Authors Note: This is something that's been swirling around in my mind for some time now. I wanted to get this out before this Sunday's TWD mid season premiere episode. It's long for a one shot but I hope you all enjoy it.
The Family That Slays Together
"You'd better not let Mama Bear see that…"
It had been four months since they arrived at the gates of Alexandria's Safe Zone. It was beautiful. Four months ago she stood inside of the dilapidated and dank barn and convinced him that they needed 'this.' They needed to take this chance for a real life; a life that didn't include starvation on a road leading nowhere. Four months since they took the leap; a leap that all of their fellow road travelers took with them. Four months since they slept in the house that would eventually become hers, his, the kids and Daryl's home.
It had been three months since a herd of the undead nearly destroyed the home that they had slowly claimed as their own. Three months since the soulless individuals with W's carved on their faces entered the town and began to slaughter the residents; no actual reason, or even malice, they were just simply soulless. Three months since the carnage led to a new understanding between Rick's group and the remaining residents of Alexandria. There was a true understanding of what was needed to protect the town. Three months of training the remaining residents; everyone who was not a child learned to step up. The rule of no weapons behind the wall of the safe zone ended.
It had been two months since the walls had been repaired. The bodies burned. Schedules for supply runs solidified by Rick. It was not an easy task. Rick and his group worked with those who were eager to learn, as well as working with the naysayers. The debates with Deana led to a deeper understanding of what her dream for Alexandria was, and had always been. It had been two months since Rick gave up fighting with the town's leader and began to work with her.
It had been one month since they were no longer just Rick and his group - one month since they knew they were all more than people who survived together. They were far more than travel companions. Surviving, fighting, crying and finally…rebounding…created a tremendous shift. They were changed. It had been one month since they realized that they were a family.
T*F*T*S*T
Abe, Rosita, and Sasha saw Rick walking hurriedly away from the house that was being used as the town's school building with a scowl on his face and Carl in tow. Rick's stride and Carl's hurried stroll with slouched shoulders and his hand nestled on the right side of his face let them know that something was amiss. Abe whistled over to one of the guys on the construction crew to watch the gate. He ran to catch up with Sasha and Rosita; they were already running to close the gap between them and Rick. As Rick passed the grassy knoll that sat in the middle of town, Morgan witnessed Rick and Carl. No more than thirty feet behind the two Grimes men, walking at a quickened pace, were Sasha and Rosita. Abe was doing a slow jog and bringing up the rear. Morgan called over to Brigitte, one of Alexandria's original residents and his prized pupil, to take over the martial arts training course that he was conducting. He too began a slow jog towards the others. He was the last to enter the Grimes residence. The conversation was already underway.
"…I'll get some ice," Carol said while walking towards the kitchen. She and Daryl were sitting in the living room chatting when Rick burst through the front door. Daryl jumped up prepared to face down whoever their current nemesis was. He had been feeling like they were all getting too comfortable and a huge part of him was patiently, or not so patiently, waiting for the other shoe to drop. The other shoe always dropped. He and Carol were in agreement that they could not become complacent and comfortable. So he waited. He kept his eyes focused, his ears open, and waited. This was, however, not the battle he was anticipating.
"What's going on?" Morgan inquired as he looked at the upset faces of the others.
"We don't know yet. We're trying to find out," Rosita answered. They all looked at Rick, and then at Carl. The younger Grimes had a quarter sized red mark by his right eye and a small cut on his bottom lip. The mark by his eye would be a darkened purple within the next couple of hours and his lip would become temporarily swollen even sooner.
"There was an incident at the school. I don't have all the details yet," Rick began to explain. Before he could continue Glenn, Maggie and Tara came barreling through the door…
"What's going on?" Glenn inquired of no one in particular, "Sarah ran over to our house and said that something happened at the school and Rick had taken Carl home."
Maggie walked over to Carl while Glenn was explaining their reason for concern and lifted Carl's chin.
"What happened?" Maggie asked, looking in his eyes. He stared back into her concerned emerald eyes but didn't respond.
The world became overrun with the undead nearly three years ago. Maggie met Rick and his family on her family's farm not long after civilization as they knew it had ended. She had witnessed Carl grow from a stubborn little boy with an attitude to a young man a true sense of integrity. The trauma of his mother's death and the birth of his sister had changed him. Maggie bore witness to his transformation. He stopped being a child. His innocence was gone.
"Carl," she stated with more fervor. Carl shook his head and chose not to answer.
His childhood innocence had been stripped away. You can't be a child in a world where tyrants reign and the dead walk. Then…She entered his life. She made him laugh. She let him talk. She listened. She shared. Then they arrived at Alexandria's gates.
"Carl," Carol walked back into the room and placed the icepack against his lip. She gently touched his face, he winced and let out a quiet 'ouch.'
In Alexandria he had slowly reclaimed a new world kind of childhood.
"What happened?" She stood next to Maggie, echoing her friend's question, as they peered down at the young man. Carl shook his head and reached up to take the ice pack that Carol was currently pressing against his lip. He moved his arm slowly. There was the slightest bit of pain on his face as he took hold of the icepack. Carol moved her hand from his face and touched his arm. He winced again.
"What's wrong with your arm, Carl?" Carol asked in her most calm tone. It was a tone that both scared and amused them all.
Carol had seen the younger Grimes display every emotion from anger to fear. But, the look on his face, in his eyes, was something that she hadn't seen before. He was deflated.
"Um, Mr. Burke grabbed my arm." He admitted, shifting his eyes away from hers. There was a quiet gasp from someone in the medium sized living room. The ramifications of Carl's simple admission would be far reaching. The calm that they had all enjoyed over the past month was crumbling before their eyes. His simple admission could put an end to their current circumstance and put them back in the homeless situation of which they had lived up until four months earlier. The simply stated words were, in fact, not so simple.
No one spoke. In the old world, the first question that everyone in the room would've asked was, why? Why would your teacher grab your arm? But this wasn't the old world. The why didn't matter. The why would especially not matter to her.
"Um, where's Michonne?" Tara asked, breaking the silence that had befallen. She was still standing by the door and realized that one very important person was missing from the meeting.
Carol looked at Tara, but directed her answer to Rick, "she's upstairs with Judith." Rick ran his hand over his face and shook his head.
He would never look at her that way. Never treat her like some sexual object. He would not objectify her. She was so much more than that. She was his friend. She was his co-parent. His co-leader. As such, he would never go there with her. Never ruin the relationship that they had. She deserved respect, not some type of sexual adulation.
He began to feel guilty. Somewhere along the way his thoughts began to shift. There was something. Her smile, laugh, casual banter with others, her walk.
The immediate threats had significantly dissipated. The barrier of continual strife that had blocked his view of her was gone. The normality of life had taken hold. There she was. It started slow. His friend, housemate, fellow survivor and co-parent was a woman. They laughed together, joked around, called each other on their bullshit- and she was a woman. They had each other's back in every way - and she was a beautiful woman. It started slow but picked up speed. It was a runaway train with no conductor. Every touch, smile, laugh, now had a different meaning. I think I'm in love with her. God. Have I ever fallen in love before? Lori and I liked each other and then we loved each other, and then we were married. This is different. God I ache for her. Could it just be the lack of intimacy? The lack of sex? Was it just lust? It would make sense. People confuse lust for love all the time. His respect for her was too high to take that chance. His brain had been a ball of mass confusion for the past few weeks.
There was, however, no confusion when it came to her and Carl. Her love for him and the young man's love for her was without question. They'd go to the ends of the earth for each other. Everyone standing in the Grimes modest living room knew – she'd kill anyone who hurt or attempted to hurt him.
"You'd better not let Mama Bear see," Abe said what they were all thinking. They could question Carl and get to the bottom of everything, but they would need to first make sure that Michonne didn't see Carl's battle scars.
One of the agreements that Rick and Deanna came to was that murder within the walls of Alexandria would be dealt with swiftly. It was a 'No Tolerance Policy' that everyone agreed to. The perpetrator of such a crime would be exiled from Alexandria. The only exception was if the death occurred while attempting to protect their home from an outside threat. Community member disagreements and arguments did not fall within the exception.
"Yeah. Abe's right. Carl, go to your room. We can talk about this in a little bit," Rick told his son. Carl nodded.
"Okay little missy. I'm glad you had such a good nap. We're gonna have some lunch, then we can go for a little walk before it's time to get your brother from school." Michonne's carefree voice wafted down the stairs, followed by giggles from both she and Judith. "And don't think you're taking over my bed again tonight little lady." More giggles followed, though her voice was closer. She was coming down the stairs.
"Go to the kitchen Carl," Maggie whispered and gave Carl a slight shove towards the destination. Carl walked quickly.
"You are a wild little…" Michonne stopped mid sentence, and mid flight when she saw her entire family in the room - it looked incredibly small with everyone standing in it. She saw Carl's back as he walked towards the kitchen, and then slowly glanced around the room at everyone's face. Something was wrong. Carol was the only one who managed to smile, which was actually scarier than the worried expressions all the other wore.
"What's wrong?" She asked as Judith twirled her locs still giggling. She continued down the stairs, "What happened?" She asked the question of no one in particular. No one spoke.
"What!?" Her voice raised as her calm had quickly gone and left fear in its wake. Judith stilled her movements. The change in Michonne's temperament and the raised volume of the one word caused the little girl to begin to whine.
"It's okay sweetie…" Michonne began to bounce Judith on her hip, not taking her eyes off of the adults in the room.
"Uh, it's really okay," Glenn spoke first, "there was a little, um, just a little incident at the school, but…"
"Carl!" Michonne stopped Glenn and shouted towards the kitchen, "Carl, come here!"
"Michonne," Carol smiled, "let's talk first." She used her syrupy sweet tone and walked closer to her warrior friend. Michonne ignored the request. She handed Judith to Carol and walked towards the kitchen. Carl strolled towards her holding the ice pack next to his eye.
"What happened? What did…did someone hit you?" She stood directly in front of him and leaned down to peruse the damage. She felt instantly overcome.
It took both Rick and Michonne days to convince Carl to go to school. His very valid point was, "what's the point?" It wasn't actually original or a valid point, but in a world where there were no more colleges, food was scarce, and the dead roamed the earth – his point was somewhat valid. Even with that being the case, the pair were able to make him see that their goal was for a real life and a functioning society. "Every functioning society requires people with knowledge."
Michonne also explained to him that he needed to spend time with people his own age. He hadn't spent time around non-adults since the prison fell. There were no parties or coming of age ceremonies to mark the beginning of his teenage years. Going to school was his opportunity to gain some semblance of normality – such as it was. "Smart, creative and inventive people will be needed more than anything in the new world," was her final argument.
For the past two months she had walked Carl to and from school. Carl Grimes did not need a chaperone or a protector. He was a thirteen year old terminator. He'd killed more of the undead than most living adults. But, it was about being together. The walks were their time. The walks had become their thing. He could talk to her about anything. She in turn, could keep an eye out for him. He hated when people treated him like a kid, so she kept their conversations light and did more listening than talking.
"I got into a fight with Ron and Brian." He confessed.
"We talked about fighting, Carl. Fighting is not how we're gonna handle conflict," she peered at him. He could see the disappointment on her face.
"I know," he acquiesced.
"Okay," she eased her expression, "so what happened to make you do something that you know better than to do?"
"They said things about you living here with me, Daryl and dad. They made it sound…I don't know," his body began to slump and he looked away from her. There it was…the deflated look.
"What did they say?" Her stomach began to knot.
"It doesn't…I don't," he mumbled much like a younger child who had been caught in the act of doing something wrong. She stepped into his personal space.
"Carl. What did they say?" She repeated.
"Just stuff about you being both dad and Daryl's girlfriend. They called Daryl the dirty redneck and that you do stuff with him and dad." He looked back down at the floor.
"Hmm," she cocked her head to the side and raised an eyebrow, "Is what they said true?"
"No. I know it's not true." He spoke with a hint of both ire and disgust.
"Oh…Really? So why would a lie bother you? We've already had this conversation haven't we?" He nodded.
"Unfortunately, a lot of people have small minds. We've talked about small minds, Right?" She touched his head softly before quickly removing her hand.
"Yes," he offered while looking around the room. He shifted in his growing embarrassment.
"Look. We're different. And sometimes, when people are different, others don't know how to react to them. They've been behind these walls for a long time and they haven't seen or had to do the things that we have." He nodded his head with no verbal response.
"Do you think I should move out of here?"
"No. I don't want you to move," he blurted out with his eyes now alive with purpose.
"Well, I don't want to either. This is my home. This is our home. I could give a damn about what other people think. We're a family here," she motioned around the room at the others who were watching the interaction like it was a Saturday matinee at the local theatre – their eyes transfixed, "But, you already know that. Right?"
"Yes," he admitted.
"Okay…so no more bullshit. What was the fight about? The truth this time." She stared into his eyes, not allowing him to hide whatever the truth was from her.
"That was the truth."
"It wasn't. Those kids have said those kinds of things before," she paused to make sure he was with her, "What was the fight about. Tell me." He looked around the room again. They were all staring at him. He was becoming more than just embarrassed. He wanted to crawl into a dark cave and hide. He looked at his dad who tried to give him a smile of support, but his eyes were clearly waiting for an answer. She took a hold of his face and looked into his eyes. He attempted to avert her stare.
"Look at me" she instructed, "Tell me."
"Can we talk about it later?" he asked with true sincerity. She stood up straight and considered his request.
"No more laters. You need to tell me." She didn't break her piercing stare. She didn't care who else was in the room. It was just the two of them. He could tell her, even if everyone else heard. It was just them in that moment. Their own bubble. She continued…
"Our relationship is our relationship. We don't care about what those kids think. What's this really about? Because I know it doesn't have anything to do with some rude comments and assumptions from those little brats."
"I was talking to Ron and Brian and I accidentally called you my mom. It…it was an accident. But then they started making fun of me. They said that you couldn't be my mom because you're black and because you're not married to my dad," his eyes began to water. She backed away. Her eyes opened wide and she put her hand to her mouth. If her face could've gone pale, it would've. The most uncomfortable silence permeated the room. If a pen had dropped they would've heard it. Even Judith didn't make a sound.
Her eyes found Ricks. It was a magnetic pull that she tried to ignore. She tried to ignore everything about their growing attraction. For the past few weeks he'd been practically MIA from home. She was both relieved and upset by his absence. It had become more and more difficult to ignore what his presence did to her. It was stifling. It was overwhelming. Something had shifted within the dynamic of their friendship. Avoidance was the best solution until she could figure it out.
She looked into his eyes for the first time in three weeks. Her eyes were asking for the answer to this current Carl dilemma – but what she got was the answer to the Rick and Michonne dilemma instead. They were in love with each other and running away from it wouldn't change this very real fact. She could feel the sting of impending tears as she looked into the blue eyes of the man she was in love with. He nodded giving her unspoken permission.
She took a deep breath before looking at Carl…
"Was it just an accident…when you referred to me as your mom?"
"Yes," he replied tentatively – unsure.
"Was it?" she softened her tone and stepped closer to him.
"No." He spoke with more certainty.
"Is that what you want?"
He looked away and glanced around the room. She took his chin and refocused his gaze.
"This is you and me. Is that what you want?" She asked, dismissing the notion that he couldn't say what he needed to say in front of everyone. They had their own secrets, but this could not be one of them.
"Yes," he told her with renewed certainty.
"Why?" She asked.
"Because…" he stopped.
"Because why?" She was not going to let him get away with one of two word explanations.
"Never mind. It doesn't matter," he was again deflecting.
"Don't do that Carl. It does matter. Tell me why," she strongly urged.
"Because you're like my mom. But, it's wrong because I already had a mom. So never mind," he offered, dejectedly lowering his head.
"Don't…Don't write things that matter to you off with a never mind. You're better than that. I'm better than that," she lowered her head and turned it to the side to capture his eyes…
"Do you want me to be your mom so you can forget about your mom?" She asked the question that she already knew the answer to.
"No," he raised his head with his emphatic answer. Almost challenging her; unsure how she could even ask such a thing.
"Then why?" They were now staring in each other's eyes.
"Just…I just do. I mean, you talk to me. You take care of me and Judith. I can tell you anything. And…and I love you." His eyes began to become red and glaze over with tears.
She didn't break her stare. She didn't allow his words to undo her. She slightly softened her facial expression and looked only at him. She was aware that everyone in the room was probably becoming emotional, but she wouldn't allow for an emotional breakdown right now.
"I love you too. Very much," she touched his face; using her thumb to wipe the tear that broke through.
"So, um, can I call you…" he stopped. She fiddled with her necklace as her mind began to wander. He looked in her eyes. She didn't respond.
"I'm sorry. I should'nt've…said anything," he looked down at the carpet again; it was the most important thing in the room at that moment. He would be okay keeping his eyes focused on it and only it, for the remainder of his life.
"What makes to say that?" She asked looking at the top of his head as he kept his focus on the floor.
"I mean, I know I'm not really your son, and I don't want you to think that I'm trying to take Andre's place."
Michonne had only, consciously, talked about her little boy to Carl. The only adults in the room who knew that she had once been a mother were Rick, Carol and Daryl. They were recipients of the information through her indirect admission. The other's suspected, but none ever asked.
Over the past couple of months the shell that had developed around her heart had cracked. The spillage was minimal at first. Small callbacks to her previous life came out during family meals and house chores and walks around the community. The domesticity of their life had allowed her to let go of certain pain and distance - she was less guarded. Michonne never made any big pronouncement about her son or previous life. It was part of conversations that flowed naturally into their daily life.
"Carol, dinner was great," Michonne complimented the gray haired survivor who had moved into her own house weeks earlier. In spite of having her own house, she continued to have most of her nighttime meals with Rick, Daryl, Michonne and the kids. She and Michonne took turns cooking. Rick's culinary skills began and ended with spaghetti. Daryl had no culinary skills beyond barbecuing unsuspecting animals.
"Thank you, Michonne. Glad you liked it," Carol acknowledged with a twinkle in her eyes. She really enjoyed the meals that they shared.
"Yeah, it was good Carol. Thanks." Rick added.
"You're welcome."
"It reminds me of a casserole I used to make," Michonne smiled at the thought.
"I bet it was good," Carl happily assumed.
"Nah. It was prob'ly some kinda health food," Daryl scoffed.
"Well," Ignoring Daryl's attempt at throwing shade, she smiled and lightly squeezed Carl's arm before standing to clear the table, "Most of the time it was the only thing I could get Andre' to eat. He was the most finicky eater I've ever seen. You certainly don't have that problem. I don't think there's anything you won't eat," she laughed as she grabbed his plate.
Both Carol and Daryl glanced over to Rick while Carl and Michonne chatted away as if no one else was present. They were both wordlessly asking the question that he did not know the answer to. He shrugged, indicating that he was just as floored as them at this new information.
"In my defense, I have to eat whatever I can get my hands on," he gave her his thirteen year old knowing smirk before he laughed with her.
"How often did you have to make it for him?"
"Sometimes three times a week if you can believe that," she laughed as she handed the dishes to Carl and picked up Judith who was kicking her feet and waving her hands to be lifted from her highchair.
"Ugh…that's too much," Carl chuckled as he went to put the dishes in the sink.
"I know," she tickled Judith's tummy, "Oh, and by the way, you're on dish duty tonight Dixon," she smacked him on the back before heading to the stairs with a lively Judith.
Daryl didn't respond. He, Rick and Carol had quietly listened to their banter. That was the first time that they heard her son's name. She was subconsciously allowing them to know her. She was giving away a part of herself that she'd kept well guarded. Over the following weeks they learned a number of things about her little boy; her little peanut. There was never sadness when she referred to him. Andre' Anthony had effortlessly become a part of their family.
"Look at me," she again cupped his chin and lifted his head, "You could never take his place. Just like how I could never take your moms place. People can't replace other people…that's not how our hearts work. We all have an amazing capacity to love. Andre, my little peanut, has a place in my heart that no one will ever have. You and Judith have another place. And I could never replace your mom. She has a place in your heart, and I have another one. Do you understand what I mean?"
"Yes. I just…I don't want you to think I'm trying to take his place."
"I don't. But can you tell me something?
"Yes," he nodded slowly.
"Why do you want to call me mom? The feelings are there, I don't need the title."
"Because…everyone calls you Michonne. I don't want to call you the same thing that everyone else does. And I like Mom. Plus, I've heard Judith call you mama a few times. I want to too," he had more tears in his eyes but a small and slightly mischievous grin on his face. She smiled back at him.
"I think she was trying to say Michonne. I don't think I really thought about it…" she wiped away one tear and smiled, "…I didn't think I'd ever be called that again."
"So," he was back to his unsure and tentative voice. He looked at her, attempting to discern the simultaneous tear and smile, "can I call you mom?"
"Yeah…I mean, Yes. You can," she cleared her throat and kept her eyes glued to his eyes - they were currently dark azure, much like his dad's when he was emotional. "I'd be very honored and proud to have to call me mom…"
She could barely get the words out before he grabbed her, knocking her backwards. She stumbled nearly losing her footing. He held her tightly – his hands resting on her back. She could feel wetness on her chest; his tears soaking through her shirt. She regained her composure and wrapped her arms around him. He winced and wiggled to release her strong hold on him. She backed her head up enough to look in his face…
"What's wrong with your arm? Did they hit you in the arm too?" She stepped back with a furrowed brow and focused her attention towards his arm.
"Um…" he glanced around the room, past the sea of eyes, and landed his focus on his dad. He was asking the question silently, 'what should I say?'
Michonne saw the nervousness. She saw his reluctance to disclose the truth of what happened. He was preparing to lie.
"Carl, look at me, not anyone else. Did they hit you in the arm?" she touched his arm again and pursed her lips into one single organism.
"Um, no. It wasn't them. Um, Mr. Burke grabbed my arm," he stepped back from her grasp and avoided looking her in the eyes.
"Okay. Why did he grab your arm?" She was seeing red. Hold it together. Hold it together.
"When Ron, Brian and me started arguing, he came up and grabbed me. I told him that I hit Ron because he and Brian punched me. But, he grabbed me and took me out of the room." The red became darker. Hold it together. She took a deep breath and displayed a half-smiled before she exhaled.
"Did you tell him what happened?" She asked as her face was quickly becoming flush.
"I tried, but he said that me and my family needed to learn how to function properly in this community. And…that I obviously have anger issues like my father." Out of the corner of her eye she could see Rick begin to pace with clenched fists.
Carl had seen so much. He'd seen things that children should never see. He survived watching his mother die; he survived having to ensure that she stayed dead. This is an incredibly amazing young man. But right now, in this moment, he'd never looked so sweet.
He was still so innocent. He was more concerned with what she and his father would do than he was about his teacher's inappropriate behavior. How was it possible to be innocent in this world? She stroked his face and ruffled his long locks.
They all held their breath. They'd seen Rick go off the rails. Rick's temper and lack of patience was now legendary in their small community. He'd been doing much better tempering his anger. Michonne was the key in keeping him from being so reactionary. But….
If she became as incensed as Rick. The two of them together. Alexandria would be burned to the ground in their fury. They had never seen Michonne's rage. None knew what to expect. This warrior woman that fought beside them was still such a mystery. They'd seen her fight, but they'd also seen her optimism in the face of adversity. The question was…which would prevail.
She turned towards the door. The tears that she'd been holding back finally came. She wiped her face. Tara was still standing in front of the door. She looked into the compassionate eyes of her dark haired friend. There was silent understanding. Tara was crying. The thoughts of her sister and niece were pervasive. Her niece was the closest she'd ever come to understanding what it felt like to be a mom; to have a maternal connection. Her heart was breaking for the warrior who stood before her. They now had a bond that had never existed before. Michonne focused her attention on the door – beyond the door before she spoke…
"Glenn…" she said without turning, "Glenn…"
"Uh, yeah," he answered.
"I need you and Maggie to go and speak with Mr. Burke." She informed him. He didn't respond. His gaze drifted to Rick. Their non-elected leader was still pacing and rubbing his hand over his face.
"Did you hear me?"
"Um…yeah."
"You and Maggie are the best ones to convey this message. It shouldn't come from me or Rick," she shook her head and placed her hand on her necklace before continuing, "It needs to be said with calm…with tact."
"Uh…okay," he responded looking at his wife. She responded to his silent question with the same question, "what?"
"Mr. Burke is a weak man that's survived this long because he happened to be with Deanna and Reg when the world ended. The fact that he never had to fight to stay alive makes him fortunate. That was his good fortune. We don't hold any ill will towards him because of it. The fact that he doesn't particularly like us is his right. He can like or not like whomever he wants. Again, that's his right." She wiped away the remaining tears and turned to face Glenn…
She did her best to smile but it came out as a half-smile half-grimace. Her younger friend looked at her nervously, "I walk Carl to school every day and I do my best to make sure that Burke knows that we're here to support him, the school, and the community. But…I see right through him. He's a bully. He's a cowardly bully. I've known it for some time. He's one of many," she crossed her arms and crinkled her nose while looking into the narrowed and confused eyes of her friends.
"But, I need you both to relay this to him," she took a deep breath, ran her hands down her shirt – knocking out the wrinkles in the material – gave and emotionless smile to her friend, "If he ever puts his hands on Carl again…for any reason…I'll remove his left hand from his body. He's left handed…and that's the hand that he'll lose. Should that weasely-little-putz ever need to actually protect himself, it'll be pretty hard without his prominent hand. And…if he ever makes another negative comment about any of us in Carl's presence…I'll remove his head from his body. It'll be swift and final." She laughed sardonically as she wiped a falling tear, sending a chill through both Maggie and Glenn as they watched her. Her laughter was the only sound in the room.
"Mich…uh…Michonne…" Maggie cautiously began.
Michonne quickly interrupted her, "Make sure that he knows that this isn't a threat. Understand? A threat implies that it may or may not happen. Make sure that he knows that this is a promise. There is absolutely no chance on God's green earth that I won't follow through with what I'm saying. I won't discuss anything. I won't ask any questions. I won't listen to any apologies. And there won't be any type of parent teacher conference. It'll be done." They didn't respond. No one spoke. The room was deathly quiet as everyone attempted to wrap their minds around her words. The finality in her words was bone chilling…
"I need to make sure you both convey my message. You can convey it however you want…as long as the message is delivered…and received," she eyed the couple as she watched the wheels turn.
"Okay, Michonne. Don't worry," Glenn assured.
"Yeah. We got this," Maggie confirmed with her best attempt at a reassuring smile. Michonne returned the smile to both. She then turned and began to walk towards the door. Carl ran up and threw his arms around her. The well of emotions that hit nearly floored her. His hands rested under her breasts. She laid her hands over his for a moment before raising them to brush away tears.
"I love you, Mom," he sniffled into her back.
"I…love you too baby," she patted his hands, "go on into the kitchen and grab a snack. I put something on the stove for you. Then, start on that report. I'll help you when I get back." She broke from his grasp and reached the door…
"Where are you going?" Abe shouted his inquiry from the other side of the room. He, along with everyone else had been quiet during the entire exchange. His eyes were red with emotion. He'd shed more than a few tears while watching the heart wrenching scene.
"Deanna wanted me to work with Aaron on putting together…" she took a deep breath, "putting together a loose community contract for newcomers. I'll be with him and Eric." She opened the door and left without looking back. Carl watched her go before turning to do as she'd instructed.
"Um, she actually handled it a lot better than I thought she would," Morgan commented with a chuckle.
The day it changed…
He was thinking about his plans for the day. It was a day not unlike most of their days as of late. Michonne had already walked Carl to school, dropped Judith off at Carol's and back at the house tending to the breakfast dishes. The day was quite ordinary. There was nothing special which is why he was taken aback when he walked into the kitchen and saw her. It was the first time that he'd really seen her. He stood at the entry way of the kitchen.
She was standing at the sink. Her locs were in a loose bun. Her long smooth neck was showcased. He had a flash of slowly kissing the skin that was undoubtedly the softest skin he'd ever know. Sucking her neck, slowly and sensually before running his tongue from her earlobes to the plump area of her breasts. The way the silky blue robe she was wearing hugged her body. Her shoulders were petite. Holding onto those shoulders while our bodies are pressed together. The fullness of her modest teardrop breasts, lightly bouncing under the thin robe. Her nipples gently brushing the silky blue material as she glided through the room. The feel of her nipples getting hard as I rub them with my hands. The way she moved. The way her hips swayed as she moved effortlessly between the sink and the stove. Her arms were long and elegant. Her svelte body was hypnotizing.
How did I never notice her arms? I've seen her swing that katana hundreds of times. I've watched her arms move in an almost dance like motion hundreds of times. How did I never notice? The way the belt of the robe rests just above her rear. Have I ever seen a more incredible butt? I'd noticed. But, have I ever really noticed? Rubbing my naked body against her. Holding onto that incredible body. He shook his head. He wanted to touch her. He wanted to touch himself. How long had it been since he had truly been turned on? Sexually aroused? How long since he wanted to bury his face between the legs of a woman. Run his tongue over someone's body. Touch someone. Be touched by someone. Refocus. Before him, in their shared kitchen, was this vision of womanly perfection. This ain't right.
She turned around, sensing his presence.
"Good morning," she greeted, "I didn't hear you."
"Hey," he responded before turning towards the door. His body had reacted. He was embarrassed. Appalled that he could look at her that way. Act as if she was some kind of sexual object. Lascivious thoughts had caused his body to betray him. He had an undeniable erection, "I gotta get goin'…talk to you later. Have a good day." He exited the front door.
Rick began leaving the house before Michonne and the kids were up, and returned just in time to have dinner with his family – focusing most of his attention on his children. He went to bed as soon as the kids were down for the night. His conversation with his fellow adult housemates had become nearly nonexistent over the past few weeks. He was conscious of these feelings; but unable to decipher exactly what they were. He couldn't look her in the eyes. He would never objectify her.
It was then that he knew. Three weeks of running away from it. Three weeks of confusion. He now knew for sure. I'm in love with her. It's love. It's not lust. It's her. Her ability to be both hard and soft at the same time. Her silliness when she talks to Carl. Her sweetness when she talks to Judith. Her stubbornness when she's intent on getting her point across. Her drive to want a life for their entire family. Her willingness to put herself out there. It's not about sex.
They all watched her exit the house…
There was nervous laughter following Morgan's comment. Carl walked to the kitchen.
"Rick." Carol said into the quiet laughter. Though his thoughts were moving through his mind with lightning speed, they were currently attempting to traverse through the murkiest of waters. Talk to Carl? Talk to his family? Explain himself? Go speak to Burke? Follow up with Glenn and Maggie about Michonne's instructions? Go after Michonne and tell her what he'd been unable to say for the past few weeks? Would their relationship be ruined if she didn't feel the same? Would their relationship be ruined if she did feel the same?
He ran his hand over his face and didn't move.
"Rick…" Sasha said with more fervor than Carol, "I think…um." She stopped.
When does admiration turn into mutual respect? When does mutual respect become friendship? When does friendship turn into love? None had the answer. With everything that they'd all had to deal with; it was honestly not a question that none had posed. But…they all stood there and watched Michonne look at Rick. They watched Rick look at Michonne. There it was. It was as plain as the nose on your face. Somewhere along the way, as they fought for survival and longed for a life, their two friends had fallen in love with each other. How did they not notice until now? When did it happen?
"Rick, you need to g…" Morgan was cut off…
"Yeah, I know," Rick interrupted as the lead in his feet that kept him tethered to the floor finally disappeared - he walked quickly to the door. Abraham smacked him on the back as he took his leave from the room. He stopped on the porch, quickly assessing the street. Michonne was walking slowly towards Aaron and Eric's house. He jogged in her direction.
Everyone walked out the front door and stood on the porch. They watched Rick run towards Michonne.
"Michonne…" they heard him shout. She stopped suddenly and turned to face the man who was jogging quickly towards her. Carl stepped onto the porch with a plate in his hand as he, along with the others, silently watched his parents.
Rick stopped running as he reached her. They couldn't hear his words as he stepped closer to her. His hand went to her face. He stepped closer to her. They could only see his back. There was no movement for about thirty seconds. And then, his head dipped and moved forward just as her arms very slowly splayed around his back. Her locs rested gently just past his shoulders on his upper back. Her hands moved up his back and into his hair. He stepped closer to her. There can't possibly be any space between them. They watched from the porch as two separate individuals…became One.
"This is one hell of a family," Rosita mumbled.
"Yep…a family that slays together," Sasha said with a chuckle.
Carl smirked as he turned around and went back into the house to finish the food that his mom had made for him.
T*F*T*S*T
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this little story. Thank you so much for reading. Please let me know what you think. Blessings to you all...