Michonne got back from gate tower duty late. With no guns and even fewer people, the security patrols were sparse. But Alexandria managed to keep one person at the gate tower, 24/7, thanks to Father Gabriel. That is why Michonne was late, Father Gabriel had tried to give her the same pep talk that he'd given Rick earlier in the day. But the second speech went about as well as the first. Michonne couldn't hear him. All she could think about was their beds smoldering on the side of the road.

When he was done, Michonne looked up at him finally and just said, "I haven't seen any sign of our people still out there." Gabriel Nodded. Before Michonne climbed down she added, "I'm going to patrol outside tomorrow. I probably won't be able to do my night gate shift."

"That is fine, Scott has been asking to do more to help out. He can take your shifts."

When Michonne got home she kept her eyes down. She needed to shower and sleep. If she paid too much attention to what all they had lost today, her anger would keep her up all night. Rick wasn't asleep when she got to their bedroom. She could tell by his breathing. He rolled over to his back.

"Hey," his voice was gravelly, parched, "everythang OK at the gate tonight?" He had been waiting up. They hadn't spoken since she said she'd try. Then, she disappeared, again. He caught a glimpse of her on the tower that evening and knew she was within the community, at least.

"Quiet," Michonne replied as she set down her katana. She looked around for a moment. The dresser was gone. Her heart sank.

Rick, sensing her confusion and building disappointment, turned on the lamp and said, "some of your clothes are at the bottom of the closet. I folded them. They didn't take everythang."

She gave him a look that she wished could convey gratitude for the gesture. But fighting her true feelings, she knew she probably looked at him blankly as she walked over to the closet. She used the lamp light to find some fresh clothes.

"You can turn that out," she said as she headed to the bathroom. Rick reached up and turned out the light and stared up at the blank ceiling. As he heard the shower start, he fought with his memories. She's alive. She's home, that is all that matters. He forced himself to run down the list of things to do tomorrow. She could come with him, Carl too. He needed the help and he could make sure they don't do anything stupid.

He heard the shower turn off. After a short while, Michonne came out of the bathroom fully clothed, again. She collapsed on the pallet of blankets and let out a sharp exhale. The barely cushioned floor felt even crueler than she had anticipated. She seethed. So much for sleep, she thought to herself. Rick turned on his side toward her. She turned her head to look at him. For a long moment, he just stared at her. Then tears began to rim the bottom of his eyes and for a moment more he looked through her.

Concerned, Michonne turned her whole body now to face his. Her locks splayed in the space between them. Rick's arm fell from his waist and into the space between. He looked down as his fingertips gently caressed the jagged edge of one of her locs. An unexpected wave of embarrassment crashed over Michonne. Rick had noticed, noticed what they had done to her. She felt humiliated and angry, so angry that they had caught her out there, taken her clothes, and used a hunting knife to saw off some of her locs. She had not known the real reason why they took these personal effects. All the Savior had said as he waved around her severed dreadlocks and vest in his hands was, "these belong to Negan."

"They took them," she finally choked out, the anger strangling her words.

"I'm sorry," Rick whispered not looking up.

"It's not your fault," Michonne said quietly, but defiantly. She had made the call to be out there, to go after Daryl. Rick trying to take responsibility for what happened just stoked her humiliation more.

He wanted to protest. He wasn't just sorry for what they took from her, but for his distance since, the subjugation today, that damn deer. But, words didn't matter, he knew that. And they disagreed so sharply about the right actions to take that he felt for the first time ever that she couldn't trust him. She wanted to trust him, he felt that. She was lying next to him, after all, but that fighter in her that he loved so deeply, she would never accept this. She was fighting herself for him.

He looked up at her big brown eyes. His breath hitched. "Come with me and Aaron tomorrow."

Michonne turned to lie on her back again, her hair pulled away from Rick's reach. She stared up at the ceiling. This was the closest they had been in days and he used it to request she scavage for Negan. She stayed there her lips opened and pursed together as she tried to find the words. Finally, she settled on, "we need sleep."

Rick nodded and banged his head into his pillow a couple times. After several minutes Michonne saw his chest moving up and down in slow rhythms. She watched him sleep for a couple hours more till the rhythm of his breathing turned the volume down on her anger and slowly, finally she fell asleep.