Isisnicole is back with the next chapter. Rick is in the infirmary with an injured hand and some much needed pain meds. Let's find out what happens when his mind starts to drift. Will he be able to keep his head in the game to finish strong?

Be sure to check out her other works on her FF page.

-We're The Ones Who Write

Chapter 4

It was evening and the dusk of the day was quickly turning to night. Rick was laying atop the makeshift hospital bed. Which was just an extra-long twin bed with simple bedding. Denise had left over an hour ago to go get some extra bandages from the storage pantry but Rick had a sneaking hunch that she was off somewhere with Tara.

Rick groaned at the sight of his bandaged right hand. His careless mishap earned him numerous jeers from Shane and a few others, he took the comments in stride because he felt just as dumb as they had made him out to be.

He tried to recall what could have happened. His stance was perfect. His trusted Bowie was resting in his hand correctly and his eye was on the target. As his mind replayed the few seconds before the tip of his knife cut into his palm the reason for his error flashed before his eyes. Michonne. Just as he was about to release an image of her smiling face flashed in front of him momentarily distracting him leading him to let go of the blade too late as the always sharp tip sliced through his skin.

He had fallen down to one knee. Michonne was the first person to his side. The cause of his distress was now acting as his savior as she pulled a bandana from her back pocket applying it roughly to his open wound. She apologized as she heard his intake of hissed breath that escaped his clenched teeth.

After that, it was a blur. Now he was laid up in the infirmary alone with his hand bandaged up all because he let himself get distracted by a firm behind in tight jeans. Why did she have to be so damn sexy? Maybe it's just been a long time since he had been drawn to someone and his mind got the better of him. Whatever the reason he paid the price.

Rick adjusted his position on the semi-comfortable foam bed. The pain pill Denise gave him earlier was doing wonders for his pain. The warm floating feeling relaxed his muscles as well as his mind. Soon what could only be described as an illusion of Michonne appeared in front of him. She was in the same tight dark jeans and a black halter tank top she had on earlier that day. She stood at the foot of the bed just staring at him. Her dark browns eyes studying his elevated supine position.

"What do you want?" his voice was rough and slurred from lack of hydration. It echoed in his ears. Her image didn't answer it just floated around the bed until she was standing near the top of his head.

"Michonne?" Rick rubbed his eyes against the illuminating glow that was emanating from her.

The apparition smiled at him a dazzling smile.

"Are you here to make me feel better?" He tried to adjust his position to face her and his head began to swim as the room floated around him from the sudden movement. He slowly returned to his previous position placing a hand over his abdomen hoping to stop the rolling of his stomach. As the dizziness began to dissipate he tried once again to face the ethereal figure hovering near his head. He knew what he was seeing wasn't real but he was willing to see how things played out.

"So are you going to answer me?" It was a stupid request, of course, she wasn't because this wasn't real. He didn't know how or when he had come to that realization but if the glow off of her resplendent body wasn't the first hint, the hooded lustful look in her eyes that he'd been wishing to see for as long as he could remember certainly sealed the surreal feel of the moment.

There was no answer. The vision climbed onto the bed straddling his waist. Vision Michonne's eyes had an ethereal luminescence that Rick felt the weight of the vision as she settled into place over his groin. He exhaled as the phantom weight sent a wave of warmth up his body.

"Why won't you talk to me?"

The hallucination slid over his groin, no words spoken its gaze fixed on him as it came to rest atop his upper thighs. He knew she wasn't actually there, but his body reacted to every movement and imagined scent. The assumed smell of fresh strawberries filled his nose. Its sweet aroma seemed to emanate from Michonne. It was the scent he imagined she smelled like. Although their interaction has always been brief, he always pictured her a being soft and yielding behind closed doors.

Her rough exterior melting away as soon as they were alone. Michonne undressing for him. She grabbed the end of her tank top seductively pulling it over her head. Her full breasts sat upright in her black satin bra, or maybe she doesn't wear a bra. He really didn't know, but the idea of the satin bra pleased him. The color against her tawny skin seemed to glow. His pants bulged with his erection. At least the medication didn't render him unable to physically enjoy this pleasurable hallucination.

He unzipped his pants reaching in and pulling his semi-erect member free. Michonne smiled at the movement. This is all based on what he would want if he were ever so lucky to have her. So having her smile at the appearance of his dick would make his chest swell with pride.

Rick stroked himself as she continued to smile at him. The thought of her tugging on her breasts formed in his mind and soon she immediately mirrored the thought. Her hands reached up to cup both of her breasts and use her long fingers to caress the top cup of the bra.

"Take it off."

She coquettishly lowered her gaze as she reached behind her back unhooking her bra. The fabric falling from her chest dissipating like mist into the air surrounding her. His mind pictured full breasts with a subtle droop, large mocha areolas with protruding nipples. The kind that any grown man would love to suck on like a starved child. His mouth watered despite its dryness. His grip tightened on his now fully erect penis. The first glistening drop of fluid spouting from its fathead. He drew his thumb across his slit collecting the sticky fluid coating himself in it. The increased slickness made it easier for his hand to pump in a more steady rhythm.

She sat waiting for Ricks mind to imagine something else. Soon her hands were squeezing her breasts again focusing more on the nipples with a rhythmic twisting and tugging at the sensitive buds. Her head fell back as an otherworldly moan escaped her lips. Would Michonne moan like this? Who cares Rick thought. It was his fantasy, and he was going to enjoy her. His speed increased as he chased his release while his fantasy girl sat moaning on his legs with her glorious breasts on display. He was sure to find his sweet climax. Rick's mind began to reel as his blood circulated faster through his body sending more of the pain medication flowing to his brain. His eyes drooped as the lethargic effect of the medication began to take hold. Shaking his head roughly to clear the fogginess. He planned to see this to the end medication be damned.

The image of Michonne began to wane in appearance from solid to translucent as it became harder for him to remain focused.

"No… stay with me... just a little longer," he grunted still pumping himself. Sliding his hand over his pink head, the tingle of his nerve endings shooting down to his balls causing them to jerk in response. Almost there he thought. She began to rock her lower body in time with his hand movements. The fast erratic pelvic thrusts causing her breasts to jiggle and swing. He would love to take one of her nipples into his mouth and nibble at the supple flesh. The electric tingling pull of his orgasm suddenly began to die down. Fuck he muttered. The medication was numbing every part of his body. .

"No...No... Not yet," he protested his mind was becoming even heavier.

Grabbing his cock roughly trying to maintain some feeling. He squeezed it tightly. It swelled to a bright red color from the applied pressure. He cursed under his breath again. At least he could still feel a little bit of that. Mind fogging over and still gripping his dick tightly Rick took his still swollen member and slammed it against his bandaged hand hoping to get some feeling back. The feeling Rick got was not what he wanted or expected. Red-hot pain shot through his hand, up his shoulder right through the fog of his brain shocking him into clear, painful awareness. His scream was a colorful mixture of swear words and bellowing. He was thankful he was in the infirmary by himself. The last thing he needed was for Denise to come barging in to find him in bed dick hanging out clutching his hurt hand. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out what he was doing to cause his pain.

Rick chest rose and fell in deep heavy breaths as the pain of his hand continued to throb, and small splotches of blood appeared across his bandage. Raising his body to prop himself up on his elbows. He looked around the moonlit room hoping she was still there, but his fantasy was gone. He glanced down at his dick now a withered mess equally disappointing and disappointed.

At the same time that Rick was nursing his hurt hand and ego, Michonne was in the communal bathroom enjoying the peace and quiet of her hot shower. Her body ached from the long day, and her mind was troubled over the injury Rick sustained. Her mind kept replaying the entire chaotic scene as she stood under the stream of water. It was the sharp intake of breath and the loud curse he uttered that drew her attention first. She remembers the cold chill that traveled up her spine. She knew that the sounds of distress he was making meant something terrible had just happened. When she turned around, he was applying pressure to the center of his hand, but she could already see the blood flowing heavily through his fingers. Acting quickly she pulled her black bandana from her rear pocket and placed it over the wound, applying more pressure. She kept her eyes focused on his hand, but she could still feel the heat of his eyes against her face. She didn't dare look at him at that moment for fear of what his eyes would say to her. Would they show anger...fright? Who knows, but at that moment in time she didn't want to see the possible emotions in his eyes.

She and a few others helped to carry Rick to the infirmary where Denise was already prepared for him as Noah had run ahead to let her know of the situation. The powerful tranquilizer that she administered sent him under fairly quickly. Denise made quick work of cleaning and disinfecting the wound. Michonne remained in the infirmary while Denise stitched his wound up with a continuous stitch that closed the wound nicely. It wasn't until Denise had bandaged his hand and Michonne saw that he was resting peacefully did she relinquish her post near his bedside.

Dinner in the mess hall that evening was loud and charged as everyone was talking about Rick's mishap. Some wondered if he would be able to use his gun and others openly played with the idea that Michonne somehow caused the accident. After a harsh retort from Abraham about folks chatting like a bunch of hens, the air in the hall lessened to a more pleasant mood.

Michonne didn't mind the gossip as she also blamed herself for the accident. She shouldn't have accepted the challenge. She only did it to wipe that smug look off of Rick's face. However, the moment he fell to his knees, and she saw the blood pulsing from his hand, she immediately felt liable and remorseful. She didn't knowingly distract him, but she did invade his personal space as she positioned his body in proper position for throwing. He did say that he knew what he was doing. So is it really her fault? Michonne sighed at the last thought. She knew it really wasn't, but she still felt a twinge of regret anyway.

Her tawny features began to relax as she started to lather herself under the heavy flow of hot water. She inhaled deeply, sucking in the hot steam and releasing slowly as the trials of the day flowed off her body and down into the drain.

Michonne closed her eyes letting her mind drift and take her away for a moment. She often did this when she needed to break up the looping burden of her mind. Sometimes an old forgotten song would play in her head, but tonight her mind had other plans. Tonight her mind had other plans. She closed her eyes and let it take its own meandering path as the steam rose around her and the water beat a soft massage onto her back.

Michonne found herself in an empty small bright room. No decorations or fancy furniture just a bare room. In front of her was Rick standing on the far side of the space. He was in his black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and dark faded jeans. It was the same outfit he'd had on earlier before it became covered in his blood. The top of the shirt was open, exposing small tufts of dark chest hair underneath. His stood there, hands on his hips in his usual lazy, sex gait and that disarming smirk on his face. She enjoyed his rugged features. She would catch glimpses of him whenever he strolled through the community. The power of his stride was one of a man who knew where he was going and what he needed to do. She didn't openly ogle him whenever she saw him, it was usually just a passing glance and that was all she needed to store away for later.

Yes, she found him attractive, but she would never let him know that. His cockiness tended to put a damper on his good looks whenever it popped up. The other women may fawn all over him but Michonne was not one of those women, but she could still appreciate his other fine qualities in private like tonight.

Since the day he helped adjust her gunbelt Michonne found herself thinking about the feel of his strong hands on her hips and her thighs. She remained calm during his unnecessary but thorough inspection, but later that night she replayed that moment as she massaged herself to completion. Tonight she would have the assistance of the detachable high-pressure shower head in the handicapped accessible shower stall. Michonne chose this one because it was the furthest away from the door, so it provided her the extra privacy she was needing. She opened her eyes to the drabness of the shower wall not letting the realization of her current not quite ideal location distract her from her goal. She removed the large stainless steel elongated nozzle from its base changing the setting from rainfall to a single steady stream. The water pelted her skin in hard spurts as the water rushed out which was just what she needed.

Michonne grasped the metallic shower rail in front of her for balance spreading her legs wide as the first pulsing bursts of water found their mark. The heat of the water mixed with the heat of her arousal igniting her core. She relaxed her leg muscles deepening her squat to a malasana pose exposing her full womanhood. Breathing deeply as she closed her eyes blocking out all other noise she was once again standing in front of Rick. He smiled as if he was happy to see that she had returned. The corners of his mouth softening the lines of worry that were commonplace across his forehead and emphasizing the deep furrowed crow's feet on the side of his eyes.

Michonne didn't want any words just action, and Rick Grimes was a man of action. His large hands tugged at the buttons on his shirt grasping at the fabric and ripping the buttons lose. The damaged cloth floated to the floor behind him landing in a crumpled mess. Michonne loved the thought of Rick being impatient to get to her and taking charge. Seeing him in action always made her delta pulse. Her clit thrummed as he unhooked the loop of his belt causing his jeans to sink down his waist under the weight of his gun belt. His defined Adonis belt accentuating his fit upper body. A low moan escaped Michonne lips as she repositioned the water stream over her now exposed pink clit. He strolled towards her unbuttoning the top of his jeans letting the full weight of his gun belt dragging the jeans to the floor. He stepped out of the pants, not missing a beat in his stride towards her. His electric blue eyes darkened like a torrential storm of lust.

He crashed his lips against hers. Michonne moaned at the forceful contact. His lips were firm but still so very soft. She gasped as his tongue probed for entrance into her mouth which she granted. Michonne breaths were coming out quickly as her orgasm swelled quickly from the help of her imagination and the powerful rush of water. The delicious rush of her orgasm ready to burst out.

"Chonne... you in here," called Sasha.

"Shit," she cursed under her breath as she stood up quickly spraying water against the shower wall. "Yeah," she said, trying to clear her throat as she returned the shower head to its cradle. She ran her hand along her aching labia and protruding clit. Defeated Michonne placed her head against the cool beige tile wall.