Chapter 21: Together

A/N: Hello, everyone! As some of you may be aware, I lost all of my updates due to technical difficulties so had to retype everything. My apologies for the delay. Now, there has been a time jump of three years. Everything that happened in between will be explained either by flashbacks or in the dialogue. Get ready for the Richonne reunion. Thank you for sticking with me; please enjoy!

The sun was slowly descending behind the treetops as a soft breeze swept in, rustling some leaves across the unkempt asphalt. Rick zipped his jacket up to stave off the cold that was coming. He returned to his former stance; one hand resting on the barrel of the rifle, the other, near the trigger. His finger poised and ready. He swivelled his body to the east as he stood atop the watch-point. A weary sigh escaped his mouth as he scanned the surrounding area for anything that would give cause for alarm, both dead and living. It was quiet, almost eerie.

The monotony of his sentry duty was broken when he saw Michonne walking up the road outside of the fence. She smiled up at him; her hair was pulled back from her face so he could see her unhindered beauty. He felt warm all over. She lifted her hand and offered him a wave; he felt his heart swell as a smile spread across his face. Then, she disappeared. Dissipating like smoke in the wind. His heart sank as the realization washed over him once more; she was not really there. His mind was playing cruel tricks on him again. It had been years since Michonne had been lost to him, and every now and again, he saw visions of her. His latest reverie was ended and the dull piercing in his chest returned. The wind blew the dead leaves from off of the road.

\m/o.o\m/

She sat on the hard floor in the empty room alone; the light from the candle cast shadows against the wall. The weather was growing cooler by the day. Michonne took a deep breath and then rubbed her hands together. They shook slightly, not from the drop in temperature, but from her grief. She had been crying again. She had good days, surprisingly, considering the world in which they lived; but other days, when she missed her husband and sons, it was bad. Much like the present moment. When one of her other children laughed or smiled, it reminded her of what they had lost. It was then that she stole away from whomever she was with at the time and sought solace the only way she could.

The tears streamed down her face and she did not wipe them away.

"I miss you," she whispered, wringing her hands together once more; her eyes rolled shut. "I miss you and our boys. Judy and Richie are getting so big, now. Remember…" she faltered, her voice uneven. "Remember when we found out that we were pregnant? You were so happy. So happy. And we'd talk for hours in bed about what we wanted for our baby? Well, he's healthy and strong, just like we wanted. And he looks like you, Rick. He looks like you…"

She could not stop the sob that escaped her throat; she wiped the back of her hands over her stinging eyes. And calmed her breathing. "I miss you, Rick. I love you."

\m/o.o\m/

The water from the faucet filled the glass cup, Rick was careful to not let it overflow. He gulped the liquid down before turning just as he heard someone enter the kitchen of his home. It was Carl; he gave his father a questioning look.

"Everything okay, Dad?" he queried, noting Rick's dismal countenance.

"Yeah," Rick replied as he placed the empty cup down on the counter. "Just got a lot on my mind."

Carl nodding knowingly.

"How long will you be gone this time?" he asked, taking a seat at the table; his voice was deep.

"However long it takes," Rick offered, crossing his arms. "We'll go straight to the Kingdom and meet with Maggie and her people there."

"I should be going with you," said Carl, causing Rick to sigh.

"We discussed this before, Carl," Rick reminded his son. "I need you to stay here and look after André."

"I know," Carl retorted. "I know. I just feel like I'm here sitting on my hands doing nothing."

Rick stepped forward and placed his hand on Carl's shoulder; his son was now taller than he was.

"Hey. You're not. The more of us who stay here at any given time, the better," said Rick before shifting back to his previous spot near the sink. "The Saviors could show up here unannounced like before. Let 'em think we're out earning for 'em. We'll have what we need to take the fight to them soon. You'll get to do something soon enough. For now, I need you both here. I need my boys safe."

Both Rick and Carl turned their heads as Andrea came in with André in tow. She gave Rick an apologetic look for seemingly interrupting a moment between the two. The smallest Grimes went to the refrigerator and grabbed something to eat; Andrea leaned against the counter and folded her arms in front of her chest.

"Tara's back," she said, mirroring Rick's posture; he nodded in acknowledgement.

"I hope she's ready to go out again," Rick offered. "Because we leave in two hours."

He shifted from where he was standing and sat at the table with his boys.

"I don't want you to go, Daddy," said André in between bites.

Rick patted his head; his short locs were soft under his father's hand.

"And I don't wanna go," he soothed. "But I gotta. You know that, right son?"

The boy sighed, "I know."

"Hey," said Rick in a slightly more upbeat tone. "If I find any candy out there, it's all yours."

"Really?"

"Yeah," said Rick as he leaned over and kissed his son's brow. "Really."

This caused the child to smile widely. His big brown eyes twinkled with happiness and Rick could not help but be reminded of how much he looked like Michonne.

\m/o.o\m/

The meeting room was small and intimate, a far cry from the auditorium where Rick and his group first met Ezekiel not too long ago. The Kingdom was a good place with good people. An alliance was formed easily between the two groups. They each, after all, were suffering from the scourge that was Negan and his Saviors. He had subjugated them and killed their people; and he wanted more, so much more. The communities of Hilltop, Alexandria, and the Kingdom were going to fight back, but they needed a plan, more people, and a substantial amount of firepower. Their strategic meeting that day was to establish how they would proceed.

Rick sat next to Ezekiel at the large boardroom table; Andrea was to his right and T-Dog directly across. Maggie Rhee, Paul Rovia and Sasha Williams were grouped together. Kind-faced Jerry stood near the door; Tara sat atop a small desk to the side of the room.

"They have weapons," said Tara, her legs swinging freely. "A lot of weapons."

"Do you think we could convince Oceanside to fight alongside of us?" asked Ezekiel, with his hands clasped together, elbows resting on the mahogany finish.

"I don't know," the brunette replied. "They're a strong group, but I'm not sure they want any trouble. I was lucky they let me go."

"We need the firepower. We need the numbers," Rick said, tilting his head to the side.

"We should negotiate with them," Andrea offered. "Tara, you know them; get us close enough and we could talk it through. They have to see things from our view."

"They're scared of the Saviors because of what they did to them," said Tara. "They'll be reluctant to help. To fight. They'll be reluctant to agree to anything, to be honest."

"Well, we don't necessarily need them to agree," said Rick coldly.

"Rick?" said Andrea as she glanced sideways at him; he kept his eyes on Tara.

"Dude, what're you suggesting?" Tara asked. "That we roll up and take their guns?"

Rick shrugged, "It's an option."

"Look, there's another way," said Andrea. "We can talk to them, and if that doesn't work…"

"Then we'll have to take the guns anyway," Rick interjected.

"That would leave them defenseless," Maggie spoke up.

"We should talk to them first, Rick," said Jesus. "Maybe they'll want to join us after they realize what it is we're planning."

Rick sighed and ran his hand over his short, greying beard; he stared off into the corner for the briefest of moments where his eyes found the image of his wife. She looked at him and smiled, as if urging him to take a softer approach.

You're not here, he reasoned silently as he shook his head slightly. You're not here.

A melancholy washed over him as the visage of his beautiful Michonne faded away; a throbbing in his head began.

"All right," he finally conceded. "But can we all agree right here, right now, that if they don't wanna join us, that we're there for the weapons firstly? No one has to die, but we're gettin' those guns."

The members of the group nodded in agreement. Rick leaned back in his chair and twisted his wedding band out of habit. They had a long day ahead of them and would make their next move in the early hours of the following day.

\m/o.o\m/

It was almost serene amidst the greenery near the small settlement; the ocean air was brackish and surprisingly refreshing. Something that could not be said often of the world in which they lived. The adrenaline coursing through Rick was well masked by his stern and focussed expression; he checked his watch once more. Tara had exactly thirty seconds to exit the dwelling and signal that they had a deal; if she did not, they would enact their plan. Rick inhaled deeply, glanced over at T-Dog and then looked back that the ticking seconds hand. When he lifted his gaze, there was no sign that an agreement had been made. He lifted the walkie and said one word, "Go."

The loud crashing sound of the coordinated explosions rang out; Rick and the others made their hasty moves in the chaos. Bullets were fired and the odd scream or two mingled with the sound of a blaring alarm. Residents of Oceanside gathered at the site of their armory and were met by Rick and his group who pointed guns at their heads. In a matter of mere minutes, the women and children were disarmed, rounded up, and taken to a clearing. They sat on the ground while their leader, Natania, was brought over by Tara; Andrea watched through the scope of her sniper's rifle.

"We're sorry it came to this," said Tara, in earnest.

"We want to fight the Saviors," said Rick, keeping his gun aimed on the group; he averted his gaze when he locked eyes with one of the small children, a little girl. "But we can't do it without your guns. That's why we're here. Tara asked your leader if you would join us. It looks like she declined our offer. We don't want to hurt any of you, we just want the guns."

"Then you may as well kill us now," said Natania. "Because without them to protect us, we're as good as dead."

Rick went to reply when he heard the sound of a gun being cocked behind him.

"Don't move, asshole," came a man's voice; Rick went to look at the person. "Don't anyone turn around or I'll put two bullets in the back of this prick's head. Now get on your knees and get your damn hands up!"

Slowly, Rick relinquished his hold on his firearm and let it fall to his side.

"It's okay," he offered, urging his people to do the same.

Rick scanned the area quickly and he saw Andrea, with her hands raised and her own rifle pointed at her, trudging along in front of a hidden figure. Her eyes found his and never left them as the hooded man behind their leader forced him to his knees and pressed the gun to his head.

"Rick?"

He heard his name, but Andrea had not said anything.

"Rick?"

He looked past his friend and saw the image of Michonne standing there. She was not smiling at him like she usually did in his dreams, instead she looked shocked. Her eyes wide and her mouth agape. He saw her lips move as she said his name again; he heard nothing further, like always in those fleeting moments of serenity when he saw his wife. If this was to be it for Rick, the end, he found solace in seeing her face one more time, even if it was only in his mind.

"Rick!" said Michonne as she dropped the sniper rifle and ran towards him. She fell on the ground as he stared at her with an aloof expression.

You're not here, he told himself.

Her shaking hand cupped his face and the tears spilled from her eyes.

You're not real.

"It's you?" she said, more to herself than to him. "It's you."

"You're not here," he whispered, his voice breaking. "You're dead."

The faraway expression on his face soon gave way to confusion. In all the times that he saw visions of Michonne, and they happened frequently, she had never spoken to him. She had never cried. Her touch had never felt this real. Rick blinked quickly a few times and then rubbed his right eye; he focussed on his vision once more. She was not smiling like always; her hair was not pulled away from her face. She was kneeling before him with tears streaming down her cheeks and her bottom lip quivering.

Michonne stroked his face and whispered, "Rick. I'm here."

He narrowed his eyes and tentatively reached up and took hold of her hand.

"Michonne? Are you really here?" he asked, his heart skipping a beat and the tears welling in his eyes; his disbelief giving way to a mixture of feelings that he could not process quickly enough.

Through her own tears she let out a relieved laugh and nodded her head. Rick's breath hitched and the wave of emotion washed over him as he quickly threw his arms around her slim frame. He nuzzled his face into her neck and let out a sob that he had not realized he was holding back as she fell into his embrace. Rick pulled her body so close to his that it almost hurt them both. In that moment, in that place, reunited with his wife, nothing else mattered. Not even the frantic voices and the sudden yet hasty movements of both his people and the Oceanside residents drew him from Michonne; not even the spraying of bullets as the horde of walkers descended on the scene.