Colorblind
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The woods only become darker as Rick wanders deeper and deeper into them. His breath, heavy and ragged, consistently interrupts the tune that continues to play somewhere in the distance. Only he's getting closer. He can feel it, as the music gets increasingly louder with every step he takes.

I am colorblind
Coffee black and egg white
Pull me out from the inside

Soon enough the music blares just beyond a clearing he can see in the distance. He unholsters his gun, holds it out in front of him, and slides a few more steps— slow and steady until he rounds the clearing.

The light in the clearing reflects brightly, the light refracting again and again, nearly blinding the former sheriff-turned-ricktator as he squints against the phenomenon.

The eyepatched face. That's all it takes to bring Grimes into action.

The first bullet is fast, yet silent. And appears to miss. In his opposite hand, Rick swings the pipe, attempting to bring it against the Governor's head, much like he would the dead. Dead men walking they are. Dead men walking each of them.

The blow to the head has the Governor stumbling over onto his knees whereupon Rick tackles him. Hard. The Governor topples agains the force, and Rick kneels overtop of the other man, delivering blow after blow with his own hands. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. The blood gushes from the victim's face, and, perhaps, from Rick's own hands. The rage draws tears, complete with sobs from the assailant. Yet the tears boil further anger as he rages on.

Only to register the smell of rotting flesh.

Rick blinks hard behind his building tears which blur his vision. And the face changes. To his own. His face. He blinks harder, prompting the face to meld again into that of Daryl. And then Shane.

Rick's hands drop to his sides and he pushes himself away from the walker beneath him. The walker who was both never and always the Governor, Shane, Lori, and Daryl. He slides to the ground, and folds into himself. His bloody fingers serving as his only shield from the ridicule given by his copatriats who surround him, chanting their accusations in turn. Not that it's about the accusers.

No. Rick Grimes stands guilty.

Rick denies nothing. He knows what he's done. He knows what he's responsible for.

Shane's blood is on his hands.

Lori's blood is on his hands.

Daryl's blood is on his hands.

Never has the Sheriff been blameless.

Yet never has he been so guilty.

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