I don't own the walking dead

Thanks for the review on the previous chapter. Thank you for patiently waiting. Three more chapter, and this fic is over. Good news I have everything written.

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Chapter XVII: A corpse in the trunk


Monday 3 a.m.

"Where are you going?" Michonne whispers while Rick silently leaves the room.

Rick stops, and he returns toward the bed. Michonne watches his silhouette move with efficiency in the dark. He crouches by the bed to be at eye level with her. Michonne's hand immediately reaches for Rick, and he kisses her palm. She sighs and rubs the sleep away.

"You should be sleeping, princess," Rick's voice has kept the coarseness of sleep.

"You should follow your advice,"

Michonne's fingers close around his shirt, and she tightly holds on to Rick. Her nails scratch his collars while creases appear on his shirt. Rick wraps his hand around Michonne's one.

"I promise to be back," Rick decides to address Michonne's fear.

Michonne leaves the bed, and Rick rises with her. She does not want to disturb Carl and Andre, and so she leaves the room. Rick immediately joins her in the corridor.

Michonne stares at Rick, and she watches him pretend that he cannot read her thoughts. Somehow, he does not want to face his fear reflected in her anxious eyes.

"I want to know about the shit you're planning," Michonne yawns.

Rick defiantly cocks an eyebrow, but Michonne does not bulge.

"I'll worry less if I know why you're leaving," She asks with a pointed look at his appearance.

"I'm goin' to murder someone, princess." Rick deadpans with a certain amount of provocation.

He waits for Michonne to react. She blinks for a few seconds. Somehow, she forgot that side of Rick. How could Michonne remember his barbarism and ruthlessness when she sees him being a family man sharing a bed with their children?

"You don't have to know everything,"

Rick tenderly caresses Michonne's face, and she leans in his softer touch. She sighs, and she does not want to know how much their love cost.

"I want to save you," She feels the impulse to confess with a modest tone.

Michonne gazes at Rick to confirm that he understands what she needs to express. Rick chuckles, and it is out of amazement. MIchonne's random waves of innocence always astonish him. The horrors, which she endures the last months, have not ruined her soul. Nothing sounds more like Michonne than her statement.

"I don't need saving," Rick retorts when he retrieves his voice, "In case you have not noticed, I'm the man who coerced you into fucking me." He offhandedly says, "I isolated you, and I made you mistrust the police because I needed a good fuck..."

Michonne stares at Rick, and she notices the hidden anger. Every word is a response to an offence, which she never meant to do. "I ain't some lost soul. Sweetheart, don't do that," he flippantly adds. "Don't get your hope high, and I won't turn into a white lamb. You're not going to change me into a better man."

Michonne silently watches Rick, and she reads the hesitation. For a few seconds, she has no response to offer to his statement.

"I'm in love with you, and I ain't on the path for rebirth. I ain't your responsibility. If you want to work on saving soul, find a charity case," Rick finishes his frustrated rant.

There is more to his abrupt disappointment with her words. He does not want to be a pet project. Rick demands that Michonne loves him as the man whose time and experience have forged into a ruthless monstrosity.

"Tell me why you need to murder that man,"

Michonne wisely picks her battle. She recognises his vulnerability. She reaches for his hand when he takes too long to speak.

"Took your suggestion and decided to handle the situation with delicateness," Rick explains with twisted glee, "going to scare Eugene."

"Eugene?"

"The key to solving all my ...our problems," Rick corrects himself.

"And he needs convincing," She pursues in the line of Rick's implications.

Rick does not respond. His silence is a boisterous challenge, and he shows a clear interest into Michonne's intelligence.

"A corpse in the trunk," she slowly says.

Rick chuckles at the reference. There is almost a sense of pride toward how she thinks as fast as it does.

"So you're going to back him in a corner until he has no option but to align with the lesser of two evils," Michonne elaborates her theorisation of Rick's next move. "That plan only works if you cannot sense it," she finishes with a tone, which speaks volume.

"You had me fooled," Rick has a small smirk forming on his lips.

His fingers carefully frame Michonne's visage, and he looks in her eyes. Her glistening eyes are the opaque skylight to a brilliant mind, and it should not come as a surprise that she saw through his best play.

"fooled would imply that I won," Michonne counters," I figured you out."

Rick nods, and he becomes slightly curious. He cannot resist the impulse to ask.

"What gave me away?"

Michonne searches her memory for that singular moment when it became clear that Rick had a plan, which she could not counter.

"Your good cop act," She takes a few seconds to find the perfect words to explain the flaw in Rick's armour. "I'm a lawyer, although a rusty one, I can see when someone is following a script."

Rick is sceptical. He cocks an eyebrow, and he silently prompts Michonne to prove her claim. Michonne decides to drive her point across with a tangible explanation.

"Let's say everyone believes you're that friendly guy. They ignore the details. For me, it was easy to spot those details. When you went off script and bit Dixon's head off, he instinctively cowered. Now, Dixon is the ultimate piece of shit. If you deter him, you're dangerous. Add to it that you're openly undressing me with your eyes, and I'm uncomfortable with it for all the wrong reasons. I had to obsess about the details." Michonne finishes.

"That's a fucking smart way to say that you saw through me because you wanted to fuck me, and it didn't sit well with our perfect princess." Rick crudely summarises.

"Yes," She offers the most simplistic answer.

"So why did you let me win?"

Michonne laughs and she threads her fingers in Rick's curls.

"You didn't win. I compromised to win time, and so I could work out something. The arrangement was a bone." She softly says, and she waits for his wounded ego to surface.

However, it never does. Rick's eyebrows fly to his hairline. He is not only humbled, but he is curious. He quietly prompts Michonne to unfold her master plan.

"I had no intention to help you find Mike. I stupidly thought he would return, and we could run from you as a family." She shakes her head, and she adds a depreciative laugh.

"But you told me,"

Michonne smiles, and she cradles Rick's face. She leans closer to him, and she kisses him.

"I chose you. Forever the romantic, I wanted to run away with you." Michonne confesses.


Monday 3: 45 A.M.

The pieces fall in place too effortlessly, and it unnerves Rosita. She throws the file after reading the first lines. She senses the oddness of the situation. Rosita's fixation explains her need for the truth. The word obsession sounds violent, and she prefers to think of it as an attraction.

Rosita has a strange fascination for Rick Grimes. Men like Rick do not attract her. However, Rick draws her. She blames her inclination on time, which she spends with him. That attraction drives her belief that Shane needs his named cleared. She wants Rick to have a sort of gratitude because she restored his best friend's name.

As for now, Rosita only finds incriminating shreds of evidence against Shane. Michonne is everywhere Rosita looks in Shane's apartment. She is an obsession for Shane. Every picture on the wall or the table corroborates Michonne's claims. However, Rosita refuses to believe Michonne's innocence. Her scepticism is not rational. It has jealousy as a foundation. Rosita saw how Rick looked at Michonne. There is reverence in the way he says her name. Those are details, which she cannot ignore.

Rosita shakes her head, and she struggles to quiet those clouded emotions. Her heart influences her judgement. However, she cannot help but portray Michonne as some Jezebel. Every thought ends with Michonne taking the role of the mastermind who unfolded the chaos, which is the Anthony murder.

She stares at the different pictures of Michonne. It is creepy how she is omnipresent in Shane's apartment. Between the photos, there is a robe, which belongs to Michonne. Rosita recognises it as the one, which she wore when she discovered her husband's body. The sight of the negligée repulses Rosita, and she wonders why Shane kept it.

Rosita drags a chair, and she stares at Shane's walls. Between Michonne's pictures, there are some of Rick's ones.

"Why was he following you?"

Rosita takes Rick's picture from the wall. She does not want to listen to her brain's suggestion. The connection is a simple thing to form. Rosita stands, and she picks Michonne's negligee. The blood has long dried on the silk, and it is evidence of Mike Anthony murder.

"Michonne," Rosita says, and her eyes drift on Rick's picture in her hand.

She wants to exonerate Shane for Rick's sake. It might be a hard task. However, she has a plan.

"Michonne," Rosita begins to pull the pictures from the wall. She pushes the robe in a bag, and she grabs anything of relevance. Rosita leaves Shane's apartment through the window, which she broke.


Monday 4: 25 A.M.

"Tyrese says he woke up," Sasha announces as Rick exits his car.

Rick does not immediately reply, and he walks to the trunk of his car. He opens it, and he seizes the neck of a bound man in the back.

"Good," Rick replies," Handle this," Rick adds as he throws the car's key to Sasha.

Sasha catches the keys, and she enters the car, which belongs to Rick's future victim. She begins to check the glove box, and she throws out the things, which she considers of any value.

"A sadist," Sasha shows the hunter knife to Rick.

"I think it is a recruitment policy from these guys," Rick replies, "we're pieces of shit, but they take it a step further. " He chuckles.

Rick slightly shoves the savior.

"Well, think about it when you handle him," Sasha adds, and she continues to search the car. "No girlfriend, no loved one, and no one is going to look for him." She states when she finds nothing, which suggests any familial ties.

"I checked before, Sasha," Rick rolls his eyes," I haven't forgotten the rules. I created those rules." He deadpans.

"Excuse me for thinking that you're a reformed man," Sasha snorts, "you're retiring to be a good dad and the perfect husband," Sasha teases.

Rick laughs at his right hand's antics. He leans against the car, and he shoves the tied man to the ground. Rick searches through his pocket until Sasha passes him a cigarette. It is old and broken, and it belongs to a man who he is going to kill. Rick does not mind, and he lights the cigarette.

"I think she is going to ask me to stop soon," Rick sighs, and he blows the smoke from his cigarette. "Something about the children and smoke."

"You quit the biggest drug for her," Sasha points out," smoking is nothing compared to walking away from the empire, which you built."

Rick sucks his teeth, and he blows more smoke. He passes his hand through his hair.

"It's the right time for an exit," Rick sighs, "the princess has gone through enough shit, and I'm trying this present father thing." He draws more smoke from his half-consumed cigarette.

"She wouldn't leave you," Sasha knowingly says," Michonne almost shot Tyrese. I don't think she cares about your daily occupation." she adds.

Rick knowingly smirks, and he throws what left of the cigarette on the floor. He remains silent for a second. He does not doubt the veracity of Sasha's words.

"Do you regret dragging Daryl into this life?" He asks," I know she won't leave. The pure and pious princess would try to save me, and I would turn her into the most vicious bitch." Rick confesses, "I'm ready to be happy. It has a lot to do with Michonne, but she isn't my moral compass. You see this mess never ends. I'm fucking tired. Tyrese is over it, and you're fucking exhausted. I got the balls to stop before someone kills me for being an old fool like I did Deanna." Rick finishes speaking, and he moves away from the car.

"If you wonder, Michonne ain't mad at you," Rick adds while he closes the car's door.

"Alright," Sasha smiles, "I'm not mad she tried to kill us too," she adds with amusement.

Sasha's phone begins to ring, and she quickly picks it.

"It's Tyrese." She adds after a few minutes of conversation.

"Retirement has to wait," Rick jokes, and he crouches to grab the savior's neck, "A sadist hunh?"


Monday 7: 19 a.m.

The room spins, and the bright led lights assault his eyes. Eugene immediately closes his eyes to stop the swaying motion. Each part of his body hurts. For a few seconds, he is confused. Last night's events give him whiplashes.

"Fuck,"

He attempts to sit, but he cannot move. He looks at his arm where sits handcuffs. Eugene's mouth is dry, and he has an atrocious headache. He moans and grunts at every movement, which he makes.

"Fuck," he cries while reaching for the other side of the bed.

"Might want some water..."

Eugene immediately recognises the voice. He stops moving as to no provoke him. The man already shot him once, and there is no need for a second time. Eugene clearly remembers the words, which he heard before fainting.

"Aaaaahh..." Eugene screams, and he begins to attempt to break free.

"For fuck sakes," Tyrese sighs, "don't be a fool! Screaming won't help you." He pulls out his police badge.

Tyrese drags a chair near Eugene's bed, and he casually sits.

"Half of the men out of this room are cops who would be jerking off at the thought of you screaming and suffering. You're a fucking cop killer in case you missed it." He deadpans.

Eugene does not care for Tyrese's words, and he screams louder. His survival instincts are presently kicking, and he needs to escape Tyrese.

"Room four o one," Tyrese says when he calls the nurse's desk," the patient is going through psychosis." He finishes.

Tyrese casually smiles, and he returns his attention toward Eugene.

"Maybe you need some meds to keep you in a vegetative state." He adds with a soft tone, which almost mimics empathy," After all, you're a psycho. I wonder who would get to you first. Negan? Any of these cops? You should scream louder and let them know you're awake."

Silence occurs in the room, and Eugene takes in Tyrese's words.

"You work for Negan," Eugene stutters.

Tyrese leans forward and he looks down on Eugene.

"I owe him," He corrects, and Tyrese knows what part he has to play in Rick's plan," I shot you, and you fucking survived. I guess I paid what I owed." He finishes with indifference, "Now, I work for the man with the best offer for your head."

Eugene freezes, and fear fills his eyes. He attempts to scream. Tyrese grabs the bedsheets covering Eugene, and he begins to shove it in Eugene's mouth.

"How did a bitch like you make it into the mob?" Tyrese wonders, "You're a fucking singer." He shoves the bedsheet with more strength. "Do you lack common sense? I have been alone with your ass before you opened those dumb-looking eyes. You're still breathing. Let's keep it that way."

Tyrese sighs, and he furiously looks at Eugene. He hates babysitting. However, he owes Rick one after last night.

"Your lil' head is precious," Tyrese continues, "Someone wants you alive." He sucks his teeth, "Negan wants you dead," He adds with an amused smile. "Either way, I win." Tyrese finishes speaking, and he pulls the sheet out of Eugene's mouth.

"I have money," Eugene blurts out.

Tyrese laughs, and he drags the chair impossibly close to Eugene's bed.

"You're going to jail as soon as you leave this bed," Tyrese points out.

"But you can get it," Eugene sounds desperate.

"You indeed lack common sense," Tyrese deadpans," What you had now belongs to the police. Whatever you have hidden will be under investigation. I'm not dumb. Taking your money is being a full-blown fool like yourself." Tyrese slowly draws a picture for Eugene, "Don't worry! I have offers for your head."

"I'm doubling what they're going to pay," Eugene insists.

"How sweet, you don't have that type of money," Tyrese mocks," That is big mob money. You know they're all after you." He adds with a look, which speaks for itself. "He is after you." Tyrese rises to leave the room.

"Who?" Eugene hurls with fear.

The nurse, who Tyrese called, enters the room. Tyrese takes hold of a screaming Eugene, and the nurse injects the sedative.

"Thank you," Tyrese tells the nurse.

She nods and leaves the room. Tyrese watches as Eugene begins to slip toward sleep.

"Goodnight, cop killer."


Monday 5 : 26 P.M.

Rick wipes his hands, and he throws the knife by Daryl's feet. He looks around the room, and he sighs.

"Going to have to burn it," Daryl puts words on Rick's thought.

"Yeah," Rick agrees," It feels like I have been doing nothing else these last days," He adds while he slips out of his shirt, and he wipes his face to clean the blood staining it.

"This ain't the time to regret shit," Daryl knowingly points out, "I'm starting to be okay with this retiring plan."

Rick raises an eyebrow, and he is sceptical about Daryl's claim.

"Got into this mess for Sasha," Daryl reminds Rick," I'm glad to make it out alive. You should be glad too." Daryl drawls, and his facial expression drives the message across.

"What makes you believe that I ain't glad?" Rick counters.

"You look like shit, and it ain't because your wife died. You have your princess, and turns out that is enough pussy for you."

Rick chuckles, and he cannot argue with the truth. He does not know how to explain it. Rick's instincts are shouting that he made a mistake, but he fails to pinpoint when it happened.

"I fucked up," Rick plainly says.

Daryl stares at him for a few seconds, and he shrugs.

"Then fix it," Daryl deadpans.

Rick laughs, and he would like it to be so simple.

"If only I knew what I need to fix," Rick sighs, and he wears a clean shirt. "I will deal with it when the time comes."


Monday 7: 29 p.m.

Tyrese convinces himself to remain calm when he returns to Eugene's room and find Rosita conducting an interrogatory. He looks around the room, and Rick's absence is alarming. When he notices that Eugene is in no state to respond lucidly, Tyrese feels relief.

"Do you want to fuck it over for all of us?" Tyrese asks as he drags a chair from across the room.

Rosita closes her carnet, and she turns to face Tyrese.

"You shouldn't have left him alone," She replies with annoyance," the man has been screaming like a lunatic about corrupted cops." She adds with a clear expression of frustration.

Tyrese remains himself not to panic. He looks at Eugene, who is nothing more than a blubbering mess. Tyrese laughs, and he forcefully conveys the mocking tone of his laugh.

"Did he not kill one?' Tyrese impassively asks.

"Maybe," She defiantly replies.

Rosita's tone displeases Tyrese, and it increases his suspicion. He decides to take a defensive stance.

"What else did he say?" Tyrese knowingly inquires.

Experience allows him to understand that Rosita is withholding information. Her demeanour only confirms Tyrese's doubts. She fails to hide her discomfort at Tyrese's question.

"He said that he killed the wrong man," Rosita reluctantly replies," He wanted to kill Shane Walsh," She adds with a quiet tone.

Tyrese looks at Rosita, and he would like to know the entirety of what Eugene said. However, he can formulate the question without steering her attention toward him. Tyrese reigns on his curiosity.

"Wonderful, we have a confession with no way to use it." Tyrese mockingly claps, "Don't they teach you how to do proper police work?" Tyrese says with disdain, and he needs to get rid of Rosita. "If it is to fuck up as you did now, you stay away from the suspect." He continues with his gaslighting, "You gave me legal ground to escape whatever obsessive thing that made you question a drugged suspect before his formal arrest. Do you know what the actual fuck you're dying?" Tyrese intimidatingly asks.

Rosita blinks the frustration away, and she cannot deny her mistake. She did not think clearly, and she has done so in a few days.

"It's my fucking suspect," Rosita refuses to back down.

"I remember your master asking to go play fetch," Tyrese counters with cynicism.

"Fuck you, Williams." Rosita begins to lose her temper.

Tyrese laughs and he is hiding his panic. Tyrese refuses to allow an enamoured woman to ruin their exit because Rick obsesses her.

"It won't help you into Grimes' bed." Tyrese smiles, "Now if you don't mind, some of us have the legal right to do our job." He dismisses Rosita.

She angrily walks out of the room. Tyrese drags his seat toward Eugene. He should have killed the man, but Rick and his ludicrous plan require the fool to remain alive. Tyrese has no trust for Rick's plot.

"What did you tell her, cop killer?"

Tyrese knows there is more behind Rosita's behaviour.


Monday 9: 15 p.m.

The slap's impact awakens Eugene. He groans, but no sound leaves his mouth. He tastes the fabric on the tip of his tongue. Eugene begins to panic, and it leads to the cold blade of a knife caressing his neck.

"I heard you're a banshee," He tugs the gag around Eugene's mouth. "Remember me?" The man fills Eugene's vision field.

Rick pulls the knife away from Eugene's throat.

"Of course you do if you tried to kill me," Rick grins, and he looks at Eugene with amusement, "Ungrateful fuck!" He shakes his head in disapproval. "That ain't a way to thank your saviour." Rick raises his knife in hope Eugene will recognise it.

From the immediate quietness falling on the room, Eugene does recognise the hunting knife.

"Doesn't look like anything you can forget. Your lil' friend could wait to slice your throat with it." Rick pulls his phone out of his pocket, "A get well soon gift," He places the screen in front of Eugene's eyes.

For painful minutes, Eugene has to watch a recording of Rick killing the man, who Negan sent to kill him. The cruelty terrifies Eugene, and he cannot move. Rick removes the gag from Eugene's mouth, and Eugene takes a deep breath. Rick stops the recording because Eugene is on the verge of vomiting. He returns the phone to his pocket.

"A thank you goes a long way," Rick drawls," What an ungrateful bastard; your mama would be ashamed." He chuckles, "but you're a rational coward." Rick points out, and he waits for Eugene to play the game.

"Please..." Eugene cries, "Don't kill me...Please," He begs, "I won't say anything."

Rick drags a chair closer to Eugene's bed, and he unceremoniously sits.

"Shush," Rick pets Eugene's head, "I want you to sing for the cops. I want you to say everything you know. Negan will send some else unless you send him to jail." He adds, "you killed a cop for Negan, and now, he wants you dead."

"Please," Eugene continues to beg.

"Relax," Rick says, "I want you alive and talking." He lights a cigarette, and Eugene flinches. "It was a fork last time." He jokes, "you want to live." Eugene wants to speak, and Rick shoves back the gag in Eugene's mouth. "I can make it happen. I can help you get less time. You only have to talk to the cops. Tell them everything about the books, Negan, and why you killed Shane Walsh." Rick pursues, "The offer expires when I walk out of this room." He removes the gag.

Rick stands without asking for Eugene's answer. He does not need to wait, and Eugene begins to call after him.

"Wait," He hurls while Rick opens the door, "He buried the girl," Eugene says with desperation, "I know where Negan buried Andrea."

Rick closes the door, and he turns to face a sweating Eugene.

"I said talk to the cops," Rick smirks," and another thing," He marks the pause by sucking his teeth," Don't go around saying that you killed the wrong man. To Rosita, it's okay, but to anyone else, I will have to kill you." Rick casually adds.

He walks back to Eugene, and he crouches to be at eye level with Eugene.

"What are going to do tomorrow?" Rick asks.

"Say everything to the cops." Eugene rushes to reply. "I killed Shane Walsh because he stole Negan's book. Andrea stoles the book... Negan buried her." He continues to say more to placate Rick.

"Good," Rick leaves Eugene's room.