A/N: I wrote this in response to an Anon prompt on Tumblr asking for an extender on the scene where Rick asks Michonne for the rifle for the Saviors.
"Let you?" asked Michonne as the tears from her frustration welled in her eyes. "You think I'd try to stop you?"
Rick wiped his free hand over his mouth before letting the blood-stained bat fall unceremoniously to the floor.
"No, Michonne," he said softly, tiredly, as he inched towards her. "But you know for a fact if you asked me to let you keep it, then I would. Please don't make this any harder for me than it already is. Please."
Michonne felt her heart sink as Rick pleaded with her. He was at a loss of what to do, and right then, in that moment, they were going to have to let themselves be subjugated by Negan and his people. The desperate look in Rick's eyes told her that this is the way it had to be. Michonne exhaled loudly, blinked away a tear and let her head drop. With her shoulders slumped, and feeling deflated, she went and retrieved the rifle from the bag; she stepped towards Rick and lifted the gun in his direction.
He did not want to lose anyone else, he did not want to lose her. She understood why it had to be that way. Quietly, she handed the gun to Rick and then walked past him. Gently, he reached out his calloused, shaking hand and gripped her upper arm. She stopped and then turned her head to look at him.
"Thank you," he whispered unevenly; his blue eyes, rimmed with red, were glassy and melancholic.
Michonne offered him a weak smile and a nod of her head before she took hold of his hand; she lifted it to her mouth and pressed a soft kiss to his knuckles. She then relinquished her hold as quickly as she had taken it, without uttering a word. It was all she could do in that moment. She walked to the table where she had placed the small deer.
"Here," said Rick. "Let me."
"I got it," Michonne replied before lobbing it over her shoulders. "Do your thing."