I Missed You
The sun had long set. Twilight had passed. Full blown night blanketed the outside. The quarter moon could be seen from the front window, but it didn't offer much light. Candles adorned the mantle, dining table, and kitchen counters. Michonne's head made a cozy hollow in the back couch cushion. Her legs stretched out on the coffee table, the trusty black boots she'd worn two days straight were long abandoned either next to the front door or upstairs. She couldn't remember which. Her hands rested comfortably on her stomach as it rose and fell with her each breath. She was grateful that the sounds of eggs sizzling in the frying pan and Rick's movements around the kitchen kept her awake.
She couldn't remember ever being so exhausted. Not on the many searches for the Governor. Not while walking to Terminus after the prison fell. Not even when they trekked through Virginia after their cars ran out of gas on the way to D.C. Only two things were keeping her from crawling onto the semi-comfortable pallet in their bedroom: hunger and the fact she wanted to spend some time with Rick. Just the two of them.
She heard the scrape of the large kitchen knife slice across the wooden cutting board. Though her body protested, she left her comfortable corner on the couch to help with whatever Rick was conjuring up in the kitchen. He was at the island cutting two, large tomatoes into fourths. Her heart fluttered as she watched him concentrate on the task. His shirt was untucked, hair a little wild, a hint of tongue poked out between his lips, feet bare - his boots were probably somewhere next to hers. His shoulders were less slumped. The grief is his eyes less haunting. There was still many a hard roads ahead for them, but he was starting to look like her Rick again. The man who would fight every monster in the world to protect their family. She resisted the urge to wrap her arms around his waist and bury her face in his back. Instead she took two of the fancy plates that came with the house out of the cabinet closest to the refrigerator. The gold pattern around the edges reminded her of the dinnerware her grandmother used every Thanksgiving.
"I told you I had it. You don't have to help." Rick squinted his eyes at her over his shoulder as he wiped his hands with a dish towel. "You should be resting."
She shrugged. "I know, but you're just tired as I am. I didn't feel right sitting there like I'm Queen of Alexandria while you did all of the work."
He took the plates from her before letting his lips linger on her cheek in a kiss. "I have news for you, baby," he whispered in her ear. "You are the Queen of Alexandria."
She laughed and shook her head. "Hush." He placed the eggs and tomatoes on the plates. "Looks good," she said.
"It's a strange combination, but it's what we had. Hope it tastes as good."
She trailed her fingers down his arm and kissed his shoulder. "I'm sure it will." He was no great chef, but she was touched by the effort he put in to make sure she had a good late night meal.
They settled at the dining table. The atmosphere took on a romantic feel with the candle light. Only thing missing was soft music playing.
He poured her a glass of water as she attacked her eggs. "It's quiet upstairs. Carl must have finally gone to bed," she said.
That afternoon Michonne had entered Alexandria with nerves prickling all over her skin. She'd rehearsed the whole way home what she would say to Rick to convince him they had to fight. Her nerves increased ten-fold when she walked into the chaos Negan left in his wake: further traumatized citizens and her teenage boy looking like a scared kid for the first time since they left Georgia. She thought Rick would be even less inclined to fight, but he was ready. He knew the cost of serving Negan was too much of a gamble. Those tears that fell from her eyes were joy, relief, and love. A love so deep it sometimes felt it would consume her whole. The disconnect between them had been another weight on her chest on top of the grief and anger. She could breathe better now knowing when the two of them worked together anything could be accomplished. They'd walked back to their home hand-in-hand with plans already formulating.
Earlier that night, with only a handful of stars visible in the sky, the muffled voices on the other side of the wall connected to Judith's room had an almost comforting cadence to Michonne as she rocked the baby girl to sleep. The father lecturing the son. The son trying to plead his case. Both understanding and rejecting what the other said. She had her own talk with Carl, and would probably have many more about what he did, but she knew her boys needed to work out their problems alone. No need for her to interfere at that moment. Their talk lasted for well over an hour. Judith was long sleep and Michonne had etched her space on the couch by the time Rick came downstairs.
Rick shook his head as he bit into his eggs. "I don't know what I'm going to do with him."
She sipped from her glass of water then wiped her mouth. "He's grieving, Rick. He's scared and naive and brave and has a heart so pure he can't stand to see the people he loves in pain. He wanted to avenge Glenn and Abe's deaths for Maggie. For Sasha. For all of us. He loves big. What he did was reckless, and I think he understands that now."
Rick stopped eating and stared at Michonne. "You really think so? He said he learned his lesson, but I can't be sure."
"Negan made all the trauma of getting shot and losing his eye come to the surface." Michonne closed her own eyes. When Carl told her how he cried when Negan made him take off the eye patch it took everything in her not to march down to the Sanctuary and put her katana straight through his heart. "He knows now that going on a wild killing spree isn't the answer. It'll take finesse and a lot more people to bring Negan down."
He shook his head. "I hope so, but the kid is so damn stubborn. I don't want him going rogue every time he disagrees with me."
"Well, I'm not saying he won't ever do anything again that'll give us premature gray hair. I mean he is his father's child after all." She winked at him.
Rick's fork clinked against the plate as he lowered it and tilted his head to the side. He studied Michonne, as she looked back at him with a grin, before speaking. "I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not."
She smirked at him. "I'll let you figure that out."
He ducked his head down as he laughed and scratched at his eyebrow.
Michonne's smile faded as her lips set in a grim line. "He realizes Negan could have killed him at any time. He gets it now." Michonne felt a fresh set of tears start to pool at the thought of losing another child she loved.
Rick took his napkin and wiped at the corner of her eyes. "But he didn't. He's still here. We're still here."
Michonne kissed the palm of his hand. "Yes, we are." She gestured to his plate. "You all done?" She stood once he nodded, stacked his plate on top of hers and walked into the kitchen. The dishwasher took too much power to run so she sat the dishes in the sink. Washing could wait until morning.
Rick checked to make sure the front door was locked and secured. The stain of Spencer's blood could still be seen on the street in front of their house. He looked down and sighed before turning to watch Michonne as she blew out the candles in the kitchen.
She waited for him next to the stairs with a tired smile as she held herself sturdy against the banister. The exhaustion radiated off her. He wished he could whisk her away to some exotic location where they could lay on the beach as he kissed her pain and grief away. But they lived in a different reality so he settled for wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug. Both let out sighs as her body molded perfectly against his as if she was the missing piece of the puzzle to his soul. He reluctantly pulled away after a short while. There was something that needed to be said.
Their hands swung between them as he held on to hers. "Michonne umm...it's no secret me and Spencer were never friends, but I know you were very fond of him. I'm sorry about what happened."
Michonne glanced out of the window at the blood stains on the street. She nodded. "I was fond of him. I felt I needed to be there for him to honor Deanna's memory. I never want to see anyone in our community die. I grieve for everyone we've lost." She pulled her shoulders back and looked Rick directly in the eye in pure warrior's defiance. "But he tried to make a deal with Negan to kill you. He doesn't deserve my grief."
Rick couldn't help the admiring smile that pulled at his lips. He squeezed her hand and kissed each knuckle. "I'm glad you're on my side."
"No place else I'd rather be," she said softly. "I don't take too kindly to people trying to get my man killed." She tugged her his hand. "Come on, let's go to bed." With their fingers still interlocked she lead the way to their bedroom, but paused at the top of the stairs. "We should bury him out in the clearing, next to his mother. She would want that."
Rick nodded. "Yeah. We can dig a grave for him before we leave tomorrow."
Rick knelt on the floor and adjusted the baby monitor. Judith was still sound asleep. He unbuttoned his shirt as he listened to the sound of Michonne's electric toothbrush above the gush of the water flowing from the faucet. He sighed in contentment at hearing the familiar sounds. Things were still heavy and probably wouldn't be back to normal - whatever normal was to them - for a long time, but he had a sense of joy at being back on the same page with his love.
He took off his shirt and threw it in the corner before walking into the bathroom and straight to the shower. He turned on the hot water then closed the shower door. It always took a few minutes for the broiler to warm the water. He crossed his arms over his bare chest and watched Michonne's reflection through the mirror as she rinsed her mouth a few times before gargling with the only bottle of Listerine in all of Alexandria. She patted her mouth dry with a washcloth and met Rick's admiring gaze in the mirror.
She tilted her head to the side - a habit she'd picked up from him. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
He shrugged with a crooked smile. "I like watching you do your nightly routine. Seems like it's been forever since the last time."
She nodded. It had been less than a week since the nightmare of Negan began, but it felt like a lifetime. "Yeah, it does." She lifted her hands to release her locs from the headband, but Rick walked up behind her to halt her movements. She let her hands fall to her sides as he pulled the fabric off. He brushed her locs over one shoulder then bent down to kiss the opposite one.
She reached her arm back to take a handful of his soft curls. He moaned at the feel of her hands in his hair. Her head laid in the crook of his neck while her eyes remained open just enough to watch how they stood intertwined through the mirror. A sound between a moan and a sigh escaped her lips when he cupped her breasts through her tank top and squeezed.
With his hands on her hips, he maneuvered her body around to face him before pulling off her shirt. His lips immediately found her shoulder again. Then her neck, her ear. His hands caressed the smooth lines of her back and then found way to grab her ass.
Michonne exhaled and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I missed you," she whispered.
He kissed her temple, her cheek, her chest. "Felt like I couldn't breathe these last few days without you," he said between kisses. He unbuttoned her jeans and pulled down the zipper. His hands massaged her ribcage before going lower, below her bellybutton. He brushed against the silk of her panties as he slid her tight jeans down her lean legs. He fell to his knees to help her step out of the rough denim.
He kissed her calf, the back of the knee, both thighs, her stomach. Michonne leaned against the counter, her breaths coming faster. Her hold on his hair was tight as he inhaled the scent of her arousal then kissed the wetness between her legs through her panties. He raised back to his full height. She followed his lead by unbuttoning his jeans as he worked to unhook her bra. He let the thin lace fall to the floor. His lips were immediately on her breasts. He sucked on the nipple of one while his fingers gently rolled the other. The grip of her fingernails was so strong, ten half-moon indents were carved on the back of his shoulders.
The cool air coming in from their bedroom mixed with the heat from the warmed up shower and Rick's incredible knowledge of how to make her body sing had her feeling intoxicated. She pushed him away slightly to catch her breath. Steam filled the bathroom making it feel as if they were surrounded by fog. He watched as she slid her panties off and stood before him completely naked. Seeing her in all her glory never failed to take his breath away.
She opened the shower door and stepped inside. Rick wasted no time ridding himself of his jeans and boxers in order to join her. The steam was even heavier inside the stall. He pulled her naked, wet body against his. His own arousal was apparent as his hands roamed over every inch of her body, wanting to feel every part of her. He had to make sure she was real and he wasn't trapped inside a dream as he waited for that bat to kill another member of his family. Their lips touched softly at first. With one kiss followed by two, three, and four more. His tongue slipped inside her mouth first and the intensity shook him to his core. Their tongues danced together under the heat of the water as the kiss held all the pain and love and joy inside them. He felt safe with her in that shower. It was as if time stood still and they were the only two people in the world.
He broke the kiss first and whispered while looking into her eyes. "I was so scared when you didn't come home. Then I found your hair on that walker." He shook his head. "I'd given up hope. I tried to stay strong for everyone else, but I couldn't. You're the one that keeps me strong, and I thought I'd lost you forever."
His curls were now wet and slicked back on his head, but that didn't stop Michonne from running her fingers through his hair. "I was scared too. I didn't know what was going on and then they pulled us out of that van. I saw you, Carl, and everyone." She moved her hands to his face as she caressed his wet beard. "When he took you away in the RV I think I held my breath until you returned. I thought he was going to kill you." They couldn't discern the tears that ran down their cheeks from the water pouring over them from above.
"But he didn't," Rick said.
"No, he didn't. We're still here."
"Don't ever not come home again."
She smiled through her tears. "I'll always come back to you, Rick."
They kissed her again – hard, urgent, and so deep he lifted her off her feet. When they pulled away to catch their breaths, his hands seized her hips and spun her around so her back was pressed against his chest. He grabbed the lavender scented body wash and squeezed a quarter sized portion on a washcloth. Pure adoration and desire colored his eyes as he worshiped her body, trying to wipe away all her pain. He started with her breasts and worked his way down making sure every part of her was given ample attention, pausing only to capture her lips in lazy kisses or to leave tiny bites on her neck or shoulder. White suds covered her down to her feet. As the water washed the soap from her body she turned and took the washcloth from his hands. She glided the cloth over his flat stomach in reverence. Her hands lingered over his defined arms and sculpted pecs as he closed his eyes and held his head back to revel in her touch.
She bent down to her knees as she ran the washcloth down his legs while kissing the muscles of his strong inner thighs. Her plump lips teased him by sucking gently on the head of his penis then sliding the whole shaft down her throat and back out again. Both his breath and his hardness became so intense he thought he would explode at any moment. When Michonne stood again, he pushed her against the shower wall and lifted her left leg. She didn't hesitate to wrap it around his waist as she stood on the tips of the toes of her right leg. Her hands gripped the towel rod as he slowly entered her while sucking on the base of her neck. Their moans could be heard over the roar of the water as rocked into her over and over again.
Michonne laid on her stomach - naked, relaxed, sated. Rick propped himself up on his elbow next to her. His hand roamed down her back, over the curve of her backside, and back up again. The pallet wasn't nearly as soft or inviting as their bed used to be, but they both felt as if they were laying in a royal palace. They had each other and that's all that mattered.
"I don't want to speak hyperbole, but I do believe that was the best shower I've ever had," she said.
Rick chuckled. "Not hyperbole at all. I'm right there with you."
She turned her head so she could see the clock. "It's late. I told everyone we'd leave for Hilltop first thing in the morning."
"Mmmhmm," he said before he bent down to kiss the small of her back.
Michonne's body jerked as she felt her nether regions begin to respond. "If you keep doing that we'll be up all night."
He gave her ass a light smack. "That wouldn't be a bad thing."
Michonne turned to her side and used her index finger to tap Rick's grinning lips. "Down boy."
He kissed her finger and laid his head next to hers. "Yes, dear."
She laughed as their legs intertwined. Her head laid on his chest as he took her into his arms. "I had time to do some thinking when I was on my mission," she said.
"What'd you think about?" He twirled one of her locs around his finger.
"A lot of things. How hungry I was." He chuckled softly. "If I was really going to find what I was looking for. Hoping you and Aaron were safe. Tara."
"Tara?"
"I thought about how she was out there doing what she could to help the community and didn't know the woman she loved was dead. I thought about how Sasha would never know the extent of how deep her and Abraham's love could grow. I thought about Maggie losing the love of her life while carrying their child. I thought about how I was so angry, but I still had the love of my life and I wanted nothing more than to have him by his side."
Rick stop his ministrations and stared down at her. "How do you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Make me feel...," he shook his head in awe trying to find the right words, "...make me feel like I'm worthy of your love, trust, loyalty."
She lifted herself on her elbow so she could see his face clearly. "Don't you know how wonderful you are?"
He looked down, embarrassed by her praise. He shrugged. "I wouldn't say I'm wonderful."
She cupped one of his cheeks with her hand. "Your problem is you ingest all the bad you think you are, savoring it. Running it through your mind over and over, but you never take the time to appreciate all of the good you do. All the good you are. You're the best man I've ever known."
He shook his head. "I don't deserve you."
"Of course you do. You deserve the world, Rick. Through our anger and grief you kept us all together. You took the brunt of Negan's torture for the off chance he would leave the rest of us alone. There's no better man out there. No other man I could ever love nearly as much as I love you. It's just not possible."
His eyes became glassy as he nodded his head and bit his lips. Her words always had a physical affect on him. She made his soul rejoice from the power of her love. He pressed his lips against hers. "I love you. I don't have the eloquence to fully express how much. Just know you're my world. I can't do this life without you."
She snuggled back into his arms. "You won't ever have to. It'll be me and you always."
