A/N - This is my first Walking Dead fic and I'm a little nervous about posting it, but I'm trying to get braver regarding posting my work. Like I've said in the summary, don't worry about any spoilers or annoying things like that, at most there's some alluding to building damage caused by the saviors but no more than that. I'm a Brit so, if the dialogue seems off at any point or the words are spelt differently that's probably why. Any other errors are probably just mine (lol!).

The Daryl in this is (season 4-6) Daryl. I think its a important distinction to make, because personally to me after that point ... well.

Rick and Michonne are just Rick and Michonne.

Anyway ... I hope you enjoy this random little piece. If you wanna discuss anything, find me on tumblr under the same name - scandalousminds or PM me.

I own nothing but the words, the rest is all Kirkman's and AMC's and absolutely no infringement is intended.

P.S

I'm sorry if this if awful.

Michonne found him in the kitchen. Sitting alone, on top of their dusty kitchen surface next to the sink, surrounded by a litter of dirty towels. It looked as though he'd started the process of cleaning up, but given up half way through. He was just sitting there. Head down and hands clasped – his default posture of late. He looked lonely. He looked sad. It seemed, as though whenever she saw him, he was always either … one, the other or both.

She could also read his anger, and she could relate to it. She was angry as well, at him, at herself, at Negan, at the world. At everything. She was angry about always feeling angry. Angry, at the constant simmer of rage inside her, and every time she truly contemplated on how they were all currently living, she felt that anger grow.

Their change of life had been quick, too quick. In fact, so quick it had made her head spin. Life had been good for a while back there, she'd started believed 'the good' was possible again. But, once again her world was being tilted and it was causing her to lose balance, to forget who she was, who she was supposed to be. She knew, she'd been making some bad decisions lately, that her judgement had been a little off, and it bruised her ego, as much as it did her confidence.

The one thing Michonne had always been, until recently, was logical. She was a strategist. She was smart. She had always been logical. But of late, her logic was failing her, she was losing her objectivity and she knew it.

She had so much to lose now and she was trying desperately to hold onto it all. Michonne needed Negan to die, so everybody else she loved could start to live again. She needed to finish what she'd started, and that need was burning the insides of her. It was the driving force behind her making calls that were more instinctual than rational.

Pulling herself out of her inner dwellings, Michonne walked over to the hunched body in front of her, she knew that he likely wanted to be left alone. She was aware of his pattern. This was what he did, every time tragedy struck. He'd hide growl and hide and usually everyone just let him be. But on this night, Michonne decided she couldn't allow it. He didn't get to play victim, not when everyone else was at various degrees of hurting too. She nudged his foot with her knee and waited for him to look at her, she ended up waiting almost eighty-two seconds – she'd counted for lack of anything else to do.

When he looked up at her, he didn't quite meet her eyes, but he at least appeared to be looking in her the general orbit.

"Wah?" he grunted.

"That's what I was about to ask you." She replied, he looked away to the window, there was nothing to see but distant stars and the remnants of smoke and floating debris, but he looked on anyway.

"What are you doing, Daryl? Why aren't you helping to clear up out there? You don't just get to run. You don't have that right. You don't get to hide. None of us do anymore."

He looked at her then, throwing what was supposed to be a hard look her way. "I ain't hiding."

Michonne threw a hard look back. "That's exactly what you're doing."

"Don' tell me—" Daryl didn't get far before Michonne cut him off.

"Someone has to. You're being a martyr and this isn't the time. We don't have the time."

Daryl shooed at her, "well leave then. I ain't ask you to come here botherin' me anyway."

She chuckled, sardonically. "You'd love that, wouldn't you? Having me walk away, so you can feel alone and dejected. But I'm not giving you that, what we did today. What happened at the Sanctuary, it—it almost cost me everything. You don't get to wallow, none of us do, we have to keep going."

"You don' get it. Non' of ya'll do." Michonne watched on unaffected.

"Aww, poor baby. You got some emotional booboos? That's a shame. But, sooner or later you're gonna have to get over them, just like we all do. You're not special Dixon."

"Watch it, 'Chonne" Daryl growled out, "watch how you're talkin' to me."

Michonne cocked her head to the side, not particularly liking his arrangement of words or his tone. "Or what? Is this new extra-damaged Daryl, a woman beater as well as a chronic-emotional narcissist?"

At hearing those words, Daryl jumped off the counter and crowded her space. But, Michonne hadn't backed down, she could in no way be intimidated by Daryl Dixon. She knew him well enough to know he would never cross that line. He was currently in his default defensive mode, not his default aggressive one. She was just grateful he was engaging with her at all. It had been so long since they'd spoken properly. Their whole group was so fractured and detached. It seemed like, no one got to talk to anyone anymore.

His words were gravelly and quick, "take that back."

But, Michonne was quick too. "No."

"'Chonne … take it back!"

Daryl glared into Michonne's face and just as she was about to open her mouth, to repeat her unrepentant 'no' again, she stopped herself. She stopped and looked at him, really looked at him. It was then she understood why he wanted her to take her words back, it was in that moment that Michonne realised the depth of pain her words had inflicted. She'd forgotten his history. She'd forgotten their times together back at the prison, when they'd been close, when they'd gone on the road together and talked about their pasts – well, as much as Michonne and Daryl had been capable of talking back then. Their 'talks' had usually consisted of random revelatory one-line sentences and brief arbitrary admissions here and there. He hadn't spoken much, but he'd told her more than he'd ever told anybody else.

'My old man, wasn't a good guy – 'specially not to me and Merl. He was worse with my ma. Ain't much more to say than that. He just … wasn't a good guy.'

As the memory resurfaced in her mind, her eyes widened and then quickly softened enough to reveal the remorse that flooded her system. She took a step forward, but he took a step back, looking at her with something akin to betrayal. She couldn't even blame him this time.

"I didn't mean it like that. I would never—I shouldn't have said that." Michonne looked down, shaking her head, irritated she'd gone somewhere so personal without actually intending. "I shouldn't have said that. I know that's not you." Michonne's voice was softer than when they'd first began their conversation.

"That ain't me. I wouldn't hurt a woman like that. I wouldn't hurt you. That ain't me." He didn't look at her.

"I know, I know that. I was wrong for that. I'm sorry for that last part." Letting out a deep sigh, "I've been wrong a lot lately."

Daryl turned back to her, maybe hearing the grief that was wrapped around her tone. He squinted at her, clearly confused by what she'd just said. "How's that?"

Looking at the ceiling, Michonne tried to hold back the frustrated tears that were threatening to spill over. All the near misses of the day were starting to hit her in one fell swoop.

"Today was a series of bad calls for me. I should've stopped you and Tara. I should've talked you out of what you were planning to do. Honestly, I should have stayed home, if I hadn't of left maybe—" she paused to rein herself in, she couldn't lose control. It wasn't the time. "Instead, I let you down, I let myself down." She paused once more as her throat constricted on her. "I let Rick down."

Upon hearing the catch in her throat, Daryl reached forward and allowed his palm to rest on the junction of her neck and collarbone. This time it was his voice that softened slightly.

"Hey, nah. Wha' 'appened is on me and Tara, ain't none of it on you. I was gonna do wha' I did anyway, you wouldna been able to talk me out of it. I was doin' what I thought was right. But, I know, I shoulda listened to you."

Michonne could barely hear him, she was spiralling into the 'what could have beens' and the 'almosts.'

"I'm making too many mistakes lately, too many lapses in judgement. I could've lost—"

Daryl's hand tightened on her pulse point, trying to pull her mind away from where he knew it was heading. The same dark places he had been in when she'd found him.

"Hey, they're fine. It didn't happen. Stop thinkin' on it."

Michonne scoffed and shook her head, "that's a little ironic coming from you."

His lips turned upwards slightly, it wasn't a smile per say but, it was the closest he'd given to anyone else of late. He pulled back a little, letting his hand fall to her upper arm, trying to offer her some sort of comfort. He wasn't sure he was doing it right, it wasn't necessarily his forfeit, but for her he was giving it a solid go.

But, he was still Daryl Dixon.

"Shut up. You talk too much."

She grinned, and the softness of it, caused Daryl's eyes to fall to the floor. She tilted her head a little, trying to catch his gaze again, but he avoided her efforts, like his life depended on it … and, in a way it did.

"Hey, I really am sorry for what I said. I stick by everything I said before it, but … I didn't mean that. I shouldn't have made it personal."

He'd shuffled sideward slightly, muttering a quiet 'a'right' but Michonne could still see, the residual upset her low blow had caused and she hated the wound she'd inflicted on her friend.

"We good?" she asked after a few moments of stillness.

Again, he frowned, "ya, we' always good."

Michonne's mind refocused once more on her objective. "So, then talk to me." She moved so his hand dropped from her arm, but before he could retreat, she clasped his hand in her own, trying to reinforce her words. "You're not alone."

Daryl tried to pull away, but his friend was strong and although it was a deep source of irritation in that particular moment, he was also begrudgingly proud of her. He liked that she knew how to handle herself. That she was powerful. She was brave in ways he could have only hoped to have been. However, he would never admit it aloud, not wanting to witness her self-satisfied beam. "Yah? What if I wanna be, huh?"

She looked at him, like a parent looking at child having a tantrum. "Alone is good for no one. You have us Daryl, use us … while we're all still here."

"Nah. I'm good." He wrenched his hand away, attempting to turn back to the window, but she'd gripped his arm. Damn she was strong.

"You're not! And, I'm not good with that."

Daryl sighed, "why'd you care, huh?"

It was Michonne's turn to frown at that, he was her family, he was her friend. They used to be so close that at one point she'd considered him one of her best friends. Somewhere along the way, they'd lost that closeness and she wanted it back. She wanted to fix the rift that had grown between them, to be there for him, like she was with the rest of her family. She couldn't understand why he was fighting her so hard. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Look, you're wit Rick now. It ain't right to talk like we used to. Things are different now."

Michonne's head flew back and her brow furrowed even harder. She was puzzled. Daryl's reasoning, was non-linear at best and flawed at most. What did the two have to do with each other? Their friendship wasn't inappropriate in any way.

"Daryl, Rick and me being together, doesn't change our friendship."

This time, Daryl did turn his back to her. He gazed unseeingly out of the window again, watching as stray embers blew passed, like fireflies.

"It does. It has to." Daryl murmured.

Michonne didn't except that, for her – no one got left behind.

"We're family no matter what. Nothing changes that. You should already know that."

Daryl huffed a frustrated breath, he was quickly approaching his limit with their conversation. "Man, you don't understand nothin'!"

"So, explain it to me. Make me understand! I'm here! I'm trying to help you Daryl. Let me." Michonne replied, equally frustrated with his aloofness.

Michonne moved in closer, attempting to calm him or at least supress his agitation some, but the instant she rested her hand against his forearm, he spun around and reared back, as if electrocuted. Michonne quickly raised her hands in surrender, adopting the stance of a hunter appeasing an angry bear.

For perhaps the first time, she did feel a little intimidated in that moment. His visceral reaction to her simple touch shocked her. She was trying to understand him, but it felt in vain.

Her shock and confusion only mounted, when out of nowhere, she felt Daryl's mouth latched to hers. The unexpectedness of it, rendered her frozen.

Panicked, Michonne pulled away, turning away to lay her hands on the centre of counter behind her, she needed to steady herself and right her equilibrium. The moment she did, her eyes caught a sight that made her heart stutter.

Rick.

She could have cried in relief. She'd been waiting for him, she'd missed him more than he would probably have believed in the moment.

Out of all the decisions she's ever made, good or bad, he was by far one of her best, and the joy she felt in seeing him standing there in the door way – bruised and muddy, but ultimately glorious – was abruptly shattered by the realisation of what he'd likely just witnessed.

She knew his history. He'd told her everything. Not all at once, but piece by piece – in their quiet moments – he had revealed the wounds that had lead to the fragmenting of his heart and straining of his psyche. She knew all too well, what that moment must have looked like to him, how it would have felt all too familiar.

From his perspective, it would have looked bad, it looked bad to her and she knew there was nothing in it.

Rick's poorly suppressed look of devastation, made Michonne feel as though, something clawing out her insides.

"Rick—" she started and stopped within seconds, unsure of what to say or even where to start.

Rick decided to start the conversation for her. "What did I just walk into?"

"Nothing. I know—" Michonne tried to move forward, but Rick held his hand up, trying to keep her at bay for a moment. He needed a minute to think and to organise his thoughts. He knew he wouldn't be able to do that, if she was standing too close to him.

However, the unfamiliarity of his rebuff caused Michonne's stomach to drop.

"No. Stop. Please, don't try to blind me right now. Just answer the question. What did I just walk into?"

"Rick, just lis—"

He could already hear her automatic denial, the empty appeasements, he'd heard them before in what felt like a past life. But that wasn't what he wanted now, not from her. He wanted the truth. He needed it.

'Please God, don't let this being happening again' was on a constant loop in his mind.

After a day like the one Rick had had, after all he'd gone through, after all he'd seen. After all he'd heard from Rosita and the others, about what had gone down, while he'd been outside the gates. Rick was about eight minutes away from burning down the entirety of what remained of their house.

"Don't. Please don't do that. I've been here before. I know what this feeling is, and I'm really trying not to lose my mind here. So, this is last time I'm asking. What did I just walk into?" All in the room could tell that Rick's calm was fraying around its edges.

"I don't know."

It was every bit the truth. Michonne, truly wasn't sure what had happened, she hadn't seen it coming. Daryl didn't do stuff like this. She knew he hadn't meant it and she suspected he'd used her a much-needed port in a storm, somewhere to air his emotional frustrations. She knew he probably would have done the same with Carol or Maggie or whoever else was in close proximity. She knew it meant nothing, but the idea of verbalising everything, felt beyond her.

Michonne suddenly felt incredibly exhausted. The strain she'd put on her body throughout the day – too prematurely (yet again another example of poor decision making) – was being to show itself. The pain was beginning to set into her bones and her physical aches were throbbing in tandem with her emotional ones. She couldn't think anymore, and she didn't know what to say to explain it all away.

"It wasn't her, man. That was me." Both Michonne and Rick were watching him, so Daryl began to shift uncomfortably. "I know I've been real dumb lately and … I'm sorry for it. I'm real sorry for what went down out there today too,"

"You're 'sorry'?" Rick tilted his head, and then abruptly started moved forward at a speed that caused both Daryl and Michonne to step backwards, but Daryl's failure to move quickly enough, caused Michonne to stumble over his boots and into his chest. The velocity of it all forced Daryl to catch and steady her by her waist. An action which had triggered Rick to halt his advancement immediately.

He stopped eyeing Daryl's hands, eyeing the way Daryl and Michonne rushed to draw apart, eyeing the way they were eyeing him. His clenched jaw and the twitch of his fist communicated loudly to Daryl. While the shattered look of hurt and the slight-tremble in his posture communicated to plainly to Michonne.

Rick brought his bandaged hand to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose, as he closed his eyes in an attempt to contain himself.

"This has got to be, one of the worst days of my life and—and that's really sayin' somethin', I mean … Holy God! I have got to be one of the unluckiest sons of—Twice! Twice, this has happened now. Apparently, brotherhood don't mean a damned thing to no one but me anymore." His vacant chuckle made them both uneasy. "Maybe it never has. I mean, Cain killed Abel, right?"

"Rick—"

Rick didn't pause, he continued speaking over her – partly to the them and partly to himself. "Every brother, I've ever had has let me down. Each one has tried to break me in some way or the other. But, you—" Rick pointed dead at Daryl. "This is the most painful hit yet. This one—you know—. You know what this type of—you know what this did to me last time and …"

"I'm sorry." Daryl husked out.

Rick nodded. "Yeahh, yeah you are. That's the first thing today you've gotten right and that's a damn shame,"

Michonne felt the need to cut in again, to try to get Rick to understand that Daryl's actions were empty ones, fuelled by nothing but Daryl's own desperation for some sort of connection. She could feel how much he regretted it, how uncomfortable he was, as Rick glared at him. She understood that Rick needed to forgive Daryl's idiocy. They were the only brothers each other had left, Michonne understood how much they needed one another as a support system, whether they could admit it to themselves or not.

"Rick. I promise you, nothing was in that, it didn't mean anything."

Michonne walked towards him slowly, not wanting to experience the bitter rejection of before. When he didn't pull away, she allowed herself to relax into the hold she had on his face. She just stood there for an instant, taking a moment to enjoy the way he involuntarily pressed his stubbled cheek into her palm. She allowed herself a minute to appreciate the comfort his inadvertent action provided her, before redeploying on her original course of action.

Michonne gently tugged against his jaw, in an effort to pull Rick's focus away from Daryl and onto her. She was relieved when it worked, she was even more relieved when she saw that his eyes still held the same magnitude of love for her, that she'd been getting glimpses of lately. She could see his upset too, the agony which was starting to take root behind his corneas. But, there was more love there. So much love.

"It didn't mean anything."

To her surprise, Rick lifted his bandaged hand up to her cheek, whilst leaning forward to rest his forehead against hers.

He too, seemed to need the reassurance their closeness brought, as soon, he was pulling her into him for a tight embrace he appeared anxious for.

Michonne happily obliged and while trying to ease his tension, she nestled closer against him, allowing her temple to burrow against the curve of his neck. And, for an second it seemed to be working, but then all too soon Rick's angry glare was firmly Daryl's guilty one.

"It didn't to you sweetheart. But, I know where my brother's heads at, don't I Cain?"

Daryl froze, as he observed the coldness of Rick's stare. "… don't..."

Rick scrutinised Daryl, his hard eyes burning into his brother's fearful ones. "I should." Daryl shifted under Rick's squint. Rick allowed his hand to run tenderly against Michonne's back, she was getting heavier and he could feel now how tired she was.

"In a single day you almost cost me everythang! Everythang, I've fought to keep alive. And still, you wanted to take the final kill shot?"

Rick's words seemed triggered something inside of Daryl. He knew he needed to say something then. "I didn't. y—ya know I love y'all."

Rick scoffed at that. "Yeah, I know exactly who you love."

Daryl shrunk beneath Rick's glare and Rick against his own better judgement, Rick decided to ease up a little.

Gently pushing two of Michonne's locks out of her face, Rick tilted her face upwards lightly, scanning her, searching her expression for something. A sign that maybe she'd enjoyed Daryl's kiss or an indication that she was anywhere else but with him. He found nothing. The relief so was profound, he kissed her forehead in both love and liberation.

He knew that after all this was dealt with, he would need to talk to her. To tell her explicitly what she meant to him, he couldn't just keep assuming she knew anymore. Not when there was apparently someone else waiting on the side-lines to do so too.

He gazed into her eyes, observing the way she gave him her undivided attention. "I need you to go to Carl. He needs you. That's why I came to find you. Can you go to him? He won't … talk to me."

Michonne didn't hesitate. "Of course." Her smile however was a weak and tired imitation of what it should have been.

As she was edging towards their front door she paused, turning to look between Daryl and Rick, unsure of whether to leave them alone or not. Although she didn't truly believe it would go the way of Rick and Shane, but she wasn't completely dismissive of the possibility either.

Rick caught the break in Michonne's step, and the second he noticed her eyes on Daryl, he experienced a sicking sense of Déjà vu. And, just like that, every insecurity he had about not being enough, or rather good enough, attacked him once more.

He knew what she was thinking, and it made him wonder… 'If things with Daryl went left the way they did with Shane, would she recoil from me in the same way Lori did.'

Rick knew that, he wouldn't have been able to have recover from a blow like that. Lori's betrayal had nearly broken him, but Michonne's … a betrayal from her would end him. There'd be no coming back from that for him.

He terrified himself further by questioning if Michonne would mourn Daryl like she'd loved him or if he'd receive the same look of disgust he got from Lori after the fall of the farm. Just the thought of Michonne reacting that way to him, caused the panic to almost cripple him for perhaps the third time that day.

No. he shook his head. They weren't the same. 'This was different.' Michonne was different.

Rick fought past the fear and looked at the woman who was like his heartbeat. The moment he did his fears began to evaporate as if they'd never been. In her eyes he read … 'Don't hurt him, not for me, but for you. You love him. You'd regret it. He didn't mean it. You're brothers. I'm with you. Only you.'

It was almost impossible for Rick to look at her and not see everything she meant to him, it was even more impossible however, not feel an exorbitant level of rage, at the knowledge that his own brother trying to inveigle her away from him.

Again.

Another brother.

It was so twisted it could almost be funny. Michonne's hand found his cheek again, heaving him out of his spiralling thoughts.

"He didn't mean it. Remember who you are." Rick kissed her hand and let her walk away, listening for the moment the front door opened and closed behind her. He turned, to watch her head down the steps.

"I'm sor—" Daryl started, but he didn't get far.

"I've known since the prison." Daryl's mouth snapped shut at those words and he shuffled backwards until he was leaning against the sink.

"I've always known. But I thought you knew too. I thought you knew how tore up I was, about feeling like I felt about her, so soon after Lori. How conflicted I was, and I know … I know I wasn't good to her back then, I didn't her value, like I should've. I know that." Rick turned back from gazing out of the panelled door, when he could no longer see her. He was somewhat calmer. It was as though the moment Michonne left, his aggression did too. His primitive need to be chief alpha eased up and the red fog cleared.

Now he was just a tired man, in need of a drink and time with his family.

"I know you saw who she was. I know that you realised she was one of us early on, probably the same time Carl did honestly. I remember, and I saw how you were around her, even back then." Rick sighed. "So, when I started to see her, really see her. After the smog had lifted, after the misplaced mistrust was gone. When I started noticin' her …" he paused, uncomfortable about voicing everything he'd previously ignored.

"When I started noticin' her, I started noticin' you too. I noticed how y'all was always together, when she wasn't with Carl, she was with you. I saw what was brewing and I chose not to do anything about what I felt because of that. I chose not to be Shane or Cain or any of the men like them. I stayed back, I let it be."

Rick started to nod, as if trying to right the story in his own mind. As trying to convince himself he'd done the right thing. "I stayed back. But … then, so did you. So, I thought—I thought you were over her or that you didn't—that you'd let go of all that. I was obviously wrong …"

Daryl was quiet for a long moment, appearing for once to consider his choice of words carefully. "It was never a choice."

"For her or for you?" Asked Rick.

Daryl shrugged looking even more uncomfortable as time when on. "Both. It wasn't like that for her."

"It was. I think." Rick shifted uneasily, "I think she liked you, more than she realised she did. She smiled when she talked about you." Rick's eyes wouldn't meet Daryl's and Daryl was grateful because he could look at Rick either. They both just stared at the counter between them. "I wasn't blind to how close you two were, maybe—maybe it's me who should apologise. Maybe, I should have told you where I was at, warned you the day we were chasing after Jesus, so at least you knew. I hid a lot from you and I was wrong for a lot. How you found out—"

Daryl cut him off quickly, not wanting to discuss that particular moment. "We don't gotta talk about that."

But, Rick pushed on regardless, the conversation felt long overdue. "I know how that would've felt and I am sorry for that. But, what you did just now, I think, I think that was worse. You don't get to try to steal my wife, because you think you loved her first. And, maybe you did … I don't know … but, I still can't allow that." The fire was fleetingly back in his as Rick looked at Daryl again. "She's mine. I'm hers. I fought too hard for her to lose her now. I won't and anything that stands in my way … won't be in my way for very long."

The threat was obvious, but Daryl didn't dispute it. "I don't know why I did it."

"Yeahh, you do. You were mad, and you thought you'd stop holding onto, what you've been holding onto. You wanted to shoot your shot. I can understand that. I can. But, you were still wrong."

Daryl shuffled, "I know I shouldna done it. I know that. I do. But you're still my brother. I still got love for you."

"I might be crazy, but I believe you." Rick tilted his head to try to catch Daryl's eye. "I do."

Rick sighed, looking behind him to check they were still alone. "If I saw the same threat in you, I saw in Shane. You'd be dead already." This wasn't a shock to the man in front of him. This was information Daryl already knew – hence his avoidance of the situation. "You're still my brother and I still love you too, but, you can't stay in my house no more. I can't be looking over my shoulder everyday, making sure, you're not waiting in the wings for her to be in need of a friend or something. I can't take that risk. I trust her with my life, but you … I don't know where you stand right now."

At that, Daryl pushed himself off his slouch against the sink. "With you man. I always stand with you. This don't change that."

Rick looked at him, like he was a talking walker. "This changes a whole lot."

"You gonna tell her?" Daryl didn't try to face Rick as he asked and waited for his answer.

Once again, Rick repeated "I should" and the pettiest part of him couldn't help but embraced the rush of satisfaction he felt at the alarm on his brother's face, it was similar to Rick's own when he'd walked in on, what he'd walked in on.

"But I won't."

Daryl looked up somewhat hopeful, before he squinted in suspicion. "Why?"

Rick hesitated before he answered, he took the moment to rub at his tired eyes. "It'd cause issues for all of us. And honestly, I don't want her to have to choose."

That answer confused Daryl more. "Why? You know she'd choose you anyway."

Rick nodded slowly, but not with complete assurance. "I think she would … but she's her own woman and I'm not the—some days, I'm surprised she chose me at all. But, I'm too selfish a man to risk not being the one she picks when she finds out she has another choice. A choice, who's already chosen her. Those ain't good odds. My last wife chose another man—my brother! I'm not risking that again. I'm not giving anymore seeds like that a chance to grow. Not again."

"You serious, man? Maybe you don't deserve her if you think you could lose her that easy." Daryl felt aggravated on Michonne's behalf. Michonne was loyal to the bone. She was strong – in body, mind and spirit.

Rick nodded, his eyes sombre. "Maybe, but I still need you to know, where I stand. I don't care if y'all are friends, I won't make no fuss regarding all that. I trust Michonne with everythang, and I know she values you. I don't care what y'all do—as long as it's compliant to the boundaries of friendship." Rick felt it important to point out the last bit.

"However, what I do care about is whether or not you plan on using that friendship to try to take her away from me. From our children." Rick tilted his head again, once again making sure Daryl was hearing him clearly. "I do care about that."

Daryl found himself feeling a little indignant at the suggestion. "You think I'd do that?"

Now Rick was looking at him, like he was being purposely stupid. "You see where we are?" Rick gestured between the two of them. "Yeah. I think you could do that."

Rick looked down, scratching at his eyebrow, he was tired, and he was done talking. He turned and started to make his way to their door, much like Michonne had earlier. When his hand touched the handle, Daryl spoke again.

"I'm not Shane, man."

Rick scoffed, but there was no real heat in it. "No. you're Daryl and that's what makes this so much worse."

"Where you goin'?" Daryl called out to him.

"To find the rest of my family." Was all there was to Rick's reply.

There was a long pause. "You really want me gone?"

Rick sighed. "Not tonight. Tonight, we're all—everyone still here—is camping out in Deanna's. None of these places are safe tonight. Too much is crumbling. But, when we start re-building … there's plenty room at Rosita's."

"I didn't mean for non' o' this to happen man."

Rick could hear the sincerity in his tone, but it did nothing to sooth the betrayal he felt.

"Yeahh, you never do. You never do."

A/N I hope you enjoyed this. Feel free to let me know what you think.

Thanks for reading.

Naomi x