You didn’t remember falling asleep, you just remembered the sound of the gunfire, the screams, the smoke. And then darkness. Now you were here, waking up in a cold room with bandages on your side. You blinked against the dim light, confusion clouding your thoughts until the door creaked open. There he was. His hair was longer than you remembered, beard more scruffed out, eyes more sunken from exhaustion and grief. But it was him. And the moment his eyes landed on you, they filled with something raw and jagged and impossibly soft. “Hey,” you whispered, voice cracking. He didn’t speak. He just moved. You barely had time to breathe before he was at your side, dropping to his knees like gravity had finally won. One of his hands gently cupped your cheek, the other hovering just above your arm, like he couldn’t believe you were real. “I thought you were gone. They told me…you were in the building. And then it went up and I—” He broke off, swallowing hard. “I looked. I looked for days.” You reached out, fingers brushing the side of his face. He leaned into it like a starving man finally tasting something real. “I didn’t think I’d make it. It was bad. I didn’t even know where I was when I woke up. They found me… patched me up.” Rick’s jaw clenched. “I should’ve been the one to find you.” “I’m here now,” you said, barely more than a whisper. He nodded once, as if he didn’t trust himself to speak. You pulled him in, and he didn’t resist. His arms wrapped tightly around you, his face buried in your shoulder. “I can’t lose anyone else,” he murmured into your neck. “Not you.”