A/N: Okay, Dear Readers, this is it. Are you sitting down? Good. Let's get to it.
Present time
10.3910° N, 75.4794° W: Cartagena, Colombia
Rick's POV
I keep my eyes focused on the road ahead as my guide, on loan from my contacts, is at the helm of the car; Michonne is in the backseat. It's good having people who can help in these situations; people who are just as fucked up as I am; people who would do just about anything.
Desperate people.
That's how I feel in this moment. I feel like I am desperate enough to do anything. I am about to do something that most people would think was monstrous. I'm going to find my ex-wife and I'm gonna kill her.
Memories of our life together before all of this happened flash in my mind's eye. Lori was sweet and pretty. She was good to me, and I was good to her. But there was always this sense of discontent with her; a restlessness. As if what we had together was never enough. Like she was always looking somewhere else; looking at someone else. Searching for something outside of our quiet, homely life.
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't angry about her betrayal. I am fucking fuming. Maybe I should have killed her when I had the chance. I gave her the option to leave, and she did, but I know within my soul that if the Feds find her, she's going to squeal. No two ways about it: That woman has only ever cared about herself. She won't even bat an eyelid as she gives me up. I'm gonna have to kill her.
xXxXx
Michonne's POV
I wonder what he's thinking. He's quiet as we ride to the place his contact said Lori was being held. Nothing happens here without them knowing, and that's a little worrying; still, they found her in record time. They snatched her up. We'll get to her before the Feds do.
I wonder if Rick is going to be able to do it? Kill his ex-wife, I mean. He did let her go before; showed leniency I haven't seen him grant before. I guess we'll see soon enough. Rick hands over the cash to the guide as we come to a stop outside of a small corrugated iron shed. A man with a gun is guarding the door. He eyes us, and then when the guide points to the bag of money, he nods his head and approaches. Rick and I exit the vehicle as the man with the gun opens the bag. When he is satisfied with its contents, he reaches into his pocket and retrieves some keys. He dangles them in front of us, then points to a car, before gesturing toward the shed and two gas cans nearby. He says nothing, but we get the gist. Rick takes the keys from him and then he leaves with the guide.
It is hot and stifling inside of the small shed. A solitary light globe sways overhead and does little to stave off the darkness inside. I watch from the side. Rick paces in front of her a moment, and then wipes the back of his hand across his lips. He looks down at the woman who used to be his wife, and then speaks.
"I'm gonna take the gag off and ask you a question," he says evenly. "Don't scream; no one will hear you either way."
She is pretty shaken. There are tears in her eyes. The first thing she asks for is her daughter.
"She's safe," Rick replies earnestly.
"I want to see my daughter!"
"Shhh," says Rick as he stares down at her, unblinking. "She's safe. Someone's takin' her to the police station. Everyone knows who you are, now. They'll get her back to your ma and daddy. She'll be okay."
Tears stream from her eyes and run down her face as she sobs.
"You're a monster," she says to Rick. I look at him to see if it affects him; if it does, he doesn't let it show. "What happened to the great guy I married?"
I see what she's doing. She is bargaining for her life. Buying time; trying to appeal to the sentimental side of Rick Grimes. But he isn't the Rick Grimes she used to know. He is a changed man: A monster, like she said.
"The great guy you married?" asked Rick as he tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes. "The guy who wasn't good enough to have a family with? The one y'all left to die? That great guy? Nah, he's gone. He died a long time ago."
Rick cocks the hammer on his pistol, stares down at Lori, and then aims the gun at her. She drops her head.
"Just do it," she says not looking up at him, and it hits me; this is the final way that she will hurt him, forcing his hand like this. After everything she has done, this will be her last act of spite toward him. I can't let this happen.
"Rick," I say. "I'll do it."
"You don't have to," he replies, looking over at me.
"No, I know," I say quietly. "But I want to. She wants you to do it. One last thing to hurt you. I won't let her. I won't. So, let me do it."
…..
After Rick leave's the room, I turn the gun over in my hand. I know she's watching me. Maybe she thinks I'll take pity on her. Untie her and tell her to climb out the window while Rick is not here. That I'll save her, one woman to another; that I'll reunite her with her daughter. That I'll spare her, so that Rick won't have to feel any more regret; or any more remorse. So that Rick won't have lost another person. The thing is, he lost her a long time ago. Also, I don't care about her. It's hot in here and I want to go so Rick and I can start living our new life. I am trading her life for our new one, and I don't fucking care.
"This is for leaving him to die," I say coldly, as I aim the pistol. "This is for betraying him."
I place the gun to her forehead.
"I guess I should thank you," I offer.
"For what?" she asks, as the tears run down her face, leaving me to feel nothing for her.
"For doing what you did to Rick," I say sincerely. "For creating this monster. If you hadn't, I probably never would have met him. So, thank you."
"You're just as fucked as he is," she says. "You're –"
Her words are cut short as I pull the trigger. The back of her head erupts as the bullet exits; blood and brain matter cover the wall of the small, tin structure. He lifeless body slumps in the chair. I drop the gun beside her and then make my way to the exit. Rick is standing not too far away. I walk over to him, take his hand, and then say, "Burn it to the ground."
xXxXx
Rick's POV
I grasp both of her hands and she rolls her hips, sliding up and down my hard cock. She stares down at me, and I look up at her, so engulfed by love and lust that fucking her feels like catharsis. The light sheen of sweat that's clinging to her perfect skin illuminates her. She feels so good as she rides me that I want to close my eyes, but I can't look away. I never thought I could love anyone like I love her; I never thought I could be so consumed with anyone the way that I am with her. Michonne. My partner; my equal. My lover; my destiny. The only warmth in the coldness of my heart; a mirror to my broken soul. Beautiful, perfect Michonne. With blood on her hands and my name on her lips as she comes undone.
"Michonne," I breathe, as I come, too. "Oh, god; Michonne."
xXxXX
Michonne's POV
I hear the shower shut off. Moments later, Rick steps out of the bathroom. His hair is still wet and he is wearing nothing but a towel. I swear I could go another round with him. I don't know what's come over me. Maybe it's all of the violence of the past few days that's got me worked up. Maybe I'm afraid that this is all we will have: Fucking in the safe houses until we can truly get to safety.
I mute the television.
"We have to leave soon," I say.
"We will," he replies. "What're the reports sayin'?"
"Your face is all over the news," I supply.
In addition to his charges under the RICO Act, Rick is wanted for evading arrest; conspiracy to commit murder; murder; and kidnapping.
"Mine is, too," I say.
"They got your name up there?"
"No," I say. "Still keeping my cover."
"Good," he says. "At least they're lookin' after you."
"Yeah, but for how long?" I ask. "How long before they figure out you didn't kidnap me? If my cover's blown, it puts you in danger with your associates and contacts."
He sits beside me and cups my face.
"That won't happen," he replies so sincerely that I fully believe him. "And even if it does, we'll be long gone before then."
I nod my head and stare into his eyes. I never thought I'd love someone as much as I love Rick.
"Promise?" I ask softly.
He presses a gentle kiss to my lips, rests his forehead against mine, and says, "I promise."
xXxXx
Five years later
8°20′N 13°04′W: Bureh Town, Sierra Leone
Rick's POV
The morning sunlight streams through the scant curtains covering our bedroom window. Light caresses Michonne as she is sleeping beside me. I roll over, wrap my arm about her waist, and proceed to pepper gentle kisses over her bare shoulder. She stirs a little and places her hand over mine.
"Mornin' beautiful," I whisper against the soft skin of her elegant neck.
"Hmm," she replies. "Good morning."
I kiss her neck and my hand snakes up under the sheer fabric of her night dress. I cup her breast and then slip my hand lower until I find the warmth between her thighs. She's still wet from the night before. I smile against her neck as my fingers find her little nub.
"We don't have time," she says in weak protest.
I hook her thigh, lift her leg, and then dip a finger between her gloriously swollen lips before saying, "We got all the time in the world, darlin'."
She rolls to her back and we share a slow, sensual kiss. She threads her fingers through my hair as I cup her ass. I kiss her collarbone, then the space between her breasts, and I work my way down her firm body.
I position myself between her parted thighs as I hike the hem of her dress up to get a better view at her lovely, sweet cunt. I kiss the inside of her thighs before moving to her swollen folds. I rub my nose over her sex; her damp curls tickle my skin. I lick the length of her slit before using my fingers to spread her wide open. Her pinkness is framed nicely by her rich, dark skin. My tongue teases and tastes her like it's the first time. I suck her sensitive little bud, coaxing it from its hood. She lets out a moan and I can't help but smile. She grips my hair with her slender fingers as I slip my own fingers into her sopping center.
"Shit, Rick," she whimpers as I suck her clit and finger fuck her at the same time.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
"Shit," says Michonne, tapping me on the head. "Rick."
"Mama? Daddy?" calls a little voice from the other side of our bedroom door. "I'm hungry."
I stop what I'm doing and lift my head to see Michonne covering her mouth with her hands.
"Mama?"
"Yeah, baby," she calls out. "We'll be out in a sec."
I smile at her and press a kiss to her navel before asking, "You really gonna make our kid wait when he's hungry?"
She rolls her eyes and slaps my shoulder playfully, "Yeah, well, I thought Daddy was hungry, too?"
My smile grows wider as I kiss her tummy once more and dip my head again.
"I am," I say, as I lick her pussy eagerly. "I'm starving."
xXxXx
Michonne's POV
Rick's pancakes are to die for. No word of a lie. I didn't even realize he could cook until we ended up on the run together. Five years and three continents later, and he is the one in our home who does all of the cooking.
R.J. sits at the small, round table on the porch of our quaint beach house and looks out over the waves as he gulps down his third pancake. Rick pours some more syrup onto our son's plate, and then points down to the beach at a couple of birds. He and R.J. have found a new hobby: A fascination with the local birdlife. It's so mundane and far removed from the life that Rick and I shared all those years ago. A life that brought us here to this beautiful part of the world. Everything here is mundane and I have never been happier.
After we finish our breakfast, we take a walk down to the water. R.J. sits on top of his father's shoulders. R.J is the color of honey brown, with my dark eyes, and everything else of Rick's. They have the same profile. Aquiline noses, strong chins, and the same mess of loose curls. They even have the same small beauty spot on their faces. My beautiful guys. I love them so much.
Rick lets R.J. down so that he can run toward the water. Rick's hand finds mine as we watch our baby squat down and pick up a stone. He places it in his pocket for safekeeping, and then skips along the warm sand. We find a spot and take up a seat as R.J. plays around on his own.
"I'd love to give him a brother or a sister," Rick says out of nowhere as he places his hand to my leg.
I glance over at Rick and smile, before saying, "Oh, really?"
"Yeah," he replies. "Why not?"
"It's just been so long, I didn't think you'd want to," I say.
"We're settled here," he offers. "No one can touch us. Why not keep building for the future? It'll be here sooner than we realize."
I stare into Rick's eyes. They're serious, but there is a mirth that dances in them, like the flecks of sunlight on the rippling water. I want what he wants, but I'm also so content with what we already have. A life; a family. No more looking over our shoulders. No more running. I lean forward and cup his face before kissing his lips.
"How about we keep living for the present," I say happily, as I rest my head on his shoulder. "And we'll face the future when it gets here."
He gives my thigh a squeeze and then replies, "Yeah, we will."
xXxXx
Rick's POV
One time ago, I lived as if I didn't care about tomorrow. I lived to enact my revenge and to hurt the people who hurt me. That wasn't living. I only existed in a world of shit and blood and bullets. Scheming and lying and finding ways to make money off of suffering and violence. I won't lie and say that the darkness that engulfed me back then is completely gone; I know it still lives inside of me. Sometimes, it's the darkness that keeps you going. It keeps you sharp. It keeps you alive. And it did that for me.
But there's light in my life now; it leaves me feeling almost weightless. It fills all of those empty spaces that were once inside of me. That light is my son and my wife. I live for them, now. Everything I do is for them. And this life that we have here is perfect. Sure, we're far from where we came from, but home is with each other; and I will do everything in my power to make sure we are always together.
I stare out across the water; the moonlight glistens in the soft waves and a cool breeze sweeps across my skin. I hear our front door open and see Michonne sauntering toward me. She is wearing her flowing night dress and looks like an angel under the full moon.
Michonne takes a seat next to me and says, "He's asleep, so now we can talk."
"About what?" I ask.
She reaches over and starts to rub me through my pants. I feel myself growing hard from her attentions. She kisses my neck and then whispers in my ear, "I gave it some more thought and I agree with you; I think we should talk about building for the future. We should build for the future."
She kisses me once more, before she pulls my cock out of my pants. She takes it in her hand and strokes it up and down, causing it to set hard, before dipping her head. She places a kiss to my tip before she licks the length of my shaft. I close my eyes as she takes my dick into her mouth. She clasps her hand at my base as she sucks me off. I place my hand to the back of her bobbing head and relish in the feeling of her skilful lips and tongue.
After a moment, she ceases her sucking and draws my length from out of her mouth. We share a messy kiss as I lift her onto my lap. She straddles me as she hikes the hem of her dress up. She reaches down between our bodies and guides my cock inside of her sweet pussy. She's so wet for me. I let out a moan as she envelopes me.
"Fuck," I say before we kiss once more.
She rolls her hips and slides her tight, wet cunt up and down my rigid, dripping cock. I grip her ass, but she does all of the work. Clenching her walls around me as she rides me harder and faster. I can only sit back and marvel at the beautiful woman who is grinding on top of me. I let her take what she needs from me as she rides me just how she likes to while she chases her orgasm. Soon, her efforts bring her release. When she comes, she lets out a loud moan and her juices coat my dick and my lap.
She shudders on top of me and drapes her arms over my shoulders as her orgasm courses through her. I am still hard and rooted inside of her. I'm not done yet, so I scoop her up in my arms and bring her to the small table on our porch. I lay her down on her back, still planted inside of her, and begin to fuck her.
Her pussy is still pulsing and gushing. I thrust my hips and plunge my stiff, straining cock in and out of her. Hitting her spot and causing her to moan loudly.
"Oh, god, Rick," she whimpers as I drill her.
I reach down and rip open her nightgown before massaging her tits. They spring back and forth with each thrust, gorgeous in the moonlight. She wraps her legs around me tightly and I know she's ready to come again. I continue my onslaught as I grunt and curse. She feels so fucking good. So, so good. Every time we're together like this, it feels like the first time. I am so in love with her. So obsessed with her; so awestruck by her. I belong to her. She belongs to me.
"Fuck, I love you," I say as I spill my seed inside of her; sated, content, and happy. "I love you, Michonne."
"I love you, too," she says, short of breath and glowing. "I love you, Rick."
…..
A serenity has fallen over our home. Our beautiful boy is still sleeping in his bedroom; Michonne has dozed off on the sofa. I sit at the kitchen table and sip my beer as I scan the letter in my hand. The results are from an independent lab that owes Deanna a favor. I'm staring at the page, not really taking in the information. I have looked over it again and again for the past week. It confirms what I had thought for so many years; that feeling that kept gnawing at me. Now I'm holding the proof in my hands: Judith Grimes is my daughter, not my sister, and either way, I abandoned her.
xXxXx
Three months later
25.7617° N, 80.1918° W: Miami, Florida
Nick F Turner's POV
Still gettin' used to seeing mail addressed to this Nick character. It's who I am now. Still, it's fuckin' weird when you've been Abraham Ford all your life. And goddamn it if this heat in Florida ain't worse than Georgia. I miss home, but it still ain't safe to return, after all this time. I walk out to the mailbox in my tank, short shorts, and flip flops. There's never really a lot that comes for me since I live off the grid for the most part, but there's somethin' here for me today. I retrieve the small article and flip it over in my hand. It's a postcard. There's a real nice picture of some white beach with a blue sky on the horizon. When I turn it over, I see that it's addressed to Nick Turner. I still snort, after all this time of living as someone else; it's fuckin' funny. Either way, if I'm gettin' mail, it means someone from my past life is reaching out to me.
The scrawl on the back of the postcard is written in Rick Grimes' handwriting, and reads: We're enjoying the sun over here. Hope you're safe and looking after yourself. We're doing fine. Better than ever. Who knows? Now that the weather's cooler and heat's died down, I could see myself coming home for a quick visit to see family. But, we'll see. Be sure to give my love to everyone.
-R.
A/N: Thank you to everyone who has read this story. I love and appreciate you all so very much.