The Proposal
Prompt from Zeejack: I would like something with Rick planning to propose to Michonne and all the family is trying to help him come up with a great proposal idea and of course we get the actual proposal too cause I love her saying yes she'll marry him!
A/N: Well, I took some liberties with who exactly is giving Rick advice. This is an introspective Rick chapter and the next one will be from Michonne's POV. I was trying to change up my writing style a little bit and it was difficult, but I really hope you like it!
For reference, certain events involving Rick and a certain person who loves owls and plaid shirts either never happened or enough time has passed that nobody cares anymore.
…..
Chapter 1
I climbed the rickety ladder to the main lookout tower and told Sasha that I would take over.
"You sure?" she asked, frowning.
The sun was beginning to set and she had at least a few hours left on her assigned shift.
I nodded.
For a brief moment Sasha looked like she was going to say something else but decided against it.
"Alright," she agreed, and I got the sense that she understood why I was out here.
What I really needed was to be somewhere quiet, to be alone with my thoughts. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
I miss Hershel. This was the time of day, evening falling over our home, when we used to talk. If he were here now, I don't even know where I'd start.
'Well, start at the beginning then,' I could almost hear him say in that unhurried way he had.
I should be happy. And I am happy, I really am.
We survived the herd breaking through the walls. We survived an attack by murderous scavengers. Glenn and Daryl got separated from us, briefly stranded out in the world, but we got them back. We rebuilt the walls.
My family is safe, for the moment. And whatever new danger is around the corner, we can handle it. Things are good, truly good.
There is a warm seed of joy deep in my heart, and that seed began to grow on a day that, like many others, could have easily been my last.
I was out on a run with Aaron, Michonne, and Heath. Normally I don't like to be far from Carl and Judith but recent events have left the community severely short-handed and low on medical supplies. We found some of what we needed, enough to get by, and started to head back home.
We'd spotted a large herd passing by safely to the north earlier and could have stayed clear if it hadn't been for a sudden and violent thunderstorm. The walkers became agitated and confused by the loud booms and echoes and the semi-orderly herd disintegrated.
Long story short, I got separated from the others and only caught up to them again after a long and sleepless night huddled in a foul smelling drainage pipe under a bridge, listening to the dead shuffle by. Finally the coast was more or less clear and I made my way back to the street where I'd last seen Michonne and the others.
I remember standing there in the middle of a quiet street, decapitated and dismembered corpses scattered all around. It was a familiar sight, clearly the work of Michonne's katana, and it had happened recently. There were so many, too many to count, too many to imagine.
I walked slowly through the destruction, panic rising, afraid of what I would see next.
"Rick!"
It was Michonne's voice. I turned around, as if waking from a nightmare, and saw her, Aaron, and Heath walking towards me.
I closed my eyes and let out a long breath. When I opened them I could see Michonne running ahead of the others. I smiled and before I could say anything, Michonne was there, dropping her sword and throwing her arms around my neck.
I was briefly surprised by her unusual display of affection, but I certainly wasn't going to complain. I hugged her tightly.
I was even more surprised when she kissed me. The kiss was impulsive and a little unsure, but unmistakably tender, with her body still pressed against mine, her fingers in my hair.
It was in that sudden, breathless moment that I knew, without a doubt, that I would love her for the rest of my life, however long that may be.
To be honest, I don't think I was planning on ever opening that door again. But here I am.
Anyway, that was about a month ago now and we've spent nearly every night since then together.
'So what's the problem, then?' I imagined Hershel asking, with that knowing smirk of his.
I sighed, absently fiddling with my holstered revolver.
"It's not so much a problem as…an uneasiness, I suppose. A feeling of uncertainty," I said, trying to put a name to what was bothering me, what had driven me out here when I should have been at home, getting ready for bed.
It was that old self-doubt catching up to me again. I should be happy, content, but I can't help second guessing everything.
I'm afraid that Michonne doesn't know, really know, how much she means to me. That she doesn't feel the same way about me. That what we have doesn't mean as much to her as it does to me.
But how can I expect her to know what I feel for her if I haven't said it out loud? I know I'm terrible at talking about my feelings. That's what Lori used to say and, to be fair, she did have a point.
So of course she said what she did. I can't blame her for thinking that way.
Last night I got into bed first and, as I lay there waiting for Michonne to finish brushing her teeth, I decided to try. I didn't have any clear idea what I wanted to say, but I felt the need to say something.
Then she came out of the bathroom, smiled that soft Michonne smile that takes my breath away every time, and crawled into bed with me.
I don't even remember what I said, but I remember fumbling the words, stopping and starting again, before she cut me off.
"Rick," she said, leaning over me so that her dreadlocks fell down around our faces like a curtain, "Don't ruin this by talking about it."
The she closed the small distance between us, kissing me seductively.
It wasn't until today that I realized her words had gotten stuck in my head, nagging at me, bothering me.
"Your problem, son," Hershel said, "is all timing."
I ducked my head in embarrassment, but I was smiling, "Yeah, that could be it."
"Do you want my advice?" Hershel asked.
He leaned against the railing to take some weight off of his bad leg. The old man had a habit of asking questions that I knew he knew the answer to. I played along.
"You know I can use all the help I can get," I said.
"Well, your heart is in the right place. If you love her, you need to tell her that. Even if you think she already knows. You still need to say it. Tell her what she means to you. Tell her what you want. Reassurance is important, Rick."
It was solid advice. I know what I feel for her, but how do I take those feelings out of my heart and translate them into English? I don't even know where to start.
As if reading my mind, Hershel continued, "Now here's how you do it. Keep it simple and to the point. Honest. Don't overthink it. You're not trying to write a sonnet."
"Okay," I said, for the first time feeling like maybe I could pull this off.
"There's one more thing, Rick," Hershel said slowly, "You've been given a second chance at love. Trust me, I know what it's like. After my first wife passed, I thought that was it. I didn't think I could ever love again. But I found Annette."
"What I'm saying is, Rick, don't feel guilty for moving on. Michonne is your second chance. And you're hers."
That really hit home. I put my hand to my face, squeezing my eyes against the sudden rush of truth.
I think in the back of my mind I've decided that I don't deserve to be happy, not after everything I've done. How could I?
But maybe that doesn't matter. Michonne deserves to be loved and maybe that's all I need to know.
"Do you know what you need to do?" Hershel asked.
I took a deep breath and answered truthfully, "I do."
When I looked around again Hershel was gone. I was alone on the lookout platform.
The dark night covered Alexandria like a blanket. Crickets chirped in the bushes and I watched over my sleeping home.
"Hershel," I said softly, "I miss you."
…..
TBC!
BONUS TRIVIA: I borrowed a small line from the comics. What is it?
