Summary: Rick and Michonne's friendship has been built on trust, respect and love for his children, can the tragic events at the meeting set to decide Rick's fate derail the growth of something more developing. (Inspired by the song Conqueror by Estelle ft. Jussie Mollet and interview responses from Danai and Andrew.)

Chapter 1

Michonne thought about how she should have expected this as she stared into Pete's vacant stare, her eyes fell to the gleaming katana at his side and the fresh blood dripping off it. She shook her head in dismay, she could not have guessed that a walker would choose today of all days, to make its way into the safe zone. She could not have predicted that Pete would walk into her house and steal her katana but the one variable in this equation, one that she could have predicted the actions of, was Rick. He was once again in the middle of another shitty situation. She switched her gaze from the dangerous weapon on the ground, to the equally dangerous man standing next to it. Rick's gun was still pointed at the corpse at his feet. He looked absolutely wild, blood dripping from his face, hands and clothes, walker remains still in his hair. An unforgiving and focused glint in his cold blue eyes.

Michonne's emotions alternated between feeling frustrated and being relieved. Rick was safe from being exiled. Ironically, he had Pete to thank for that. Michonne wondered if Jessie would thank Rick for freeing her, however, she chose not to pursue that train of thought. It might have been unfair to blame the victim but some of the subsequent drama had begun at her doorstep. Admittedly, it had more to do with Rick chasing after a married woman or his recent inability to deal with things in a more, rational manner. It might also have had something to do with his partner in crime. Michonne side-eyed Carol (who seemed quite pleased with herself) in annoyance.

As if things weren't already awkward and uncomfortable; Aaron, Darryl and a new recruit- a man that Michonne was certain she had seen before- had shown up at the entrance to the courtyard, to be greeted with Rick emptying a bullet into Pete's head. She didn't blame them for looking so bewildered. She began to wonder though, at how long they were all going to stand in the cold air of the night, waiting for someone to give direction on what to do, to lead. Her eyes and feet instinctively sought out Rick.

Rick looked at Morgan's sudden appearance in apparent disbelief. To show up in Alexandria right at that very moment with him standing over a dead body, and another one in the arms of a very distraught, weeping woman. He admitted to himself that it looked pretty bad but he felt validated in his role, in this fucked up situation. He had warned them right from the beginning, even when Deanna had interviewed him. There was always going to be someone out there, ready to take what you owned if you proved weak to defend it. These people were weak and he had had to kill one of them to make a point and to keep them safe. To keep his family safe!

He was taken aback when Michonne appeared in his line of vision, blocking his view of Darryl and company. Rick cocked his head to the side, as if to ask what she needed. She looked at the gun in his hand, and just like he had offered it to a few hours ago, he offered it to her again in the same manner. This time, she accepted the weapon, her fingers lingering briefly on his before she took the gun from him. Michonne was startled when he held onto her other hand tightly and didn't let go. She looked up at him questioningly but he was already facing the crowd. She wondered if this was Rick's way of presenting a united front.

Michonne withheld heavy sigh of exasperation, wishing she could just go home and rest. She tried to think of what could be said to alleviate their fears but looking at the crowd, their faces communicated fear and confusion. She observed that some were even crying. She came to the conclusion that whatever was said, would not solve anything, at least, not tonight. She surprised herself when words started pouring forth from her own lips. "I think its best we all make our way home and try to get some rest", she said in a firm voice that brooked no arguments. "And allow the families that have been affected by today's tragedies to mourn in private".

Of course no one moved, she looked on dispassionately as they all stood staring at her uncomprehendingly. She resisted the urge to curse when she noticed a few of them casting furtive glances at her hand where it was clasped inside Rick's hand. It did not escape her notice that one person in particular looked incredibly unhappy about that. In her peripheral vision, she noticed Rick taking menacing step towards the crowd, his head tilted away from her view so she couldn't see the expression he wore.

"Move. Now!" he commanded.

It was like a mass exodus as they all filed out of the courtyard obediently, granted there were sounds of grumbling and discontent as they all shuffled past, and out the exit where Darryl and his companions were still waiting.

He watched them all leave absentmindedly, his mind preoccupied with his decision to hold Michonne's hand. The touch of her fingers as she took the gun had provided an unexpected amount of comfort, so before she had the chance move away, he had scrambled to hold her hand, hoping to draw strength and comfort. Michonne pulled her hand out from his as the last of the crowd left. She did not say anything to him nor did she make any eye contact as she walked away. He tried to ignore the empty feeling that invaded him when she had pulled away, in fact, pushed it to the depths of his mind until he had a chance to properly explore it.

The only people left in the courtyard included Deanna who was still on the ground, cradling her dead husband. He watched Michonne for a few seconds as she crouched near Deanna, she spoke words that were inaudible to him but that made Deanna sit up and wipe away the tears on her face. Rick turned away from the sight. He also avoided making eye contact with Jessie who was now making her way towards her husband. He quickly stepped away from where he stood next to Pete's body. He caught the look of devastation on her face before he turned away from her. He sighed, aggravated at the thought of that messy situation. He walked toward Darryl and company where they now stood inside the courtyard. Morgan stepped forward, his expression guarded as he proffered his clean hand to shake Rick's bloody one.

Michonne stood near the fireplace, considering if she should hang the sword back on its mantle from where it had stolen. She heard the heavy tread of his footfalls on the steps as he came down to the living room. She contemplated whether having a conversation about everything that had happened was necessary at such a late hour. She was tired and she didn't want to risk getting into an argument with him. She reluctantly turned to look at him when he came to stand beside her, his body also turned towards the fireplace. He didn't look agitated so she safely assumed Carl and Judith had been left untouched by the tragic sequence of events that had taken place.

He seemed to know what she was thinking though, "they are fine, it seems he just took your sword and headed for the courtyard".

Michonne nodded, feeling relieved, she couldn't bear the thought that the katana could have been wielded to hurt the people she cared for, again. It made her think of the domino effect that had took effect as a result of Rick's paranoia and mistrust. She leaned forward and put the sword back on its mantle, a test of sorts to assess how she felt about leaving it up there again. She looked back at Rick to see his reaction but she couldn't glean anything from it. He seemed to be deep in thought and it made her curious to know his state of mind. She hesitated but couldn't restrain herself from asking anymore.

"When I came to your room earlier, and we talked, I said to you not to make something happen. Is that what you did tonight?" she asked, suspicion evident in her voice. She refused to retract her statement when he swivelled to face her, a wounded look playing across his face. When Rick continued staring at her in silence, she let out a frustrated sigh and turned away from him to look back at the katana. She knew she was fooling herself by keeping up the pretence that it could really stay up there, after...

"I assumed that we were in agreement…" She stopped talking when she felt Rick's touch on her arm. She faced him and almost took a step back at the hardened expression on his face.

"If you don't change you die, and if you don't adapt you die. This is the world we live in now Michonne, you know this. Especially after what has happened since the prison- with the Governor, and at Terminus". He turned his back and walked away towards the couch where he sat, his legs spread before him and his head resting against the head rest. His eyelids took on a hooded quality as he kept his gaze on her.

"I heard what you said to me, Michonne, all of it", he stressed, his voice deepened as he added, "and I'm more than grateful for your trust in me, believe me when I say it's not misplaced".

"Isn't it? I'm still with you Rick" she said emphatically. She had felt that she was partly to blame, how could she have been blinded to the scheming that was going on around her. "But that doesn't mean I'll follow you blindly".

Rick's eyes widened at her words, he averted his eyes, unable to hold her gaze and what he thought he saw in it. Dread filled him at the implications behind her declaration. He sat up, and moved to the edge of the couch, his gaze remained fixated on the carpet at his feet. "You have to know there was only one way that could have played out, when Pete killed Reg. Deanna made the decision", he added weakly.

"What else did you expect from a grieving woman whom in the space of only 48 hours had lost not only her son, but a husband as well? We were lucky that Pete did what he did, but you gotta start making better choices, especially now. These people are now looking to you".

He highly doubted that, but they had to follow his leadership now. Noah. Tara. The walker that had got in, Pete's actions- they had all culminated up to this point. There was no other way they could continue living in their alternate reality. He felt Michonne approaching him, she placed a hand on his shoulder making him look up at her. He felt his heart skip a beat.

"They do need you, Rick", she insisted. "They need a leader who is not going to hesitate to make the hard decisions, someone who has survived, that's why Aaron picked us. Someone who knows what's out there".

He nodded, his hand covered hers. "You keep on saying they, what about you?"

She removed her hand from where it rested on his shoulder and took a step back. The question had an unexpected effect as it finally dawned on her why she felt had so conflicted since the moment Rick had finally revealed what his manic, gun waving rant on the street in broad daylight had been about. She finally admitted to herself as she swallowed a hard lump that had suddenly lodged in her throat. She felt betrayed, hurt and left out. She had thought her relationship with Rick had evolved.

She couldn't look at him. Her eyes drifted, and she turned back towards the mantle and tried to focus on something else. Her gut told her that her actions or lack thereof, had also been misguided. In her desire to start living, she had forgotten. Forgotten that to live, she had to survive. They had to survive. Andre, Andrea, Mike, Hershel- all of the people they had lost- she could not bear to lose any more people. Back at the church, Abraham had been wrong, it was because they were survivors that they got to live to make new memories. Her movements where controlled and calm when she reached up to take down her sword and slid it back in its sheath and over her shoulder.

She prepared to bid Rick a goodnight, feeling exhausted and ready to retire but paused in surprise when he suddenly appeared in front of her, blocking her path. Rick touched her again. He wrapped his hand around her bicep and stepped into her personal space. She looked at him, unable to hide her surprise. They were standing closer to each other then, than they had ever been before.

His eyes bored into hers. "You are one of the most important people to me, Michonne, and the thought of losing your trust, it…" He couldn't finish the thought, the mere idea that he could lose her trust caused him some anxiety. He pushed back the hair that had escaped her head band, behind her ear, and let his fingers linger on her cheek. "I am going to need your help in getting these people ready, especially after what Darryl and Morgan told us. That means the katana is where it should be", he said touching the strap on her shoulder. "It does not mean we don't get to live. I understand if you have you lost some of you faith in me, not telling you about the guns, the thing with Jessie and Pete…I thought I was protecting you. I was protecting our friends and family."

She nodded, once, and then again but remained silent caught between wanting to believe him and understanding him. She eventually settled for something in between, she would judge him on how he would proceed. Her lips trembled as she tried smile at him, holding his earnest gaze. That's when it happened. His eyes dropped quickly to her lips and back to her eyes. They simultaneously took a step back from each other as if shocked at the realisation of their close proximity to one another. They both looked as if they had been electrocuted as thoughts quickly filtered in and out of their minds at the possibility of what he had been thinking or why she could not tamp down the feeling of anticipation that had coursed through her. They bid each other a goodnight, both of them unwilling to look closely at what had just happened.