A/N: Hi everyone! I'm very thankful for your patience! Your support is super appreciated. This chapter was difficult to write, so let me know your thoughts.
"Carl, get away from the window," Rick snapped as he continued to prepare dinner. Judith was sitting at the table, telling her father about her day while Carl waited anxiously, constantly peering through the window into the darkness outside to see if someone was approaching.
"I'm just checking," the boy responded, closing the curtains Rick had put up to block out all of the windows. Carl watched his father finish up at the stove and wondered what had happened between their argument this morning and now that had changed. His father had returned home earlier that evening with a timid smile on his face and a sincere apology about his words this morning. Rick acknowledged that he overreacted and explained the situation that occurred at the jail. Carl could tell that something had shifted in his father. Or rather, something had been awakened.
In the time since the marauders had left town Rick had thought of Michonne constantly throughout the day. He kept thinking about their conversation in the jailhouse, about the frustration during their conversation as they tried to navigate whatever it was that was developing between them. The look in her eyes when he asked her to trust him and the feelings that bubbled beneath the surface as he watched depart from Alexandria.
He kept thinking about whether he had made the right decision and how he could reconcile his lawful duties with the implied understanding he had of Michonne's mission. He thought of her beautiful brown eyes, long, black dreadlocks, glowing skin...
"Are you sure they're coming?" Carl asked for the third time that night, drawing Rick out of his thoughts. He observed the eagerness in his son's face and could not help but share his anticipation, mixed with tempered uncertainty.
"I don't know," Rick responded quietly, that question prompting a sliver of doubt to run up his spine. As sincere as she had been in accepting his offer, Michonne was still a known criminals and for her to return to Alexandria after everything that had occurred in the past couple of days was something of a long shot. If Rick were being completely honest with himself, there was really no reason for her to return, especially if she did what she was planning.
If you were being completely honest, you would acknowledge that it's a bad idea to invite a known group of outlaws into your home with a restless son and impressionable daughter, Rick mused silently. Even if the woman has captured your heart.
That last thought jolted Rick and he sighed. He needed to get his head back on right.
A knock at the door caused them to jump, but neither of them moved to answer.
"Alms for the poor!"
Carl's eyes lit up and he rushed to the door. "Michonne," he breathed as he revealed six hooded figures on the dark doorstep. One of them stepped forward and removed her hood, grinning brilliantly at the young man.
"I'm here to rob you and your household of its virtue," she greeted, motioning behind her. "They are here to help."
Michonne's crew pushed into the kitchen, jostling each other as they merrily took in the humble abode of the paradoxical sheriff. It was a small two bedroom home, with one main room in the front that included a kitchenette and dining table, crammed with mismatched chairs for the Grimes and their guests.
"Woah," Rosita muttered while Noah and Jesus noticed the makeshift curtains that were covering the walls.
"That's quaint," Jesus commented, hesitating slightly as they all turned to look at Rick, who looked at once invigorated and overwhelmed by the gravity of what was happening. There was a moment of brief silence where the lawman and the outlaws stared at each other, waiting for one another to make a move. Michonne and her gang anticipating the possibility that the sheriff would realize how outrageous this entire scenario was, come to his misguided senses, and kick them out. Rick momentarily thinking the exact same thing.
"Holy shit, a baby," Tara gushed suddenly, catching sight of Judith. Without waiting for Rick's permission, the woman entered the kitchen and scooped the child up in her arms, immediately eliciting an excited squeal from the girl. "Abraham, when was the last time you held a baby?"
Abraham and Rosita exchanged amused glances as they also approached the table, gathering around Tara to better examine the Judith. Michonne hid a smile as the others followed suit, leaving her to stand alone to the side, glancing cautiously in Carl and Rick's direction.
"Where did you go?" Carl asked eagerly while Rick still seemed to be catching up with the whole situation.
Raising an eyebrow, Michonne glanced down at her dusty boots and shrugged. "Out. Taking in the sights," she responded cheekily, catching Rick's eyes. "So much to see around here."
That seemed to shake him out of whatever revere he was in. Immediately he went into security mode and hurried over to the door, opening it quickly to peek outside before slamming it shut and looking around at his new houseguests. Noticing his sudden intensity, they once again stilled, trying to figure the man out. Michonne caught their questioning glances, knowing they expected her to handle the unpredictable sheriff.
"Sheriff," she started before she thought better of it and changed tactics, moving away from Carl and standing right in front of Rick, grabbing his complete attention and startling everyone else into a bated silence. "Rick," she whispered, her voice causing his blood to course faster through his veins as their bodies brushed briefly. "If you want us to leave-"
"I was just making sure you weren't followed," he interjected.
"We weren't," she asserted and he tilted his head to the side.
"That don't mean someone doesn't know y'all are here."
Michonne mimicked his gesture, a faint knowing smirk gracing her lips and momentarily causing him to forget that they had an audience.
"Then you're fucked, aren't you?" she murmured so that only he could hear, her body heating up at the sight of him looking her over reverently. There was a brief moment where they just stared at each other before Abraham coughed, not even trying to hide the knowing amusement on his face.
"We gonna get a chance to sample dinner as well, or just Michonne?" He asked cheekily and Rosita smacked his arm.
"Abe," she hissed before she approached Rick, pulling an envelop out of her back pocket. "Sheriff, thank you for your kindness," she began, shooting Michonne a pointed look as she came to stand beside the woman. "We wanted you to have this."
Rick broke away from Michonne's gaze and looked down at the envelope skeptically.
"That's not necessary," he responded and she snorted, pushing the envelope into his hand.
"It's legally obtained, if that's what you're worried about," she assured him while Michonne smiled and moved away from him, back to where Carl was waiting impatiently. Rosita watched Rick watch Michonne and she hid a smile of her own. "Not that that matters, considering the circumstances."
Rick caught the knowing looks being shared amongst his guests and swallowed the urge to reprimand them. Instead, he grew red and headed back to the stove. "Why don't y'all sit down before you say something stupid."
Ignoring him, they went back to cooing over Judith, who was increasingly enjoying the attention. In the meantime, Jesus and Noah decided to snoop around the small home, keeping away from the windows as they moved.
"He's going mad right now," Carl muttered and Michonne stifled a chuckle.
"He could ask us to leave," she pointed out and Carl turned to her.
"I thought he had."
Michonne's mind flashed briefly to the harsh words Rick had spewed at her prior to their understanding. "He said he forbid you from seeing me," she informed him and Carl too flashed back to just this morning.
"Apparently he changed his mind."
A smile graced her lips and she nudged him slightly. "And just like this town, your father is a mystery to me."
"This town's not too hard to figure out," Carl muttered, catching her ear with the bitter tone in his voice.
"You really don't want to be here do you?"
Shrugging, Carl glanced over at his father, who was doing his best to keep an eye on dinner, his daughter, his son, and the two guests who had disappeared into the back. He was failing miserably and Michonne took notice as well.
"Your father needs you here," she observed as she backed away from Carl and peered down the tiny hall leading to the bedrooms. Rick watched as she released a sharp whistle, to which those in the kitchen stilled while Noah and Jesus reappeared instantly, watching her for orders. Michonne waved them over before she turned back to an impressed Carl. "What?"
"Dad can't do that," he admitted and she straightened up.
"Your father has the utmost respect of those deputies," she countered quietly but forcefully.
"Maybe… I wouldn't know."
"You don't talk to them?"
"He doesn't want me around the jail."
"That's not such a bad thing," she snorted and he shrugged.
"He just doesn't want me to be a deputy."
Michonne tilted her head, alarmed slightly by his words. "Do you want to be a lawman?"
Carl's eyes darkened. "No, and neither does my father," he answered.
Michonne saw the same tension and conflict in Carl that she had seen last night, masked behind an eagerness to escape into the stories she and Abraham told him. Seeing him now in this small home and having experienced the town in a more intimate way than she ever wanted, part of her understood the young man's disdain for being kept so close to home and the seeming appeal of Michonne's outlaw lifestyle. The other part wanted to very inelegantly remind him, however painfully, about the cost of such a life and why she lived it to begin with.
As she stood there in the kitchen, observing this tiny family survive, she felt her heart clench for Rick Grimes, the father, the sheriff, the leader, the lawbreaker, and all of the contradictions and conflicts that resided within the tall, handsome man.
"Your father knows what we are and he's given us refuge," she whispered, turning to face Carl completely. "And he knows what you could be… Which is why I think he didn't want you to hang around us before." Taking a deep breath, she patted the boy on the back. "Your father's doing a pretty good job for going mad."
Carl was quiet for a moment, recalling the strange look on his father's face when Michonne had entered the house. It was this fearful anticipation that Carl remembered seeing only a few times when he caught his parents together when they thought they were alone. He never saw it again until tonight and he had an inkling that that was the main reason for his father's abrupt reversal from this morning's command.
"I think he's afraid of you," he muttered and she snorted again, turning back to observe her gang.
"We ain't gonna mess up the place or harm you," she responded. "Come tomorrow morning, you won't even know we were here."
It was Carl's turn to laugh at her obfuscation.
"He ain't scared of them, Michonne," he corrected, pointing over to his father. She followed his gaze and caught Rick watching them before the man blushed and returned to the stove. Her body went hot and she crossed her arms over her chest defensively, annoyed that everyone felt the need to comment on what even she could not bring herself to explain. "He's scared of you."
"You gonna come to bed anytime soon?"
Sasha glanced over her shoulder to see Bob come out of their bedroom, rubbing his eyes and looking slightly annoyed to find her in their tiny kitchen, cleaning her rifle and reading newspaper clippings and some letters.
"What the hell are you doin'?" He asked, approaching the wooden table she sat at.
"Getting ready," she responded distractedly as he picked up one of the clippings and read the headline, discussing Michonne's gang.
"I thought they left."
"They're at the sheriff's house," she muttered as she set her rifle down and pushed some of the paper around to continue her reading.
"Seriously."
"Yes."
"Why the hell-"
Sasha snatched the clipping out of Bob's hand and set it down. "'Cause Rick's a good man and he's trying to do a good thing," she responded tersely.
"By keepin' outlaws in his home with his two children?"
Sighing, Sasha looked up at Bob. "I didn't say he was a smart man, Bob," she quipped before returning to her guns and her reading.
He watched her work for a couple of minutes, pouring over the papers urgently for something. "You think they're bad people?" She shook her head silently and he frowned, sitting down next to her. "Sasha, what are you looking for?"
For a brief pause, it felt as if he was being ignored. She continued to work on one of her pistols while her eyes flitted urgently over the newspapers, her breathing even.
"Sasha-"
"Michonne and her people... they've done good things," she whispered, motioning to the clippings. "They've freed slaves... people like us..."
"Then what are you getting ready for?"
Biting her lip, Sasha held up some letters she and Glenn had intercepted from this morning's mail run after Michonne's gang had left town.
"People who free slaves and hurt the businesses of sympathetics down South don't stay alive without makin' some enemies," she mused softly. "And they've already made a couple of enemies here." Bob remembered Cavanagh coming in to the infirmary and understood her concerns. "Bob... something's comin' to Alexandria and it ain't good."
"You talk to the sheriff about this?" He asked and she shook her head again, returning to her gun.
"Just Daryl and Glenn."
"You plan on tellin' him about all of this?"
"Not until it becomes necessary," she muttered somewhat impatiently. "Glenn's got an eye on him if somethin' comes up tonight."
Bob watched her for a moment before he sighed and went to the tiny stove in the corner. "Fine," he grumbled. "Then I'll make some coffee."
"Bob-"
"Sasha, you got guns out on our table, gearin' up for some kinda war. You and the others are readin' people's mail and the sheriff's harboring outlaws," he snapped, motioning to her. "I'm helping you."
It took Sasha a moment to recover from her shock at his outburst, her heart warming at his words.
"Fine... thank you."
Supper at the Grimes home was a very unconventional affair that night. After crowding around the table in the kitchen and receiving the food Rick had set down, the little house erupted into a scene of laughter, tales, and strange intimacy as the Grimes family and Michonne's gang embraced the situation.
Abraham, ever the storyteller, enraptured Carl and Judith in his recounting of his and Rosita's first meeting while the others ate, drank, and listened humorously to his somewhat accurate memory.
"And here I am, bare ass naked-"
"Abe!" Rosita gasped, putting her hands over Judith's ears and blushing violently. "Ain't nobody except me and Michonne needed to know that!"
Noah sat up straighter in his chair, setting down his drink as he grinned mischievously. "You never mentioned that part of the story before!"
Jesus snorted. "Sure didn't. Why the hell were you naked?"
Rosita's eyes darted to Rick, who looked half amused and half like he was regretting the whole thing. "I don't think the sheriff needs to know that."
Carl laughed. "Why what happened?"
Michonne leaned back in her chair. "'Cause Rosita's the one who found him," she quipped.
Tara grinned and added, "Tied to a horse stall."
"Why were you tied to a horse stall?" Carl asked while Jesus and Noah chuckled.
"You left him in that barn tied up and naked?" Jesus looked to Michonne. "You told us a different story."
"Yeah, I thought the farmer caught you, Abraham," Noah pointed out.
"I was trying to keep Rosita's part out of it," Michonne replied truthfully, catching Rick's eyes as she shifted in her seat. Warming under his gaze, she could not help but smirk. "Tara and I watched her sneak out the back while Abraham confronted the farmer out front."
Rick raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like a wonderful time was had by all."
Abraham shrugged and took a deep swig from his cup, winking at Rosita. "Very wonderful indeed."
The others laughed while Rosita just shook her head, desperate to change the subject. Standing up, she handed Judith over to Michonne without even glancing at Rick before she grabbed one of the saddle bags off of the floor, opening it up and pulling out a deck of worn cards.
"How about we talk about somethin' else," she suggested, waggling the cards while Jesus and Tara hopped up to clear the table.
Rick stood up, hands raised in protest. "Look, you don't have to-"
"Sheriff, sit down," Jesus insisted while Michonne hid a smile. "We can handle this, relax."
As Rick slowly lowered himself back into his seat, the others began to explain the rules of the game to an excited Carl, who had never had the opportunity to play before. For a moment Rick was tempted to dismiss his son, but as he watched Noah and Rosita genuinely engage Carl, happy to provide him assistance as they doled out the cards and joked with him, Rick realized that this was something his son had desperately needed for the longest time.
So instead, he turned his eyes to Michonne, who was holding the dozing child close to her chest as she rocked back and forth soothingly, watching her people carefully.
As apprehensive as he had been earlier when her gang had arrived on his doorstep, throughout the evening and the stories, he had grown comfortable with the members of her group, but anxious about Michonne's good mood.
While she had not stated explicitly what her plan was, there were only so many reasons why a vengeful mother would spend years seeking the killer of her son, to finally find him in the next town over. He knew what it was like to have that feed on you. That devil chattering in your ear, hounding you relentlessly. He also knew what it was like to be so close to easing that suffering and finally pull the trigger.
Their eyes met and Michonne could instantly see that something was on his mind. Tilting her head, she stared back at him, wondering how she was going to address this particular situation. As easy as it had been not to deny the impact Rick had on her to her gang, it was one thing to sit there and attempt to avoid it all together at his table.
"Michy," Judith called, breaking Michonne out of her thoughts.
"Yes?"
"May I see your sword?" she asked politely and she shook her head.
"No, dear, you may not see my sword," she responded with a laugh.
"Do you kill people with it?"
Michonne was surprised by the question, but when she glanced over at Rick, he did not seem to be. Apparently his daughter's bluntness was hereditary. "I try not to," she told the child quietly, so that only Judith could hear. Suddenly feeling like she was being told this big secret, Judith also lowered her voice and leaned in closer to Michonne's face.
"You're pretty."
Smiling, Michonne tapped the girl's nose. "Thank you. You're pretty too."
Beaming at the compliment, Judith reached out and touched the necklace Michonne was wearing. "Did you steal this?"
Michonne could not help but snort at the question. "No, it belongs to me. Why do you ask?"
"Papa said you were a thief," Judith murmured and Michonne looked over at Rick, who was watching the two with a strangely worried look on his face. It was clear he was straining to hear what was being said and was failing miserably above the laughter of the others at the table.
"What else did your father say about me?"
"You're dangerous," the girl offered willingly and Michonne wondered exactly how much this girl knew about her.
"You don't seem afraid."
Judith shrugged and yawned loudly in her arms, momentarily distracting the other guests from the game. Carl glanced over at his father before he sheepishly stood up.
"I'll take her to bed," he offered but Michonne held up her hand to stop him.
"Carl, no," she interjected, standing up as well. "I'll take her. You stay and show Jesus how to actually play some poker."
Carl hesitated. "But-"
Rick stood up as well. "Carl, stay," he insisted, motioning behind Michonne. "I'll show you."
Rosita and Abraham exchanged knowing glances but said nothing as Michonne quietly followed, leaving them behind.
For the small walk to the side bedroom, Michonne and Rick remained silent. Judith sleepily murmured into Michonne's shirt, clinging tightly to her as they entered the bedroom.
"Michy..."
Smiling, the woman looked down at the child as she lay her on the bed. "Yes?"
"Please don't leave…"
"Leave?"
Judith's eyes drooped closed and she shifted into a more comfortable position on the sheets. "Papa said you were leaving..."
Michonne bit her lip and sighed. "It ain't a good idea for me to stay here."
"Papa wants you to stay," Judith mumbled so only Michonne could hear before she fell asleep right then and there. Shocked, Michonne stared at the child for a few moments, her heart pounding frantically against her chest as Judith's words ran over and over in her mind.
"Michonne..."
The seriousness in his voice drew her attention once more and she saw him staring solely at her, eyes filled once more with the same emotions that had stirred her at the jail. That made her feel hot under her clothes. That made her temporarily forget why she was there in the first place.
In that moment, she stood up and quickly moved out of the room, waiting out in the hall for Rick to meet her there. Without thinking, the question spilled out of her lips, "Do you want me to stay?"
The accusatory nature of the inquiry caught Rick off guard and it took a second for him to recover, eyes wide and darting between Michonne and his sleeping daughter. Michonne instantly caught his distress and she stood up, leading the way out of the room into the hall. Through the wall, they could hear her gang continuing their game with Carl, still exchanging stories and jokes as the night wore on. However, Michonne seemed impervious to their sounds.
"Rick," she breathed and any barrier he had up protecting him from her suddenly crumpled, exposing the answer without a word.
"Michonne…" He could not finish as his face reddened from embarrassment. He took a step away from her, needing distance to clear his mind and figure out how to address this rationally. Rick had promised himself he would keep a level head, but as soon as he had seen her with Judith, the idea of maintaining some level of detachment had vanished.
Never in her life had she felt this much attachment for one man in such a short amount of time. It was ridiculous to call it love after such a short amount of time, but there was no denying the intense attraction and connection they had as they stood there in the small bedroom. For Michonne, there had been plenty of people in her life who had wanted her to stay. Mostly, she had grown immune to such requests, especially by men attempting to control her under the guise of love. But to hear it from a child and to see a genuine desire for intimacy… not lust, but something deeper resonated in his eyes, it ignited her body and for a few brief minutes, she pushed her mission out of her mind. She pushed Brian Blake out of her mind and suppressed the need for revenge that had been her lifeblood for the past ten years.
For a brief period in time, Michonne made the conscious decision to indulge in the moment and deep down, she knew she would regret it.
"Rick, my path is set." It was a warning. As he looked into her beautiful brown eyes, he could see the warning, but also something else. The same want he had felt countless times around her since their meeting, the same aspiration to learn more about her, draw closer to her, and explore the possibilities of this obvious connection. He saw it all in her eyes and his body instinctively reacted.
"I know," was all he could muster and she stood up straighter, every nerve in her body blazing with want.
"Good," she muttered before he closed the distance between them, taking her face in his hands and pressed his lips against hers in a searing kiss. Her lips opened instantly to his, welcoming his tongue in an eager dance as their bodies pressed fiercely against each other. Her hands moved up to his face, clutching him closely to her as their lips moved passionately. Groaning into his lips, she could feel his hands shaking as they gripped her hips, tugging her body impossibly closer to his while her fingers twisted around the soft curls of his hair. As their minds clouded over, she gasped and shuddered when his fingers grazed her burning skin, the soft sounds she made arousing him.
Rick felt like he was drowning as they stood there, clinging to each other, desperate to breath as much of each other as possible in whatever short amount of time they had. He maneuvered them against the wall, eliciting a breathless whimper from Michonne, her body craving more as she felt his arousal pressed against her. The movement caused him to pull away briefly and that was all it took.
They were trapped against that wall, breath mingling, hearts pounding, bodies screaming, yet that demon returned to nag at them. Remind them that as real as this was and as palpable and sensuous the feelings were, it would not matter come morning time. Seeing the desire in his eyes and feeling him intimately continued to fog up Michonne's mind, but she continued to not want to care.
She gasped when he reached up and gently caressed her cheek, waiting agonizingly for her to make the next move. Yet he could quickly see that that move would not be what they both wanted. Her eyes rapidly filled with pain at her next actions as she briefly traced the contours of his neck.
"Michonne-"
"Good night, Rick," she cut in, her body suddenly seizing up. After another beat of shocked silence, she gently pushed him away from her and moved away from the wall, instantly feeling the loss of him.
"Michonne-"
"Dad?"
Michonne's eyes snapped to Carl, who was standing there, mouth agape. Instead of anger, she saw a strange understanding in his eyes, like this was something he might have anticipated. Instead of disapproval, she saw acceptance and it frightened her more than thinking about what Rick was going through.
It was one thing to disappoint a man. But to disappoint a child. Especially one she had finally allowed herself to care for…
"Carl, you need to forget what you just saw," she blurted out painfully, swallowing the instant disgust she felt at those words. Behind her, she could feel Rick's eyes burning holes into her back but she refused to look at him. She did not want to see the hurt she was causing. Before either of them could offer a response, she straightened up and pushed her way to the kitchen. "Please forget what you just saw."
Carl stared after her before turning his gaze to his father, who was clearly still recovering from whatever intimacy had occurred in the hall.
"Dad-"
"Go to bed," Rick muttered flatly, his eyes clouding over as he struggled to keep it together in front of his son.
Carl could tell that something had gone terribly wrong and he wondered, as he observed his father silently dismantle, how things had gone so wrong so quickly.
"Dad-"
Closing his eyes, Rick pointed behind him towards the children's room. "Carl please," he begged, needing a moment alone to fully recover. "Just… please… go to bed…"
The rest of the night devolved into an incredibly uncomfortable shitshow. As small as the house was, it was impossible for the others not to pick up instantly that something had transpired between Michonne and Rick. Michonne's good mood was decimated, reverting back to the determination and rage that had consumed her during their planning that day at the Hilltop. Rick just looked ill and quickly retired for the evening, leaving the rest of the group nervously pressing Michonne for assurances about their current state.
Would Rick turn on them?
No, was her emphatic response. As awful as that moment in the hallway had been, there was no more doubt in her mind about how he felt about her and she could not imagine he would sell them out due to her actions. Actions she regretted. Actions she repeated over and over in her mind. Actions she cursed herself for putting an end to…
The night had been fitful and treated her mercilessly, denying her any rest before she was roused from her spot on the floor by Jesus in the early morning hours, who indicated to everyone that it was time to depart. The house was deathly silent as Michonne's gang began to sneak out the door, once more disappearing into the inky darkness towards the place in the woods where they had left their horses.
"I'll meet up with you," Michonne informed Noah as they watched Tara move off of the porch and into the shadows.
"Michonne."
"I won't be long," Michonne promised, glancing behind her into the house. "I… I just need to do one more thing."
Noah nodded silently. He had seen the looks Michonne and Rick had exchanged all night and coupled with Abraham's account of what had transpired at the jail, Michonne's actions were understandable. For the most part, Michonne's relationships with men over the past few years had been simply for physical needs. There had been a couple of men who sought to keep her for themselves, both ending disastrously for them. It had been surprising to see how quickly and how intensely Michonne had grown attached to the Grimes family, but as he had watched them interact the night before, somehow it just made sense.
"We'll wait for you," Noah whispered before he slipped out the back door and disappeared into the darkness. Michonne quietly made her way down the tiny hall, her determination slowly eroding as she drew closer to Rick's bedroom door. Stopping in front of it, she hesitated, remembering how wonderful it had felt to be kissed by him. Caressed by him… How exciting it had been to momentarily become vulnerable to another human in that way and enjoy that intimacy… It had been years…
"My path is set," she repeated. It was not a simple mantra and she could not ignore that aspect of herself, no matter what. To abandon this mission now would be, in her mind, to fail Andre in the most egregious way and she would not allow that to happen.
Steeling herself, she tapped on the door, hoping that Rick was a light sleeper, since she would not knock any louder and wake his children. As much as she wanted to see them again… apologize to them, she realized swiftly that she could not handle it. She just needed to see him. She just needed to hear his voice one last time.
When the door opened quickly, she was startled by his state of dress. He had not changed from last night and a quick glimpse of the bed and the dark circles under his eyes let her know he had not slept at all. She bit back her concern and took a deep breath.
"The others have left," she whispered. "I just wanted to say goodbye. And thank you."
The pained look on his eyes betrayed the calmness of his words and nearly undermined her resolve. "I see," he responded, watching her carefully. He saw sadness on her face and wished she would not leave. "So this is it, then…"
She nodded, looking down at her hands to avoid his piercing gaze. "I'll be out of your hair," she muttered.
"And we'll never see you again." The hurt in his voice was impossible to deny and she took another shaky breath.
"If we succeed, we won't be able to come back," she responded, meeting his eyes determinedly. "If it fails… Well, it won't matter."
Rick's heart clenched and his eyes darkened at the flippancy of her words.
"It'll matter to Carl," he snapped, glancing over at his children's door in a moment of panic. And me, he added silently. She followed his gaze and bit back the urge to rush in and see them.
"Carl will be fine," she mumbled, more to convince herself than him. "He hasn't known me long enough anyway… He'll forget about me soon enough."
"Is that what you think?" Michonne turned to see Rick looking straight at her, his eyes once again betraying him and revealing more than just the physical attraction he felt for her. It knocked the air out of her lungs and she fought to suppress her own emotions.
"Rick," she began, but he moved closer to her, taking her face in his hands.
"Michonne… You don't have to do this-"
"Don't," she interjected firmly, grabbing his wrists and silently pleading with him not to continue. It had taken all of her strength just to approach his door. "Don't try to change my mind. Don't try to convince me to not do this."
"You're going to get yourself killed," he entreated, searching her face for the conflict he knew was brewing within her. He had seen it in her eyes before she had pulled away from him last night. He had felt it in the way she had held him to her when they kissed.
Michonne closed her eyes, desperate not to reveal anything more to this man. "When your wife died, what did you do about the man that killed her," she snapped angrily. "What did you do?"
Rick hesitated and that was all she needed. Opening her eyes, she could see he was hurt, but something within her refused to give way. The part of her that had spent ten years searching. Ten years simmering. Ten years planning. That part of her refused to be ignored and refused to be quashed by her feelings for this man and his family. It could not be conquered.
"Rick," she whispered, grabbing his attention. "If you could do it all over again, would you?"
After a moment is silence, he released her and leaned back against the door, defeated once again. "Yes."
Michonne bit her lip and leaned forward. "Then why ask me to do otherwise?"
Rick looked down at the ground, almost in shame for his previous behavior and how his feelings for her had manifested into a desperate attempt to keep her.
"I… I guess I just…"
But he could not vocalize it. Rick had always prided himself on managing his emotions and being measured in his actions. Last night had destroyed that and never before had he felt so out of control in his life. Despite his initial attempts, he was enraptured by this beautiful woman who stood before him, flawed, tortured, witty, and captivating. He longed for the time, the opportunity to court her, learn more about her, to explore her mind, her body, her past, but he had no right to ask her to stay and he knew it was wrong to even voice his wishes. He had crossed a line last night and now he had to make amends. This mission was something she clearly needed to complete to reach some sort of peace and if her actions revealed anything, it was that she probably wanted to stay. But he could not do that to her.
"That's why I didn't want you to try to change my mind," she murmured and his eyes snapped to hers, stunned by the tears that threatened to spill out onto her cheeks. He instinctively reached out to wipe them away but she jolted, realizing that if he touched her again, she would lose any will she had left to depart. Shaking her head, she stood up straighter and motioned to the children's bedroom. "Tell Carl I'm sorry," she requested, gasping for air as she took a step away from Rick. "I am sorry…"
Rick could see her desperation to leave and refused the urge to try to make her stay. He knew that this was something she needed to do, just as it was what he had needed two years earlier. As much as he wanted her to stay, he could never deny her that right. He did not want to force her off of a path she clearly needed to take, regardless of this emotional detour. He would have to resign himself to the knowledge that she wanted to stay. And that thought alone killed him.
"Be safe," he offered.
For a full minute no one said a word. The entire house was silent as Michonne let his words sink into her, ringing in her ears as if he were still repeating them. Her heart clenched painfully and the weight of her own feelings crushed her chest, making it difficult to breathe. That same voice inside her that had urged her to trust him was now demanding that she stay. She could still live the life she wanted and remain in one place, it reasoned. She could still serve and free her people and explore a life so few people, let alone freed slaves, were given a chance to. In an instant she thought of being courted by this man before her, wooed by him, caressed by him, consumed by him. She thought of a strange life in this town, ignoring the obvious whispers as she was welcomed by the Grimes family. Embraced by them. Possibly loved…
But just as quickly as those tempting thoughts entered her mind, they were blighted out by the thought of her son in that embankment, coughing up blood, choking on mud, dying alone, crying for his mother. The image seared its way across her brain, wiping out any desire to stay and explore this outlandish possibility. Try as she might, she had never been able to rid herself of that image and even now, as she stood there with a man baring his soul to her, she could not relent. Her son's torment, his death was her burden and until she dealt with it, she could not yield herself to anyone else.
She needed air. She needed to be away from here.
"Good bye, Rick," she whispered before she turned and walked away. He followed her to the door, watching as she flipped her hood up and ran out the door before he could say a word to her.
He strained to see her figure through the darkness, but quickly lost her, leaving him to close his eyes and mentally curse himself for what had happened over the past couple of days and what was about to happen.
"Michonne…"
He sent up a silent prayer that he would have the chance to say her name one more time.
A/N: Okay, so the next chapter will most definitely be very action oriented and somewhat Richonne light (It's Mission Oriented!). I'm curious how you all felt about this chapter and the final Richonne scene. Thanks again for all of your support!
