Anyone who's stayed any length of time in a hospital will tell you sleep is a futile endeavor. It's a never-ending orchestra of strange sounds, the hiss of oxygen; the grinding bleep of the heart monitor; the rhythmic tapping of feet walking the hallways; the off and on murmur of conversations passing your door. But it was the hourly observations which bothered me most; regardless of how quiet the nurses kept their movements, I was always wide awake the moment they were beside me shining their penlight on my file, fiddling with my monitors, and inflating the blood pressure cuff around my arm. It was a routine I was familiar with from those weeks spent at Grams bedside. It stirred awful memories and triggered a terrible mix of nostalgia and dread.

I slept fitfully that night and stirred after midnight, though sometime in between my hourly observations, an accompanying murmur of a male voice chimed in. A male voice which I knew...Very well.

"It's okay... Let's just... Tomorrow we can..." The words faded between hisses and beeps of the medical equipment in my room.

I winced, pulling myself up in bed from where I'd slumped down during sleep and grabbed my remote. I pressed the nurse's call button, waited a moment until it chimed and I turned it off again. The little light outside my door in the hallway flicked on and then off. I did it again, on and off in repeated succession multiple times, the chime ringing down the hall and the light flashing. A single set of jogging footsteps echoed off the floor and a familiar frame filled doorway way.

"Michonne." My name sounded like a sigh of relief passing his lips.

"It's me, what's left of me," I said wryly.

He let out a dry, tired laugh. "Can I come in?"

Nurse Debbie Warren appeared behind him. She moved around him, looking like she didn't know whether to cry or pull the security alarm.

"It's okay," I said to both of them. "He can come in. We'll be quiet."

"Five minutes," she said, arms crossed.

I switched on the lamp beside the bed. Morgan sat heavily in the chair beside my bed and dropped his head in his hands, dragging his hands across his dark wavy hair. "You're okay." He exhaled raggedly.

I reached over and touched the back of his hand lightly. When he looked up his eyes were puffy rimmed and glassy.

"You look a hot mess," I said, it's unlike Morgan to be unshaven.

He cracked a grin. "Woman, have you seen yourself?" He looped his fingers with mine before I could withdraw my hand. "What happened? I tried calling you…left a ton of messages, we all wanted to stop by on our way back from Atlanta, but you never answered…So I called Maggie; finally, she called me late that night telling me you'd left that morning and hadn't come back. She was hysterical, going on about Noah leading her somewhere...so Carol called her mom to watch the kids and here we are…" He shook his head slowly in disbelief. "Is your ankle broken?" he asked, observing my strapped ankle, still elevated on multiple pillows.

"No, but…but I might lose some toes." He looked alarmed and I felt something inside of me crack. With a wobbly voice, I continued, "Have you ever seen frostbitten feet? They're so disgusting… So, there goes wearing sandals ever again. And they had to shave a patch at the side of my head so they could glue my head where I busted it open. I also have claw marks on my arm that is definitely going to scar." I pinched my lips shut before I started sounding even more pathetic. I didn't even care about those things, not really, but somehow at that moment the idea Rick might not find me as attractive as he used to, completely devastated me. Urgh. Priorities, girl. I had mine all messed up.

"I hate it here," I whispered harshly, and the tears finally spilled over. "I hate hospitals. I hate them so much. I'm so tired, but I can't sleep. It's like trying to relax in this awful tomb of memories from back then. The smells and the sounds… Every time I try to relax it's like I'm being sent back in time and I'm next to Gram's bed, waiting for her to die all over again."

"When do you get to go home?" He rubbed my back soothingly, soothing himself at the same time.

"I don't know… They want to watch how my toes progress over the next few days. Later in the week, I guess."

Nurse Warren walked in again and looked at us expectantly.

"Do you want me to go?" he asked quietly, not releasing me from the embrace. I shook my head. He stood up and squared his shoulders. "I'm not leaving. If you have a problem with that you'll have to physically remove me - but then you'll find yourself dealing with Carol, whom you met in the foyer earlier."

The nurse let out an overburdened huff. Seemed she was expecting this. "Fine. Just be quiet, there are other patients trying to sleep. I'll find you a blanket and a pillow. One time only – this won't fly tomorrow night."

He sat back down when she left and he smiled brightly at me. That's my big bro!

"Thank you." I twisted in bed a little to face him as much as my bad foot and sore head would allow. The room, my condition, and even the events of the last day all seemed to fade away. I let myself relax.

"It's no problem. Sometimes nurses forget that patients are paying customers in hospitals. You have rights also."

We chatted casually for a while and then watched television, soon we both dozed off.

I awoke with the 6 am round of observations. I'd slept undisturbed by my nurse's comings and goings over the last few hours, an extra dose of the pain medication helping to knock me out. I looked across the room to Morgan, asleep and curled awkwardly in the vinyl armchair in the corner, the blanket draped over him.

"I need to use the restroom," I whispered to Nurse Warren who nodded, unhooking me from machines and passing me the crutches. She hovered as I crutched to the small room in the opposite corner of the room. I relieved myself and followed it up with washing my hand and face and then brushing my teeth.

"How are your pain levels?" she asked, after helping me back into bed.

"About a 3," I said, lifting my leg back up onto the pillows that were elevating it. "I'm okay. My toes are throbbing and burning on this foot."

"That's normal. You're nearly due for your next round of pain relief, so that will take the edge off."

Nurse Warren got me all situated. An hour later Carol made my morning by bringing me some of her homemade fudge. While we chatted about old college friends, Morgan went out and brought us back a wonderful breakfast from Sasha's Café. We all conversed while enjoying a scrumptious, maple sausage, eggs, hash brown casserole, with biscuits, and gravy and a large cup of hot coffee. They left around 10 am and Rick arrive shortly after.

"Finally, I get you all to myself." He said smirking at me with those bedroom eyes, he moseyed over to me. God, he has the sexiest strut.

"It was really busy here yesterday." I agreed, "I'm not sure how to feel about half the town making a fuss over me and everyone seeing me look so awful."

"Hey, hey, hey…" Rick scooted the chair closer. "That stuff doesn't matter, Michonne. Your hair will grow back, the scars will fade and I'll still love your funky, gross toes."

I couldn't help let out a watery laugh in response. He leaned over the bed to awkwardly embrace me. I buried my head into his neck, drawing in his scent, I missed his warm and familiar scent.

"Seriously, you went through something unbelievable, out there in those conditions for over a day..." He stared at me in awe for a moment.

"Did you drive the entire eight hours?" I asked, breaking him, from whatever was running through his mind.

"I stopped only to gas up. "The great American road trip I'd always planned," he said, with a wry grin. "I drove faster than I should have, I was only getting intermittent updates from Jessica."

So that's how he found out what was happening here.

"Did you talk her into apologizing to me?"

"No, she asked me if I thought it was a good idea, and I thought it was." His forehead crinkled in a manner which I always find endearing, "You hadn't forgotten after all these years and neither had she. So now you can both move forward."

"Speaking of moving forward…" I closed my eyes and sighed.

"I understand, you were talking about the creature yesterday, not us."

"You were right," I said, placing my hand over his before opening my eyes again. "About how I would have taken the fact you'd had a green card marriage and the weird blackmail deal Andrea struck with you. If you'd told me when we first met I would have judged you terribly. Not as bad as you were making out, but it wouldn't have counted in your favor."

"And how about now?"

"I couldn't give a flying fuck," I said and his face broke out into a broad grin. "Being at the cabin, meeting you… everything else, it's given me perspective. I feel like for the first time it's okay to just let myself be happy. It's okay not to be so goal-oriented or focused on my career or even be so tightly wound. I mean, that's the reason I moved here, isn't it?" I brought his hand around and kissed the knuckles. "I'm sorry for sending you away without giving us the chance to talk about it. It was shitty and cowardly of me."

"I should have told you sooner. I'm sorry I didn't. And I'm sorry that Maggie was the one who broke it to you."

I nodded, unsure of what to say next.

"I'm going to kiss you now." He said and my eyes widened.

"My breath could probably knock out a horse," I replied, too tired to lift my head off the pillow but still possessing enough energy to feel a rush of excitement.

"I couldn't give a flying fuck." He leaned forward to press an insistent, though soft kiss against my lips. His warm tongue slipped forward to caress my own, and I palmed the scruff on his cheek.

"I missed you," he said, absently rubbing my arm. "I left and wanted to come back straight away. I felt like the biggest piece of shit…Karen kept stopping me… She said to give you time. All I wanted to do since Christmas was to come back to you."

"I'm glad you're here now."

"Me too."

"I feel like my whole life was turned up on its head this week," I said quietly.

"It's okay to feel out of control sometimes."

"I'm not the control freak you think I am," I complained sourly.

"You're getting better. It's okay to let go sometimes, Michonne. The world isn't your responsibility."

"Stop being so reasonable," I grumbled. "Can't you just make sympathetic sounds and tell me I'm right?" I shifted a little to face him better. "Did you sort everything out with Andrea?"

He shrugged. "She's being a bitch, dragging her heels. I don't know what her fucking problem is. I told her she can have the house and she still wasn't happy. She didn't even show up for the meeting, she just sent her lawyer."

"That's bullshit, who's your lawyer and what have they advised?" I asked.

Rick went through the details and I moved the electric bed to sit up.

"Leave it with me," I said when he was done explaining. "Don't make any more contact with her side. You've paid more money into the mortgage than she's contributed and you paid the majority of the deposit, even if it was all in her name. It's just as much yours as hers. More so, perhaps. You need better representation, too. Sounds like your lawyer is just phoning it in. My boss has contacts in New York. I'll get it sorted for you."

"Ah, the control freak returns." He smirked, leaning back in the chair, crossing his hands behind his head.

My face heated and I groaned in embarrassment. "Sorry… You're right." I crinkled my nose which caused him to blush.

"No, please keep going. It's hot. My books nearly finished, this could be all it takes to write an explosive ending." He chuckled.

I quickly changed the subject, "What else did Jessica tell you about what happened to me? I wanted to know what the town was talking about, not that I could do anything about it.

"All she'd heard was second-hand information from Beth. Luckily, Aaron's team found you in just a day, thanks to your bother calling and checking on you. Aaron told Maggie that another day and you would have succumbed to the hypothermia. They found you unresponsive, with almost unreadable pulse rate and said you'd had a seizure while they were transferring you…" He ran his hand through his hair, his voice cracking. I'd never seen him at a loss for words before.

"I had a seizure?" The doctor hadn't mentioned that.

"Yes, that's what Aaron said." Rick pinned me in place with his gaze for a long moment before responding, "Seizure, he said your heart rate had slowed so much by the time they reached you, you were barely conscious and they couldn't even find a pulse, you were hardly breathing. Then you had a seizure on the helicopter flight over."

"I only have fuzzy memories…" Aaron's warm smile and the other female ranger's serious expression. I tried remembering more, that feeling that I'm on the cusp of discovering something important was looming in my mind.

Rick stroked my cheek drawing me from my thoughts. He gently tilted my chin and captured my lips with a soft kiss. "The worst is behind you now," he murmured, as we parted. A tingle ran down my spine.

"Not just that... I had coffee with Mara with a few days before."

"She told you to go up on that mountain?"

"No," I said. "I went out and found it...the creature...I followed it…Mara and I worked it out," I explained. "Well, she connected the dots that it was stalking me for a reason. I followed it and it led me through the park and to the place they were killed or disposed of."

He swore under his breath. "Shit, those missing girls?"

"I think so… But I don't know. They're all bones now. Hidden in a cave on a mountain not far from the lake. Maggie's heading out with a team tomorrow to check it out and retrieve the remains."

"Did it hurt you?" He motioned to his jaw. I lifted my free hand to my own jaw and traced the scrapes I hadn't even realized were there. It must've been from when it dragged me through the tunnel.

"Not intentionally. The other injuries," I said gesturing to my foot, hands, and arms. "Most were all my fault."

Rick asked me to recount the whole tale on the mountain with the entity.

Just as I finished, a nurse I didn't recognize came in. Rick used the time to go to the public restroom across the hall.

She went about her routine, checking charts and machines and then pulled the covers on me. "Is he really Richard L. Grimes?" she asked quietly, nodding towards the door.

"He is."

"Oh, my…" She flushed. "I had no idea."

"You've read his books?"

"I own a copy of every single one of his books. Do you think he'd mind autographing them?" She chewed her lip hopefully and fiddled with my fluid line.

"It depends on whether you let me stay tonight," Rick said reentering the room, causing the nurse to jolt in surprise.

"Well…my shift is about to end, but I'm back in tonight, so I think it can be arranged."

"You've got a deal." He winked at her and she turned to me, red patches rapidly rising along the column of her neck.

"Wait till I tell my husband about this!" She left the room with a pep in her step.

"Perks, huh?" I said turning back to Rick, and unexpected warmth crept through my chest.

He snorted. "I think I'm offended she didn't recognize me, to begin with."

"It's probably because you look homeless," I laughed. "Nothing at all like the author portrait on the back your books."

Rick ran a hand through his beard scruff looking vaguely offended. "I'll have you know I grew this roadkill with my own blood, sweat, and tears like a real man."

I sat up in bed and shifted my leg pillows over and scooched over the edge of the mattress as far as I could.

"Well, we've got an hour before the nurse comes back, Mr. Author Manly. If you want to get in for a cuddle now's your chance."

He threw off his brown jacket and jumped on my bed as quick as a wink. One leg wrapped itself around my good leg, his other knee dug into my thigh while his head rested against mine. It wasn't exactly comfortable, but it was nice.

"Michonne, I believe you are what sleeping people call insane, and what awake people call…. awake."

"Huh," I said, letting the words sink in. I felt him shake with laughter, and I elbowed him playfully.

"Really Michonne, who am I to define the limits of what is or isn't real? No one knows for sure. The day my grandmother died, my mom said she received a phone call from her. The line was full of static, but she heard my grandmother say ' Tell Gilly, don't forget the chrysanthemums.' and then the line disconnected. My mom hung up and tried to call her back to no avail. My aunt and my mom found my grandmother in her home that evening; she'd passed away in her sleep in the very early hours of the morning. Long before my mom got that phone call. My aunt said my grandmother had mentioned once in passing that she wanted bouquets of chrysanthemums at her funeral. I guess she didn't want mum and Aunt Gillian to forget."

"Whoa, you never told me that before, but what I've experienced goes a little beyond sweet ghostly phone calls. I wouldn't blame you for doubting me."

"I don't doubt you at all," he said. "You found what it wanted to show you. You can relax now."

I leaned into the warmth of his hard body, his comfort chasing away the lingering chill of fear. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the simple pleasure of being reunited with Rick.