I'm back with chapter 7!
Here are some reviews quickly wanted to respond to:
courtgirl26: "[...] That would be great to do a Rick's POV chapter to find out what he's been thinking from the very beginning. I loved how Rick just calmly responded to her rant. The man does pay attention. [...]"
- I've actually decided that at least one chapter in this story is gonna be in Rick's POV because I think it's definately gonna be necessary to show you what Rick thinks during certain events... Also, I'm currently working on a new chapter that's about Rick and the day right before he met Michonne. I'm not sure if I'll include it in this story or if I'll post the chapter as a seperate story. Thank you for your review! Rick is absolutely paying attention haha!
member00: "[...] Ooh the confrontation/Michonne's snapping was great. Her nerves are shot and even if it wasn't for the stalker, she's been so traumatized and lonely all her life. Glad she's getting it out. Though Rick made total sense: "I don't know enough about you to create compromise." Loved that! [...]"
Nwfanmega: "[...] That convo in the bathroom was pitch perfect. Michonne is a bit of an enigma, but her fear and panic make perfect sense. [...]"
- Thank you both! I really hoped that I could make both sides in this discussion understandable. Michonne has been through a lot and now that it's kind of coming to a point where she can decide how she wants to continue living her life she's just really confused and doesn't know what she really wants. I love to hear that my readers have empathy for her!
also member00: "[...] Rick, just take the towel. We don't stand for stealing here...take it! :P [...]"
grimes1970: "[...] i thought michonne was going to kiss him or drop her towel lol. [...]"
also courtgirl26: "Rick asking Michonne when was the last time she did something risky, I thought she was going to drop that towel, lol! [...]"
- lmaooo I honestly didn't even think of that! I guess Michonne is still a little too shy to pull that off haha but we'll see if that's gonna change! really loved your comments haha
also Nwfanmega: "[...] I read your a/n about some interpreting Michonne as weak, which is something I don't really see. She's been isolated and protected for so long that her shyness and insecurity makes sense. It's also telling that she does actually CRAVE human contact, so it's been fascinating watching her try to get Rick to open up, while also trying to do the same for herself. [...]"
- wow thank you for that comment! yeah, Michonne in my story has went through different struggles than the Michonne we know on tv, so it makes sense for her to act anxious or shy sometimes. But she still wants change in her life, even if it seems scary. I think that says a lot about her strength.
Richonne4Life: "[...] Even if nothing happens between Rick and Michonne on a romantic level (It has to get smutty romantical, right? *puppy dog eyes*), it's clear that Michonne has a friend in Rick Grimes. [...]"
- weeeelll, I obviously don't wanna spoil anything for you, but patience will be rewarded! haha
Thank you for all your lovely reviews! They literally make my day!
Without further ado, here's chapter 7!
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The Sheraton Hotel in Atlanta was a true hidden gem. It wasn't truly an Inn, but a dark and lavish setting for a live, dream-like re-telling of Shakespeare's Mcbeth that made both tourists and locals question whether they were cognisant or hallucinating. The shadowy halls wound like a labryinth all over, from the lobby to the great room, upstairs and downstairs, in and out of the secret passage ways and through dimly lit lounges. This playground holding the show known as 'Sleep No More' was presented as a decadant building of luxury condemmed and locked in the late 1930s at the start of the second World War, and then re-opened to the public in present day.
The parties were gatsby-esque in their excess, where only top-shelf liqor poured at all of the 10 bars throughout the hotel and prepared Absinthe was kept in massive crystal decanters for the guests to help themselves. The attention to detail rivaled that of Disney Imagineers, with long hand-carved mahogany bars and dimy-lit lounges boasting red velvet-tufted walls and enormous chandeliers dripping crystals. There were narrow passage ways leading from one smoky lounge to another, and a massive great room featuring panels of red and purple chiffon draped from the ceiling, obscuring any on-lookers who might be creeping along with the car-walks and bacolnies suspended above. Roaming the building from the front desk all the way up to the rooftop deck transported you to a world merging the 1920's speak-easy social scene with the haunting suspense of Stephen King's The Shining.
This dark and twisted living fairytale world served as host for this year's gathering of the Atlanta Charitable Society's annual frundraiser, a prestigeous event that the military attended and donated to each year. This year was special though, for the charity in which the fundraiser was being held was the Wounded Warrior Project. The Wounded Warrior Project was a non-profit started for the purpose of raising awareness and enlisting the public's help for severly injured military members. It continues on to also help injured service members aid one-another, and provides unique and direct services and programs to wounded service members. Since this year's benefitting non-profit hit so close to home, Hershel saw it that every available Active Duty member be in attendance. He also informed Rick that there would be certain soldiers present that may not be trust-worthy, and could possible give us information about my stalker.
Grimes moaned and groaned of course, complaining that he hated being forced to clean up. But for someone who claimed to do it so infrequently, he sure cleaned up well. He wore an expensive and expertly-tailored suit of black on black, and opted to leave the tie behind, favoring a open collar instead. His hair was neatly pulled back and for once didn't seem so tousled. His beard was trimmed and when we walked in the Sheraton's great room many of the hundreds of heads followed him. The women's out of lust, the men's out of envy.
As we mingled with faces both familiar and the contrary, I began to notice many of the lingering looks Rick had gotten earlier had now been bestowed upon myself. It made me a little self-consious, and I wasn't sure if I was getting stared at out of admiration or shocked offense. Having been roped into this last second, I put on the only dress I owned that was fancy. An impulse purchase that sat in the back of my closet with the tags still on for years, until today. It was a strapless white chiffon and it fit me through the bust and torso like a glove. The layers of chiffon floated around my hips like softly billoughing clouds as I walked, and I was nervous about the dress because not only was it strapless and fitted with a low-cut back, but it was dangerously short. Rick wasted no time in asking why I was wearing a dress smaller than it's 'how to wash' tag. I had no other options and very little time, so I threw on some makeup and pulled my braids into a half-up-half-down hairstyle. As we were about to leave I slipped into 4-inch peep-toe heels and out on the only precious jewelery I owned. A necklace with the letter 'M' that I got from my mother to lay on my chest where she would be close to my heart. I turned around to look at myself one last time in the floor lenght mirror and noticed Rick glaring at me from the side. I grinned at him and playfully raised my eyebrow. Having been caught checking me out he breathed out a laugh and moved his head, signaling me to get going. He wasn't going to admit that he liked what he saw.
I was relieved when I was taken by the arm by Sasha, who had been a friend for years.
"There you are!" She exclaimed as she pulled me away from my escort for what I could only suspect would be girl-talk. She stuck her tongue out at Rick and winked playfully, and he grinned in response as he ordered a drink and struck up conversation with 2nd lieutenant Morgan Jones. I was ushered across the great room and down a dark hallway that lead to one of the many lounges, and was met with the smiling faces of Maggie and our friend Rosita. The four of us sat across form each other on tufted loveseats of emerals velvet and a tray of Hendrick's martinis was set on the table between us.
"Okay Michonne, spill." Sasha said as I slipped my gin martini nervously. The dripping tapers on the table only enhanced the sparkling mirth in the eyes of my three companions. "What's it like to live with the hottest guy on the planet?"
"Umm it's okay I guess." This clearly wasn't a satisfactory response.
"Does he snore?" Sasha asked.
"Does he leave the seat up?" Maggie inquired with a nibble on her olive.
"Have you seen him naked? How's his butt?"
I nearly choked on my gin. The girls howled in laughter.
"Oh come on Michonne, you've gotta give us something here." Rosita added. "The only people who've ever lived with Grimes are the soldiers who go on missions with him, and they won't tell us a thing. Bro code, you know? What happends on tour of duty, stays on tour of duty."
I composed myself and began twisting a single braid around my finger in nervous contemplation.
"Well.. there's not much to tell really. He always wakes up before I do, he's usually on his phone, he works out in the guest bedroom alot. I haven't heard any snoring and we have sperate bathrooms so I don't know if he leaves the seat up. And I wouldn't know how his butt is because I haven't seen it." This of course, was a lie.
Maggie eyes me speculativly, raising an eyebrow at me and a grin slowly tugging at her lips.
"It was an accident." I finally caved, seeing that it would be useless to try to hide it. The three of them squealed in delight. "He was showering and left the door open a little, and I was walking past and just happened to look up.."
"I bet it was spectacular view, right?" Sasha added animatedly, and she and the other two giggled and launched into chatter about some other topic, leaving me to to ponder Shasha's assumption. Rick Grimes could be considered comparable to summitting a mountain. Since seeing him that night I had been opened up to many new sides of Rick that I wasn't expecting. While I was happy to have a few answers, I couldn't help but notice that every question answered only led to new questions. When Rick moved in, I had wanted us to become friendly. I wanted us to get to know each other. And I was itching to uncover more of his secrets. But with every mile-maker I hit on the way up Mt. Grimes I found baggage. And the baggage became heavier with each step. I couldn't help but wonder. When I reach the summit, will the view really be spectacular? Or will the weight of the baggage make the destination not worth the difficult journey?
We continued to chat for awhile longer, when I realied I was starving and excused myself to go find catering or at least a waiter walking around with tray of bacon-wrapped scallops. I made my way down the narrow and shadowy hallway towards the great room when I found my path suddenly cut off by a tall man with a buzzcut wearing a blue suit. His eyes shone mischieviously, but in a way that made my stomach turn, and his smirk didn't hold the boyish charm of Rick's. His expression was undoubtably sinister in nature.
"You're that girl Grimes came with tonight, right?" He stepped closer to me.
"He's dangerous, you know. Gotta be careful around him." Liquor seared over his breath, and his sharp eyes melted in his innebreation. "I mean sure, I knew they wouldn't send me to look after you because I'm not the most popular choice either, but him? He's a ticking time bomb." He let out a laugh.
Shane Walsh was a seasoned soldier same as Rick. Over the years I hadn't failed to pick up the wispers of others whenever he was around. He preferred working alone, an unusual trait for a soldier seeing how the miliary intensely promotes teamwork. I had encountered him many times, and his stare always seemed to linger far too long and in areas it shouldn't travel to anyway. One of the Sergeants that I counted to one of my good friends, Dale, seemed always really nervous around him, and Daryl was never one to sugar-coat his distain for Walsh. Daryl had told me repeatedly over the years that he was a deceptive snake who was rumored to have involvement in truly horrific actions. The only reason he hand't been dis-honorably discharged years ago was because of lack of evidence against him. The higher-ups also wanted him around in times of war, for he had proven to be ruthless in battle; unafraid to do whatever was necessary in assuring the success of his mission. This only added to his controversial status; I heard he had slaughtered a bystanding child who crossed his path in the middle east and – accoording to him- posed a threat.
"Hello Mr. Walsh. Good turn-out this evening. Wounded Warrior should raise a lot of money, don't you think?" My efforts to steer the subject into neutral territory proved to be futile, for it seemed he never heard me.
"You have no idea what he is, do you?" He suddenly shoved me against the wall and we were bathed in shadows where no one would see. My fearful heart hammered in my chest and his putrid, liquor-soaked breath fell across my ear. "You don't know that he's a freak. Sure, people say that I'm bad, that I can't be trusted. But I'm not like him. Even the general, his biggest fan, doesn't trust him. Not completely."
I figeted under him, desperatly wanting to run being held by brute force. I felt his fingers dancing along the hem of my dress, skimming my thigh as his grip maintained on my arm. His face got dangerously close and I turned my face from his and squeeted my eyes shut, but self-deprivation of vision only forced me to hear his words more profoundly.
"Hell, Greene fought tooth and nail to see that he wasn't the one to be your guard." My eyes shot open at this and I turned to him as he continued.
"The only reason he's with you and not fighting the enemy is because of orders that came from over Greene's head. The general keeps him travelling for a reason. He's perfect in the field but when he sits home for too long his mental screws get loose. I know Daryl told you to stay away from me, but what has anyone told you about Grimes? Have you heard about his past? You probably don't even know about his scars and wounds. Where they come from. How about the fact that he's been in the military since he was fourteen? I bet you don't even know what he actually does."
I couldn't take anymore.
"Get the fuck off of me."
"We kill people, honey. We're trained government assasins. He gets paid a handsome price to slaughter people in the most brutal ways. Has he told you that? Judging by the way you look at him I'd say not. You look at him like he's so fucking perfect but you wouldn't think that if you knew what he's capable of. If you knew what he did when he was just a kid. He seems fine on the surface, but deep down he's a monster."
His grip on my hip and arm got unbarebly tight and felt panic build inside my chest.
With my free hand I slapped him in the face as hard as I could and broke free of his grasp, pushing him off me. He stumbled backwards. I ran a hand over my dress to smooth it again and let out a breath to calm myself. Then I turned and left him standing there, holding his aching cheek and chuckling sinisterly.
I entered the great hall again, exhausted from the onslaught both physical and mental. Shane's warning echoed in my mind over and over, and my rational brain knew that all rumors were rooted in some truth. Shane was right, I shouldn't be so trusting of Rick because I really barely knew him. It all made sense now. The bags of guns in his room, the expensive sheets and clothes, the black Astron Martin he drove us here in, the reason he could fight the way he did, the reason he slept with a gun under his pillow. He was a government assasin. Every fiber of my logical brain screamed that this had just gone from bad to worse, and that I needed to find a way to get Rick Grimes out of my life.
But my heart. My ridiculous, non-sensical heart. It fluttered like the rapid beating wings of the butterflies in my stomach whenever I saw him. Any attempt my brain would make to convince me to sleep in every morning was rebuffed by my heart, blooming with joy at the sound of his steady voice on the phone as it carried from the kitchen. This most vulnerable of organs was reduced to a squeezed pulp of bled emotion during any adorable commercial or thoughtful card from my Grandmother, and yet one flash of his dazzling grin was the charge that shocked my heart back into rapid living.
I took a deep breath to collect myself and went on my mission to find Rick so we could talk. Shane may have claimed him to be dangerous, but the eyes of the man who took me gently by the wrist and told be I needn't fear were not the eyes of a monster. It seemed that while I had been pre-occupied the number of people in attendance had tripled, and now included not only members of the military, but also members of the press, representatives of affiliated charities and causes, celebrities, politicians, even the Mayor of the city of Atlanta. I weaved between people, searching for Rick. A hand slipped around my elbow and I whirled around to find his gimmering eyes and devious smirk.
"I was about to send a search party." He joked calmly. I couldn't help but beam at the sight of him.
"Sorry," I exhaled with relief. "I got lost, this place is huge and dark. I think we can get out of here if you've got a flashlight and google maps."
His smirk became a thousand-watt smile, and he downed the remainder of his amber liquid and left the empty glass on the nearby bar.
"We might as well. My bid won the silent auction which means I'm out 12 grand. I think I've had enough excitement for one night." I could sense that he had the same idea I did; sweatpants and the sofa. We made the goodbye rounds as quickly as we could without seeming like we were rushing, stopping for his handshakes and my playful jabs with the guys and my hugs with the girls. We walked out onto the city street as snow began to delicately fall from the blackened sky and Rick stopped suddenly.
"Shit, I forgot." He stated. "I never closed my tab. Gimme just a sec, wait inside it's cold out."
I smiled softly and said I'd be along in just a moment, and he dissappeared back inside. I was nearly 3 a.m., and the city was suspened in the rare, beautiful silence of a quiet winter night. The cold air was invigorating to breathe, and standing alone on the street was a welcome release from the swarms of people inside. My peaceful reverie was short-lived however, when I heard boisterous laughter of two men walking towards the entrance as they tossed aside their cigarettes. We made brief eye contact as they walked by, and that's when one of them stopped.
"No way. Michonne? Michonne Anthony? Holy shit, it really is you!" The taller man said. I recognized his cocky grin. I went to high school with these guys. Mike and Terry, I remembered their names because I didn't really have friends in high school, but I knew them as the ring leaders of the circus of absurd boys who would whistle at me and murmur vulgarities as I walked by. Mike chuckled and added,
"Oh my god I can't believe we almost walked past you! I didn't think you could get any hotter but god damn you proved me wrong. We just scored some coke, wanna party?"
"Thanks for the offer, but I'm good." I way praying that Rick would come back outside. Just then Mike put his hand to his mouth in stunned realization.
"Oh snap I just remembered! Hey, was all that stuff we heard about you true?" Dread krept in my stomach, and I knew what was coming. There was a familiar shift in the air, and I felt the door open next to me. Rick was walking toward me when Terry piped up.
"Oh yeah! Like all that stuff about you having that rare blood condition or whatever? You know, the one that they talked about in the news, 'perfect blood'!" I closed my eyes in frustration because my parriferial vision had witnessed Rick stop in his tracks at hearing this. I didn't have a chance to even ponder how to respond because they just wouldn't shut the hell up.
"So doesn't that mean you can't get diseases? Or like, STDs and shit? That's gotta be so awesome, you can fuck whoever you want without a condom and no worries!"
My mind screamed at them to stop. I would've given anything to avoid Rick from finding out my secret and these two inconsiderate fools were dragging me through the same hell I went through as a child. Their obnoxious laughter cut through the quiet night, and my blood boiled.
"Shut up." I said. "You don't know what you're talking about."
They looked at me with surprise.
"Oh come on, Michonne. Everyone was talking about it." Terry announced. "I don't get what you're so upset about. Every guy in school was obsessed with you and are you really that surprised? I mean look at you! No wonder girls didn't like you."
I let out an exhausted breath and turned to Rick.
"Can we go?" He didn't look at me. He sent an icy glare at the two men and strode forward to take me to his car, when Terry spoke up again.
"Ahh, forget you. You were a prude then and you're still a fucking prude now!" Just when I thought my humiliation could never soar to higher reaches, we heard Mike add loudly,
"She's not a prude man, Daniel Lawrin told be he stuffed her from behind in the locker room Senior year! He said she must have Perfect Blood because she had the most perfect, tight pussy!"
Rick screeched to a halt next to me, his eyes turned down to the sidewalks which were now dusted with fine white powder. He pulled off his suit blazer and I felt it slip over my shaking shoulders. After pulling the key fob from his pocket, he pointed it at his car, unlocked it and pressed the fob into my hand.
"Lock yourself in and don't open it till I get back." He ordered. My throat began to tighten as I locked into his fierce eyes.
"Rick, let's just go.."
He exhaled focefully like an angry bull, not saying anything. He wouldn't budge. When I slammed the passenger side door and locked it, I looked up to see him stalking back up the street towards the disgusting pair who were doubled over laughing at their callous words and not paying attention to their surroundings. That was when I first saw Rick truly change. His steps were reminisent of panthers in the wild, steady, fluid and unhurried; waiting for opportune moment to strike. His hands began to flex in preparation and he cracked his knuckles in his hand. His hardened gaze held on his target and he smiled wickedly. In his anger Rick had become something else entirely. When he threw his first powerful punch Shane's words of warning echoed within me.
"He's a ticking time bomb... you should be afraid.. he's a monster."
That's it for chapter 7! As always, the next chapter should be posted tomorrow.
Let me know what you thought :)
