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Summary: With the hope of CDC lost, the Grimes and the Walsh families are on the road to Ft. Benning. What will Birdie find along the way? Will Birdie and Shane remain side by side wherever the road might lead? *No evil Shane*

Warning: This fan-fiction is rated Mature for Language, Gore and Adult Situations. Readers under the age of 18 are strongly discouraged from reading.

Pairing: Shane & Birdie Walsh

Wherever the Road Might Lead

Chapter One

The light rustling of clothes and thumping of my brother's boots woke me that night. It was nearly pitch black in the roach motel we had taken over as a base early this afternoon, with only bare hints of the moonlight shining through the narrow bathroom window. Had it not been for that little bit of light, I might have screamed.

I guess I was still a little on edge.

Ricky—whom I guessed couldn't sleep either—was tiredly pulling his boots on, attempting to be quiet and not wake Lori and Carl who were sleeping relatively well after everything that had happened at the CDC.

Not wanting him to worry, I rolled over, pretending to still be asleep and stared at the rectangle of moonlight reflected on the wall in front of me.

Ricky walked passed and slowly eased the door open, letting in a blast of cool air into the stifling room. Stifling or not—I wouldn't part with the covers.

Like I said—I was still on edge and Shane had agreed to night watch.

As I laid there, I tried to reflect on the good that had happened today and not the bad—it was easier said than done. I was glad we had survived, I was even happy that Dale had talked Andrea out of committing suicide at the last minute…but I just couldn't shake the despair I saw on Jenner's face as we were leaving. He truly felt that there was absolutely no hope for the future, and for the first time, I actually wondered why.

Was this virus…something more than the government had led on? Was it something more than Jenner had led us to believe? The man was full of secrets and I was suffering from the "should-have" bug. I should have asked more questions, better questions. Instead of screaming in Andrea's face or smacking my brother around, I should have been trying harder to find out why Jenner felt he had to lock us in there with him in the first place. Jenner would have obviously told me anything I wanted to know. So why didn't I ask?

I guess Ricky was right in one respect; I would have made a lousy cop and an even worse interrogator. I was too ruled by my emotions in certain situations and it probably would have gotten me killed somewhere down the line. Not that I ever wanted to be a police officer, but I did entertain the notion long enough when I was in college to send both Rick and Shane into early white-hairs.

"Hey man," I heard Shane whisper through the paper thin walls of the crumbling motel. "How's everybody?"

Rick sighed and then coughed—the prick was smoking and Lori was gonna have his ass in the morning. "Lori and Carl are asleep, knocked out as soon as they laid down…

"And Birdie?"

"Tryin' to act like she's sleepin' so I won't worry." My brother replied, his tone hinting towards amusement.

I had to throw a hand over my mouth so I didn't snort loud enough to give myself away; Fuckin' twin senses.

"Shane," Rick's voice turned softer, more serious. "I wanted…to apologize for—

"No," Shane said, "No, you were right to do what ya did. I lost control. I thought someone was gonna hurt Birdie, Carl, Lori, you…and I just lost it. You ain't got to apologize for my temper."

He laughed then, "Ya might wanna think 'bout apologizin' to Birdie. She's the one ya gotta worry 'bout kickin' you're scrawny ass. She was madder than hell when you hit me, man."

They shared a laugh. "Is that right?"

"Damn right, it is."

"Yeah," my brother agreed. "She never did like it much when we fought."

They laughed again, and I could almost see my brother's eyes twinkling in the moonlight. "So you and Birdie, huh?"

Shane breathed, "Yeah, me n' Birdie. You're…not mad are ya, for me marryin' her this way? I told you the other night…"

"Shane," Rick laughed, cutting off whatever rant he was about to go on. "I don't remember everything from last night—but I do remember that."

He asked Ricky for permission? Holy shit!

"I guess I've always known how you felt about her," he continued, speaking softly. "That look in your eye was always there—but I guess 'cause nothin' ever came about that I assumed ya'll had already talked about it, or you weren't gonna bother… As long as you love her—and I know you do—I won't ever get in the way….But—

Uh-oh, I knew what was comin' next. Here comes the big brother spiel.

"But, if you ever hurt her—

"Rick, if I ever hurt that woman there'd be a line o'people waitin' to throw me to the walkers."

"People like Dixon?" Ricky taunted, laughing even though I distinctly heard a shove and a small thud, followed by Ricky's oompf.

"Shut-up, that redneck's lookin' to have his eyes removed." Ricky laughed at that. "What man? He don't even try to hide it."

"No," Ricky chuckled, "He sure doesn't. But he'd be the first person to protect her in a bad spot."

Shane sighed, "Yeah, I know. Why the hell else do you think I put up with it?"

Ricky laughed again, and I just knew he was about to say somethin' smartass. "Because you know Birdie'd tar and feather your ass if you went around beatin' up her "friends" again."

Not being able to help it, I laughed out loud at Shane's cry of indignity. I didn't give a care if they heard me now, that last comment of Rick's was all too true. If a boy so much as looked at me crossways in high school Shane would start pickin' fights…and dear Lord, when my first boyfriend made me cry after he dumped me for Misty-Joe Teller in front of most of the junior class—Shane got expelled from school for three days after beatin' the kids ass so bad. Shane's dad wasn't a very good man, so it was my father who ended up picking him up that day and talking the principle out of expelling him for good.

Even if that one might have been justified, Shane's track record of scarin' the shit out of some of the dweebs I used to hang out with used to piss me off somethin' fierce, and a few of them broken noses he's suffered over the years were complements of yours truly.

Thinking about high school, thinking about the way life used to be made me a little sad. If things hadn't turned out the way they had, I'd probably be sitting 'round a fire right now in Ricky's back yard to welcome him home from the hospital. We'd be drinkin' a beer and talking about Shane's old conquests…they'd be pickin' on me for dumpin' the man who'd asked me to marry him and life would just be…life.

Before I knew it, tears were streaming down my face and I was trying hard not sob audibly. We had come so close to death today…so, so close.

As if Ricky had sensed my tears, I heard him sigh and tell Shane to go ahead and get some sleep.

"You sure man?"

"Yeah, go on in and see Birdie."

Not even a heartbeat later the door creaked open again, letting in another cool blast of Georgia air and Shane shuffled his way inside. I could tell he was trying to be quiet but he had been outside all night and I could tell by the way he bumped into everything with muffled curses that he probably couldn't see his hand in front of his face.

As he sat down on the edge of the bed behind me, I tried to stifle my tears. Shane didn't need anything else to worry about and I knew my best friend—if he heard me crying he would be worried. His shoes plunked to the floor next and I heard the shuffle fabric against skin as he removed his shirt.

I tried my best to be still, I really did, but when he slid under the covers with me, his hands going around my waist to pull me back to his chest, the dam inside me broke and all my resolve not to cry in front of him crumbled.

"Darlin'?" He questioned, pushing my hair off my neck as he laid a gentle kiss to my pulse point. "Baby? What is it?"

Shanking my head, I sobbed harder, using the pillow under my head to muffle the sound.

"Com'ere," he whispered as he used his arms to roll me over to face him.

Throwing my leg over his hip, I snuggled into his chest and truly sobbed. He didn't really say much of anything…but he didn't need to say anything. I just needed the warmth of his body and lulling beat of his heart. I needed to know that he was really alive and that we weren't back at the CDC as nothing but ash and bone.

"We're here, baby," He told me softly. "We made it."

I nodded against his chest, feeling horrible even though I was happy to be alive. "I feel so guilty."

"What?" He asked, clearly surprised. "Why would ya feel guilty?"

"Jacqui is dead…and I don't even care. I didn't even take a second to try and stop her. I just took my family an' ran like a coward."

"Babe," he sighed. "T-dog tried to talk her out of it; her mind was pretty well set. Don't you go feelin' bad because you lived; don't feel bad because your family made it."

"We almost died today." I whispered brokenly. God, I felt so ridiculous, breaking down now, but I just couldn't get the image of Shane on fire out of my head.

"But we didn't…thanks to you and your gorgeous face."

I snorted and swatted at him. "Yeah, saved us 'cause I look like a dead chick, wonderful. I bet I look horrible now."

He chuckled, shuffling under the blanket until he pulled his hand out and pressed a pad of cloth into my hand. "Here."

"Is this one of your gun rags?" I asked snottily as I wiped my eyes and blew my nose.

"No," he scoffed but didn't elaborate.

I had just been teasing him when I asked him if the now soiled rag was the one he used to pamper his gun with. I could tell by the feel of the cloth that it wasn't like the same as the course utility rag that he and Daryl always seemed to have stuffed somewhere on their persons, it was too delicate and soft.

As I toyed with the material, I realized that the hem and corners were embroidered. Where in the blazes did Shane get a ladies handkerchief?

"Shane?" I laughed, just about to ask…and then I felt something familiar; a raised monogram in the bottom corner of the material. It was a scripted B with a flower and I'd bet my life if I could see, that the hanky would be a worn out blue and the flowers were white daisies.

"Shane, you still have this?" I asked, fingering over the delicate stitching. This thing had to be at least 27 years old…if not older, but Granny Clara insisted a lady should always carry one in case of an emergency. It was one of the first ones I ever did by myself and I distinctly remember the last day I saw it.

I remember that fall being one of the coldest ones in Georgia history. Rick and I had just celebrated our birthdays on September 14th and had Shane celebrated his on the 20th not even a full week before that horrible tragedy had happened. It was almost unbelievable losing Celia and yet there we were, standing around the open grave of Shane's mother.

Shane had never been close with his father—for reasons I don't even know about—and losing his mother… I just remember him looking so lost. He had been truly devastated by her unexpected death and I believe it's what ultimately led him into law enforcement; he wanted to make a difference.

You see, Shane's mother was killed by a drunk driver who had been stopped by an officer that knew him and was let go with a pass. It wasn't all that uncommon back in those days for one of the local law enforcement to see someone they knew, and knew they had a few drinks and still let them drive the rest of the way home. We lived so far out in the country, it usually didn't matter…there wasn't anyone on them roads after dark to get hurt, but this time…it really, really did matter because it was Celia Walsh on the road, on her way back from town with Shane's belated birthday present from the Smith's kids who couldn't make it to his party due to illness.

Shane had been silent all through the service and the eulogy. He didn't utter a word at the gathering afterword, either. In fact he didn't say anything the entire time Rick and I were there with him.

I remembered lying in bed, worried sick about him for hours until Rick got the phone call from Shane's father, pissed off that Shane had snuck out of the house. Shane had gone out the window sometime after his family had left and nobody could find him.

Rick and I—not even bothering to change out of our pajama's—Immediately jumped in his old pick-up and started checking out all of Shane's haunts in town. We ended up searching for hours, and it seemed like we looked everywhere. I remember crying my eyes out thinking of Shane out there on those black roads, cold and feeling lonely. Ricky was a frantic mess; he was scared to death that Shane had gone and done something stupid to himself.

I remember screaming at Ricky to turn around when I realized where Shane was.

We were cruising around the drive-in again…

"He's at the park, Ricky." I remember telling him and I remembered him looking at me like I was insane. On any other day, I would have agreed that the idea of Shane at children's park sounded a little far-fetched…but not that day.

"You remember when we were little and Celia used to watch us…she used to take us to that park every day…"

Ricky was still looking at me like I had sprouted a potato out of my nose, but he turned the truck around and headed for the edge of town.

Sure enough, when we arrived Shane was propped up under a tree near the monkey bars, an empty bottle of peppermint snaps in his hand. Tears were streaming down his face and he was shivering.

I remember Ricky grabbing a blanket out from behind the seat and wrapping him in it before putting him in the truck next to me.

It was the first time Shane had really ever hugged me. As soon as his ass when inside the cab his head was buried into my neck and he didn't let me go the rest of the night. It was then that I gave him that hanky, after drying his wet eyes with and kissing his cheek. I would have never dreamed he actually would keep it.

"Yeah," he replied lowly. "I'm sorry for keepin' it…I just…"

"No, that's alright." I told him, cuddling closer to him. "I gave it to you for a reason. You needed to know that someone still cared about you."

"I love you, Birdie," he told me softly, kissing my lips.

"I love you, too."

I fell asleep soon after with Shane kissing me softly and me telling him that I would always love him. It was the truth—I made a promise there that night in the dark—a promise that no matter what happened…no matter where this life would take us or where our road might lead…I would love that man lying next to me with my last breath.

~ Author's Note ~

Welcome to Wherever the Road Might Lead, as many of you probably noticed right off the bat, this chapter was a lot longer than the ones I've posted in Lil' Bird, and they will remain this way. Hopefully, I can still shell chapters out just as quickly, but no promises...life does happen and all that.

Well, anywho...I thought I give you all a little insight into Shane's past and perhaps show some of the reasons I've made Shane so protective of Birdie and the Grimes family. These little memories will be popping up sporadically all throughout the story. I only hope you all enjoy reading them as much as I love writing them.

Well, off to write chapter three, if I get it finished soon, I'll get chapter two posted right away.

LittleRin26