I think about a world where Lori didn't die during childbirth; where she was still around when Michonne showed up at those gates. And you know what I got?
"You're still keeping your distance."
It wasn't an accusation, so much as a statement. And it was true–Rick thought that things might change after Lori had the baby. It didn't. Fact is, Rick knew without a shadow of a doubt that she wasn't his. The damage, from start to finish, was irreparable, just like their marriage. Still, they were his responsibility. Everyone at the prison was.
Slowly, Rick turned and faced his wife. "Where's the baby?" he asked, looking just past her shoulder.
Lori sighed, staring at him. "You're not looking at me? Still?"
Rick opened his mouth to say something, than snapped it shut.
"You look at her, though," Lori commented, a bit derisively, but also a bit sad.
His brow furrowed, than slowly he let his eyes travel to Lori's.
"Do you even know how much you look at her?"
"What do you want me to say, Lori? What…" Rick turned, sucking his teeth. "I killed my best friend. My brother. And you–you just had his baby."
Lori shook her head. "We don't know that."
"Yeah? Well I've also looked at her. She has his eyes, for chrissakes. I don't know how to come back from that. Any of it."
"What, so you just move on to the next woman who shows up?"
"I haven't…nothing's happened," he quietly said.
"But you want it to." That was an accusation. Rick stared at her full on before looking away, not denying it.
"I don't…I don't know what it is. But yes, I've noticed her. Hell, I can't not notice her. And I…I wanna see where it goes," he confessed, his voice soft.
"What are you…how is that supposed to work, Rick?" she asked, incredulous.
Rick looked down at his hand, his ring finger, twisting the band around as he thought. Finally he took it off. He walked over to her, and placed it in her hand. "I'm gonna see," he murmured walking away.
… …
"I just don't understand," Lori sniffed. Carol rubbed her back gently. "She's not even his type. What's so special about her?" she asked. "I mean, if that had been like Maggie, or–"
"Maggie?" Carol asked with a hint of disgust. "She's like…well not a daughter, but like a sister or something. And she is still with Glenn, so–"
Lori shook her head. "I meant, if it was someone who looked like a Maggie, I'd get it. Michonne is just…I don't like him sniffing around her."
Carol frowned. "Is it her, or is it anyone?"
"Both."
"So. Get him back," Carol said emphatically. "I still consider you the first lady of us. If you're Flotus, go on and get back your Potus."
"I don't know, Carol. It might be too late."
"Who knows?" Carol said. "Maybe he doesn't have a shot with her."
Lori wiped a stray tear. "I don't know about that. Pretty sure she's noticed him, too."
… …
She was keeping watch by the fence, the afternoon sun blazing its warmth on her face. Rick sidled up next to her, fingers hanging on the links of the fence, gazing down into the yard along with her.
"You know," he started. "I woke up into all of this. I was in a coma when it happened. I woke up, alone. Thought I was in hell, or going crazy, and couldn't decide which was worse. I was alone for…four or five hours before I saw another living soul, but it felt like…felt like years." He looked over at her, to find that she was looking intently at him. He smiled. "How long was it for you? When you were out there alone?"
Michonne exhaled, putting the rifle down, linking her fingers into the chain link fence, mirroring Rick. "I dunno. Too long."
Rick nodded, getting it.
"Felt like a lifetime, like that had been the only life I'd ever known. Andrea made me remember…" She trailed off, remembering.
"Michonne? I wanna know more. About you."
Michonne half scoffed and half laughed. "But Rick, you're…" She glanced at his ringless finger. Brow furrowed, she touched its nakedness with the tip of her index finger. "What happened?"
"I gave it back. Not just because I wanted…it was for me, too. We weren't working. We don't work. And that was before all this. Before the world ended It was foolish to think–" Rick shook his head. "Carl was shot, and it was touch and go. Know what she said to me?"
Michonne looked at him, quietly, curious.
"She said, maybe it would just be best if we let him go."
Michonne had a strange look on her face–it was a cross between incredulity and anger, confusion and sorrow. Rick felt compelled to put a hand on her shoulder, so he did.
"You okay?"
Michonne wiped at her eyes with the back of her gloved hand. "A parent doesn't give up. No matter what happens, you don't quit. You just don't."
Rick stared at her, curious, knowing there was more, but sensing not to press her. Instead, he offered, "I agree."
Michonne turned back to the fence, hanging her fingers in the chain links once more. "So…this getting to know you business. How does it work?" she asked.
Rick shrugged, shifting ever so slightly nearer to her. "I guess just this–talking, asking questions. Maybe a walk?"
"Or go on a run," she added with a small smile.
Rick nodded. "Yeah. We can do that, too.
… …
It stayed innocent for a long while. They talked all the time–on patrol, in the cell blocks, a lot of time just talking and walking. Then one day, as she gently laughed at one of his somewhat corny jokes, he took her hand, holding it. She smiled at him, holding his back. They stared at each other for a moment, and then continued their walk along the perimeter, walkers snarling in the background. But the sun was shining, and Michonne was smiling, and everything was okay.
… …
"I want Michonne. Turn her over, and this all goes away."
Rick stared at the Governor, stunned he was asking this of him. Then suddenly Rick felt ill, and he was sure he looked it, too.
"Is she worth it? One woman? Worth, all of those lives at the prison? Is she?"
Rick didn't even have to second guess that. Not that he could trust anything the Governor said anyway. Lies, all of it. A poor attempt to make Rick lose his humanity by turning over Michonne, only to kill them all later anyway.
Philip really didn't know who he was dealing with.
"You're not considering his offer?" Her voice was devoid of any emotion whatsoever, and she wouldn't look at him.
Rick paused, squinting his eyes as he stared at her. "Are you fucking with me right now?" he asked, appalled.
Michonne looked at him. "About this? No."
"Look, he was probably lying anyway. And even if he weren't…even if the deal was real…" Rick brushed the apple of her cheek with his thumb as his fingers cupped the back of her neck. He swallowed. "I'm not letting you go."
Michonne's lip quivered a bit, but she was smiling. "No?"
"Of course not," Rick stated huskily, staring into her eyes. He paused a beat, waiting to see if she would look away. She didn't. He dipped his head down, kissing her firmly on the lips. She accepted it, returning the kiss full on. Wrapping her arms around him as she let him deepen the kiss, she realized she wasn't letting go, either.
… …
"I hope you're happy." Though Lori's tone was derisive, her face stiff with anger, Rick couldn't help but smile. As suspected, the Governor was not a man of his word [and it had been no surprise to Rick] and attacked the prison. His anxiousness had made him sloppy. Rick had thought about the way he had looked at him when he asked that Rick deliver Michonne, and he thought about what Merle had said–all of the things he might like to do to her, and it put a white, hot anger in his belly.
Rick couldn't let him leave, and he didn't. He set a trap, and Philip stumbled right into it. Two bullets to the chest and one to the head, and it was done.
"You know what? I am. We still have this place, each other, and Woodbury, too."
"You went to war, Rick. All for one woman and–"
"Hey," he cut in, his tone sharp. "That was for us all. We had no choice but to fight. And we won–we're all still here."
"Yeah, but we're not together," she said in a hushed toned. "I want us to be together, Rick. A family again. I want it like how things used to be."
Rick frowned. "How thangs used to…you mean you accusing me of not loving my family? Berating me for not expressing myself in the manner of your preference? You can't go back, Lori. Hell, that isn't something I'd want to go back to even if I could."
"Then I think…one of us should live in Woodbury. I don't want to do this, here. Seeing you with her, holding her hand–"
"And I'm sorry it bothers you." Though he was sincere about it, his tone still said, 'but deal with it.' "If you want to leave, then I understand. But Carl stays here."
"What?" she asked, breathless.
"You can do what you want. But my son? He stays with me. There will be no debate about that." Rick walked briskly past her, the conversation over as far as he was concerned. "Let me know what you decide to do," he called out over his shoulder. Rick had made up his mind; what was done was done.
… …
The moon hung low in the sky, bathing everything in an iridescent, blue light. She leaned on the railing of the watch tower, staring up at it. He leaned next to her, though his eyes weren't on the moon.
"It's beautiful tonight," she said.
Rick smiled. "Yeah. It is."
Michonne smirked. "I meant the moon. And the stars."
"Yeah, those are beautiful, too."
They both chuckled, then Rick took her hand, kissing the back of it.
"Rick?" she asked, her voice hesitant.
"What's wrong?"
She shook her head. "Nothing I just…I want to tell you everything. It's scary, knowing that…but I do."
"I get it. I do," he assured. "I feel the same way. What comes next…now it's just us. No more roadblocks," he said, looking at her.
She chanced a peak, and was immediately caught in the intensity of his gaze. Like celestial bodies, they drifted toward one another, gently touching; firmly kissing; a kiss that intensified as the seconds melded into moments–one moment. This moment.
Smiling with laughs intermingling with giggles, they continued to kiss as they backed into the tower, sinking down to the floor, exploring as they undressed each other. It was a night of discovery; a preview of what was to come for them. The chapter may have closed, but that book was nowhere near finished.
