A/N: Okay, so like...y'all asked, and I've answered. This is the longest chapter I've written. Like, epically long. Not sure if that's a real word or spelled right, but Please drop a review ;) Especially if you haven't before. Let me know what's up!
"Time will see us realign..Come run away with me..." Deftones, "Diamond Eyes"
. . . . . .
Rick pulled up to the school, and saw Lori out there, standing by the fence, waiting on Carl. He parked, took a deep breath, and got out. Quietly, he walked up behind her, tapping her on the shoulder.
"Hey."
Lori turned, hands to her mouth in disbelief. "Rick," she said, flinging herself into his arms. Rick grimaced, letting her go.
"Sorry, sorry," he said, at not hugging her back.
"Oh my god, no. I'm sorry," she said. "I forgot. Why are you out so early?"
"Was going crazy in there...I'm well enough. Had Shane come get me."
Lori picked some invisible lint off of his shirt. "Just don't over-exert yourself, okay?"
"I won't," Rick said, looking away. "Listen...was wondering if you'd be okay with my taking Carl. We won't be out late. Just wanted some father-son time."
"Oh, of course. I know Carl will love that. I'll see you two later at home, then," she said with a smile, squeezing his hand.
Rick watched her walk away, wondering what she would say...what she would do once things changed.
. . .
"I'm so glad you're out, Dad," Carl said, smiling at Rick from the passenger seat. "I was hoping you'd be out in time.
"In time for what?" Rick asked.
"Michonne runs an art gallery, and there's going to be this comic exhibit. I thought it'd be fun to go."
Rick glanced at his son, a small smile on his face. "Yeah. We can do that. When is it?"
"Saturday."
"Okay. Done deal."
Rick pulled up in front of the station, and saw Daryl sitting on the steps, smoking a cigarette. "Hang on, Carl," Rick said, parking and getting out of the car.
"Daryl. What are you doing here?"
Daryl stood, looking annoyed. "Shane said you fled. Didn't know where you went. Thought we were gonna have to form a damn search party," he said, flicking his cigarette away. Rick stopped himself from commenting on the littering.
"Well, I'm fine. Was bringing back the car, but...maybe you and Shane should come with us."
"Us?"
Daryl leaned down, seeing Carl in the car. "Oh. Hey Carl."
"Hey, Daryl."
"Where you two goin' anyway?" Daryl asked.
"Taking Carl to the arcade. And...wanted to run something past you. Both of you."
"Alright. I'll go grab Shane."
. . .
"Holy shit, you got laid. First day out of the hospital and our boy is getting some. You and Lori made up?"
Rick, Shane and Daryl were sitting at table, while Carl played Mortal Kombat on the other side of the arcade.
"Nah," Daryl said. "Wasn't Lori...Was it Rick?"
Shane looked downright stunned. "Is that where you ran off to? Well hell, you know what they say-"
"Don't," Daryl cut in.
"Once you go-"
"Don't," Rick and Daryl said in unison.
"I'm not talking about her like that. We're not in high school," Rick said.
"It's not an age thing, or in Shane's case, a maturity thing," Daryl said.
"Hey-"
"You care," Daryl finished, as if Shane hadn't said anything.
Rick stared at him-both of them. "Yeah...Yeah, she's..." He smiled to himself.
Daryl leaned back in his seat. "Damn, man."
"That good, huh?" Shane asked.
"You just can't help yourself, can you?"
Shane shrugged. "Nope.
"Lori told me back at the hospital...she talked to a divorce lawyer."
"It's really over then," Shane said.
"She's trying to back out of it now, but...I think it's time I talked to one, too. I have to. I can't...can't do this to either of them. Gotta make it right."
"Not sure how Lori will see you divorcing her as making it right, but, I get it. Know who you can talk to," Daryl said.
Rick stared at him, mouth agape. "There has to be someone else."
"I'm sure there is, but, he's good. Really good. Take care of things for ya."
Rick sighed, looking over at Carl. "Yeah. Give him a call. Set it up."
. . .
"Hey. You have fun, sweetie?" Lori asked as Rick and Carl came through the door.
Carl nodded. "Yeah. Dad took me to this arcade with Shane and Daryl."
Lori cocked her head at Rick, curious. "Oh. They were there, too?"
Rick shrugged. "Well, we still had Shane's car and...just decided to make it a boy's day. Reunite the band," he said with a smile.
Lori nodded, though she looked a bit suspicious.
'Or maybe it's all in your head,' Rick thought.
"They wanted to give me a proper homecoming, but, I told them not tonight."
Lori smiled at that. "Carl, honey, why don't you go upstairs and get cleaned up for dinner?"
"Okay." Carl sprinted up the stairs, still on a chocolate shake high.
"I'm glad you're home," Lori said, stepping closer to him. Rick nodded, stepping sideways, then up the stairs as well.
"Gonna go wash up for dinner," Rick called out.
Rick closed the bathroom door behind him and locked it. He was feeling paranoid-as if Lori could smell Michonne on him...
'If she had, she would have said something by now.'
Rick sniffed his shirt-he could still smell her. He closed his eyes, visualizing Michonne...then snapped himself out of it, splashing water on his face. Turning the sink faucet on, he stepped into the tub, sitting down, and pulled out his cell.
"Michonne, hey," he said, his voice softening.
"Rick," she said simply, waiting for him to talk.
"Listen...uh..." Rick shut his eyes tight, his brow crinkling. "Even though you were right, you were also wrong," he finally said.
"What?"
"I do have to figure out my family situation. Figure it out where I don't lose my son." Rick made a face at himself, angry at his choice of words. "I don't want her to get full custody," he amended.
"I understand," she said, her voice sad.
"No, no, you don't. Sweetheart...I'm going to talk to a divorce lawyer before the weekend is up. Already know the guy. But I do have to stay here in the meantime, keep up pretenses." He paused, waiting for her to say something. She didn't. "Michonne?"
"Yeah," she said, sounding tired. "The plan is you stay home, act like everything's the same until you can get the terms of the divorce settled."
"Right. But I'm gonna keep my distance. That I promise," he said.
"You don't have to make promises to me, Rick." She didn't say it with any malice, but he knew she was hurt. He knew it.
"You're right, I don't," he said solemnly. "The thing is, I want to. You have my word, Michonne," he said quietly. "Sweetheart?"
"...Okay. Okay Rick," she said. His heart broke for her; he could hear the tears in her voice. He detested that he was the cause of it.
"Carl told me about the event at the gallery. We'll be there," he said. "And..." he sighed. "I'm going to try my best to see you before then. Sneak away. But if I can't, please know I'm thinking of you."
"Yeah," she said curtly. "I gotta go. My sister and my friend are here. Bye," she said, hanging up before he could respond.
"See ya," he said, putting the phone down. He rested his head back against the tub, wondering how he could fix this.
. . .
Michonne hung up the phone, attempting to control her breathing. She couldn't. She wiped the tears from her face, hating herself for being so emotional and needy.
'He's trying...he'll come through. You'll see him Saturday, if not before.'
Michonne longed to make herself believe it.
. . .
Rick put on his pajamas, dreading going into that bedroom. He was trying to find a way out of it - sharing a bed with Lori - and failing miserably. Nothing was coming to him. Nothing. But then-
"Lori, I was thinking...maybe, maybe I should sleep in the guest bedroom," he said.
Lori frowned at him. "Why? It's your first night back."
"Yeah, but...I tore some stitches earlier, driving - over exertion - and I don't want to be jostled around in bed, ya know?" He tried to look at pathetic as possible. It must have worked, because Lori looked at him sympathetically, nodding.
"Okay, Rick. We'll keep a close eye on that," she said, glancing at his shoulder.
"Thanks. Goodnight," he said, turning to leave.
"Rick-" Lori walked over to him, hugging him gingerly. He lightly pat her on the back, and froze when she kissed his cheek. "Goodnight," she said, smiling at him.
Rick shuffled out of the room, careful not to look eager at the prospect of escape. He lay in the full-size bed that night, amazed that he couldn't wait to see Merle of all people.
. . .
"Well, well," Merle smirked. "If it isn't the boy scout. Go on, now. Have a seat," Merle said, gesturing to the empty seat. They were at the same Tapas place Lori had been to a week ago. It was a popular place for lawyers. "Hope you don't mind my starting to eat without you," Merle said, clearly not sorry at all.
Rick cocked his head at him, smiling, amused. "Nah, you're good. We're good. You ready to talk business?"
Merle wiped his mouth, then took a sip from a wine glass. "More of a beer drinker," he said, gesturing to the glass of white. "But the waitress said this would be better with the oysters." Merle shrugged. "I think the beer would have suited me just fine."
"You can always get another round," Rick pointed out.
"Nah. I'm on the job. One drink. For now. Rick," Merle said, leveling his gaze on him. "My brother told me about this pickle you're in. There's one thing I have to know." Merle smiled, leaning closer to Rick across the table. Rick looked around, then leaned in as well.
"Yeah?"
"Are you boning this new broad?"
Rick sat back, disgusted at Merle's vulgarities.
Merle laughed. "Yeah, you're putting the wood to her good, aren't ya? Mmm, mmm, mmm! Here's the real money question, Officer Friendly. Are you only in this to get your dick wet?" He smirked.
"You done yet?" Rick asked, silently fuming.
"Easy there, cowboy. If you want my help, I have to know everything. And I do mean everything. That way, I won't be blindsided later. Does anyone else know? Besides the other two Musketeers, anyway," Merle said, rolling his eyes.
"No. No one."
Merle picked up his oyster fork again. "Good. Let's keep it that way. No one can know. Otherwise...the missus will have grounds to take you to the cleaners, and have full custody of your boy. We don't want that, do we?"
"No," Rick said quietly.
"Good. We can work on the terms of what's fair in regards to child support-"
"Whatever Carl needs...I'm doing it."
"How noble. But we also have to consider alimony. The best way to keep costs down? Let your wife keep the house. Don't fight her on it. It'll placate her, keep things familiar."
Rick sat, thinking, then nodded in agreement. "Okay. What else?"
. . .
For whatever reason, his schedule couldn't seem to coordinate with hers. Rick found this odd, considering he wasn't actually working and she made her own schedule, but, he decided to not think too much about it. He was working on fixing the situation, and she would see that. She would.
Still, Saturday couldn't have come soon enough.
The outside of the gallery was deceiving. It looked small, but once they were outside, it seemed endless, with long corridors, and had three floors.
"This place is so cool," Carl said.
"Hello. How can I help you?" a young woman asked.
"We're uh...guests of Michonne's," Rick said.
"Ah. She did tell me she was expecting guests. You're Carl, right?" the woman asked. Carl nodded. She extended her hand to him. "I'm Michonne's assistant, Rosita. Noah!" she called out behind her. A gangly, teen boy not much older than Carl came running out of the office. "Don't run," Rosita admonished.
"Sorry," Noah said. He looked at Carl. "Hey. My aunt told me about you. I'm Noah."
"Carl," he said, shaking the other boy's hand.
"You like art?" Noah asked him.
"Yeah."
"Comics?"
"Of course."
"MCU?"
"Duh," Carl said with a smile.
Noah clapped his hands. "Cool. We'll get along fine. I'll show him around."
"Oh, no. I'm coming with you two. Pleasure meeting you," she said to Rick. "Michonne will be out in a moment."
Rick watched them walk down the hallway, pleased to see Carl's excitement at the exhibit, and at making a new friend.
"Carl doesn't have a lot friends."
Rick turned at the sound of her voice. She stunned him into silence. Her locks were curled into soft tendrils, and she was wearing a white, sleeveless, cable knit dress that cut off at the knee, hugging her form, and hot pink pumps. She made him feel like a teenage boy.
Shaking himself, he replied, "No...he doesn't. He's a good kid, though. Great kid."
"Mmm," she said. "Noah doesn't have a lot of friends, either. And he's a great kid, too," she said, smiling at him.
Rick stepped closer to her. "You set this up on purpose," he stated.
Michonne shrugged. "I figured they could both use a friend. And they like some of the same things, so..." She trailed off, looking at his hair, smiling that soft, lovely smile of hers. "You're growing your hair out."
"Well, someone I'm fond of is fond of my hair."
"I'm sure they're fond of you, too," she said softly.
Rick stepped closer still, invading her personal space. "I certainly hope so." He stared at her, and she stared back, neither blinking or backing down, quietly communicating with each other. Rick glanced around, and saw a "Closed to the Public" sign on a door. "And what's over here?" he asked, taking her by the hand.
"It's employees only right now," she explained, although not stopping him. Rick opened the door.
"Good thing I'm friends with the owner, then," he said, closing the door behind them.
"Only friends?"
He pulled her further into the darkened room, then pushed her against the wall, kissing her passionately, desperately, moaning into her mouth. "No. Not only friends. Been waiting to do that."
"Rick..."
"I love how you say my name," he whispered, slipping his hand between her legs, feeling damp, lace panties. "Say it again."
Her breath hitched as he slipped his fingers past the fabric, slipping one inside of her. "Rick."
His eyes nearly crossed at how wet she was. He hitched up her sweater dress as she unbuckled his belt, and unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. He hooked her left leg over his hip and thrust into her. He covered her mouth with his, devouring her pants and moans as she swallowed his grunts. Erratically, he pounded into her. He needed, needed, needed to be buried deep inside of her. He throbbed where she quivered; he dug while she squeezed. He idly realized her high heel was digging into the back of his thigh, but he didn't care; he didn't falter. He pounded so furiously, it eventually fell off her foot, clattering to the floor.
He wondered if he was hurting her - her hand was clutched at his back, the other digging into his scalp, pulling his hair. He released her mouth, looking at her. She was flushed, wanton. Rick could swear she glowed. She gently caressed his face, and Rick came undone right there.
Spent, his head dropped into the crook of her neck as he slowly slid to his knees on the floor, taking her with him, still buried inside of her. She let him go, getting off of his lap with a feminine grunt, collapsing next to him.
"Shit...my legs aren't working," she said, wiggling them a bit.
"I'm sorry."
She scoffed. "The hell you are."
He laughed, sitting up a bit, tucking and buttoning. Michonne stood, adjusting her underwear and dress.
"I have to go to the bathroom."
Rick picked up her shoe, standing. He turned, kneeling before her, picking up her foot. He stared at her pearly-pink toes. "You're so girly," he murmured, ticking the bottom of her foot, making her jerk away, laughing.
He looked up at her. "I love your laugh. And your smile." He took her foot once more, placing her shoe back on.
Michonne smiled again, looking away, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I'm...I'm gonna-"
"Yeah."
"See you out there," she said with a wink, walking away.
Rick stared, taking in every sway of her hips. He wondered how he would be able to go home without her.