Rick's throat felt dry. He was still hooked up to an IV that had long since run out. As he looked at some flowers - or what resembled flowers - on a nightstand beside the hospital bed, he reached out and crushed the dead flowers between his fingers. He didn't know what was happening, but he knew he needed to get out of the hospital. He needed to get out of there now. As he tried to get out of his hospital bed - all while trying to be mindful of his recent gunshot - he collapsed on the floor in a heap.

Rick groaned as he slowly rolled onto his side, thankful that he managed not to injure himself, but still feeling extremely weak. "Nurse, help." he said, his voice strained he lay on the floor. "Nurse, help!" he tried saying a little louder, but to no avail. No one was coming. Before he could pick himself up off the floor, he paused when he heard movement outside his hospital room, signaling someone was there.