Rick stood in the kitchen, his hand shielding his downcast eyes. He couldn't stop shaking.
Everything had gone wrong. So fucking wrong.
It was a nightmare that had emerged from the depths of hell, catching them all unaware and unprepared. This wasn't supposed to happen.
Yet, it had. Every painful second kept replaying over and over in his head. He couldn't escape it. The pain drowned his senses. Reality clawed at his sanity.
He failed. He failed to keep them safe. He failed to keep them alive. Shame clouded his thoughts, their faces disappearing behind a haze of denial. No, this wasn't happening, he tried to convince himself. Not to his family. Not to them. Not again.
"No, no. I should've...didn't...not them. Not them...," he mumbled nonsensically.
"Rick?"
He froze. Her voice, it always found him, guided him. Not this time. It sounded faraway, out of reach. He hesitantly turned to make sure he wasn't just imagining it.
He could barely make out her still figure in the dark, a haunting silhouette watching over him, the mirage that always came in his time of need. She couldn't save him now. The pain was too deep, the guilt too heavy. He knit his brow as his mouth tried to form words. He wanted to scream, cry, plead for help but only shallow, erratic breaths passed through his trembling lips.
Michonne carefully studied him before quietly letting out the breath she'd been holding. She blinked tiredly. It was too much to expect any of them to sleep tonight, especially after what they'd just been through. She tried to hold it together for the sake of the kids but her resolve had worn away hours ago.
Watching Judith fall asleep had eased her nerves enough to face the world again but seeing Rick so broken, she knew it wouldn't last. Neither of them were in a good place. This loss had hit them harder than any other loss ever could. How they would make it past this was beyond her but they had to. If not for their own sake, then for the sake of the rest of their family.
She slowly approached his trembling form. "Let's go to bed," she prompted gently, hoping in vain they could get a few more hours of rest before they had to face their reality.
His head twitched undecidedly, as he blinked in a daze. He glanced up before turning away, raspingly responding, "Nah, I'm-I'm fine. Fine."
"Rick-"
"Don't," he whispered, slightly shaking his head, glancing up at her again. "D-don't."
She inhaled deeply, nodding silently. She understood. She wasn't going to push him. They all needed more time before they could even think of accepting the painful state of their family, let alone accept the fact that two of them were never coming back.
Pain and sadness gripped at her heart, squeezing her lungs, making every breath feel as though she had to gasp for air. Their family. Glenn. Abraham. Gone in an instant.
Things would never be the same. The thought was unbearable yet she couldn't dwell on it. Not now. They needed to protect what they had left. They needed a plan.
In a perfect world, they'd have enough time to heal but this was anything but perfect. These people were ruthless and not the kind to stand by and wait for them to properly grieve. They wanted what they had and were capable of killing every last person within these walls to get to it. They couldn't allow that to happen. She needed to know their next step.
One thing she knew for sure was that staying numb wasn't an option. She knew the risks of avoiding reality at an intimate level and they couldn't afford to take that path. Never again, she promised herself, especially while that maniac was out there. They needed something to hold on to, something they could focus on while their world fell apart.
She nodded determinedly, her eyes shifting calculatingly. "They've been watching us. For months now. We need to figure out how they've kept tabs on us this long. I'm thinking I might head out in the morning–"
"No," Rick hoarsely murmured, his eyes closed.
"Rick, we need to figure out–"
"No," he firmly interrupted once again, staring up at her as steadily as he could manage. "We don't."
She inhaled sharply, pressing her lips together. The moonlight illuminated the dark kitchen emphasizing the shadows on his grim expression. He was serious. He was expecting her to keep still while these deranged bastards terrorized their family, or at least what was left of it.
Something snapped inside her. Her nostrils flared. There was no way in hell she was going to accept that. They'd worked too damn hard for this. They couldn't let them just take it away. This was their home. Their safe zone. She'd be damned if she let them destroy what they'd helped build.
"We can't stay still. We need to do something," she said evenly, expecting him to recognize the gravity of their situation and agree with her rationality.
He shook his head. "We can't. And we won't." He glanced up at her solemnly, hoping she'd accept it unquestioningly but he knew she would never back down without a fight. It was her grit, after all, what he loved most about her.
She scoffed, blinking in disbelief. He never shut her down like this before. She understood that he was hurting but they needed to act. Even if it was something as simple as starting to gather information on these people. They couldn't just put on blinders and bow down to them without question. They had their home to think about, a future.
She needed him to understand. "We aren't going to risk anymore lives. We aren't going to provoke them. But we can't let them take this place without a fight. After everything they put us through? After what he did to...," her voice wavered. She swallowed thickly, a sharp pain shooting through her heart. "We won't let them take this from us. We're not losing any of it again. That's what we said. You won't. I won't."
She searched his eyes looking for any glimmer of the resolve he'd shown her a few days ago. It was gone. All that was left were empty blue eyes, pain and fear seeping in from the dark rims. It was as if his soul had broken into a million pieces, terror preventing him from putting the pieces back together.
Rick tiredly blinked, the confidence he'd once had now long gone, beaten and tortured from him. The illusion of invincibility had been snatched away. He was defeated, vulnerable and at somebody else's mercy. Things weren't the same anymore. He wasn't the same. He looked down at his dirty boots, promises he'd made in ignorance now seemed unrealistic, impossible, filling his gut with guilt.
Yet, she continued in her attempt to convince him. "Daryl is out there. We need to find him and bring him home. We can't just leave him."
"We have to."
Irate and losing patience, she countered, "Daryl is our family. We need our family more than ever."
"We don't have a choice!" he harshly replied, barely looking at her in the eye.
She looked at him as if he'd just struck her. He hated tearing down all her ideas, smothering her hope. It killed him inside to destroy her passion to keep them safe and together but he just couldn't bring himself to fuel her fire. He couldn't risk bringing that violence they'd just suffered into their walls.
He shakily breathed, calming himself, not wanting to turn this into an argument. He knew she was right but the fear inside him was immobilizing. He wasn't thinking straight and when he wasn't thinking straight, it always ended up getting somebody killed. They needed to stop, wait until the dust had settled if they were going to do something.
Looking away, guilt and fear twisting at his insides, he composedly explained, "It's like you said, after what they did, we can't put anybody else at risk. Not now."
The emotions that she'd kept tempered had finally met their limit. He was right yet her soul was screaming out in rage. She wanted him to be angry, vengeful, like she was feeling. She wanted him to lead the charge and take them all down for hurting their family. She knew it was illogical, wrong, but the desperation of feeling powerless had finally gotten to her. She couldn't help it.
"And you think laying down, giving them what they want, that's gonna stop them? You think they're gonna to stop killing us? Taking everything from us? You think we're going to be safe if we just stay still?" The words had spit themselves out before she had a chance to think them through. They were angry and reproachful, things that he didn't deserve to hear but that she'd needed to say.
He remained quiet. Her words had struck a chord but he was too afraid to let it persuade him to action. They were not in a position to decide what they would allow and what they wouldn't. They would have to accept whatever cruelty fate had waiting for them. Her life mattered too much to him. Carl's, Judith's, the rest of the family, their lives were the most important thing in the world right now and he couldn't lose them. He wouldn't lose them.
Defeated, he finally uttered, "I can't-I can't lose anybody else."
Sensing his defeat yet unwilling to accept it, she steadily replied. "Then what do we do?"
He blinked tiredly, rubbing a hand over his face. "I don't-I don't know. I don't know," he murmured, lost as to how they could possibly overcome this.
She pursed her lips. The man standing in front of her was not one that she recognized. The man she knew never gave up. He never lost hope. She closed her eyes and knit her brow. She needed to remind him of who he was, of his strength, of his determination. She still had faith in him. He needed to know that. If they were going to make it through this, he needed to know.
"What he did or said to you, he made you believe he broke you," she began.
She knew. It didn't surprise him that she knew. No matter what he said or didn't say, she would always know. He was a broken man and there was nothing he could do to hide that from her. He remained quiet, unable to look at her, waiting for the disillusionment she'd express at finding out he was a fraud, a man pretending to be something he wasn't and never would be.
She opened her eyes and slowly walked toward him, gazing at him with tenderness and determination. "But you're not. He didn't break you, Rick. I still see you. Through all this pain and fear, I still see you. You'll make it through this. We will make it through this. We have to."
She stood in front of him, reaching up to cup his bearded cheek. He reactively flinched until the warmth of her caress pierced through his cold shell of terror, soothing his pain, easing his fear. Tears welled in his eyes. He could feel her love in her touch, love that he didn't deserve, love that would keep him alive, love that would push them forward.
"Rick," she said softly, commanding his eyes to open.
He looked upon her. He could see a reflection of his fear yet a light of hope burned brightly in her eyes. He desperately latched on to it, his soul clinging to her as if clutching to a buoy in the middle of a murky, violent sea of despair. She was his salvation. So as long as his body drew breath, he would do everything to keep that alive. Her hope was his.
She searched his eyes. "This. This isn't how it ends. We don't end like this," she said firmly.
Tears spilled down his cheeks silently as he nodded, holding onto her steady gaze. He hoarsely repeated, "We don't."
She nodded, the tears she'd been holding back now slipping down her cheeks, and onto their boots, mixing with his, washing away at the grime that stained the worn leather. They would make it through this. Tomorrow was nearly here and the future would soon come after. This was not the end. This was not their end.
Hi all!
So I'm still coping with that premiere and this is what came of it. I hope it helped to read as much as it helped to write.
I'll be updating my other stories soon but it's just been really rough to put down words that weren't sad as fuck. Inspiration was marred by sorrow and I'm still working through it.
On a positive note, I've joined the Richonne Just Desserts team on Tumblr so expect to see some of my humble attempts at writing there. :)
Hope to hear from you soon!
Your mournful writer,
semul