Thanks for all the amazing reviews of the last chapter. Sorry about the long delay. I meant to post this since December, but things got really busy and here we are in February. The holiday season is long gone, but I'll finish this up. Christmas in February!


Chapter 4

"We're here," Michonne announced, pulling into the driveway of her childhood home.

The large Victorian-style house with a painted wooden sign outside, welcoming visitors to the cozy hostelry was the last place he saw Michonne before their less than amicable separation. As if watching through a window in his memory, he saw his conflicted younger self darting across the lawn in the darkness of the night. "I haven't seen this place in years."

In the years following their breakup he was resolute in his determination to resist everything Michonne related. That included avoiding driving down the street she lived on.

"Yeah," Michonne snorted. "It sure feels like years since we been here, huh? You must miss that good 'ol Dubois home cooking. I know I do."

They exited the car and Rick began hauling the luggage out of the car while Michonne stared up at the house with it's snow-covered rooftop and window panes. "It's so good to be home." She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and smiled up at the sky.

He hoisted a carry on bag in each arm and one over his shoulder as they approached the Prussian blue house.

Even from outside, it was obvious that the DuBois family were holiday enthusiasts.

The evergreen tree outside the house was decorated in a manner that would rival the Market Square tree. Christmas lights lined the outside of the house and he was sure their garish light would attract the attention of all passerby's once they were turned on that night. As they walked up the pathway lined with snowflake markers that lead to the front steps, they passed a family of glittering champagne reindeer, planted firmly on the snow capped lawn.

The garland draped front doors burst open and the couple was greeted with a high pitched squeal. "Look at my baby!" Marie, Michonne's mother, opened her arms to embrace a bouncing Michonne.

Michonne enthusiastically returned the hug. "Hey Mom!"

"You even got a little more meat on you. Look at those cheeks!"

It was a truly baffling encounter for Rick because the last time he was inside that house the older DuBois woman was—not so kindly—asking him to leave after the commotion of him and Michonne's breakup.

"What's going on in here?" Michonne's father, James, had asked, bursting into the room with his wife hot on his heel.

At the time, Michonne refused to speak another word. She crossed her and looking away from him. There was hurt in her eyes.

"Rick," Marie had said calmly. "I don't know why you're here at this hour, but I need you to leave my house. Out!"

Now, it was supposedly four years after the fact and all was well because after she finished showering Michonne with motherly love, she pulled him into a hug for his share of love.

"So good to see you two after all these months," she said, looking them over with a proud smile. "We have a lot of catching up to do. Everyone is here already. They're all inside."

The house was filled with loud voices, laughter and music. They walked down the familiar hallway, leading to the large family room reserved for gatherings like this one. Michonne's sister was there along with three other family members he didn't recognize and their two young children.

I'll be home for christmas;

You can plan on me.

"Is that my favorite sister?" Sasha called out to her only sister.

Michonne did a little twirl as she removed the coat that covered her oversized sweater. "In the flesh."

Rick watched in astonished silence as the sisters embraced and was stunned silent and almost immobile when Sasha wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a warm embrace.

Christmas eve will find me

Where the love light gleams.

I'll be home for christmas

If only in my dreams.

There was a flurry of hugs and congratulations. He learned that the three other family members were Michonne's uncle, her cousin, and his wife and two children. Apparently they all attended his and Michonne's wedding.

"How was Belize?" Michonne asked her adventurous sister who had just returned from her semester abroad.

"Amazing! I visited The Great Blue Hole while I was there. You know that was on my bucket list."

"That's really cool. I can't wait to see the pictures."

"You guys should really consider Belize for your honeymoon, when you decide to have a real one," Sasha said, nudging Rick's side. "Did you guys find a new place yet?"

Michonne's hand instinctively moved to her slightly protruding stomach. "We're working on it...Sort of."

"Alright alright. Everybody settle down. Let's give Michonne and Rick a chance to get settled in. We can fawn over them later," Michonne's father announced.

"Yeah, I've got a crazy amount of energy in the morning and then comes the sudden extreme tiredness and then the crash," Michonne laughed.

"You know the way," her mother smiled. "Are your parents still coming, Rick?"

Parents?

He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He was still trying to wrap his head around this picture perfect life and the big happy family.

"Yeah, you said your parents will be here tomorrow. Maggie and Glenn too, right?" Michonne asked, looking up at him as if he was supposed to know the answer to that question.

He knew his headache and confusing behavior from earlier that day still had her worried.

"Yeah." There wasn't much else he could say since he hadn't the slightest idea what was happening or why his family was even coming. They were friendly, but certainly not close enough to celebrate the holidays together.

~OUACT~

"This is so strange," Rick commented as he looked out the window of Michonne's old bedroom. It was just as he remembered with its blue walls with gold trim.

The large desk by the window was bare with the exception of a small twinkling tabletop Christmas tree. Michonne kept it clear because when he would climb through the window from the lower level roof, he'd often knock things over, causing unwanted noise.

Michonne, who was sitting cross-legged in the center of her bed, looked up from the papers she was studiously flipping through. "What is?"

"They were always lecturing us about not moving too fast at our age and yet, here we are. We couldn't have moved faster. Four years later we're newly married with a kid on the way."

She winked. "Good thing we didn't listen, then."

"How are we gonna raise a baby in that tiny apartment?"

"You're the one that keeps saying we have five months to figure it all out," she said, attempting to mimic his voice and failing miserably. "Come lie down. You're still acting all loopy and it's bothering me."

"What's that?" He nodded toward the glossy papers in her hands.

She held the papers up, revealing they were flyers for the Festival of Lights. "We should go tonight if you're up to it. I have some last minute things I want to get and I have the perfect gift idea for the baby."

He couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm and the over-preparation that was characteristic for her. "It's not even born yet."

"He," she corrected, playfully narrowing her eyes at him.

"We found out the gender?" He blurted out.

"No," she said slowly, still eyeing him suspiciously. "They didn't get a clear view, remember?" She placed her hand on her stomach, covering the legs of the gingerbread man on her sweater. "He refused to change positions. Already stubborn like his father who refuses to get checked out by a doctor after hitting his head. Hopefully next time he cooperates and proves to you all that I'm right."

"Yeah. Hopefully."

Michonne gasped dramatically, placing a hand delicately on her chest. "Did you just agree with me? I'm sensing you're wavering on the whole it's a girl idea." She held out a hand, beckoning him over. "Come. Lie down with me. Maybe we both need a nap."

Rick walked over, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed. "What was the gift idea?"

"Mom said it's a customary thing to gift a baby with silver items, remember? We were talking about this the other night."

"Oh, wow. Is that something the parents do?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, but I really want to get him something. You said it was a good idea when I first brought it up. I'm thinking maybe some silver bangles or a rattle."

"You can get that online. Why do we have to go through that overcrowded festival to get it?"

"Alright, what's going on here?" she asked. "Everything out of your mouth is getting more and more bizarre. It's like you barely remember anything. Does your head still hurt?"

Rick placed his head in his hands. "I wish I knew what was going on too. Believe me, I'm just as confused as you are."

"Somehow, I find that hard to believe. You're confused, but I think our confusion is different," she said,uncrossing her legs and crawling to the edge of the bed where he sat. "Something's different here. Rick, I really think you should consider getting checked out by a doctor. You could have a head injury."

"Maybe you're right," he agreed. A head injury sounded more plausible than time travel and alternate dimensions. Although, if he did have a head injury the possibility of it being a dream while in a comatose state couldn't be ruled out. If this wasn't real, then any doctor he saw wouldn't be real either.

She ran a hand through his hair, resting her head on his shoulder. "So...do you still have a headache?"

"No. I feel pretty normal actually," he admitted. "Aside from the confusion." And the fact that none of this is real.

"I'll ask Mom if she can suggest anything," she said. "She always has a solution."

"How about we worry about that later." He looked over his shoulder, making eye contact with her. "I know you're tired. You woke up early and we drove all the way here. This doesn't feel like a pressing thing. I think I'm gonna get some fresh air for a bit. Get some rest, I'll be right back."

"If I can rest with this. You're worrying me."

He placed a kiss on her forehead. "Nothing to worry about. This isn't real and I'll be fine once I get some fresh air."

"Rick I—"

"I've just had a lot on my mind these past few weeks," he lied. "It's stress."

That didn't seem to ease her mind. "What has you stressed? Is it...oh God...Is that why you were talking about moving too fast? You think we moved too fast? Where is this coming from? I don't—"

"No, I have no idea if we moved too fast because it's not like I can see the future. I barely know what's happening now. I literally woke up in this life. Yesterday, I was single and just drifting through life and taking what comes at me and now today everything seems to have gone backwards and I'm married with a kid on the way."

Michonne didn't say anything. She just stared back at him impassively. "Okay, get some air if that's what you need," she finally said. "I don't want either of us to say something we'll regret and I think we're about to toe that line. We'll talk later."

She moved back to sit against the wooden headboard, crossing her arms across her chest.

That's how he knew this was too good to be true. Even in this dreamland, he was already beginning to shatter a seemingly perfect relationship.

"I'm sorry." He turned around attempting to make eye contact. "I um...I didn't mean that. I'm not mad at you and I don't have doubts about you. I'm just...it's a work thing, okay?"

She didn't respond.

"I feel like an asshole," he sighed. "I don't want you to be unhappy during your favorite holiday."

"You're sure you feel alright?" she asked.

"Completely fine."

"Then when you're ready, we can talk. If something is bothering you, I'm here and I'll listen."

Too perfect to be mine, he thought.

"Sorry about all that...out there stuff I just said. Ignore it. I didn't explain myself well, but don't worry. I will once I get back, okay? I need some water and some air."

She blew out a breath of air, shutting her eyes. "Get some air. There's always makeup sex." A trace of a smile was forming on her lips and it reminded him of the days when she never stayed upset with him for long. She always had the calm, rational mind and the positive outlook on life.

Far too perfect.

~OUACT~

When he slipped downstairs, he could hear the clamor of Michonne's family conversing over the loud Christmas. He easily bypassed any prying questions and slunk out the front door in a manner reminiscent of his teenage years.

"Headed out?" He heard Michonne's father before he saw him standing on the walkway, holding a large wire reindeer in his arms.

"Yeah...I just have a thing to…"

"Michonne sending you out on a snack run?" James guessed with an amused smile. "It happens to the best of us."

"Yeah," he chuckled, tensely.

"This guy fell over," James explained, referring to the reindeer in his arms. "The antlers crooked now." He looked around with a furrowed brow. "I just don't understand how. It's not even that windy out and I could have sworn that sucker was firmly planted into the ground."

"Must have been an unexpected gust," Rick offered, desperately wanting to bypass the mundane, but bizarre interaction with a man, who as far as he knew, could barely tolerate the sight of him.

"We'll I won't keep you. You probably want to get back before the family starts bouncing off the walls." James laughed at his own joke as he made his way around the side of the house. "I'm gonna go work some magic with super glue."

"Alright then."

Once Rick was in the car, he breathed a sigh of relief and took in a brief moment of what felt like sanity. The drive took a little longer than he intended, but Rick eventually located the bar, the last place where everything made sense.

When he opened the old wooden door as he had done the evening before, he was greeted with the scent of stale beer and peanuts again.

Johnny Cash was still singing about prison blues.

The bar was still deserted with the only patrons being a woman—she looked like the same one from before—fiddling with the jukebox and a man slumped over a table.

This time, Dale Horvath was standing behind the bar as if anticipating Rick's arrival. "Hey there, Rick! Good to see you back again. What can I get you?"

"Well, an explanation would be nice."

"What about? Got something on your mind?"

Rick began pacing in front of the bar, gathering his bearings. "I was here yesterday afternoon. Do you remember that? Please tell me you remember that because feel like I'm losing my mind here."

"Yes, you came in and sat right there." He pointed to a wooden bar stool across from him. "We had some Moonshine."

Rick's eyes widened and he licked his suddenly dry lips. "That's right," he exclaimed, pointing a finger at the man. "That's exactly right."

Dale smiled. "Exactly right."

"And I was telling you about a woman. She was someone I used to date when we both lived here years ago. I told you the story."

Dale nodded knowingly. "The one that got away."

"Alright." Rick held up a hand. "Here's the thing. I don't remember anything after that. The last thing I remember is grabbing the second drink and I remember getting a really strange feeling. It was almost as if my limbs were stretching. I don't know how to explain it, but it was odd. One second I was here then the next I was waking up a whole state away."

Dale stroked his chin, carefully observing Rick. "That is strange," he finally said in agreement. "Do you remember what you did this morning?"

"Noe, this is going to sound wild, but I do remember," he said. "The thing is, what happened this morning can't be real. Yesterday, it was 2018 and now today when I woke up I find out it's apparently 2010 and I'm married to the woman I told you about. We even have a baby on the way. Everything points to the year being 2010, except my memory of last night and the past twelve years!"

"Fascinating!" There was a glimmer of intrigue in Dale's eyes, but Rick saw no disbelief or shock in them.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Rick groaned, throwing his head back. "I must still be dreaming."

"I certainly hope not," Dale laughed. "Then, I'd be dreamwalking." He wore a contemplative expression. "On second thought, I don't think I'd be opposed to that."

"I just want to know what's going on an I was hoping you might know something that could help me out here,"Rick continued. "Either I'm dreaming, in a coma somewhere or I time traveled and entered some other timeline, but nothing has made sense all day. I don't know what's happening."

"Tell me something Rick," Dale said, unbothered by Rick's distress. "What is it that you want in life?"

"What is it that I want...What? What does that have to do with anything?" he asked, dumbfounded at the man talking to him like a therapist would. "Did you this? Am I hallucinating? What did you put in that drink?"

"Nothing." Dale shrugged. "I just found it on the shelf and I drank it too. Now tell me about your marriage to this woman who got away."

"This is…" Rick held his head in disbelief and started pacing again. The bar was now empty, the jukebox woman and the passed out drunk man having disappeared. "What year is it?"

"Like you said," He snapped his fingers together as if trying to recall it. "2010."

"So, what? I time travelled?" It sounded even more absurd uttering it out loud. "Was it 2018 when I spoke to you yesterday?"

Dale shrugged again. "Depends on how you look at things. Compared to yesterday, how do you feel about your life now?"

"I don't know! I've barely lived it. Sure, I wish things had gone differently with Michonne. Four years ago, I showed up at her house and I fucked everything up, because I thought it was the right thing to do," he said through gritted teeth. "If we were meant to be together we would have. We would have found our way back to each other."

"And you didn't?"

"She's engaged," he shouted, getting exasperated. "At least, the Michonne from yesterday was engaged. Today's Michonne is eight years younger and married to me, who is also eight years younger. I guess we never broke up, then."

"And you're happier."

"I don't know that. This could be a doomed relationship for all I know. I've known that Michonne for all of six hours."

"Just because things didn't work out the first time, it doesn't mean that things can't flip in your favor."

Rick stopped pacing and slowly turned to face the man across the bar. "You said that yesterday," he said, recalling the man's cryptic words. "Right after I dropped that coin you gave me. Then I started feeling…" As if on autopilot, he reached into his pocket, finding the coin. He was certain he didn't put it there, considering the fact that he now wore a completely different set of clothes from yesterday.

"How do you feel about your life now?"

Rick chuckled humorlessly. "Honestly, it feels too good to be true, which is how I know it's not real. It can't all be a bed of roses. This is a fantasy. None of it is real. In real life, things are bound to go south eventually. Either we end up resenting each other, in therapy, or divorced. Nobody stays happy in a relationship forever. That's why I don't bother with them."

"Or maybe Christmas is bringing out the Grinch in you."

Rick ignored the comment. "So, this isn't a dream?"

He shrugged. "What do you think it is?"

"I don't know. What is this place?"

"I think, based on your description, it might be a possible reality and it's completely up to you if you want to go through with it. This is obviously your show."

"Why is this happening?"

"I think that's a question you should ask yourself. Like I said, this is all you." Dale poured himself a drink, taking a swig. "It always amazes me how little people see with their eyes. Once you open your heart instead of just your eyes, you will see more than the result." He opened his arms, looking around the room. "You'll see the reason."

"If this is some kind of test or a do-over, why didn't I end up back at that night?"

There was a twinkle of amusement in Dale's eye as a smile spread across his face. "Where's the fun in that? I don't think that's sometime you really wanted to go."

Dale's odd phrasing didn't escape Rick's notice. "How is that even possible? It makes no sense."

"That's the big question, isn't it?" Dale sighed, tipping back his silver head and downing his drink.

"It's clear I'm not going to get any answers out of you that make any sense," Rick sighed, rubbing his temples. "But, I do have another question. What makes you think you have any right to mess with people's life like this? I had a life back in 2018. One I was in control of."

"Like I said, this is all you. I didn't take your life away."

"Bullshit," Rick snapped. He felt dizzy with anger and it almost felt as if the air around him was vibrating. He chucked the gold coin on the bar. It spun around on its edge in front of Dale who never took his eyes off Rick. "Stay away from me."

With that, he stalked away from the man and his abstruse explanations.

"Nut job thinks he's gonna screw with my head," he muttered as he exited the bar, searching for his car. "I'm not crazy." The words came out louder than he intended and he quickly surveyed his surroundings to make sure nobody was staring at the mentally unbalanced man declaring his sanity to an empty parking lot.

Strangely enough, there were some cars he didn't remember seeing in the small lot and he couldn't see the black sedan anywhere in sight.

He hit the button on his remote key only for and unfamiliar light green SUV to beep, signaling it's unlocked status. He stood in stupefied silence, looking between the keys, the vehicle, and the bar.


There you have it. Let me know what you think!