Sloth

the avoidance of physical or spiritual work.

Warnings: Extremely angsty, pre-Richonne, after Rick says he doesn't take chances anymore, Anderson family deaths didn't happen (yes, I know but it helps with the plot)

"So that's your decision?"

"It's our best shot."

Michonne looked away in disbelief.

Rick defensively placed his hands on his hips. "What?"

She scoffed incredulously, mirroring his stance. She couldn't believe the words that were coming out of his mouth.

He didn't want anybody going outside of the walls except for occasional runs. No more recruiting, not ever. He wanted to put all his eggs in one basket and focus on just the expansion. It was as if he was in denial of the fact that they had to do both if they were going to build up their community. It wasn't like him to be so myopic. Then again she should've expected it. For the past several weeks, he'd been on a downward spiral. It felt like the man she had once known was being replaced by a poor imitation of the formerly selfless leader she'd once admired.

Although, she wasn't surprised.

He had become too busy with his recently acquired, eager-to-please, widow to think straight. It was something she still couldn't wrap her mind around. Then again, what else did she expect? He'd finally found the blonde of every man's dreams. Wasn't that the way it always was? So as long as they were satisfied, everything and everyone else was secondary. Not even the end of the world could change that.

She sucked in her cheeks to hold back the harsh words on the tip of her tongue as she stared at him testily.

He looked away impatiently, an unintentional snarl tugging at his lip. "You disagree?"

She flinched at his hard tone. The last time he'd said something so coldly was the day he took her to King County. But things had changed after that. They found the same path. They became a team. She searched his face, hoping in vain to find a glimmer of the man she would have once followed to the ends of the earth but all she found was distrust and displeasure.

She swallowed back the sour taste of disillusionment. He was different or maybe he'd reverted back to the same person he was before she met him. Either way, there was nothing she could say or do that would change him back to the man she'd once believed in.

She blinked at him for a moment before quietly responding to his accusatory question of whether she disagreed with his short-sighted plan or not. "Does it matter?"

Rick slightly narrowed his eyes, uncertain of her meaning. Of course her opinion mattered. It was because of her that they'd made it this far.

His jaw ticked in frustration as he attempted to decipher the ambiguous tone in her question but his silence was apparently enough for her. She nodded before turning on her heel and leaving him to wonder what the hell just happened.

He'd thought they were still on the same page but ever since she'd seen him kissing Jessie in the kitchen, Michonne had distanced herself from him. She'd even moved out and into Glenn and Maggie's place. She'd claimed it was to help Maggie with her pregnancy but he knew it was something else. He'd say it was because of what she'd seen but Michonne would never pull away from him because of something so insignificant. It was something else. There was a restlessness in her he didn't understand. Ever since Deanna's death, it was as if she'd become possessed by an insatiable need to find the answer to a question only she knew.

He clenched and unclenched his fists in frustration as he hastily marched after her. Restless or not, he could only tolerate her dismissiveness up to a certain point. Maybe she was fine with fracturing the trust between her, him, and the kids but he wasn't.

Carl was avoiding him now. When he wasn't, he'd glare at him, silently accusing him of their falling-out. And though Judith was still too small to know what was going on, she was restless and would often cry for no reason, probably because one of the most important people in her life was no longer around.

On the few occasions Michonne would grace them with her presence, it was as if she brought a light with her that brightened the entire house. Everything seemed to be at peace on those days but would quickly fade away when she left. The growing uneasiness that fed the division between them made those visits few and far between. He just didn't understand what had gone wrong. They were friends, partners. They'd gone through hell and back. So why was she purposely trying to evade him? All he knew was that he was done trying to read her mind.

He caught up with her and grabbed her wrist, a move he instantly regretted as she swiftly pulled away and gave him a hostile look he hadn't seen since they'd first met. They stood in the middle of the street, staring each other down, an intense current flowing between them.

A rush of desire hit him like a bolt of lightning as his eyes dragged down to her slightly parted lips. A need to kiss them came over him. He could already imagine their taste, their pillowy softness, taking them in his own and drinking from them until he was inebriated by the sensations that were already beginning to fog his mind. He knit his brow at the unexpected urge. It was the first time these feelings had hit him so strongly in broad daylight. Usually, he'd have enough time to repress them before they painted such explicit pictures.

She interpreted his confusion as anger. She recoiled. This had become too painful. She couldn't stay angry at him. She couldn't continue avoiding him. But she couldn't stay locked up behind these walls until he figured out how wrong he was about all of this.

"I can't…I can't do this," she uttered between measured breaths.

He searched her face in anticipation, wondering if she was referring to the desire he was feeling. Was she feeling the same? It wasn't until he noticed the sadness in her eyes that he realized she wasn't referring to his sudden yearning. No, he recognized that look. It was the one she would wear before she left on her searches for the Governor. Was she…she couldn't be. Did she want to leave?

Panic leapt in his throat. He stepped closer, his face inches from hers. He couldn't let that happen. She closed her eyes and hung her head as he studied her. "Yes, you can. We need you here."

She refused to look him in the eye. His breath painfully caught in his chest. He could already feel her slipping away. He squeezed her shoulder, refusing to allow her to let go. He slightly crouched down to get a full view of her eyes, demanding her to look at him with a soft, "Hey." The solid ground he'd stood on for so long was slowly sinking beneath him. She was the foundation he'd rebuilt himself on. He couldn't allow her to take that away from him.

When he finally drew her eyes, he firmly informed her, "This doesn't work without you. None of it does. You're a part of this now."

She remained silent, unconvinced. He swiftly reminded her, "You said you were done taking breaks. Carl and Judith need you. We need you."

She winced at how easy it was for him to use his kids as a negotiation tactic. He knew what buttons to push when it came to her heart. Damn him.

When she remained quiet, he sighed exasperatedly. The familiar slither of betrayal tightened around his soul, choking out all reason. How could she do this to him? How could she even consider leaving? How could she not see this was what was best? This would keep them alive and safe.

His hand dropped from her stiff shoulder. The words he wanted to say - don't do this, stay - they all dissipated in a cloud of outrage.

"You wanted this," he accused her, "you wanted this place. You told me to give these people a chance. I'm doing what you told me, isn't that what you wanted?" His voice was now raised in frustration, terror lacing every word.

She looked up at him. What she wanted...why was it that everybody had suddenly felt the need to concern themselves with what she wanted? The world didn't revolve around her. Everybody had choices to make and hers were her business, not anyone else's, especially this stranger that stood in front of her.

Her body relaxed in feigned resignation. She knew he wouldn't let her go. He would shoot down any idea now of her going beyond the walls for any reason. He'd do it not because he cared about what was best for her but because of what was best for him. She swallowed back the lump forming in her throat. Leaving would no longer be a choice but an escape.

She nodded, hoping her agreement would pacify him enough to come up with a plan. "It was." She searched his eyes one final time before walking away.

A tug at his chest told him to stay with her, to follow her back to Maggie and Glenn's, to demand that she restore everything that had broken between them. But he didn't. He let her walk away believing that he'd see her again, trusting that what had broken wasn't serious enough for her to leave him.

He was wrong.

Hello again!

I decided to post it after all. Hope you're still with me on this one! Lots of angst for our Richonne warriors this time.

I tried to weave sloth as avoidance within this story. I just couldn't imagine Rick and Michonne avoiding physical work and the only way I could see them avoiding each other (aside from the different ways they cope with a serious tragedy) was if a clash of ideals came to a head.

I'm considering another part to this or expanding it to an actual story but I haven't decided yet.

Again, thank you for all your support! I've loved reading all the comments! As always, I look forward to hearing from y'all again!

Your feeling productive writer,

semul