A/N: More domestic fluff. Rick Dreams. Michonne chases the nightmares away.
When the nightmares started, the easiest way to calm Rick down was to hold him. The dreams came fewer and further inbetween now as the horrors of the past began to soften with the addition of their recent unexpected blessings. Nevertheless, Michonne had a system in place, a surefire way to calm her lover's fears.
"Shhh…" she soothed, sitting up slowly. Rick was trembling beside her, his skin flushed and heated, his muscles spasming with a series of twitches. Michonne lifted their covers, creating space. Methodically, she began to inch forward, walking her hands along Rick's body.
She traced the tan and scarred skin, dancing over old wounds, new scrapes, light brown hair now flecked in white. His hands were calloused, hard from work, from fighting, from defending their community. She continued up his arms, corded tight, to his shoulders. Inch by inch, Michonne rubbed the tension away before coming to settle atop him. For her final piece de resistance, she lifted her hands to cup his chin.
"Rick," she murmured, bending to kiss him lightly. "It's ok. I've got you."
He woke up suddenly, his eyes snapping open. His arms closed around her on instinct, crushing her against his bare chest, covering her. "'Chonne," he rumbled out the clipped version of her name, shaking his head as though to clear his mind.
"I'm here," she told him. Absently, she began to drag her fingers through the short hair of his beard, tugging just slightly. He leaned into her touch. A silence stretched between them, comfortable and warm, with neither making any motion to release the other. "What was it?" Michonne asked.
"The road that night," he said simply.
Michonne remembered it well. She nodded, lying down, pressing her head into his shoulder. Rick kissed her forehead immediately.
"It's been a while since I thought about that," Rick whispered. He swallowed thickly. Michonne wondered vaguely which part of it all haunted him the most.
"You saved us that night," she reminded him of the result, of the reason for his violence. She kissed him again, lingering this time. He claimed her mouth with his own, tugging at her locs. Michonne swung one leg over his waist, determined to thank him for all he had done, all that he continued to do. Rick responded eagerly, lifting his hips to meet her.
"I love you," he told her, his hands gripping her waist, guiding her motions.
Michonne bent over him, peppering his face with kisses, spurred on by his breathless groans. "I love you too," she promised.
When she had worn him out, Rick fell asleep beneath her, arms still wrapped around her waist. Michonne listened to his steady breathing, the rhythm lulling her back to sleep.
Together, they both slept soundly.
