This New Life

Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead

A/N: Season 3 and 4 references. Set after the fall of the prison.

Chapter 1: Reunions

"It's for you." Rick Grimes said to his son, smiling. Out of relief, he flopped to the couch. A great weight was lifted from his chest. She was alive, she had survived. But then again, he knew in his heart that she would have. She was a survivor; is a survivor, and she had found her way back to them. She always did.

Carl excitedly flung the door open and pounced into Michonne's open arms as they both burst into tears of joy and relief and a knowing. These small moments of levity mixed with hints of sadness, felt bigger than they normally would; these three individuals were all alone in the world. They did not know who else from their group had lived. Michonne had made it and found them, so there was always hope.

"You look terrible," she said quietly to the bruised and battered man sitting on the floor directly across from her. "How much rest have you had?"

Her brown eyes searched his blue ones. Rick held her gaze, then awkwardly shifted his eyes to the floor as he rubbed the hair on his face and raised his eyebrows.

"He was unconscious all day." Carl interrupted, wearing an unreadable expression. "Only came to about an hour ago."

Michonne's eyes narrowed as she scurried from her seating place to Rick's side. She placed the back of her hand to his forehead. He winced a little as he was still somewhat tender, but he was not burning up. An uncertain look spreading across his face as she stared directly at him.

"I'm fine, really, I am." He said hoarsely. Averting his gaze again, looking anywhere but at her.

"Just tired and sore. Nothing a warm bath wouldn't fix." He said with a weak smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Rick, "she started slowly. "Let me h…"

"It's okay, Michonne." He said, placing his left hand to her shoulder and squeezing it lightly. "Don't make a fuss now."

That night, she watched them both sleep. The three of them remained in close proximity for warmth and comfort in the darkened living space of the house they were holed up in. Rick and Carl lay down on the floor, either side of Michonne, while she sat with her legs stretched out and her eyes red from the tears that she had shed. Carl's head rested on Michonne's lap while he breathed quietly, deep in sleep. Her left arm lovingly draped over the boy in a protective manner. His father did not rest as easily. Every so often, Rick's eyes would flutter open, with fear and pain etched across his sad but handsome face in a dreamy haze. Michonne studied Rick while he slept and he looked so old. She imagined he couldn't be much older than she was, but the events of this new life had taken their toll on him. Rick, half asleep, reached for Michonne in the dark to ensure she was still there. She took his hand to reassure him and used her thumb to rub his palm while she hushed him back to sleep.

5 months ago

"Glad to see you." Said Rick, honesty in each word he spoke. At hearing this, Michonne smiled and responded immediately: "Glad to see you too."

She hoped it didn't sound too eager, yes, it definitely sounded eager. She mentally reprimanded herself for feeling like a schoolgirl lately when Rick Grimes was near. How when a small smile would grace his lips, she couldn't help but smile too. The two of them had an understanding like no others in the group. It was there from the start. Somehow, he thought, Michonne knew the weight that he was carrying deep down inside; the gravity of the decisions he made. She did not question his leadership, like so often the group had, she just accepted that he did what he had to do. She understood that he was a good man, he just did what he had to do to protect the group, and above all, his children. It may have come down to the fact that she did not need Rick or his leadership to survive like many others did, but Michonne had to admit, she enjoyed his company and being part of a group again. Rick's decisions, with the exception of one, did not leave her life hanging in the balance. She could take care of herself, she knew that, and he knew that. So what ever he decided, she accepted because she trusted Rick and wanted to settle in as part of his group.

There was something different about Michonne that Rick could not quite put his finger on. She was not like other women he had known, before or after the outbreak. She did not attach herself to a stronger partner or an alpha male for protection like a few others had. She did not need to submit to anyone to survive; she did not even need to be part of a group if she didn't want to. Michonne could make it on her own, all she needed to do was shut down her emotions and that would ensure her survival. She did not have to become close to anyone, but it happened. The unspoken understanding between Michonne and Rick formed the basis of their bond, and Carl was the force that brought them together. The loss of her own son was still fresh in her mind. She saw something between Carl and his father that she recognised; the lengths that you would go to protect your child. She admired Rick for this. He was strong and focussed and protected his son in a way that her own son's father could not, would not and did not. This drew her to the Grimes family. They were like a warm light on a cold winter's night.

When the others would leave for and return from runs, there was always some form of physical contact; a handshake, pat on the back, a hug. But not with the two of them. It's not that Rick didn't want to embrace Michonne out of relief and happiness that she had returned safely, but that he was afraid to give in to the strong urge to do so. Afraid that she would become offended, afraid that she would recoil from his touch. Afraid that an embrace shared between he and Michonne would linger too long, like when they would hold each other's gaze so intensely that it took every bit of strength to look away. Afraid that he would want more than a small embrace; afraid that they would both want more. And then what? Feel more fear, a different type of fear; fear of the inevitability of a separation. No, Rick did not think he could handle that. No, for now, he would keep his distance. You can't miss what was never yours and long for what you have never had, could you?

A gift for Carl he could understand; the boy and the dark-skinned beauty had formed a special bond. They gravitated toward each other and were comfortable in each other's company. A gift for Rick, though? He was a little taken aback by her kind gesture, but after considerations, felt glad that she had thought enough about returning to their home and that she was returning to Rick and his son. He smiled in appreciation and felt the strong desire to place an arm at Michonne's back; he chose not to as they walked back toward the prison.

Present day

Michonne let her mind wander again, back to the sadness and pain in Carl and Rick's eyes when they told her that Judith hadn't made it. How the breath was forced from her body and she physically shook, a reaction she could not control. She understood the anguish that Rick felt at the loss of a child; yet another tragedy they had in common. Another gaping wound that the two of them shared. The tears came to her eyes as she relinquished Rick's rough hand to wipe them away. He stirred in the darkness and whispered her name…nothing. No answer. Was he dreaming?

"Michonne?"

Rick struggled to sit up.

"I'm here, Rick. I's okay. Go back to sleep." She whispered through her sobs, gently urging him to remain reclined. He could hear that she was crying and forced his body up into a sitting position until his face was near hers, as the sniffling and sobbing became louder.

"Hey," he began to say. "Shhh shh. It's okay."

'I'm so sorry, Rick. I'm so sorry. I should never have stopped hunting that bastard. I'm so sorry." She said, gasping for air in the darkened room as Carl slept soundly.

"Shhh. Don't be sorry. It's not your fault. Shhh."

Rick placed his left arm around Michonne's shoulder and drew her shaking body towards him. She cried into his shoulder as he stroked her hair.

"I'm sorry too…" Rick whispered as the sharp pain of reality stabbed at his chest.