore.
His body was still weak, but sitting in that hospital room staring at the ceiling was driving him insane.
He needed to know.
Gale tried to stop him. "You're not ready. You can barely walk without getting winded."
"I'll be careful," Rick said, already pulling on the clothes she had found for him. He dressed quickly in clean jeans, a flannel shirt, and boots that were only slightly too big. "I just need to see the house."
She didn't look happy, but she didn't restrain him either. After a quiet sigh, she handed him a bottle of water and a protein bar. "Don't do anything stupid."
"I wouldn't dream of it."
Morgan offered to go with him, but Rick shook his head. This was something he needed to do alone.
---
The walk was surreal.
King County looked as though a bomb had gone off. Cars were abandoned in the street with their doors hanging open, and trash lay scattered across lawns. A few walkers wandered in the distance. They were easy to avoid.
His neighborhood was worse. The Millers' house had the front door smashed in. The Harrisons' place had blood smeared across the driveway.
His house looked untouched. The front door was closed, and the windows were intact, as if Lori and Carl might walk out at any second.
Rick's hands shook as he unlocked the door.
The inside was dark. He moved through the rooms slowly.
Living room: empty.
Kitchen: empty.
Carl's room: toys scattered across the floor like he'd left mid-play.
Their bedroom... Rick stood in the doorway and stared.
The bed was made. Lori's side table was clear. He opened the closet. Half of her clothes were gone. He checked the bathroom. Several toiletries were missing.
She'd packed.
That meant she had left on her own terms. There had been no panic. She had time to gather what mattered.
Rick's knees nearly gave out from relief. He sank onto the bed.
The photo albums were gone too, the ones showing Carl as a baby, their wedding day, and family trips to the lake. Lori would not have taken them unless she planned to return someday, unless she believed there was still a future worth holding onto.
Shane had gotten to them. He had to have. He had found Lori and Carl, protected them, and taken them somewhere safe.
Atlanta.
Rick stood, and left the house behind.
---
When Rick got back to the hospital, Morgan was waiting in the lobby with his family.
"Rick!" Morgan called out, waving him over.
They'd gotten to know each other over the past two days.
"You heading out?" Rick asked.
"Yeah." Morgan glanced at Jenny and Duane. "We talked it over. Figured we'd try our luck in Atlanta. We heard there's a refugee center set up by the military."
Rick felt something click into place.
"That's where I'm going too. We should travel together. It'll be safer that way."
Morgan's face split into a grin. "I was hoping you'd say that."
They found Gale in one of the patient rooms, changing IV bags for a man who looked more dead than alive. Lucien was with her, holding supplies.
"Dr. Gale," Rick said. "Lucien. We're heading to Atlanta, and we wanted to see if you'd be willing to come with us."
Morgan and his family stood behind Rick.
Jenny stepped forward. "Come with us."
Gale straightened, setting down the IV bag, and Rick saw the answer on her face before she spoke.
"I can't. There are still patients here who need care. And there might be survivors out there who are desperate and need a place to go. If I stay, I can help them."
She didn't mention the other part, the mercy she offered to people who couldn't take another day in this hell. But Rick suspected she did that too. He respected her for it. He did not agree with the choice, but he respected it.
All eyes turned to Lucien.
The kid looked conflicted. His gaze flicked between Gale and the group.
Duane poked his head out from behind his mother. "Lucien! Come with us!"
Over the past few days, the boy had grown attached to Lucien. He called him his friend and spoke about him constantly.
Lucien's expression shifted. He looked tempted. But then his eyes went to Gale, and his face fell.
"I should stay," he said quietly. "Dr. Gale will need help. I can't just leave her here alone."
Rick's chest tightened.
The kid was brave. He was offering to stay in a dead hospital in a dead city because he felt obligated to repay Gale for her kindness.
That wasn't right.
Before Rick could say anything, Gale crouched down in front of Lucien. She put her hands on his shoulders.
"Lucien. Thank you. I know why you want to stay. But here's the thing. Even in a world like this, adults don't let kids carry that kind of weight. That's not how it works."
Lucien started to protest, but Gale held up a hand.
"You're smarter than most kids I've ever met. You're smarter than most adults. But you're still eleven years old. And that means you deserve a chance at something better than this."
She gestured toward the window and the city beyond.
"You need to go to Atlanta. Maybe they'll have schools there."
Her eyes were bright.
"You're the future. You and kids like Duane. And the future doesn't belong in a place like this. It belongs somewhere with hope."
The room was silent.