I don't own the walking dead

Thanks for the reviews all along these 21 chapters

This was my first Richonne fic, and it is over.

Please, reviews


Epilogue


Sasha aims her viewfinder on the police trunk. Between now and the next turn, she has five minutes to accomplish her task.

She wipes the sweat on her forehead, and she closes her eyes to clear her sight. So late at night, Sasha's eyes strain to keep up with the target. With a precarious balance, Sasha maintains her upper body out of the car.

"Slow down, Dwight," Sasha demands. "I can't aim at this speed." She explains.

"We can't lose them," Dwight argues, "Once they make it past the next turn, it is over." He repeats what Sasha already knows.

"I said slow down," Sasha does not budge on her request. "We know what we're doing." She confidently says.

Dwight reluctantly slows the car, and he successfully continues to trail the police car. At five minutes of the next turn, he worries about losing the target.

"Here, it's perfect." Sasha says, "Stop driving," she orders.

Dwight is sceptical. There are too many miles between their car and the police trunk.

"We should be closer," Dwight argues.

"Stop the car now," Sasha orders. "Or you're going to explain to Grimes why the job wasn't as clean as he thought it was. He is going to explain to you the chain of command, and you will remember from whom you take your orders." With a few words, she reminds Dwight that she is Rick's second in command.

Dwight begrudgingly obeys, and he abruptly stops the car in the middle of an empty road. He looks at Sasha, and he waits for the next move.

"Thirty seconds," Sasha says. "I'm going to take down any surveillance. You move as fast as you can, and no pointless kill." She explains further, what Dwight and she need to do.

"Three, two, one." Sasha counts down.

As always in perfect synchrony, Daryl's motorcycle cuts the police trunk, and it forces it to swerve and stop. Simultaneously, Sasha shoots the van's back wheel.

The police van flies on the side of the road. Sasha drags down her sky mask, and she pulls her hood. She closes her eye to rest it, and she reevaluates her target.

"Thirty seconds," She reminds Dwight.

In similar fashion with Sasha, he fully covers his face. Dwight and Sasha jump out of the car, and they head to the police van.

Daryl already cuts open the van's door and the police officers who are still conscious attempt to reach for their gun.

"Try it, and your brain will be the new coating of this street," Sasha says while she points her assault rifle to a jumpy officer. "Out one by one." She orders the men who conserved their consciousness after the accident.

The police officers come out of the van, and they kneel on the asphalt. Daryl quickly knocks them out. Sasha searches for the body cam, and she begins to break them. Purposefully, she leaves one unbroken, and she carefully angles them in a way, which does not offer a clear view of the scene.

"Drag him out," Sasha orders Dwight, who quickly climbs inside the police trunk.

"Fuck," Dwight cries after a minute, "Bastard," loud noise erupts. "Fucking idiot," He says with irritation when he resurfaces with his hand full of Eugene's hair.

Eugene's mouth is bleeding, and He attempts to pull away from Dwight. He struggles, but Eugene's efforts are pointless. He looks at the officers who were taking him in the protected house, and they are all unconscious.

"Please," Eugene panics.

"He is all yours, Captain." Sasha purposefully uses a saviour denomination. "Orders are orders."

Dwight kicks Eugene's knees until he sinks in the floor. He picks a gun from one of the unconscious officers, and he points it at Eugene.

"You were one of us, and you know the rules." He aims for the head. "If you don't like the song, silence the singer." He repeatedly shoots straight in Eugene's head.

Sasha breaks the last body cam, and she looks at her wristwatch.

"If you can't make it in twenty minutes, ditch the car." She tells Dwight, "Congratulation, you're the new head of what will remain of the saviours once this night is over." She tells Dwight. "Rick will check in with you," Sasha adds before heading toward Daryl, who waits for her.

Sasha pulls her sky mask away, and she cradles Daryl's face in her hands. She kisses him with eagerness.

"Perfect timing," She tells him," Rick has sent something." She asks as she climbs on the motorcycle.

"Nah," Daryl replies. "Must be shooting Negan now." He explains.

"It is fucking over," Sasha says with excitement.

"Yeah, but we're all going in hiding now," Daryl says.

"Belize is not hiding. That is a honeymoon, baby." Sasha corrects her grumpy boyfriend.

"I ain't a fan of Tropical Island," Daryl says while he drives away.


Rick expects every inch of the chaos unfolding before him. He has thought every word of the questioning. His story is tight, and Negan is dead in the line of duty.

"And you shot him in self-defence," the officer asks.

Rick breathes, and there is no point in rushing the conversation. He has to find a way to tell the same story with new words for the thirtieth time.

"We struggled for the weapon, and he overpowered me. I followed protocols and aimed for the legs. I'm not certain of the order of sequence." Rick repeats. "It was not enough, and I was in a position of weakness. Shooting him was not enough to stop him, and I felt he was a threat to my life. I repeatedly shot him while I panicked and defended myself." Rick finishes, and he prepares himself to retail the story repeatedly.

The officer looks at Rick. He almost believes the story, which Rick sells. However, he must be throughout his interrogation.

"How have you encountered Negan?" He asks for the umpteenth time.

"I was leading the squad in the south quarter of the saviour hideout. We cleared the room, and I took it on me to check the basement while my partner kept the upper floor under control. I announced my move to logistics. I went to the basement, and Negan attacked me." Rick knows the next question, which is a variation of the one before the question he has answered.

"How did you handle the attack?" The officer asks

"I killed Negan when forced to defend my life." He says although exhaustion threatens his calm.

For over three hours, Rick continues to reply to the same question. Each time, he takes a breath to think of the most truthful manner to lie. He leaves the interrogation room late in the morning, and the chaos continues to unfold. Most of what happens are Rick's doing, but he sucks his teeth when he has to deal with unexpected players.

….

"The bureau," Rick takes the coffee cup, which Rosita's offer.

She stops before him, and she extends her fingers to brush his wounds. Rick subtly moves out of her reach. He silently curses his complicated position.

Rosita is a pawn, which he manoeuvres with difficulties. The easiest way would be to give her what he wants, but Rick does not contemplate betraying Michonne. He will laugh at himself if he had time to dwell on his unwavering desire to remain faithful to Michonne. It feels like years ago that he had women waltzing in his bed.

"Turns out Harrison and Blake might have staged the death of multiple agents, and they took over the territory of Gregory," Rosita whispers, and she leans closer to Rick.

Rick notices her need to touch him. She certainly believes the adrenaline of tonight will culminate into something torrid.

Rick shares her though, but he certainly does not reciprocate the attraction. He stands and establishes proper distance.

"They didn't come out that way, but with tonight's debacle, they will try to take over the case." Rosita finishes.

She looks at Rick expectantly.

"A debacle?" He feigns ignorance.

"Porter got shot by some saviours while we were raiding their hide-out. So far, the department is going to push the successful raid. We don't need Porter with Negan dead, but Captain Jones is angry. This is the angle the FBI is pushing to take over Blake's case." Rosita catches Rick up to speed.

"Fucking FBI coming when we have done the biggest part of the job." Rick does not bother to hide his frustration although he disguises it with sentiments, which Rosita shares.

"This entire week is going to be chaos." She agrees with Rick. "You should try to get some rest before it begins. Look at your wound and all. Take a breath and time to relax." Rosita says softly.

Rick pretends to be dense. He knows how subtle her approach is.

"You're right," Rick replies. "I'm going to head home and check on my son." He pointedly reinstalls the wall between Rosita and him.

She hesitates, and Rick is already on his feet. He almost makes it out of the room when Rosita calls for him.

"Grimes," She heads toward him, and Rosita cradles his face. "I know times must be hard for your son and you, and you must be taking care of Carl. I worry no one is taking care of you or giving you a shoulder to cry on or an ear to listen. So I'm here if you need any of those." Her thumbs caress.

"Thank you, but I have a great family. You shouldn't worry." Rick pries Rosita's hand away from his face. "I have to head home." He walks away from her.


Rick silently enters the room, and he only wants to check on Michonne and Andre before heading to Carl's room. When he takes his first step in the room, Michonne switches the light.

"It's a thing now, Princess," Rick asks with amusement. "Are you going to wait every night for me?" He inquires.

Michonne pulls her locks together, and she glances at his face. She yawns and moves out of the bed.

"Yeah," She admits, "I don't have anything better to do besides practising at the shooting range with your father." She confesses. "Plus, I need to know you're safe."

Rick smirks, and he extends his hand for Michonne to take. She grabs it, and he pulls her to him.

"I texted tonight," Rick points out the effort he made to comply with Michonne's request.

"I know," She replies, "and I told the boys you were safe." She adds with a small smile. "But I'm going to worry until you're in bed with me." Her fingers brush the cut on his face.

"Talking about the boys, where is Andre," Rick asks while he double-checks the bed.

"Sleeping in Carl's bed," Michonne replies. "he says I quote he is going to give hugs to Carl to make him happy."

"I think he is getting better," Rick hesitantly says. "Not as good as I want him to be, but he didn't cry last night," Rick says full of hope.

Michonne smiles, and she threads her fingers in Rick's hair.

"He took Andre to the lake today," Michonne smiles, "I think they had fun if I trust your mother. There is no rush. We can hug him every day until he is happy." She continues. "You're doing great." She claims his lips with a tender kiss.

Rick returns the affection. He drags her impossibly close to him, and he attempts to lift Michonne off the floor.

"Fuck," He winces and pulls away from the kiss.

"What is wrong?" Michonne asks, and she pulls out of Rick's arm.

"I had repeatedly to slam myself into a wall." Rick deadpans.

Michonne believes that at one point when they begin to age together, Rick will begin to tell her normal things. Now, she has to deal with the craziest thing he does. Slamming himself in a wall is closer to normalcy.

"And you forgot the why, baby," Michonne is oddly unfazed by his previous statement. She has learned that Rick Grimes is logical beyond words. "While you do that, go and sit on the bed." She says in a tone, which forbids argument.

"I killed Negan," Rick replies, and Michonne stops moving. She turns to look at him.

"We can go home." Michonne hesitantly asks. "We can have our life together," she does not dare to speak aloud.

"Almost," Rick stomps on Michonne's happiness. "But give me days, and then you can begin to think what you want as colours for the walls, Princess," He says to return a smile on Michonne's face.


Rick Grimes has infiltrated his head. Detective Morale is living a life filled with anguish and terror. The entire precinct is suspicious of him, and he can only blame Rick.

He does not know how officer friendly pulled it, but Morales is certain Rick is after him. He sees it in the looks, and he is afraid of what might come. Morales wants to escape the trap closing on him. If he falls, he will take everyone with him.

He looks at Rick's desk, and it is empty. He will not have a better opportunity. He rushes toward Rosita's desk. He knows she has been lurking in his past cases. In a few days or a few months, Morales will be back against the wall.

"Espinosa?" Morales calls Rosita. "Can I have a minute?" He asks while he looks around to check the eyes on him.

"Take a seat," Rosita casually replies.

Morales looks toward Captain Jones office, and Rick is talking with Morgan and a woman who Morales does not know.

"I meant away from prying ears," he clarifies.

Rosita cocks an eyebrow, and she throws a look in the same direction as Morales' constant glance.

"I'm in the middle of a big case, and I cannot just go around to chit chat, Morales." She replies.

Morales wipes the sweat on his forehead, and he leans toward Rosita. She looks into his bloodshot eyes, and all she sees is terror.

"I heard about what you're working on," Morales quietly says. "The unresolved disappearances, Dixon, and maybe Blake. I have shit to tell you." He insists.

"Take a seat, and you know the police procedure." Rosita does not show great interest.

Morales draws a deep breath, and he grabs her shirt. He looks around to see if his little act has drawn the attention. The precinct appears too busy with actual work to care for whispers.

"Yeah and I don't trust anyone in this department. Everyone is corrupted or trying to catch me. I don't fuck with your partner, and I don't think you should too. Talk to me, and I would cooperate." He confesses. "Here, and keep it between us." He shoves a piece of paper between her hands. "You can pick the time."


A bitch, Rick did not have a better word to describe the bureau agent with greying hair. He worked tirelessly on his plan, and some bureaucrat would ruin it all.

"Why should we just give you everything, Agent…?" Rick cannot remember her name.

He only bothers people when they are a solid obstacle. She is out of his reach, but Rick can create a path around her.

"Carol Peletier," she tells Rick, "because we aren't asking. The Blake case will be ours in a couple of days, and we will take whatever you already have. Now, I'm kind enough to ask politely." She replies with disinterest for the anger, which she provokes.

"A fucking three years and you had nothing, and we should trust you to handle it better now. I work my ass off on this case, and you come in and swipe the glory. I decline politely. "Rick rises to leave Morgan's office.

"Sit, boy," Carol tells Rick.

He looks at her, and he does not care enough to play his usual act. Rick sucks his teeth.

"Take your mama's energy to the dick willing to fuck you," Rick replies. "You're going to come here and call me a boy because your hair is greying. I repeat myself, I decline politely, and I will see you in a couple of days when the case belongs to the FBI." He carelessly speaks.

Carol does not flinch, and she decides to undermine Rick.

"Captain," Carol asks Morgan.

"You heard Detective Grimes," Captain Jones sides with his detective. "In a couple of days, you can come to get the files."

Carol stands from her chair, and she goes to stand before Rick. She places her hands on his shoulders, and she straightens the wrinkles.

"I met a lot of ambitious fool like you, detective Grimes." She says with a smile, which carries maternal sweetness that Rick finds nauseating. "Somewhere clever enough to get out of my way or give me what I want. The arrogant fool like you, I crushed them. You think about it, boy. I will wait for a call." She dusts Rick's shoulder, and she steps back.

"You can continue waiting for that call, Peletier." Rick retorts.

...

...

Morgan passes a cup of Irish coffee to Rick. He looks at the younger man, who Carol has aggravated. Rick's combative side comes as a surprise. Morgan had planned to fight Peletier, but he did not expect Rick to chew her off with such passion.

"You don't need the Blake case for a promotion," Morgan says," The Anthony case and how you took out a big part of the Atlanta mob will lend you one. I got an offer for Atlanta's police director, and I would see you take over the precinct." He clarifies for Rick.

Rick could care less for promotion. If the FBI takes over the Blake case, he is finishing in federal prison. Rick smiles, and he drains his coffee laced with scotch.

"Captain," Rick calmly says, "I didn't work my ass off for a promotion. I didn't lose a partner for the bureau to freeload on my effort. The case is closed. We only need to put our hands on Blake." He insists.

"Well, he is nowhere to be found. The FBI has the means to pull the manhunt we don't." Morgan reminds Rick. "There is no point stepping on the toes of powerful enemies. You don't want the type of trouble Peletier is."

Rick chuckles, and she is already too much trouble. He has come too close to losing. He has it figured out. He worked and planned toward an escape. Rick will prefer something meticulous. Unfortunately, he has no choice.

"Morales," Rick replies. "He is on edge, and I made sure to force him into that panic. Espinosa hopes that he will approach her soon. He can lead us to Blake. All I need is an order of arrest. Get me one, and I will deliver Blake to you. You will need it for your promotion because I wasn't the only one who told Peletier to suck my balls." Rick reminds Morgan.

"A couple of days," Morgan says. "I will call in a favour."


"A couple of days," Rick throws the file on the table. "We need to move faster, Espinosa." He says.

Rick sinks in his chair. With Blake being a police suspect, he has lost a chance to handle it in the old fashion way.

Peletier came in to ruin a well-thought plan. Now, Rick grasps on straws. He is threading something approximate to exit without pointless losses.

"Here," Rosita pushes the paper in Rick's hand. "He wants to sing." She proudly says. "I guess having Williams approach him paid off. He is panicking. He wants to talk to me."

Rick unfolds the paper, and he breathes a sigh of relief. He understands men like Morales. He would not care for the honour. He did not expect that Tyrese whispering in Morales' ear would work so fast.

"Keep him waiting," Rick replies, and he returns the piece of paper to Rosita.

"We have a couple of days," Rosita points out. "This is the biggest case I cracked. Some bitch at the FBI cannot step in and take it from me."

Rick looks at Rosita. He cherishes her ambitions without it Rick probably would have to fuck Rosita to keep her under his thumb. He draws a deep breath, and he plays into the mentor role.

"Morales is going to ask for a plea deal. That alone is a month in the making. If you let him hang, he will run to what he knows. He will go to Blake. What I want you to do is to keep an eye on each of his moves. You're going to join Williams, and you're going to watch him for twenty-four hours." Rick softly says. "Don't blow your chance this time. I can't forever give you a new one. I need you to have my back." He manipulates her loyalty with simplicity.

"You know I hate Williams," Rosita complains.

Rick picks the piece of paper, and he laughs.

"Tyrese is one of the best cops around here."


Rick stares at the suburb house. He is rushing the steps. He does not stop to look at the breadcrumbs, which he leaves behind him. He knocks at the door, and he waits.

"Richard," Philip says with a smile. "Come in," he moves away from his door.

Rick reminds himself to walk on eggshells. He walks into Philip's home.

"Do you want anything to drink?" The governor offers.

"I didn't come for pleasure," Rick replies.

Philip laughs, and he pours himself a drink. He drains it and offers a seat to Rick.

"Such a stoic man. I hope you aren't resentful after last time." He asks with amusement.

Rick sucks his teeth, and he hates the bastard. He cannot wait to make him pay.

"I killed Negan," Rick replies, "if I remember, you asked for it. Now, why would I watch your back if I was still mad?" He drags the piece of paper from his pocket. "Here," He gives it to Philip.

"A rendezvous," Philip asks with a certain confusion. "I know I talk of pleasures, but Grimes, I fail to understand why you give me the address of a bar."

Rick cocks an eyebrow, and he takes back the paper.

"I take it you know the place," Rick says.

"Morales…" Philip stops.

"He wants to cover his back. He is meeting my partner tomorrow night. I told her to stall it, and so he can come running to you." Rick explains, and he pushes a lie to start chaos. "I can't clean every mess he causes." Rick stands, and he stops on his way out. "Maybe you overestimated his loyalty."

"I never thought he had one," Philip replies, and he squeezes Rick's shoulder. "I have my ways with loose ends."


Tyrese silently curses Rick, and he waits for his friend to explain the situation.

"Espinosa is a ticking time bomb," Tyrese argues.

Rick agrees with Tyrese's claim. He regretfully has to be a kamikaze and risks it. He drains his beer, and he looks at his childhood home.

"I didn't think the FBI would put their nose in my business. Espinosa has nothing on me. Blake and Morales could drag me down with them." Rick sighs.

He hates to work under pressure. Rick knows he is opening the door to potential failures. He looks away from where Michonne, Carl, and Andre are having a campfire.

"I'm too close to fucking fail," Rick says. "I got you in this mess too." He reminds himself that Tyrese has no left his side.

"I could have gone to a tropical island like Daryl and Sasha. I said no. Don't worry about me. I'm going to keep Espinosa under control." Tyrese assures his friend.

"You should think about retirement," Rick teasingly says.

"I met a lady," Tyrese replies. "It ain't something as serious as what you have with your girl, but I can try settling down. We are all reformed criminals." He jokes.

"Definitely not going to jail because a bitch wants to show her fangs," Rick repeats.

"Yeah," Tyrese agrees. "I'm going to join Espinosa. Captain Jones got the arrest order for Blake. At least, you go."

"One more and it is over."

….

Michonne rests her head on Rick's shoulder, and she has forgotten the eyes around them. The Grimes are not judgmental. Juliette and Carlton have accepted Michonne and Andre in their circle.

Carl and Andre are sleeping stacked on each other. Rick draws a deep breath, and he wants this life. All of his fear about not moving to a quieter life has begun to disappear.

"We can have three more," Rick whispers in Michonne's ear.

Michonne looks at him through drowsy eyes, and she does not know what he implies. Rick points at Carl and Andre's sleeping form.

"I will go for one more and in like five years," Michonne replies.

Rick frowns, and it is his first conversation about what they are doing once the dust settles.

"We can try two," Rick compromises.

Michonne smiles, and she arranges herself.

"It all can wait. I want to go back to work. You made me remember how much I liked to crack cases." Michonne shares with Rick.

"I think I'm getting a promotion at work. Police captain or some shit like that." He tells Michonne. "Does not sound good to begin having more children," Rick admits.

"We will get there," Michonne softly replies.

"I got you a ring, princess," Rick tells Michonne, and he has the box somewhere around the farm.

"I love my watch," She pouts but a smile crosses her lips when he leans to kiss her, and she dodges because Juliette and Carlton must have a bet going on about what is happening between them.

"I know but you will need a ring after the wedding," Rick explains.

"It's almost over." Michonne softly says.


A day following Morales confirms Rick's suspicions. Rosita and Tyrese parked before the suburban house. They attempt to be as discreet as possible.

Morales is nothing but anxious. He does not know what else to do but speak to the governor. He walks into the gated community, and he refrains from sprinting.

"When do we intervene?" Rosita impatiently asks Tyrese.

Tyrese looks at his watch, and he ignores Rosita. She pushes the car door open, and she wants to follow Morales. Tyrese grabs her by the arm, and he pulls her back in the car.

"Do you care for basic protocols?" Tyrese says out of frustration, "Ask for back up, and tell them to prepare for arrest." he orders.

Rosita picks the radio, and she calls for backup. They have to wait half an hour, and so far, Morales has not come out of Blake's home.

"I think it is an execution," Rosita says as she plays again the recording they got from taping Morales home and car.

Tyrese hopes it is an execution. Rick has planned it that way. Blake kills Morales, and the police solve Rick's issue with Philip Blake. Tyrese remembers to have created enough chaos to shoot the governor.

Morales feels the tension in the air. He regrets coming to Philip. However, he knows his days are numbered.

"I didn't think you could be so…" Philip searches for the appropriate word. "I would say a coward, but you're beneath that." He continues.

Morales begins to panic, and he stutters. Philip draws a gun, and he shoots Morales' knees. He watches his right hand sink on his immaculate flour.

"Ready to snitch over a plea deal." He sucks his teeth. "You thought you could outsmart me."

Philip slams the sole of his shoes in Morales' head. He repeatedly does the same thing.

"I don't like getting my hand dirty, but I raised you out of nothing. I should bury you too."

Again, he slams his foot in Morales' head. Morales attempts to crawl away, and Philip shoots in his back.

"Poetic isn't it. As you saw fit to stab me in my back." He cackles, and he walks up to Morales.

Philip grabs the nape of Morales' head, and he pulls his head up. He presses his gun on Morales' head, and he shoots. Blood splatters on his white shirt, and he sighs with displeasure.

Philip removes the silencer from his gun, and he grabs a plastic trash bag. He picks his phone, and he dials Rick's number.

"Come immediately," Philip barks when Rick replies.


Rick looks at his watch, and he patiently waits for the backup team to join Tyrese and Rosita. He knows how it will go with a man like Philip Blake.

"Come immediately," Philip barks when Rick replies.

"I'm in the middle of important work," Rick casually states. "Tying some loose ends of my own." He continues to speak. "By the way, if Morales attempts to join you, he is trying to set you up." Rick finishes, and he hangs up.


Philip does not want to believe Rick's words, but when he looks through his windows, he cannot miss the police flashing lights.

Philip attempts to call back Rick. He repeats the attempts, and Rick filters the call. The governor panics, and he has no choice. He goes through his garage, and he pulls his gun.

In another desperate attempt, he recalls Rick.

"Philip," Rick replies. "I trust they are out waiting for you." He coolly announces.

Philip recognises the gloating glee in Rick's voice.

"Call them off," The governor barks. "Call them off, or I will drag you down with me." He frantically threatens.

"How will you do that?" Rick retorts. "You will claim I killed Andrea Harrison." He laughs when a long silence follows. "Your words against mine. You tied my loose end. The gun I used to shoot her belongs to Shane Walsh. Negan buried her for me." Rick explains how Philip's threat cannot stand.

"You think you're smart," Philip bellows.

Rick's answer is silence. He hears as Philip changes his disposition.

"What do you want, Richard?" He attempts to negotiate.

"Your death," Rick casually replies. "The longer you stay inside the closer I get to have what I want. One or maybe all of the cops outside your home have police orders to arrest you and some have received my order to shoot you." He further instils fear in a man lost in terror.

"Do you wait for your death, or do you run from it?" Rick asks.

….

….

….

Philip drives out of his garage, and he slams into the police cars forming a barrage before his home. His mind rushes, and he feels like a fool.

Dozens of police cars are chasing him. He drives recklessly, and he knows the end will be tragic. His wounded pride consumes him. He drives with no hope of her escape.

The gunshots fill the air. The bullets rain on his car.

He refuses to die humiliated. Philip continues to attempt an escape. He takes a turn, and he slams into a car. He cannot move, and his car is somersaulting.

When the car stops moving, Philip attempts to drag himself out of the driver seat, but he cannot move. The weight of the car traps him.

There is growing heat. The sparks turn into wild flames, which begin to claim the leather of the seats. Ultimately, the flames latch on his skin.

Half an hour later when Rick arrives at the scene. Nothing remains of Philip's car. The forensics pulls melted bones out of the car. His phone, Rick hopes to find it. Fortunately, it has turned into ashes. Minutes after him, Morgan arrives on the scene. He drags him away from the scene, and the upcoming cameras.

"Could have been worse," Captain Jones tells Rick. "Work on your story." He whispers. "This is all now how a long war against the mob in Atlanta ended." He adds while he fixes a smile on his face.

Rick draws breath filled with smoke and exhaustion. He looks around him, and he watches the chaos, which he created to find his peace. Rick pulls his phone out of his pocket.

I'm alive. I have to work late. I love you.

Rick texts Michonne, and he does not have time to wait for her answer.

"Grimes, let go celebrate this." Rosita drags him away.


Rick drains his beer, and he has given enough of his time. The entire precinct is celebrating, but Rick knows that he is free to begin the life he wants.

"You're going to be our next captain," Rosita says with a bright smile. "Captain Grimes."

Rick shakes his head, and he wants to be everywhere but in this bar.

"No one asked me, and I haven't said yes." He replies.

She pushes another bottle of beer before him. Rick disregards it. From her relaxed posture, he assumes she is drunk.

"Drink with me," She prompts him, and she pushes the bottle in his hand.

"I'm okay," Rick replies, "I think I'm going to go home." He adds while he leaves his stool.

Rosita holds his arm, and she drags him to her. She presses herself to him. She reeks of alcohol, and Rick assumes that she finds her courage in the liquor.

"You like to play hard to get," Rosita tangles her finger in Rick's head.

He chuckles, and he pulls her finger off his hair.

"Try disinterested," Rick corrects Rosita.

She frames his face, and Rick is kind enough not to shove her.

"Come home with me." She tells him. "Now, your wife has been dead long enough. We could get this going." She presses her lips to his.

Rick immediately pulls away. He sighs, and Rosita Espinosa has to ruin the night.

"I think you got one or two things wrong," Rick says with exasperation. "I'm not attracted to you. You don't get my dick hard, and my dead wife has nothing to do with it." He bluntly states. "You need to get laid tonight, and the bar is full of dick-rising for you. You should pick one. I will see you tomorrow to work, and I hope you work on your fucking apology. If you can get over whatever you feel for me, you can ask for a new partner." He cuts Rosita with his words, and the harshness suffices to clear some of the fog in her mind.

Rick walks away, and he goes to join Tyrese. Later when he leaves, he notices that Rosita followed his advice. She clings at a man, and her eyes meet Rick's one.

He leaves the bar without a glance.


Michonne drags the cupboard open, and she pulls out the first kit. She comes to stand before Rick. Her hand disappears in Rick's hair, and she slightly tilts his head until he looks at her.

Since his fight with Negan, she tends to his wound. It is a bit of their nightly routine.

"No more loose ends, and we can have the life we want," Michonne says with a voice rich with joy and content.

Rick sighs with content when her nails softly run on his scalp, and her fingers play with the curls at the nape of his neck.

Rick closes his arms around her waist, and he expertly sits Michonne on his lap.

"What did you break this time?" Michonne inquires while her forefinger draws the contours of the bruises on Rick's face. He moans at the contact of her cool finger on his redden and heated skin.

"Do you want to fuck it better, princess?" Rick's hands come to rest on Michonne's lap.

He pushes the hem of her nightgown until his fingers brush the silk fabric of her panties.

"Depends on how bad it is," Michonne replies.

She tilts Rick's head, and she kisses the line of his neck. Her fingers play with the button of his shirt.

"Bad enough that you have to ride, and I have to lay there and watch you have me the way you want and how you like it," He replies.

Rick's mouth closes on Michonne's clothed nipple, and he sucks on the tender flesh. Michonne unbuttons Rick's shirt, and she pushes it off his shoulders. Her fingers carefully explore every inch of Rick's skin. They draw the border of the bruises, which she finds. They are now yellowish, and Michonne does not want to hear never again that he slammed his body in a wall.

From what he told, getting rid of Philip Blake was less eventful than killing Negan.

Michonne kisses the small bruises, and the coolness of her tongue soothes the tingling ache of the ecchymosis.

Michonne's fingers brush Rick's rib, and her nails dig in the space between the bones.

"You broke a couple of ribs last time," Michonne announces, and she places a kiss on his jawlines. "Next time, you do something so crazy as to take the mob on your own. I need you to ask yourself will Michonne like it." She tenderly says, and she closes her teeth on his earlobe.

"You like playing nurses," Rick drags her mouth to his lips. "I'm retired. Now, I'm a neighbourhood friendly officer."

He passionately kisses Michonne. He chuckles when her teeth sink in his lower lip. He pulls up her nightgown, and Michonne raises her hand to help him remove it.

Rick kisses Michonne's breastbone, and he takes her nipple in his mouth. Michonne's arms close around Rick's shoulders.

"Perks of our little arrangement."

He hooks his finger in the waistband of her tongue, and he drags it down her thighs. Michonne stands to pull it down, and she sits back on his lap. The fabric of his pants grazes her bare skin. She pulls on the buttons of his pants until it gives away.

Her hand brushed his clothed manhood. She dips her free hand between her thighs until she works the knot of her desire. Michonne moans, and she closes her eyes.

Rick presses his lips to her slender neck, and his fiery kisses are a beautiful necklace adorning her fragile throat.

Michonne pushes her fingers in Rick's boxer brief, and she closes her hand around his manhood. She works her cunt until she dies of wanting.

Michonne slightly pushes Rick's chest down until he lies down. She lines her entrance with the tip of his dick.

Rick's finger brushes the locks away from her face, and he keeps it behind her head. Rick's hand cradles her visage. His thumb draws her bottom lip, and he looks into the depth of her onyx eyes. It is an overwhelming dive into a soul, which bends and twists to fit with his own.

He drags Michonne to him, and he tenderly kisses her. He clings to her breath, and the taste of happiness ingrained in her skin. Rick looks into the eyes, which drives him insane and cages his heart.

"Let's not fuck tonight," He pleads with a loving whisper. "I want you tonight," He deepens the kiss, and his hand on her hips draws the arch of her back. "I need you to love me because I earned it." He demands while he pushes his dick in her welcoming core.

Michonne moans in their kiss, and she intertwines their fingers. Their hands are clasped as tightly as their lives have been these last months.

Michonne twirls her hips at a sensual rhythm. She wants it to last an eternity. It is slow, and the kiss is lazy. She melts in Rick's arms.

"I love you," Michonne whispers in Rick's ear.

Michonne nests her head in the crook of his neck. He kisses the crown of her head. Rick is deep in her. Her body sings an ode content. Her breath is an assortment of his scent, which later clings to her lung.

His hands dictate the rhythm of her whining hips. She comes undone at each twirl of her hips interrupted by a long and deep stroke of his dick.

She swings at the rift between ecstasy and ataraxia. Her fingers pressed in the lines between his broken ribs almost reaching for the heart locked in the cage of bone.

Rick's fingers leave bruises on her hip, and his short nails dig in her precious skin. He holds so hard because he never felt before tonight that Michonne was his.

"You're mine?" There is wonderment in his epiphany, and a persistent question lies in Rick's soul.

"Always your princess," Michonne's words run like a tattoo on Rick's skin.

Her teeth graze his collarbone, and Michonne leaves her claim. Another thrust and she cannot maintain the gyrations of her hips. Her breath comes in staccato.

Rick's name is on her tongue carrying a sweeter tone. His dick deep in her cunt. Her orgasm built in her core. Her legs tremble, and she shivers in his arms. She falls into a little death. Michonne cannot maintain her rhythm, and she clings at Rick's shoulder while he continues to pull her cunt up and down his dick until he spills his seed in her.

Michonne lies breathless on Rick's abdomen. He closes his limbs around her like a blanket. She kisses his neck.

"I adore you," Rick tells Michonne.

"I know," she chuckles. "I adore you more." She replies.

"It is not a competition, but if it was, I would win." Rick counters.

"We have a lifetime to see it." Michonne frames Rick's face and she kisses him.


A year later

.

.

Rosita empties the champagne flute. She did not receive the invitation, but she had to come. She successfully convinced her partner to take her as a date.

The poor man is in love with her like at her time, she was hopelessly in love with Grimes. It lasted many months, and she hoped Rick would change his mind.

Ultimately, he successfully pushed her away. Rick shackled her with a colleague who only threatens her professional success. Rosita knows it is a punishment.

Somehow, she cannot blame Rick. Her infatuation is an obsession, which she cannot escape. She tried with a few men, but Rosita wants Rick Grimes.

She searches for the Groom's room. In the back of the church, which Rick and Michonne picked for their wedding, Rosita continues to look for the room until she hears the sound of his voice.

Rosita stops before the door, and she knocks.

"Andre," Rick calls, "it is open, son."

Rosita pushes the door open, and she finds Rick and his son, Carl. Rick looks at her, and he remains calm.

"Carl," Rick calls his son, "Go see where your brother is." He demands, "If he is with Michonne, you stay with him."

"Okay, dad." Carl goes and hugs his father. "Don't forget you have to help with my tie. Michonne says it is a father and son thing. So I will come back with Andre, and we can do it together."

He leaves the room with a suspicious glance at Rosita.

"Espinosa," Rick casually says. "You found your way here, and you're sober." He points out.

Rosita sucks her teeth. She picked up alcohol a few months back, and it has a lot to do with Rick and her professional failure. She was climbing the ladder until Peletier blocked her ascension.

"It's a happy day," Rosita takes a sip of champagne. "Rick Grimes is marrying Michonne Anthony." She says with bitterness.

Rick crosses his arms, and he wonders what Rosita will try.

"We have been over this multiple times." Rick laments. "Next, I might require a psych evaluation." He says with a smirk.

Rosita quiets her frustration. She has moved on from Rick Grimes. She is only bitter he took her for a fool.

"I moved on from you." She spits the words. "What brings me here is doubt," Rosita announces. "I got digging when it turned out that Michonne and you were going to tie the note." She says with a small smile. "I will give it to you. I cannot prove it. It is all theories and voice whispering here and there."

Rick laughs, and he is certain she might have figured out his big secret.

"Voice whispering?" He repeats. "Be careful what you say to your captain."

Rosita can care less for semantics. She walks until she stands before Rick.

"You know what those voices whisper," Rosita asks. "Shane Walsh was a sleeve. You are the corrupted cop, the mob boss, and you got us all to do the dirty job for you. We cleaned the city for you, and so you could marry your bitch. I checked it all, and I will give it to you Grimes. Nothing, it is spotless. No, wait a minute, Blake called you multiple times the night he died. I had to check. I look it up. You used me and the entire precinct." She finishes and waits for his reaction.

Rick straightens the invisible wrinkles on his tuxedo.

"Espinosa, you have a vivid imagination." Rick remains unfazed. "Lies, tales, and fallacies do not stand against tangible proof. What do you have? A recorder and you hope I will confess things I don't know." He pointedly says. "What I will do is to find a complaint about targeted harassment. I will also demand a psych evaluation, and I would put in a transfer into another department. This is me, being kind to you. Do not draw my bad side out of me. I will fuck you in a way that you never wished." Rick states, and he extends his hand toward the door. "Now get the fuck out and go cream on that little file you have on me. Enjoy the champagne." Rick pulls the door open.

Rosita does not leave the wedding ceremony. She watches the happy couple tie the knot. Rick and Michonne are beautiful and happy. She is bitter, and she drags her phone to take a picture, which she sends to the little voice in her ear.

The happy couple. She sends with the picture.

Your little way didn't work. I know Rick Grimes better than you do.

Rosita reads the message, and she can imagine his crystal white smile.

It might be as bright as Michonne smiles when she says yes to a man, which she loves beyond words. Rosita is envious. The bitterness eats her from inside. Being used by Rick Grimes hurt less than watching him make another woman happy.

He kisses her with tenderness and passion. Their sons are happy, and the little one, Andre, she believes pulls on Rick's pants.

Carl kisses Michonne's cheek, and he appears to have forgotten the mother, which he lost.

Rosita feels like vomiting. She endures out of morbid curiosity. She goes as far as to watch their first dance. She hears the I love you and giggles.

Rick and Michonne are in love and happy.


Four years later

.

.

Michonne grabs her daughter, and she carefully holds the two years old. She frantically searches for a place where to hide. Rick, Carl, and Andre have their baseball day, which means they will be home late.

"Shush, mommy is here, Judith." She places her daughter in the closet. Now, with her daughter safe, Michonne can think straight. She slides under the bed, and Rick has had her practice for a day like this one.

Michonne can hear the step coming closer to her room. She presses on the mattress until she gets the box. Michonne attempts to stop the trembling of her hand, and she grabs the colt python.

Michonne quiets her breathing, and she watches at the feet pass before the bed. She crawls out of the bed, and she stands behind the assailant.

"Don't move!" Michonne orders. "Don't move, or I will shoot."

The assailant raises her hands, and she slowly turns to face Michonne.

"Guns aren't toys, Michonne." She says.

Michonne looks at the woman, and in the dark, she cannot tell it she knows her.

In her line of work, Michonne has seen enough of addicts to recognise one. She tightens her grip on the gun.

"Of course, the bitch does not recognise me after your husband ruined my life." She spits the words. "Doesn't matter," she casually says. "I came for payback." She jumps on Michonne.

After years of practice with her father in law, Michonne does not miss a target. She empties the colt on the woman. She falls on the ground, and Michonne rushes to switch the light on.

Michonne looks at the face of the first person, who she ever killed. Rosita Espinosa lies on the floor, and she has never been thinner. Her skin has the colour of ash. Her eyes are sunken to the point where the orbits are protuberant. Michonne rushes to the closet, and she picks Judith. She holds her daughter face against her chest, and she rushes down to call the police.

…..

….

….

Rick rushes toward Michonne who sits in the ambulance. He pulls her into a crushing hug. She returns his embrace.

"The boys," Michonne asks when she does not see their sons.

"I left them at your mother's place," Rick replies, and he kisses Michonne's forehead. "Everyone is fine?" He asks with sincere concern.

"All three of us are fine," Michonne replies, and she rubs her stomach. "They were checking the baby when you came." She cradles Rick's face. "We're fine." She repeats for both their sake.

"What happened?" Rick asks, and Michonne looks around her.

Rick pulls her in a hug, and she uses the opportunity to explain what happened.

"She came for Judith," Michonne whispers. "You know I don't leave her alone in her room during baseball day." She continues. "I forgot to turn the baby monitor, and I saw her slipping in Judith's room. She looked around and in the crib. When she found nothing, she came to our room. She didn't bother looking around the house for anyone else." Michonne finishes saying.

"Do we know her?" Rick rhetorically asks.

"I think it's that cop you were partnered with, and she looked on drugs." Michonne continues to explain. "She said something about payback."

Rick tightens his hug around Michonne. He almost crushes her.

"We're all safe," Michonne repeats.

"I will lose my mind if anything happens to any of you," Rick says, and his brain catches on the words.

Rick anxiously looks around him. His senses are in alarm. He walks to the ambulance, and he picks his sleeping daughter. He takes Michonne's hand, and he drags her into his side.

"We're safe?" Michonne asks because she can read her husband's anguish.

"For now, I cannot say." Rick replies, "but I'm not taking any risk." he kisses her tenderly.

"I love you," Michonne says when they break the kiss.


He looks as the police turn the Grimes' house into a crime scene. He slams his hand in the wheel.

"This is what you get for trusting a junky." He says with exasperation.

He can only blame himself for getting Rosita hooked to the hard stuff, but he needed to gain control over her.

"The idiot." He laments. "Five years planning and she cannot snatch a child." He looks before him as the Grimes family hugs each other.

Watching Rick Grimes happy with a family disgust him. After what Rick Grimes did to him, he deserves to lose everything until he loses his mind.

His eyes settle on Judith. If only Rosita could do, what he asked.

This fic should have been of a two parts series, but most of the readers lost interest in it. I then gave up on part two. I might revisit it.

Thanks again for the reviews and for sticking until the end.

please be safe and practice the safe measures