Happy New Year, lovely readers! The Richonne Writing Network has a new treat for all of you.
At this point we all know every scene, every moment, every stare, with our favorite couple like the back of our hand. But what if they had met in a different way?
In our new Canon Rewrite series, we answer that question with a series of six one-shots that have Rick and Michonne meeting at different points along their ZA journey.
We really hope you enjoy these one-shots, because we know, no matter what, when, how, where, Rick and Michonne were meant to be.
Persuasion
written by: love devil movies baby
STORY SUMMARY: Finding good people is no easy feat at the end of the world. Convincing them to trust you is even harder. Michonne has her heart set on team family, but first she has to get Rick on her side.
A/N: I love Rick and Michonne's first meeting and I can't help but wonder how he'd let himself feel about her if Lori was long since gone? I'm betting he'd be even more sprung on the warrior woman. I hope you enjoy! - ldmb
EP 5X12 Remember - New Canon Meet #1
Her traveling companion sat beside her in the passenger seat, tense as a bowstring, his fingers drumming almost absently on his hatchet. In another life, the silence would have been uncomfortable. Michonne watched him from the corner of her eye as she navigated the borrowed car. He was tense, though he was doing a fair job at disguising it. She recognized the fear though, the uncertainty.
His group was just behind them, in the back of the RV. They were approaching the situation with far more enthusiasm. More than a few had been hiding smiles, peering eagerly out of the window as their makeshift caravan approached the destination.
"We're about five miles out," Michonne announced. She used a tone rarely taken since the world ended- her courtroom voice. It had cajoled witnesses, soothed juries, and won her more cases than she could count. This morning, it had earned her the tentative trust of this band of strangers. For now, it was enough.
She knew them long before they knew her. Michonne had watched them from afar for days now, trying to glean some knowledge about the strange, ragtag group picking their way through Virginia's backroads. It'd been months since she'd seen so many living together like this, and more months still since she'd witnessed anyone making their way to Washington DC. Whatever hope there had been in the government saving them was long since gone. The Capitol was silent as a giant marble tomb now, a graveyard left in monument to what this world used to be. Michonne stole out some nights to look upon it, needing to remember, needing to quiet her thoughts of that time, of her life, of the family she had lost. Perhaps it was masochism to torment herself so, but the thoughts of Mike, the thoughts of her son, Andre would not be silenced in any other way.
It was this restlessness that led her to volunteer for these missions, searching for survivors out here at the end of the world. She was certainly the most capable of Alexandria's residents. They'd been lucky enough to be behind high walls when this started. Few of them had lost anything or anyone at all. She envied them and despised them all at once for this sin, even as she sought to protect them.
This group now sequestered together in her beat up RV might prove to be of some use. They did not wander in fear, clinging to one another and crying, nor did they seem to be a group of criminals rampaging their way through the streets. They had been efficient on the road, quiet- as though the act of talking had become too much for them. They'd faced hardships, Michonne was sure. No one lasted this long out here without them. Even so, it was not this knowledge that endeared them to her.
They had a baby.
Michonne had seen her from a distant, the round-faced little cherub with dark blonde hair. The sight alone had knocked the air from her lungs, threatened to level her. For a moment, she feared her hallucinations had returned. But the babe was very much alive, bouncing between members of the group. Most often could be found strapped to the chest of the group's leader.
It was this leader, a man named Rick, who gave her pause. He was a wild-looking man, all mangy beard and long curly hair, his expression more often dour than not. He spoke seldom, but his words never went unheeded. The two children in the group, the baby and a young boy, belonged in some way to him. Whatever Rick was, he'd managed to protect his children from this hell. She wanted to know him, to ask him how.
Perhaps now she had her chance. She would need to be careful. He was skittish as a deer, fierce as a cornered animal. She could take him, of course, but delivering him to Alexandria injured defeated the whole point of this exercise.
"There's something you need?" Rick asked, his words a clipped southern accent. She'd been staring too hard.
Michonne turned her attention back to the road. DC loomed in the distance, its marble columns rising above the horizon. Rick was looking at them too, his expression unreadable.
"I came from DC, you know," she told him, "my family and I. We fled when this all started." She kept her voice conversational, though her stomach contracted into knots.
There was a beat of silence where Michonne wondered whether he would acknowledge her. Then he spoke. "They're at the community?" he asked gruffly.
"No," Michonne's eyes fell to her rearview mirror, gazing at the baby again. "It's just me there. There are a few other children. They're all safe behind the walls."
Rick's eyes moved to his daughter. Her brother was holding her in his lap, his eyes fixed on Michonne. The little girl was beginning to fuss, tired from the cold and the hunger and the constant movement.
"There's applesauce," Michonne offered. "In my bag. I'm sure you saw it." Her every belonging had been carefully searched and inspected while the decision to follow her was made. Michonne spent the better part of her morning tied up in an old barn with her now-passenger assuring her that he would kill her at the first sign of trouble. There was another pause as Rick's eyes narrowed towards her again. "I used to always have snacks in my bag before the turn," Michonne said. "They came in handy."
Rick nodded, glancing back at his son. The boy reached for the bag, fishing the treat out. He handed it to Rick. Rick inspected the jar. One-handed, he popped it open, fumbling for a spoon. He brandished the utensil at her. Compliantly, Michonne opened her mouth.
"Needs cinnamon," she swallowed the treat. "I'll have to keep my eyes open for some." She licked the remainder from her lips.
Rick quickly took a bite of it before turning to his daughter. She was crying in full force now. The applesauce had its intended effect almost immediately. She quieted, cooing happily.
"What's her name?" Michonne asked, smiling at the baby. Rick watched her again, clearly assessing.
"Judith." His answer was clipped. "Carl named her."
"Your son," Michonne turned her head towards the boy. Carl nodded by way of greeting. She smiled at him. "He looks like you. How old is he?"
"Probably around 12 now," Rick looked sad for a moment. He quickly disguised it again.
"You've done well, protecting them," Michonne nodded sagely.
"Couldn't protect them all," he mumbled. The silence spread again, thick and heavy. "You had a child?" he guessed.
"I did," she swallowed thickly, "a boyfriend too."
"How old?" he turned to her.
"Three. Applesauce was his favorite." she smiled despite herself, cursing the sudden show of emotion. It wasn't often she allowed herself to talk about Andre or Mike. But she'd be damned if that baby and that little boy suffered the same fate because their father was too proud or too frightened. Michonne pressed her advantage. "Some of us in the community, we've lost people. A few haven't. But no one's been lost once they've come inside the walls. Not one in months." She was a big part of this, her and a few others who could fight. In truth, she was burning out. She needed allies. All of Alexandria did.
Rick tilted his head at her. "And you want us there? A group of killers?"
"The church?" she guessed. She'd seen them that night; there was no point in pretending she hadn't. Rick nodded, waiting for an explanation. "I saw a group do what they had to. There was no joy in it. You do what it takes to survive out there. And you wouldn't be the only killers." Her mind raced to her katana, still in the RV.
Rick seemed to accept this, his face softening just a fraction. Carl watched attentively from the backseat, still feeding his sister. Rick continued his line of questioning. "And you like it there? Behind the walls?"
She laughed. Rick squinted at her in confusion. "We're safe there. We're fed. Some people are happy. It's enough." Michonne clarified.
"Would you go, if you were me?" he asked, fixing her with his cobalt gaze. It seemed a moot point while he was in her car, but she answered him nevertheless.
"I wish I'd gone earlier, when I still had someone to go for," Michonne looked at his children. She wished she could hold the baby close to her, stroke her hair. There was not a day she didn't miss the feel of Andre in her arms.
"Is that is?" Carl spoke for the first time, pointing to the gates in front of her.
"That's it," Michonne smiled at him again, enjoying the awe on his face as he took in the high walls.
Rick shifted in his seat to look at his children as they slowed before the fence, the RV behind them.
"Carl, go join the others," he instructed.
His son nodded, hopping out of the car with Judith as they rolled to a stop. The door shut behind them.
"Michonne," it was the first time he'd said her name. A chill ran through her at his inflection. She longed suddenly for her katana, her eyes darting to the hatchet in his lap.
"Rick," she removed her hands from the steering wheel, placing them in her lap.
He ground his teeth, glancing at Alexandria. Behind them, his community piled out of the RV, waiting expectantly.
"You're asking me to bring my family in there," Rick clipped out. "You're asking me to trust you."
"Rick, I'm trying to save you," Michonne sighed. She could not spend every moment trying to convince him of this.
"Why?" he stared at her hard, jaw tight.
"For those kids," Michonne looked out the window at them. "And because I need help."
"Help how?" His eyes flicked to his children and back to her face.
Michonne sighed again, debating just telling him the truth. "The people in there," she measured her words. "They've gotten lucky. But luck
doesn't last long out here. They need to learn how to survive, how to fight. I can't be the only fighter there."
"You'd ally yourself with us?" Rick asked.
"You have a family. Mine is gone," Michonne sniffled, covering her face with a hand. The wall she'd put up around herself began to crumble in front of this stranger. She felt deathly embarrassed as she pawed at her face, trying to get herself together.
She felt his hand before she even realized he'd moved. The calloused, hard surface covered her shoulder almost tentatively, as though intimacy was something he didn't know anymore either. Michonne started, her whole body tensing at the contact. Rick flinched as well but his hand remained.
"I'll do this," he said slowly. "For them," he turned his head toward Carl and Judith.
"Good," she swallowed, trying to calm herself. "I'll help protect them."
He nodded almost absently, his eyes on her again. "I'm sorry. About your family. Lost my wife too."
Michonne brought her hand up to touch his. "I'm sorry too." It was a weak sentiment in comparison to the pain of their losses, but Rick seemed to relish in it nonetheless.
He released her, his hand leaving a warm imprint. Without further ado, he opened the car door and stepped out. Michonne followed him.
Rick's eyes were closed, his face pointed towards the fence. From the other side, the sounds of Alexandria filled the air, voices chatting, children laughing. Michonne watched him, a warmth starting to blossom inside of her that she hadn't felt since her son died. It took her a moment to place the emotion, but realization came at once. It was hope.
"There's kids," Rick's eyes opened in surprise, something almost like delight on his face. It cut through the layers of dirt and hair, smoothing out his features until he looked nearly a decade younger. Michonne suddenly wondered what he looked like before the turn.
Michonne chuckled despite herself. "I told you there were," she smiled at him. "C'mon," she announced it to the group as a whole. "I'll introduce you."
"So I walk through there with you, and then what?" Rick turned to her. For the first time that day, he allowed his nervousness to show.
"How about I give you a haircut?" she suggested. "You're going to scare the hell out of the kids in there, wolfman."
There was a pause as her statement hung in the air for a moment. From behind them, Carl began to laugh. Rick turned to him, incredulous. Carl just shrugged.
"You do need to shave," he told his father with a smirk. Michonne winked at the young boy who's grin only widened. Rick turned back to her, the hint of a smile playing on the corner of his lips.
"Fair enough," he conceded. With a nod, he turned to his people. They looked on, relief and joy thinly veiled on their faces. "Lead the way," Rick told her, gesturing to the gate.
Michonne turned and did just that, leading the group into Alexandria.