A/N: We have come to the conclusion of our story. We want to thank Afilmmefatale for tackling this prompt on her own. We also want to thank jojoindi-blog one more time for her amazing prompt request. As always please check out our writer's other stories on her FF page and leave those reviews, they are appreciated.

-We're The Ones Who Write

Chapter 3

Rick and Michonne rode alone in a midsize van filled to the brim with newly acquired supplies. They followed behind a black sedan carrying the three other people who had accompanied them on the prosperous run.

Things had been slightly awkward between them since the kiss. One minute he would catch her checking him out and the next she would go out of her way to avoid him. He probably should have kept his distance. In some weird way, he felt as though he was being disloyal to the Michonne from his time. But here she was - the woman he would come to trust more than anyone in the world - sitting three feet away from him, and all he wanted to do was kiss and feel this version of her; this Michonne free from the torment that had connected them, and that sometimes awakened her in a cold sweat.

He tried his best to focus on the real reason he was there. Rick had been living with Michonne for fours days now and still had no idea when the attack, which could result in André's death, would take place. To avoid altering the future any more than necessary, he had decided to wait until the attack to save André - and Mike - from death. Only then could he be sure that he'd done as Carl had directed.

Since his time in the camp, he and Michonne had gone on several runs together. He put in twice the effort to ensure they returned to the camp in record time, just in case that day was the one of the attack. Each time they'd returned home to find André safe and sound. Rick would keep watch for hours, to ensure there was no sign of a horde on the horizon. While he'd been open with Michonne about being from the future, he had yet to reveal his true reasons for being there. Her knowing the truth about André would likely cause more harm than good.

Rick concentrated on the road ahead. They were quickly losing light as the sun gradually dipped further below the horizon. They rode in silence. If he knew her in the past as well as he did in the future, she was letting guilt about their kiss lead the way. Though he'd assessed early on that she and Mike were hardly in any sort of relationship, her ex was André's father. There might still be some feelings of attachment there.

"Mike moved out today," she said, breaking the silence. "I just thought you should know."

"I already knew," Rick said. He'd heard them arguing from his room in the basement.

"Of course," she said to herself. "You know everything."

He looked over at her, aware of the sudden distance between them. He pulled over to the side of the road and cut the engine.

"What's wrong?" she asked, grabbing her katana. When he'd found her in the pawn shop, the katana was one of the first things he spotted when looking for a weapon to toss to her. In only a few days, it had become like a second skin and she never went anywhere without it. She practiced with the weapon for hours at a time, André sometimes practicing along with her, using a stick in place of a sword.

"We need to talk about the kiss. About everything."

She looked ahead. "The others are going to be worried."

"We got done two hours early. They can wait." He took her hand in his, rubbing his thumb across her skin. "I came back for a reason. In the future, my son is dying."

"Is he our son?" she asked, her eyes wide.

Rick chuckled. "Well, you're his mother, but you aren't related by blood."

She nodded slowly, staring into space again. "You came back to save him."

"Yes. It's a long story, but we - you and me - learn that the key to saving him is in the past."

She turned to face him. "So, what is it? How do we save him?"

He loved that even though she'd never met Carl, she was fully invested in fighting for his life. Rick felt a twinge of guilt for not telling her the truth about André. She trusted him and telling her now might cause him to lose that trust. "It's not something you need to know now. I'll tell you soon."

"Ok.".

He cradled her cheek, caressing her silky skin. "Thank you for trusting me."

Michonne's eyes grew even wider. This time she made the first move. She unbuckled her seatbelt and hopped into this lap, straddling him. Her kiss was fervent and sweet like the chocolate pudding she'd shared with André before they'd left for their run. Her passion stirred his desire.

Telling himself they had more than enough time to spare, he lowered his hands, gripping her full hips. She pulled her t-shirt over her head. He kissed the space between her breasts, inhaling her spicy scent. She ran her fingers through his curls, rubbing her groin against the bulge in his jeans. He pulled down the cups of her bra, exposing her silky smooth breasts.

"Ahhh," she cried out, when he sucked on her nipple with just the amount of pressure he knew she liked. She unbuckled his jeans, sliding her hand down the front of his boxers.

"Michonne," he breathed, as she stroked his length, making him harder by the second.

She lifted herself out of his lap, clumsily removing her pants and then her cotton panties. He freed his cock from his jeans, aching for her. He held her eyes, full of desire and need, as she spread her legs and lowered herself onto his cock.

"Fuck," she moaned, as her tight core enveloped him. She slid down easily, wet and ready. He thrust into her as she gyrated her hips, the van creaking with their efforts.

"Shit," he said, when her muscles tightened around him.

"I'm coming," she yelled, clamping down on his cock as she orgasmed.

He cried out as he exploded, a stream of cum squirting deep inside of her. The sound of heavy breathing filled the van.

"I love you," Rick said, the words coming as easily to him as they always did after they made love.

Michonne laughed. "Why am I not freaked out by that? I've known you less than a week."

Rick kissed her deeply, enjoying the salty and sweet taste of her. "Because you love me too."

Michonne kissed him back, not affirming her love for him, but not denying it either. "I'll definitely have to borrow those condoms for the next time."

-#-

Michonne laughed as she watched Rick spin in circles with André on his shoulders. Her son giggled, one tiny hand clinging to Rick's curls and the other gripping his forehead. This man not only had the ability to make her melt with one touch, but to warm her heart in the deepest way.

Tonight was a celebration. The stores of canned food they'd found on this run would last them well through the fall and coming winter. They'd all gathered in her backyard to partake in a feast of pork and beans, peaches, green beans and other goodies. Tomorrow they would take inventory, but tonight they would eat to their heart's content.

Because of Rick, they'd found and loaded the supplies in record time, returning to the camp a lot sooner than expected. Without him, they might still be out on the road during the most dangerous time to travel. Each day she grew more grateful for his presence and assistance, hoping that his "mission" would involve him staying with them for the long-term.

After their sexy rendezvous in the van, all she could think of was making love to him again. Granted, it had been months since she'd had sex, but sex with Rick was like nothing she'd ever experienced in her life. It left her aching for more than just his dick.

"You're making a fool of yourself," Mike said, suddenly by her side.

She sighed, not in the mood for another fight. "And how am I doing that?"

"This man," he said, nodding to Rick, "shows up out of nowhere and you invite him to stay in our house. And then you kick me out. How do you think that looks?"

"Looks to who? Erica?" Michonne had found out the woman had been spreading rumors about her, Rick and Mike being involved in some sort of sordid ménage à trois, that had resulted in her breaking up with the latter. It was true Michonne had feelings for Rick. She had this almost primal connection with him. He'd opened a door in her heart that she thought had closed forever. Maybe it had to do with him saving her life, or claiming to be her lover from some distant future, but she was falling in love with him.

"He's just using you. Once he gets what he wants, he'll be on to the next woman."

"Why do you care, Mike? You're the one who used our fight months ago as an excuse to sleep with Erica." Mike at least had the decency to look guilty. "Yeah, you didn't think I knew about that." She shook her head. "Look, you decided a long time ago who you would be in this new world. The only reason we've stayed together this long was so André could have his father around, even if you're only present half the time."

"That's not fair, Michonne. You have no idea what I've been going through. Not everyone can adapt to death as easily as you. Sometimes I think you even enjoy it."

"Everything I do is for that little boy. I don't have the choice to opt out like you. We move in this world in different ways, I get it. I accept it. And you need to accept that I'm not willing to sacrifice what little happiness I can find in this world, to spare your ego."

Mike grabbed her arm roughly. "Who do you think you are, talking to me like that?"

She tried to pull away, but he dug his fingers into her arm, making her wince. Michonne was used to his outbursts, but this was the first time he'd gotten physical with her. "Let go of me."

"Make me," he said, his bloodshot eyes as cold as ice.

"You heard the lady," Rick said, appearing by her side. "Get your damn hands off of her."

Mike flung her arm away, causing her to lose her balance. Rick caught Michonne, positioning himself between her and Mike. He looked up at Mike. "I'd rather not deck you in front of your son. So go cool off somewhere."

Michonne moved from behind Rick. She needed to put an end to this before things got out of hand. She placed herself between the men. "Enough. It's over." Michonne addressed Mike. "You put your hands on me like that again, you better be prepared to fight me."

"Michonne, I'm sorry-" Mike began.

A scream in the distance drew their attention. The festivities came to a halt, everyone growing quiet all at once. The barely audible moans of walkers drifted their way. The threat Michonne feared the most had finally come knocking.

-#-

This was the moment Rick had been waiting for. The camp was under attack and it was up to him to ensure that André survived.

Michonne moved into action. She unsheathed the katana strapped to her back and addressed the group of terrified adults and children. "You know the drill. Account for everyone in your party and move to your assigned areas. No light and no noise. Move!" There was no need to tell them twice. The people gathered supplies and children and scattered. "Marsha and Steve - you're with me." Marsha and her husband joined Michonne, armed and ready to defend their camp.

Michonne scooped André into her arms. The perceptive child looked on the verge of tears. "It's okay, Peanut. Everything's going to be okay. You're going to stay with daddy, okay?"

Mike reached for André, but Rick stepped between them. "I can't let you do that," Rick said, holding his magnum by his side.

"Are you really trying to stand between me and my son?" Mike yelled. André began to cry, holding tighter onto Michonne.

"We don't have time for this, Mike! Rick can stay with André and you can come with me. We're going to need as many fighters as we can get." Mike looked completely terrified at the prospect of facing walkers.

"Not up for the fight?" Rick prodded. If Mike went with Michonne, he could better ensure her son's safety. And it was highly unlikely Mike would come back alive.

As Rick expected, Mike's pride got the better of him. "Fine," he said, though he made no effort to hide his fear. Michonne handed André to Rick. She gave Mike a gun.

"Be safe out there," Rick said. He patted André's back to try and calm him down.

She kissed him. He gripped her waist with one hand, pulling her close, not caring that Mike was watching them.

She ended the kiss, pressing her forehead against his. "Just take care of my baby."

"You know I will."

He watched her leave with Mike, suddenly fearful he would never see her again.

-#-

Rick finally got André to calm down after returning home. Singing All the Pretty Little Horses, the nursery rhyme he'd heard Michonne sing so many times in the days they'd been together, had done the trick. They were in the basement. Underground, the sounds of gunfire were dampened.

André remained awake - proving to be as vigilant as his mother - but rested his head on Rick's chest as he sat on the futon, cradling the child in his arms. He wanted to be out there on the frontlines with Michonne, fighting beside her like they'd done so many times before. But keeping André safe was his priority. It was the whole reason he'd come this far. It was the only way to save Carl.

Rick heard the front door open and footsteps rush across the living room. He grabbed his gun, preparing to face any and all threats.

"André!" Mike called from above.

He listened for another set of footsteps - for Michonne - but heard none. Rick slipped André into the playpen behind the futon, out of sight. Mike rushed down the basement steps, immediately spotting Rick. He was covered in blood and gore, his expression distraught and frantic.

Rick stood, holding his magnum at his side. "Where's Michonne?"

"She's dead," Mike said, his face twisted in pain. "The walkers got her and they're heading this way."

Rick stumbled, like he'd had the wind knocked out of him. She can't be dead. Michonne always survives.

And then he noticed it. The moans of the walkers were closer. A gunshot rang out. It sounded like it came from the house next door. Walkers would be on top of them soon.

"Where's my son?" Mike asked.

Rick noticed the pistol in his hand. The one Michonne had given him. "How do you know she's dead?" Rick asked.

"She was surrounded, man! By like twenty of those things. I tried to help her, but there were too many."

Rick could barely see through the blinding rage. "So you just left her out there? Alone?"

"I couldn't help her." Mike began to sob. "She's always been the one to protect us, to keep us alive, and I couldn't save her."

Rick aimed his gun straight ahead, his sights on Mike. He remembered Carl's words, that Mike must survive, but his anger blinded him. Mike aimed his gun at Rick, his hand shaky.

"Rick!" Michonne yelled from out of nowhere.

A spark. A gunshot. Blinding pain. Rick brought his hand to his stomach, the source of the pain. He pulled his hand away to find it covered in blood. Michonne screamed as Rick went down. André wailed in the background.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Mike said in a state of panic.

And then Michonne was there with him, propping his head in her lap, her beautiful, blood-splattered face in full view. "No," she whispered.

Rick coughed, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. "You're alive."

Tears streamed down her cheeks, her nose runny. She pressed her hands against the wound. "I can't stop the bleeding."

"It doesn't even hurt anymore," Rick said. "The walkers?"

"We got most of them. The others are handling the rest. We're safe."

Rick nodded, his vision slowly drowning in black. "Everything's happened as it had to."

"Please don't leave me."

He had to tell her the truth, before it was too late. "The reason I came here was for André. To save him."

"What do you mean?"

"In the other timeline, my time, he died during an attack on the camp. This attack."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to put you or him at risk. I'm sorry for lying to you."

Michonne shook her head. "I don't care. My son is alive and that's all that matters."

"I almost failed though. I almost killed Mike."

"What?" Mike squeaked.

"I thought you were dead. And I couIdn't handle it," Rick said, quickly fading.

"Shh, it's okay," she said, smoothing his hair.

"André's blood is the cure."

"What does that mean? How?"

Rick felt the last of life slipping away, his eyes drooping.

"Rick!" Michonne yelled, roughly shaking him.

"Don't worry." He raised his bloody hand to her cheek. "There's no way we don't end up together."

She bent down and kissed him. "I won't forget you."

"You better not." And then Rick slipped away.

-#-

Present Day

Rick opened his eyes to glowing, neon yellow stars. He sat up, his body stiff and aching, as though he'd been lying on the floor for hours. He was back in the living room.

"Carl," he croaked. "Michonne."

Only silence greeted him. Rick stood slowly, getting his bearings. It was night. It was the same as before. Nothing had changed.

"Michonne," he called out, looking around for her. When he looked above the fireplace, he gasped. In place of the hooks for her katana was a painting he'd never seen. "It can't be," he whispered, suddenly noticing other differences. The flower vase, the mahogany bookshelf, the brass sun-framed mirror - all the things she'd added to their home, had disappeared.

He looked to his left. On the couch lay Carl's motionless form, exactly how it had been before he'd left. His breathing was barely perceptible. Carl was still dying. Except now, Michonne was not with them.

It had all been for nothing. As far as he could tell, his actions had only erased Michonne from his life. He was so distraught, he ignored the sound of a vehicle pulling up outside. The firm knock on the door finally caught his attention. Wiping away his tears, he unholstered his gun, before moving slowly to the front door.

"Rick, are you there?" a muffled voice asked.

Michonne?

He whipped open the door to find Michonne on the other side. She was different though. The locs were gone, replaced by a cropped haircut accentuated by tight curls. She wore blue denim jeans and a tan blazer over a white button-down shirt. The only thing that remained the same was the katana strapped to her back. And that beautiful smile of hers.

He almost didn't notice the young boy holding her hand and the man standing beside her. The kid was around seven or eight years old, with Michonne's soft nose and the eyes of the man accompanying them.

André. Mike.

Michonne smiled. "I hope we're not too late."

-#-

Mike emptied a syringe of pinkish liquid into Carl's right arm.

"What now?" Rick asked.

"Now, we wait," Michonne said gently.

André rubbed the colorful bandaid on the crook of his elbow. "It's Spongebob, Mommy."

"Mmm, hmm," Michonne said, placing two fingers on Carl's wrist to check his pulse. It was weak, but still there. She lifted his eyelid and shone a small flashlight in his eye. His pupil constricted slightly.

"He hasn't turned yet," Rick said, astonished.

"No, he's still human," Michonne said. "We found you just in time." She had begun to lose hope that they would find him at all, especially after all these years and failed leads.

"Is he going to make it?" Rick asked.

"I think so. He was on the cusp of death, but he's fighting. He's strong like you. All we can do now is wait and hope the serum works."

"I'm hungry," André said.

"Help yourself to whatever's in the kitchen," Rick said.

"Thanks, for everything," Mike said. "And sorry about shooting you. I was a piece of shit back then."

"No hard feelings. It seemed to work out for the both of us in the end," Rick said.

"Come on, buddy," Mike said, taking André's hand. "Let's give your mom and Mr. Grimes some privacy."

Rick and Michonne sat in silence for a few moments, just taking each other in. She had a glow about her, which made her look even more beautiful. She placed a hand on his thigh. "I thought I'd never see you again," she said. Rick looked down at her hand and laced his fingers with hers. Her heart skipped a beat.

He stared at her with red-rimmed eyes. "Thank you."

"You traveled across time to save my son, now I get the chance to save yours."

"What happened, after I died?"

"Well, I had to leave your body, to check on the rest of the camp. When I came back, you were gone." She laughed. "Mike had a fit. He'd been in the house the entire time."

"So I vanished?"

"I don't know exactly, but you were nowhere to be found. I even traveled to the hospital you mentioned, but your room was empty when I got there."

"I must have somehow ended up where I started, to be here now."

"I don't know. But someone, or something, was at work."

"How did you end up finding Alexandria? I don't think I ever told you the specifics."

"After I figured out what you meant about André's blood being the cure, we hit the road in search of other communities. Mike kicked the drugs and traveled with us. He found the doctor who taught us how to develop serum from André's blood and we've been healing people from bites ever since. I asked about you everywhere I went, with no luck. And then we found the Oceansiders, who knew exactly who you were and where to find you."

"And that brought you here to me? To us?"

She nodded.

"So you and Mike?" Rick asked.

"Just co-parents." He looked relieved.

"You were right," she said. "There's no way we don't end up together."

"I love you," Rick said without hesitation.

And Michonne said the words she'd been waiting to say for years. "I love you, Rick."

He caressed her cheek. "I thought I'd lost you. I can't do this without you."

"Dad?" a voice croaked, almost inaudibly.

"Carl!" Rick said. The teen opened his eye. It was as blue as Rick's and sparkled with life. "I'm here, son," Rick said, crying.

"Me too," Michonne said, holding on tight to Rick, planning to never let go again.

-#-

Epilogue

"You ready?" Carl asked, as they watched a caravan of black SUVs driving toward them. Rick stood in the road with Carl, Michonne, André and Mike, a hand on his holstered magnum. "You won't need it. The fight ends today. We've got a cure now."

"I hope you're right," Rick said. But he was prepared to put a bullet in Negan's head if he looked at any of them the wrong way.

Michonne slipped her hand in his. "Carl's right. I've dealt with people like Negan before. Once they realize we can fight the dead, they tend to choose preserving life over taking it."

"He's a monster. You can't believe a word he says."

"But I believe in Carl," Michonne said. "And I believe in you. You wouldn't be here if you didn't think it were possible."

"All we've got is hope," Carl said. "And sometimes that's all we need."

"You two are already teaming up on me?" Rick asked, feigning annoyance. They'd all been together a little over two weeks, but Michonne and Carl were on their way to becoming fast friends.

"Get with the program, old man," Michonne said. She'd joked about how gray he'd gone since she'd last seen him. Rick watched as the vehicles came to a stop in front of them.

"Here we go," Carl said. "This is where it all begins."