A/N: Same warning as last chapter-this update includes speculation on the events of 6B. I've drawn inspiration from the graphic novel, filming spoilers, interviews, promos, and whatever else I could get my grubby little hands on.
...people she loves, and people who love her...
"Do you think they have chickens?"
Rick diverted his attention away from the window which framed the endless blur of trees that scrolled by as their RV sped down the desolate stretch of highway. He looked across the booth first at Maggie then at Michonne who sat beside her waiting for one of them to engage in her hopeful speculation.
"You could ask him," he said with a wry grin as he nodded his head back toward the locked bedroom that housed their prisoner.
"It can wait," she said coolly. "I was just thinking that if they did, it would be nice if we could get one..."
"One's not gonna do you much good unless you're just lookin' for a pet…" he pointed out, once again with that teasing tone and grin.
She paused for a moment and tilted her head to question his response. He seemed to be in good spirits, but she couldn't get a straight answer out of him to save her life this morning.
"A few," she corrected. "I was trying not to be greedy."
She twisted in her seat to angle her body towards Maggie, who was more likely to answer her question seriously, and likely knew far more about these things than he did anyway given that she was the daughter of a veterinarian and raised on a farm.
"How many eggs do they lay at a time?"
"Depends on the breed," she answered easily. "But on average, I'd say about one every day or so from spring to late autumn."
Rick watched from across the table as she scribbled this information on a fresh page in her ever-present notebook. Her keen sense of organization was just one of the many little things he had begun to notice about her lately. From the way she'd taken to wearing her hair back to the nickname she used for his daughter to her nightly routine of having a cup of tea and unwinding downstairs after the kids went to bed; he had started to find himself fascinated with these mundane little details about her. He wasn't sure if they were new or if he was just seeing her through clearer eyes these days, or possibly a little bit of both, but he couldn't get enough as far as she was concerned lately. He found himself seeking her out more often, setting himself up for a chance to see her beautiful smile or hear the rare girlish giggle that belied her tough exterior.
"So April, May, June, July, August, September, October, maybe November," she whispered aloud to herself as she ticked off fingers for each month. "8 times 30 is 240, divided by 2 is 120, and we have 42 people right now..." she rattled off shaking her head with disappointment at the unfavorable ratios. "Yeah, we need more chickens."
Maggie and Rick shared a knowing look across the table; armed with information that was about to make her calculations a bit more difficult.
"Say Maggie, don't they lay fewer eggs as they get older?" Rick asked, playing dumb.
"Yep. The number of days between eggs stretches out every year. I've heard there's a twenty percent decrease year to year, but I'm not sure if that's true or not," Maggie confirmed.
"Hmm," Rick leaned back in the booth then ran his hand over his beard as feigned taking in this knowledge for the first time before looking up at Michonne. "What's the math on that, Michonne?" he asked with a smirk.
"Aren't you two so funny?" Michonne said as their little joke at her expense sunk in. She began to smile, but tried to stifle it. "Messing with the city girl…"
"I'm so sorry," Maggie said apologetically through her laughing. She wrapped her hands around Michonne's upper arm and rested her head against her shoulder briefly in place of a real hug. "He set me up."
"Yeah…" Michonne said as she stared across the table at Rick who was trying his best to play innocent.
Maggie noted the stare down occurring between them, and used that as her cue to leave.
"I'm gonna check in on Glenn, Abe, and Daryl upfront. See if they need any help navigatin'…"
Maggie slid out of the booth and took the few steps to the front of the RV where she took a seat on the floorboard between Glenn and Abe, leaving Rick and Michonne on their own.
"I know what you're thinking…" Michonne said as she watched him watching her across the table.
"I don't think you do," he said smugly. He happened to be thinking, at that very moment that it seemed impossible that one person could be so smart, so lethal, and yet so cute.
"Look, if I could Google this stuff, and save myself the grief, I would," she returned dryly. "But I don't have that option."
He dropped the playfulness, and reached across for her notebook. He slid it towards the center of the table then grabbed the top of the pen, and gently pulled it out of her hand. He started to sketch a square on the paper, filling in the blank space with lines as he began to speak.
"We'll ask for two: a hen and a rooster so that they can reproduce, and we can get the numbers we need for a steady supply of eggs and maybe even meat one day," he explained as he continued to draw what was starting to look like plans for a coop. "Now roosters are noisy, so I've got my worries that between the smells and the sound, they may be ringing the dinner bell for walkers, but if that turns out to be a problem, we can handle that easily enough," he said with a grin as he looked up at her, her face already close to his as they both leaned in looking over the notebook between them.
"Chicken dinner," she returned with a grin of her own.
"Exactly. The pigs never caused a problem at the prison, so maybe we'll get lucky. Either way, you'd probably wanna put them in the center to buffer the noise. I know that's not the most attractive thing to have in the middle of town, but we can build an enclosure like this," he said pointing down at the page before looking up to find himself being rewarded with a beautiful smile.
"You knew all of this?" she asked, the smile permeating her voice.
"I didn't grow up on a farm, but my grandpa had one. I picked up a thing or two," he said modestly.
"So you were just holding out on me…"
"Nah...I was just havin' some fun," he assured her. "I wouldn't have left you hanging."
"Well, I appreciate it."
"Anytime."
He slid her notebook back to her, and tilted his hand to offer her pen back. She reached for it, giving him one last appreciative grin, before lowering her eyes to take a closer look at the drawing. He smiled to himself as he watched her, feeling content because she was.
xxx
"This place is run pretty much like a hotel," Jesus informed the group as they stood in the grand lobby area of the large brick building that was the centerpiece of Hilltop. "Most of the rooms were converted into living quarters. Some people prefer to have their own space like out in the trailers, but others like being together in one place. Feels safer. We've got a couple of vacant rooms here, so this is most likely where you'll be staying tonight," he said as he pointed up toward the doors lining the exposed landing of each story of the building. "Come on, I'll show you around."
Daryl, Glenn, Maggie, Abe, Rick, and Michonne followed behind him, Michonne trailing behind the group as she took in the surroundings. It reminded her of a grand hotel from another era, all trimmed out in dark woods. Brass fixtures and flocked jewel tone fabrics added to the opulent feel of interior. It was showing some wear, and it was far too classic and formal for her style, but she couldn't deny that they had tried to make something of this place. She drew her eyes away from the high ceilings, and looked forward to find that the group had gotten ahead of her. Rick noticed her absence, as well, looking back at that same moment to seek her out. She caught up with them at the bottom of the grand stairwell as they began to make their way up the the second floor. They passed a series of doors as Jesus walked them toward the clinic facilities.
"Jesus, wait!"
The grouped turned to see an older, grey haired gentleman who had popped out from behind one of those doors. He had a goatee and was wearing a white dress shirt tucked into grey slacks and secured with a pair of suspenders.
"You can continue showing them around, but I'd like to speak to whomever is in charge of this group-have a little meeting of the minds," he said with a wink.
Compared to Jesus's friendly, easy-going manner, his fellow community member seemed awkward, even with his attempt at levity. Jesus took a few steps back toward the man in the hall, giving him an apologetic nod before introducing him to the group.
"Sorry guys, this is Gregory. He keeps the trains running around here, makes sure everything is on the up and up," he explained.
"I'm the boss," the man clarified for the group's sake.
Jesus paused for a beat, as if he wanted to let that awkward assertion clear the air before continuing.
"Rick is the guy you're gonna wanna talk to," he said to Gregory as he motioned toward him.
"Michonne, too."
She looked up at Rick, surprised to hear him invoke her name.
"Of course, I'm sorry," Jesus said to Michonne before he turned to Gregory to make eye contact for the first time since he'd appeared. "They're good people," he said with a steady gaze and low voice. Gregory nodded before returning his attention to the group in front of him.
"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you all," he said grandly with an odd flourish of his hand. Any sincerity was undermined, though, by him turning his focus to the two named leaders before he even finished. "Rick, Michelle. Please join me," he said as pointed down the hall toward the open door of what looked to be his office.
"It's Michonne actually," she corrected flatly as she walked behind him. She'd only just met him, but he was already rubbing her the wrong way.
"Of course. Sorry about that," he said over his shoulder as he led the two of them down the walkway of the second story landing that was open to the lobby area below. "Not sure what kind of place you have, but a place this nice, it takes a lot of work to keep up with. I'm sure you can appreciate that."
Rick and Michonne looked at each other quietly from their place behind him and out of his view. She gave a slight roll of her eyes, and nudged his arm with her elbow.
"We can appreciate that," he said noncommittally.
It must have sounded like a compliment to Gregory, however, because he turned and gave them a huge smile while he ushered them into his office, pointing them toward the upholstered Queen Anne style settee that sat in front of his fireplace. He dropped into the leather wingback chair across from them and leaned back, folding his hands across his protruding pot belly while he studied them for a moment. Michonne crossed her legs and leaned against the back of her seat as she folded her hands in her lap and appraised him, as well. Rick could see her matching his posture, and he smiled inwardly at this man's unfortunate mistake of thinking he was dealing with anyone less than equals.
"Tell me about yourselves, what did you do before this?" he finally asked.
"I was a sheriff," Rick volunteered first.
"Lawyer."
"Isn't that perfect? Assuming you were on the same side," he said as he started to laugh at his own joke. His laugh was phlegmy, one of those that turned into a cough if it lasted more than a few seconds.
"What did you do?" Michonne asked instead of responding to his joke.
"Business man," he said as he picked up the pitcher of water setting on the coffee table between them and poured himself a glass.
The vague response sounded like the career aspiration of a school age child, not the way a grown man spoke of his career. If she had to guess, the only business he dealt in was used car sales or pyramid schemes judging by his slick, impatient manner. He chugged the glass of water and set it back down on the table before continuing.
"I trust Jesus talked to you about setting up trade between our communities, and you must be amenable, otherwise, you wouldn't have come all this way."
"I think there's a more pressing matter we need to discuss," Rick said.
"Oh?"
"We know about this Negan guy and the Saviors or whatever it is they're called."
"I see." He warily eyed the two people sitting across from him, not expecting to have this conversation yet.
"Some of our people encountered a group of them on the road a couple weeks ago," Michonne added. "We were concerned that Jesus was connected to them, but in talking to him, we discovered that we may have a common threat."
"May have a threat? I'm confused. Have they not found your community yet?" Gregory asked as he leaned forward in his chair slightly.
"No, not this group," Michonne answered.
"And the Saviors your people ran into on the road...how did that end?"
"We took care of them," Rick said simply.
Gregory looked at the two of them, trying to figure out whether they were just bluffing or potentially that terrifyingly strong because in his experience, Negan and his men were not something that were easily taken care of.
"I see. Well, they know you exist now, so they'll be knocking at your door any day now." He seemed to relish having this upper hand and decided to use it to its fullest benefit. "In all honesty, the trade Jesus is seeking out isn't just for our benefit as you can clearly see that we do just fine on our own," he said as he gestured to his surroundings. "We keep Negan and his men out of our affairs by supplying them with food and other resources in exchange for taking out the dead in the area."
"That doesn't sound like he's out of your affairs at all," Michonne pointed out. "How much are you supplying him with?"
"Enough to keep him happy," Gregory answered evasively.
"Do you ever go out there? Beyond the walls?" Rick asked.
Gregory let out a guffaw, the length and volume of which seemed a bit too much for Rick's straight forward question.
"Now why would I do that when I have all of this?" Michonne and Rick stared back at him awaiting his answer. "No," he said more seriously. "Not anymore. There's no point."
"So you don't even know if the threat of walkers is serious enough to continue with this arrangement?" Michonne asked.
Gregory took a sip of his water and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Look, there's no way out of this, and the deal we have with them right now is working. If you want to learn that the hard way, you're welcome to."
There was a knock at the door, and a middle age blonde woman poked her head in before Gregory could answer.
"In a meeting," he bellowed impatiently.
"I know, I'm sorry," she said in a rushed apology. "But we need you for a moment...Ethan's back," she added cryptically as she glanced at the unknown visitors.
"Right," he sighed before standing up from his chair. "I have something I need to deal with. Landlord issues," he said in jest. "Find your group and finish taking a look around. Jesus can show you where everything is. Take some time to consider our offer for trade. We can meet again in the morning."
He joined his assistant at the door. Michonne could hear their whispered conversation start once they left the room and fade as they walked down the hall. She looked over at Rick who was staring straight ahead, his brow creased in thought as he absently rubbed the pads of his fingers together.
"Well that went well," she said as she leaned back into the chair.
"He doesn't have a clue about what goes on out there…"
"Jesus will."
"Agree. Let's go find them."
xxx
Since the individual living quarters didn't contain working kitchens, all meals at the Hilltop were served cafeteria style in a communal dining hall. Jesus led the group through the line where they piled their plates high with fresh vegetables, grains, and the protein of the day which was venison thanks to a lucky hunting trip by a few of the community members.
He set them up at a table at the edge of the dining hall and gifted them with a bottle of grain alcohol he and his friend had distilled over the winter. He chatted with them for a few minutes, making sure they were comfortable, before allowing them some private time to relax and discuss their day.
"None for me, thanks."
Michonne returned the glass decanter of clear liquid to an upright position and pulled it away from Maggie's glass, but still held it in her hand in case she changed her mind.
"You sure?"
"Yeah. As good as I feel about this place, I think at least one of us should be completely clear, you know?"
Michonne set the decanter on the table with a slight frown, and eyed the glass in front of her.
"Now you're making me feel bad," she said as reason and responsibility overtook the small part of her that had allowed herself one celebratory pour.
"No! That's not what I was trying to do," Maggie insisted as she reached across the table and pushed the glass toward her. "You, of all people, deserve that drink. For everything you've done back home over the past few weeks, we should be toasting you."
"Stop," Michonne said sincerely as she held up her hand. "It's been a team effort."
The men flanking them patiently watched their exchange as they held their drinks in hand, ready to toast, and more importantly imbibe, until one of them finally broke down.
"This is the part where you say thank you, 'Chonne," Daryl piped up from across the table. "Also if the woman says drink, you drink. That's just good manners so far as I see it."
Michonne chuckled at his interesting take on manners then lifted her glass eliciting him to mumble 'bout damn time under his breath.
"Thank you..." she said as she tilted her glass toward Maggie. She wasn't one for long-winded speeches like Abe or freely sharing her emotions like Maggie, but when she looked at the people that surrounded her and considered the hell that they had just been through, she felt compelled to speak. "I just want to say that I don't take moments like this for granted anymore. I'm happy that you made it back to us," she said looking directly to her left at Abe then across the table at Daryl and Glenn, "and I'm incredibly grateful that you're all lending your skills and strength to rebuild our home. You're my family, and there's no one else I'd rather do this with," she finished quietly with a soft smile.
Upon hearing her say those words, the room went silent for Rick. All of the chatter and clinking of dishes and glasses faded away as he looked at her. For as many times as he'd referred to these people as family, he couldn't recall a time he'd ever heard her say those words. He knew that she felt it by her dedication and actions, but there was something about hearing her finally say it that made his heart swell.
He reached his left hand around her back, and placed it between her shoulder blades, rubbing in gentle circles. She glanced up at him, and gave him a shy smile upon feeling his comforting gesture.
"You're gonna make me cry, Michonne," Maggie laughed as she raised her glass of water in one hand and cleared the tears welling in the corner of her eye with the other. "Damn it."
"Back 'atcha, darlin'," Abe said as he raised his glass, as well.
"To family," Glenn announced.
"To family," Rick repeated, his voice rising above the others as they brought their glasses together in the middle then to their respective lips, the fiery liquid eliciting instant reactions.
"Ungh, that burns good," Daryl said with as close to a smile as he came these days.
"Yes, indeed," Abe agreed as he clinked glasses with Daryl across from him and went in for another sip.
"Woo," Michonne mouthed quietly as she exhaled a long breath as if the air would cool the burn in her chest. She looked to her right to find Rick looking down at her with a grin. "And I'm done," she said to him as she set her glass down on the table.
"Yeah," he laughed in agreement. He appreciated a stiff drink every now and then, but this was on another level.
The group finished their food and drinks, staying at the table long past the time the other community members had left and gone about their evening activities. It was a rare circumstance to find themselves in, a safe place with no responsibilities at all. There was no work to be done, and these were not their walls to protect. They were free and relaxed, and their lazy evening reflected that. Eventually, though, the group began to split. Abe and Daryl took the empty decanter and went off in search of a refill and smokes, and Maggie and Glenn headed off to bed to turn in for the night.
Michonne watched them leave then turned her body to face the man that had been sitting at her side all night. She wasn't drunk from the one sip of alcohol she'd had a couple hours earlier, but her face felt warm and her head was buzzing as if she was. The smile still hadn't left her face from the last laugh they'd shared before the group scattered and went their separate ways.
"What's that look for?" he asked in a low drawl as he leaned in close to her even though they were the only ones left in the room.
"Nothing. I'm just good."
Her response brought the smile back at his face, and he nodded in satisfaction as he straightened up in his seat.
"You up for a walk? I wouldn't mind taking another look around for ourselves."
"Sure."
He pushed his chair out from the table then stood fast enough to catch the back of hers and pull it out the rest of the way. She paused for a moment, unsure of what he was doing, then thanked him for the chivalrous gesture and paused to wait for him as he pushed the chair back in.
They walked out of the dining hall side by side, and set off to tour the grounds. It was dark now, but scattered lanterns lit the narrow dirt path that ran around the community. Most people were tucked in for the night, but a few folks were still milling about, and they were mostly friendly, greeting the new guests with a quick hello, but respecting their privacy.
"What do you think of this place?" he asked as they strolled along.
"I'm impressed. They got a lot right."
"Well, you know it takes a lot of work to have a place this nice…" Rick said in a mocking voice.
She looked at him for a moment with wide eyes then began to laugh quietly.
"God, I had to bite my tongue," she said shaking her head at the recent memory.
"Me too."
"This place is nice, but I'm partial to my hardwood floors, granite countertops, and stainless steel appliances," she said with an unapologetic shrug. "Honestly, if I could merge the two, I would. Their location, numbers, and resources with our infrastructure would be ideal."
"We're on our way," he said assuredly as he walked alongside her. "We haven't figured out what our strength is yet, but we will."
She came to a stop on a portion of the path that was bordered by a steep drop off leading down to the wall, but he walked ahead a few more steps before he realized he had lost his partner. He turned back to find her looking at him, an almost dazed look on her face.
"You mean that?" she asked. It was the most positive, hopeful statement she'd ever heard him make about Alexandria, and she wanted to make sure that she wasn't misunderstanding him.
"Of course I do," he replied in earnest as he walked back to her.
"What about you? What do you think of this place?"
"It's solid," he admitted.
"You can be honest."
"I am. Like you said, they got a lot right," he agreed. "Gregory? He's strikes me, and I'm pretty sure you, as an asshole," he said with a laugh that grew a little louder when she nodded her head affirmatively, "but I think he's being upfront about the desire to trade and the Negan situation."
"I agree."
"Problem is, we don't have the material resources to do that. Not yet."
"Well, if Eugene can make good on the munitions production, that would be key."
He agreed that it was the ideal plan for the future, but it was nothing they could bank on now. He had his own ideas, but wasn't sure how she would take them.
"There's something else we can offer them in the meantime, though."
"What's that?" she asked.
"Protection," he said simply, noting immediately that the idea was not met with enthusiasm on her behalf. "These people are untrained, they don't know how to fight."
"So we'd send our people here to provide security? It's one thing to ask them to fight for their home, but for someone else's?"
"But it is for us, Michonne." He leaned in closer to catch her eye and placed his hand on her upper arm, partly for emphasis and partly to make sure that she stayed to hear him out. "We have something special, something worth protecting. So does this place. If there's someone out there threatening to take that away from us, we have to face it. If we all band together, I think we can."
"We've been looking for you two."
He stood to locate the origin of the voice and let his hand slide off of her arm. He saw Glenn and Maggie walking hand-in-hand up the path from behind Michonne.
"Hey," Rick called out to them. "Yeah, we were just taking this place in."
They stopped and gave their friends a smile as they joined them, then turned out to look beyond the wall. The night was cloaked in darkness, but the silvery light of the nearly full moon shone down upon the trees below and the open sky was dotted with hundreds of tiny sparkling lights.
"Incredible view, isn't it?" Maggie asked almost dreamily as she looked up at the sky.
Rick took a moment to take a look at the view himself which was indeed lovely, but difficult to enjoy at this moment as he began to feel uneasy about their visit since they were supposed to be fast asleep by now.
"It is. Everything OK?" he asked as he turned to look at them.
"Yeah, there's just something we, uh, wanted to talk to you about," Glenn admitted.
He lifted their clasped hands, and covered hers with his free hand then looked down at her. She looked up, smiling back, then gave him a nod. Michonne let out a small gasp as she instinctively brought her hand to her mouth. She knew exactly what this was, and she felt her eyes begin to sting with tears of joy for her friends. Glenn looked back at Rick and Michonne, pausing to smile, before he made their announcement.
"Maggie's pregnant. We're having a baby."
Michonne dropped her hand from her mouth and stepped toward Maggie with open arms, wrapping her into a tight embrace as she whispered her congratulations in her ear. Rick stepped closer to Glenn, and stretched out his hand for a handshake before pulling him into a loose hug.
"Congratulations," he said with a smile, genuinely happy for one of his oldest and dearest friends left in this world.
"Do you know how far along?" Michonne asked as she pulled away from Maggie, and slid in front of Rick to given Glenn a quick hug.
"Probably two to three months? I made an appointment to see their doctor tomorrow morning before we leave."
"He's a trained surgeon," Glenn added. "Jesus mentioned that they've had a few pregnancies here already, all delivered safely."
Rick and Michonne exchanged a quick glance, both sensing that this was more than just a celebratory visit.
"We can send Denise to train with him," Michonne offered immediately.
"You should, for the future, because she'll need to know, but we can't take that chance," he said as looked down at Maggie.
"I understand," Michonne assured them.
"Is this permanent?" Rick asked.
"We don't know," Glenn answered honestly.
"You're still family," Maggie stressed, trying to regain some of the joy that they'd lost. "No matter what, we're gonna be in each other's lives, even if we're not right next door…" She looked pointedly at Michonne and reached out for her hand. "This isn't goodbye yet. We're comin' home to get things in order first, so let's not do this now," she said as she blinked back tears despite her hopeful sentiment.
"You're right," Michonne said as she squeezed Maggie's hand in hers. "I'm so happy for two. You're going to be amazing parents," she finished as she began to blink back tears of her own.
"Thank you," Maggie whispered back.
"We haven't told anyone else about the plans or the pregnancy. It was important to us that you know first, and as soon as possible so you can take it into consideration while you're working things out," Glenn said.
"I appreciate that. We'll keep this between us until you're ready," Rick assured them.
"Well, I think we're going to go to bed for real this time," Maggie joked. "We'll let you get back to your night. See you tomorrow at breakfast?"
"Yeah," Rick said warmly. "We'll see you then. Good night."
Rick and Michonne quietly watched them turn and start to make their way back to the main building, still a bit stunned not so much by the news of the pregnancy, but that they would be losing two of their people. Once they were far enough away, Rick sighed and glanced down at Michonne. She looked his way, trying to offer up at least a sad smile, but the tears in her eyes gave her away. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his side with no resistance on her part. Instead she let her head rest against his chest and wrapped one arm around his lower back and let the palm of her other hand rest against his toned belly. He lowered his head and pressed a soft kiss onto the top of her head, quietly remaining in their embrace while he looked out over the walls of Hilltop for a few moments.
"I don't know if she or Carl ever told you," he started in a soft voice, "but she was there for Judith's birth. She had to…" he hesitated as he recalled that day, "make the cut. Lori insisted, and she honored that wish. With what she's seen and done for my family, they have nothing but my blessing. It's gonna hurt like hell to lose them, but they don't have a choice…"
"No, they don't. Not when it comes to your child," she murmured into his chest.
Your child. She came to them alone, but of course she belonged to someone or had someone who belonged to her at one point. And as time went on, his suspicion that the someone was a child grew. Based on interactions with his children, her priorities, her heart; he knew what it was, but he didn't know the details. He always figured she would tell him in her own time, and never imagined crossing that line until tonight.
"You know that first hand, don't you?" he asked gently.
He could feel her tense briefly against him before pulling her head away from his chest so that she could face him. When he saw her face, she wasn't surprised or upset. The tears had stopped, and she seemed almost serene.
"Yes," she said softly. "I lost my son and his father early on...I went on a run, and when I came back to our camp, it was already over."
His mind flashed back to the moment a few weeks earlier when he came into his battered community to find his children safe in his home with this woman. It was the same situation, but it played out differently for each of them through no action or fault of their own.
"What was his name?"
"Andre," she said with a soft smile. "He was almost three...Mike was his father's name. It was just the three of us, me and my boys," she added wistfully before breaking eye contact for a moment while she looked out over the walls.
"I have no doubt that you did everything you could for them," he offered as he looked at her, his arm still loosely slung around her shoulder. She looked back at him, and nodded lightly.
"I didn't believe that for a long time; it's only in the past few months that I started to accept that. Everyday it gets a little easier."
"I can tell. The person that I met at the fence that first day compared to the one standing next to me right now…" he shook his head, truly amazed by the transformation he'd seen her go through over the past year.
She had kept this part of herself from him for so long, and in this moment, she couldn't understand why because it felt so easy and right to share it with him. At another time, perhaps it would have been different; marked by tears and angst. Today, she felt nothing but relief and acceptance. She leaned back into him, allowing herself to physically feel as close to this man as she did emotionally. They stood there making up for all of the times she wanted to reach out, but couldn't either due to her own constraints or those beyond her control, and she imagined he was doing the same.
"I wouldn't have taken my chances standing this close to you back then…"
"Yeah, I wouldn't have let you," she deadpanned. She smiled as she felt his chest heave with a silent laugh.
"I'm happy for you, Michonne," he said as he rubbed his hand up and down her arm. "You deserve this-everything. The recognition, the respect, community, family…"
She tilted her head up to look at him, offering a small appreciative smile.
"You do, too, Rick. It feels good," she admitted. "I want that for you, as well."
He closed his eyes for a moment, considering what it would feel like to be whole again, to allow himself to move forward. He would never forget the past, but he could finally take that step from just being able to function again to actually accepting it and living. He opened his eyes to find her still holding his gaze, holding him to a response. There was no need to force his hand, though, because he'd already made up his mind. He wanted to be on the other side of his pain. He wanted to be where she was.
"I do, too. I'm almost there."