A/N: I've been trying to find the right story to end this series on, and I think I've finally landed on one I'm happy with. Richonne has obviously been an inspiration for me over the years, and I eagerly await their reunion. In honor of Danai's last episode, please enjoy a retelling of her flashbacks from the cell scene.

Thank you for all the support, time, reviews, and kind words over the years, and for continuing to be my favorite fandom. Love you all.

Minor spoilers ahead.


Michonne could see him most mornings out on the raised walkway, staring out into the distance and muttering to himself. She supposed what Rick Grimes got up to in his spare time should have been of no concern to her. Even before the turn she was no stranger to averting her eyes when faced with the harsh realities of the world. Rick wasn't the first man to splinter under the weight, and in light of recent circumstances, she doubted that he would be the last.

She could feel his gaze on her as she went about her morning routine, unfolding herself carefully from the upturned transport bus that had become her temporary home. His eyes were often on her, assessing, burrowing into the layers she'd built up. It would be unnerving, but Michonne was made of tougher stuff than that.

There was no reason to concern herself with Rick Grimes beyond matters of survival, no reason to wonder who it was that haunted him.

Michonne looked up, into the sunlight. Rick was silhouetted, his bow legged stance a dark splotch above her. He lowered his binoculars, perhaps bashful that he was caught. Michonne raised a palm, waving.

"Morning!" she greeted, offering the hint of a smile.

Rick said nothing, but his hand twitched in a semblance of a friendly gesture. At once, he stomped off, surely on his way to bark orders in that strange southern cadence of his. Michonne shook her head, turning back to her work. There was no reason at all to think of Rick Grimes.

Though she had to admit, it was a welcome distraction.

-l-l-l-

"It's getting too cold for all that," Rick's voice caught Michonne off guard.

She halted mid-step, tossing a glance over her shoulder to take him in. "What?"

"The bus," he clarified, staring her down. "No reason for you to sleep there."

"I'm not letting you lock me back in that cell," Michonne explained, holding in a sigh. She thought they'd made headway today, but here they were again.

"Not that," Rick sounded almost bashful. He dragged the toe of his well-worn boots through the clods of dirt and dying grass beneath him. "It ain't safe out here, Michonne."

"Like I said," she began patiently, treading carefully. "I-"

"Fixed a spot up for you," Rick powered forward, clearing his throat. "Near Carl and I if...If you want it."

It took a moment to process. "Inside?" Michonne asked.

"Yeah," Rick swallowed. "Like I said. If you want to."

Michonne considered this. Her decision made, she started her steps up again, feeling Rick's eyes on her as she hurried towards the bus. She leaned in, yanking out the blanket she'd left folded. She spun on her heel, holding back her amusement at Rick's gobsmacked expression.

"Lead the way," she instructed.

His face twitched into some expression that might have passed for a grin. 'Yes ma'am," he complied.

Smiling outright, Michonne followed him into the prison.

-l-l-l-

"You comfortable?" Rick's voice was gravelly. Michonne found it soothing.

"It's not memory foam," she quipped, rolling over to face him. "But it'll do."

Rick chuckled, shaking his head. "At least it's warm," he remarked.

Between them, Carl carved out his space, settling in the center of both adults. "It's nicer than that place yesterday. There were rocks sticking into my damn back all night."

"Language," Michonne's admonition was echoed by Rick. He winked at her from over his son's head.

"Sorry," Carl was quick to backpedal. "I'm just saying," he shrugged, laying down. "This isn't so bad."

"No," Rick agreed, tossing a blanket over them all. "It ain't."

-l-l-l-

"It's too quiet," Rick lamented, staring out of the window of the house they were now to call home.

Michonne paused behind him, holding in her exasperation. She understood his reservations, truly. The fact remained that both Judith and Carl had gone to bed tonight warm and safe, with bellies full of food and not air.

"It's going to take some getting used to," she soothed, standing beside him.

Rick looked over at her, face creased with familiar worry. He looked years younger, his hair shorn above his ears, his bushman beard a thing of memory. Michonne yearned to touch him, to smooth her thumb over the dimple in his chin. Instead, she reached for his arm.

"It's going to be ok," she promised him.

Rick's eyes dropped, but he stepped closer to her, pressing his side against hers. "I hope so, Michonne."

They stayed that way for the better part of the night, holding vigil for a threat that would not arrive.

-l-l-l-

"What are you girls doing up so early?" Rick asked, pulling on his gun belt as he strode into the kitchen.

"Baby girl wouldn't stay asleep," Michonne answered, smiling as she spooned rice cereal into Judith's eager mouth. "Didn't want to wake up daddy and brother," she said. "Isn't that right, Judes?"

Judith only squealed, demanding more breakfast. Michonne happily obliged. Rick watched them for a moment, leaning on the counter.

"Next time wake daddy up," he strode forward, all brash confidence. His warm lips found her cheek, his beard tickling her skin. "He had plans for you."

Michonne let out a surprised giggle, flushing as Rick's hands boldly slapped at her ass. "Rick!" she admonished.

From the kitchen entrance, there was a pubescent groan. "You guys are so gross," Carl feigned vomiting, shuffling towards the sink.

Rick winked, ignoring his son's ire in lieu of kissing Michonne again for good measure.

"I'll see you later," he promised, heading out for his watch.

Michonne watched him go, still blushing.

-l-l-l-

Rick flopped onto the bed, sending the mattress shaking. Michonne rolled over, taking him in.

"Well?" she asked.

"Well," he responded dramatically, kicking his boots off and onto the floor. "Carl got Judith to go down, and he's spending the night with the Rhees." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "So it looks like it's just you and me."

"Is that right?" Michonne reached for him as Rick moved towards her, pulling her into his arms.

"That's right," he confirmed, leaving lingering kisses across her neck as he cut a path up to her lips. One hand curved around to cup her ass with a calloused palm. The other came to the front, cradling the gentle slope of her stomach.

"What are we going to do with all our spare time?" Michonne baited, tugging at his graying beard.

A predatory smile spread over his face, sending heat racing through her in an instance. "Well," he drawled, leaning down to kiss her stomach, "If this little guy will settle down for a few minutes, I'll show you."

"Just a few minutes?" Michonne laughed, helping Rick as he tugged her robe open.

"A few minutes is all I need," he smirked. His hands danced between her thighs. Michonne let out a moan.

"A few minutes it is, then," she agreed, yanking his face towards hers.

-l-l-l-

"Dad," Carl burst through the front door, leaving his shoes in the foyer as he barreled into the living room, Judith hot on his heels.

Rick woke up with a start, blinking at his children bemusedly. "What?" he asked, doing his best to look like he hadn't been sleeping in the middle of the afternoon.

Michonne laughed as she joined them, trailing after the kids. "You won't believe what we found," she smiled, bending over to kiss Rick on the top of his head.

He grinned, tugging her down beside him. "What did you find?" Rick asked, making space for Judith as she came bouncing up beside him.

"You tell him, Judes," Carl prompted, smirking at his father.

"Chocolate!" Judith squealed, yanking her pack open to show off the sweets they'd procured.

Rick's eyes went wide as his grin as he played along, listening diligently as Judith recounted the great strip mall adventure that had led them to a treasure trove of sugary delight.

"RJ's never had it before," Carl concluded, fishing a Big Kat out of the bag.

Rick shifted the toddler in his arms. RJ stared around at his family, confused but enthused nonetheless.

"You want some candy, little man?" Michonne prompted, reaching for their youngest.

She only managed to hold him for a moment before Carl and Judith spirited him off. The sounds of their elation could be heard even after they abandoned their parents on the couch for the sanctity of the kitchen.

Michonne smiled after them, leaning her head against Rick's shoulder.

"How was your run?" he asked, twirling a loc between his thumb and forefinger.

"Good," she wound her arm around his waist. "How was your nap?"

Rick chuckled. "Good," he answered. A wave of fresh laughter sounded from the kitchen, along with RJ's distinct scream of excitement. "You know," Rick said, "they're going to eat all of it before we even get a bite."

Michonne reached into her pocket, finagling out a peppermint and chocolate patty. She brandished it like a trophy, delighting in his laugh.

"Split with me?" she asked, already opening the foil.

Rick reached for the candy, grinning. "Always," he promised her.

-l-l-l-

Michonne woke on the cold cement floor, her mouth dry, her head pounding. The effects of Virgil's tea left her little by little, but the memories lingered. She sat up, wiping tears from her eyes, a half decade of nostalgia shaking her to her core.

"What did you see?" Virgil called from the other side of her cell door.

Michonne looked up, breathless. "What could have been," she whispered, getting lost in the memories again.

-l-l-l-

The sun beat down on the trio as they moved. It was slow going with an injured person between them, but Michonne felt elated. Something was gripping her heart again, an emotion familiar and all-consuming.

Rick was out there. She was sure of it, now more than she'd ever been in 6 years. He was out there, and he was thinking of them, thinking of her.

She would find him. She would bring him home.

Digging in, she sped up the pace, eager to continue down the road ahead.