"Be careful out there," Michonne implored, the slight quiver in her voice laying bare her trepidation as Rick and Carl prepared to leave the safe confines of Alexandria. "I expect both of you back tomorrow and in one piece."
Rick wrapped his arms tightly around her, attempting to absorb the fear that had transformed the playful light in her eyes into turbulent seas. Despite her valiant efforts to shield him from it, she couldn't escape the fact that every time the two men she loved most in this world left her sight, her anxiety ratcheted to fever pitch. He smiled down at her, the full bloom of her nearly seven-month pregnancy prevented them from completely bridging the gap separating their hearts. He chuckled as he felt the not-so-gentle vibrations emanating from her belly.
"See?" Michonne teased, giving him a glimpse of the airiness she'd exhibited earlier that morning. "She doesn't want you to leave either."
The morning had been a pleasant one, their home full of joy and laughter as they sat around the table for breakfast. The merriment came to an abrupt halt when Rick shared that he and Carl needed to deliver some equipment to the Kingdom, as well as stop at their trade spot to pick up their share of a largely untouched warehouse store Jesus and Daryl had discovered. Ordinarily, this trip wouldn't have drawn concerns, but they had had to re-clear the shortcut to the Kingdom the previous week, after a large hoard swept through the area. Luckily, no one had been lost, but the possibility made it more difficult to allay Michonne's fears about their looming departure.
He dropped one hand to his side, slowly snaking it inwards, only stopping when he palmed the soft, yet firm warmth radiating from her belly. The distinctive tremor beneath his hand caused goosebumps to spring up across his arms, bringing a lopsided grin to his lips.
"I promise we'll be back soon and in one piece," Rick replied, giving her belly a gentle squeeze. "Jesus said they got an amazin' haul. They don't have space to store Alexandria's cut, so we need to get it now. Won't take more 'an a day. You'll barely notice we're gone."
"That so?" she queried, trying to match the lightness in his tone. "Now, why would you think that?"
Leaning down to kiss her, he whispered, "don't know. Maybe you need to show me it ain't true," before his lips joined hers.
She smiled into his kiss, relishing the sweet softness of his lips, a hint of blueberries still on them from the surprise breakfast of pancakes with preserves he'd made especially for her and Judith. She leaned in as far as her belly would allow, not wanting to release him just yet. The imminence of her final trimester had brought on a surprisingly manic need to nest. Now that they were all under the same roof, a sense of tranquility had wrapped itself around their home and she didn't want to let it go.
She couldn't bear the thought of anything penetrating the haven they'd created. Recognizing her emotions were reaching the tipping point the longer she held onto him, she slowly, reluctantly, began pulling away. But he refused to surrender his hold. Instead, he brought his hands up to cup her face, as he bent down to give her one last lingering kiss.
"Jeez guys," Carl grumbled, interrupting the couple as he made his way out the front door and onto the porch with Judith in his arms. "We're only gonna to be gone a day. We're not going to war. Besides, do you have to do this outside?"
Rick chuckled as he draped his arm around Michonne's shoulders, spinning them around to face Carl. The slight annoyance on his son's face generated a loud guffaw from Rick. Judith, never one to be left out of the fun, giggled as she reached out to her father for a cuddle.
"Ok smart guy," Michonne countered, pinning the teen-ager with a playful glare. "Just remember your main mission is to keep each other safe. That's all I care about."
"I know, I know," Carl conceded, hoisting Judith into Rick's awaiting arms.
Carl turned to Michonne, catching a glimpse of her unshed tears, glistening in the morning sun. He leaned in to give her a hug. Looking over her shoulder to his dad and sister, he realized again how lucky he was to have her in his life. This wonderful woman who had become a mother to him at a time when he was positive he no longer needed one. Who would be the only mother Judith knew. Who had brought the brightness back into his father's eyes. He hated when she worried but was excited to go on this 'secret mission' with his dad, knowing how much such a gesture meant to his dad.
"Don't worry," Carl avowed. "We've got this."
"I know you do," she whispered as he leaned down to kiss her cheek and rub her belly for good luck.
"Ready dad?" he said, turning to find Rick bouncing a giddy Judith on his hip.
"Yeah," Rick replied, giving Judith one last kiss before handing her to Michonne. "Need to get goin'."
He gave Michonne one last kiss before following Carl down the stairs and out towards the moving truck parked in front of their home.
"I'll drive," Carl stated, reaching out to retrieve the keys from Rick's hands.
"You sure about that?" Rick smirked, turning back to look at Michonne and Judith, still standing on the porch watching them. "'Chonne's right there and if I recall correctly, y'all almost ended up in a ditch last time you drove. She won't like it."
"She's the one that said I needed more practice," Carl insisted, jingling the keys in his hands as he rounded the truck to get to the driver's side.
Rick shrugged his shoulders, opened the passenger-side door, and hopped into the vehicle. Once seated, Carl started the truck as Rick looked back up towards the porch, catching a pensive smile on Michonne's face as she cradled Judith against her cheek. He and Carl waved, before pulling away from the curb and heading towards the gates. As they approached, Scott opened the gates, flagging them through. Carl navigated across the steel bridge covering the trench constructed to further protect Alexandria. Clearing the security apparatus, Carl steered the truck onto the road and proceeded towards their destination.
"You think she knows?" Carl asked, turning to glance at his father. "She seemed a little suspicious this morning. Kept asking if I was 'sure' we really needed to go and 'why' Daryl couldn't just bring it."
"Nah, she doesn't know," Rick replied, leaning back into his seat and putting his boot-clad feet on the dashboard. "She's just worried about us and anxious about the baby. She'll wanna keep us close."
"Why is she worried about the baby?" Carl asked, more sharply than he realized. "Is there something going on you aren't telling me? Is she ok?!"
"Calm down Carl," Rick directed, reaching over to give a comfortingly squeeze Carl's shoulder. "She's fine. The baby's fine too. It's just somethin' women worry about when they get close to the end. Your mom was the same way with Judith. Really, it was the same in the old world too. Maybe you don't remember because the world had already gone to hell and you couldn't tell the difference. Michonne will be fine."
Carl nodded, visible relief washing over him. He'd been so happy the past few weeks. His family was together again and it was nice to see the fulfillment emanating from his dad, as well as Judith's glee about being able to follow Michonne around all day like her little shadow. The sense of family and belonging reminded him of how it used to be when he was really small. Being able to do the mundane things like go to school, do his chores, and sit down each evening to a meal. Together. He didn't realize how much he'd missed that sense of normalcy until he had it back. He never wanted to let it go again.
"You think you and Michonne will have another kid after this one?" he asked, startling his father out of his daydream.
"What?" Rick sputtered, unsure he had heard Carl correctly.
"I don't mean now," Carl asserted, grinning at the shock on his father's face. "I'm just thinking about Michonne saying we need to rebuild civilization. I'm guessing the only way to do that is more babies. I used to be scared because of… what happened to mom. But I know it makes sense, so I just thought… you know."
Rick sighed, rubbing his hands through his beard. He was content with the kids he had, and the one coming, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't not-so-secretly long for another one. He could admit it pained him to know if he had been who he should have been to Michonne, maybe things would have been different. None of that mattered now. Now, they were together and he pledged to never let anything interfere with such a blessing.
"Haven't really talked 'bout it," Rick admitted, pausing as he swirled the idea around in his mind. "Besides, that would be entirely her decision."
"But, do you want it?" Carl prodded, unwilling to let his father bypass the question.
"Yeah, I think I would," Rick sighed. Their family policy had become 'no more secrets,' so while he was uncomfortable having this conversion, he felt obligated to be truthful with Carl.
"Then she would too," Carl declared. "You guys are always in synch."
Rick turned to fully look at his son. It still amazed him how the scrawny little boy he found at the Atlanta camp became the young man sitting before him. Stray whiskers on his cheeks and upper lip, a deepening voice, a keen sense of what was right, and the ability to furiously protect those he loved. He smiled with pride, grateful for having played any part in the man Carl would become.
"Why'd you tell Michonne we were going to the Kingdom?" Carl asked, breaking the silence as he stared at the road ahead. "Don't you think she'd worry we'd run into Jessie there?"
"Nah, 'Chonne knows she's got nothin' to worry about," Rick replied, leaning back deeper into his seat. "Besides, it would have been fine. There's nothin' there with Jessie. Never was."
"I guess I ju– just… I don't know," Carl began, slowing the truck down slightly as he gathered his thoughts. "That thing was just so weird. I know you were trying to help, but I hated Michonne being so upset. I hated her moving out and I wasn't very nice about it."
"Yeah, that was clear," Rick softly chuckled, thinking back to the damage he had caused and the anger Carl had displayed at his actions. "I thought I was helpin', doin' right. Just ended up makin' a shit situation shittier."
"Language!" Carl scolded.
"Michonne's not here," Rick retorted, glancing at his son. "Just exercisin' my right to swear outside the presence of Mama Bear."
Carl laughed, speeding up as the brief tension in the cab of the truck dissipated.
"I've made a lotta mistakes, but that was probably the biggest," Rick confessed. "Wasted a lotta time on somethin' I knew wouldn't work and hurt someone I loved deeply. If I have to, I'll gladly spend the rest of my life makin' it right."
Rick looked on as Carl nodded and turned his attention back to the road. He closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat, a small smile playing on his lips. It had been bumpy ride, but they had made it out of that dark tunnel and were finally basking in the sunshine, as a family. He would never let anything change that again.
As he sat on the steps to the porch, beneath the blistering sun, he wondered if it would be possible to come back from this. After all, the predicament he now found himself immersed in was of his own making. Since stepping through Alexandria's gates, he'd operated under an impenetrable fog. A murkiness that drove him towards actions that where incomprehensible, even to himself.
He thought of Carl, home for just a few weeks now, finally getting up on his feet and feeling more comfortable with the ramifications of his injury. He thought of all the late nights and early mornings he had been too tired or overwhelmed to even feed himself and how Michonne had stepped in and been there to provide the comfort Carl needed. He thought about finding her napping on the couch, Judith snuggled against her chest. Of how he stroked Michonne's cheek to wake her, before pulling Judith from her arms and walking upstairs to put her in her crib.
He thought about coming back down to talk to her, listening to her go on about how Carl had hit a key milestone in his recovery, all while he had been out helping repair the remaining damage to Alexandria. He looked into her eyes and saw the tiredness, but the clear glint of hope beaming through, just beyond the surface. They had been to hell and back, but they had made it. Carl was healing, Judith was safe, and it felt like maybe, just maybe they could now catch their breath.
Carl wasn't quite the same as before but was now meeting regularly with Denise to work on his motor skills and some of the anger and frustration resulting from his wound. He thought about Michonne spending more time out of the house now, helping them rebuild, helping Spencer make repairs to the Monroe house, working with Maggie on the new plans.
All of this floated through his thoughts as he took in the pleading hopelessness in Michonne eyes. He'd broken the patchwork puzzle that had been their family and couldn't figure out how to put it all back together. They stood in the foyer of their home, mere feet separating them, but miles apart. Hands on hips, he tucked his head into his chin, not wanting to look at her, but knowing he must. Slowly, he lifted his eyes to meet the disbelief in hers.
He was struck by how his careless behavior upon arrival in Alexandria had led to his foolish decision to invite Jessie further into his– their lives. He hadn't been thinking rationally about the repercussions. Every instinct in his body had screamed that he needed to 'solve' this woman's problems. He now knew he had only added to them, as well as his own.
"How do you expect me to stay?" she spat, making sure he felt the full force of her infuriation at his actions. "How did you think this could possibly work? For fuck's Rick, I killed her son!"
He looked down at his feet, suddenly obsessed with the wear pattern that would soon create a hole at the top of his right boot. His harkened back to conversations he had had with Lori where she would accuse him of being obsessed with taking care of others and how that sometimes led to her feeling like he was neglecting his own family.
He knew why he had offered his help to Jessie. His madness had wrecked havoc on her life. The least he could do was try to fix it. In the moment, he hadn't worked through how Michonne and the rest of their family would take the news. He saw a problem that he felt only he could resolve, and so he tried. He'd been hasty, Jessie's urgency and tears leaving him too guilty to let her walk away without some sort of penitence from him.
"Michonne," Rick implored, trying to look past her ire and into the heart of the woman who had been by his side since practically the moment they'd met. "I fucked up. I didn't m– mean for any of this to happened. I killed her husband 'an made her son want to kill me. Ron's death, Carl's eye, Sam's hand, ALL of that is on me."
Pointing to his chest, he took a deep breath, tying to quiet the thumping of his heart, now echoing in his ears. Jessie's losses had been his fault. If he hadn't been so reckless. If he had told Michonne about Carol's and his plan from the beginning. If he had been fully conscious of why he was intrigued by Jessie. All of this. But mostly, if he had put his faith and trust where it should have been, with Michonne, maybe all of this could have been avoided.
"I did this. I'm just trying to help her get through this. I owe her at least that much."
"But this? Moving her in with us? Jesus Christ Rick, get off the cross! You DON'T owe her that."
"I fucked up Michonne. I'm just tryin' to fix it. I don't know how else to do that."
"You seem to forget that I was there too. I could have just disarmed Ron. If I think about it, maybe I had enough time. But I was angry. How dare he try to take what's mine away from me? Maybe my anger led me to take that boy's life."
Shaking his head, Rick dragged his fingers through the sweat-drenched curls plastered to his forehead, as the stifling heat poured in from an open front window. As painful as it was, he steeled himself and held her gaze, withering in the hurt and dejection he found in her eyes.
"I'm done Rick," she quietly stated. "I can– I don't want to do this with you anymore. I want more out of this life. I guess I'm just now realizing you're not more."
He felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. What was she saying? Did she really believe that? He could feel the tears creeping up and his anxiety rising. He could feel her slipping away and he had nothing in his arsenal to make her stay.
She forced him to hold her gaze. She had crushed him. She could tell. But, her rage easily overcame the small pang hitting her heart. She wouldn't fully register what she had actually said until much later. She'd finally decided to let this… whatever 'this' was, go. The bond between them had begun to feel like an anchor around her neck. Maybe some time apart would give them new perspective and repair the acrimony.
Maybe Rick could figure it out, could fix this. But, he'd have to figure it out without her to lean on. She hoped he could, for his sake. Scanning his face, she looked on as tears sprang to his eyes, the realization that she would consider leaving their home brought him low. He couldn't let her go. He couldn't let her leave them… leave him.
"Please Michonne," he begged, closing the space between them to grip her hand. "I'll tell her she can't move in."
She pulled her hand from his and said, "It's too late. Whatever you want with Jessie, here's your chance. You should take it."
"I don't want anything with Jessie! It has nothing to do with that. If that's what you're going to say to convince yourself to leave, then you do that."
"Don't put this shit on me. This is your doing!"
"How can you walk away? What about Carl? Judith? They need you!"
He knew he had gone too far as soon as he noted her eyes turn from sadness to fury and finally, to contempt. She seethed, clenching and unclenching her hands as she moved closer to the front door, finally pressing her back against it and crossing her arms as she glared at him.
"Fuck you Rick for even daring to use them to manipulate me!"
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it…" he said, watching as she scowled at him. "I'm sorry."
He didn't mind the arrows she had thrown. As painful as it was for him to admit it to himself, there was ample truth in all she had laid at his feet. He felt nothing but shame at his actions. His eyes quickly fell back to his boots.
Watching through the corner of his eye, he saw her reach down to grab the pack he had made sure to prepare and place next to the door in preparation for her run with Glenn the next day. She turned away from him, opened the front door, and walked out.
As the sound of her footsteps faded, he walked onto the porch, unable to do anything but watch her retreat. He slumped down onto the top step, head in hands. Whatever it took, whatever he needed to do, he would do it. Anything to bring her back. As his conviction soared, the doubts in the back of his mind began to bleed into his thoughts as well. What if he had been wrong? What if you don't get to come back?
"No!" Judith screeched, her squeal ricocheting through the freshly painted room. "I baby. Wanna sleep my bed!"
Michonne, stunned by the outburst, didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Judith seemed to have inherited her brother's sixth sense about things and had been unusually clingy since they had decided to permanently merge their household. Judith had become obsessed with Michonne's growing belly, mesmerized by the alien movements she'd witnessed over the past few months. It was all Michonne could do to keep her away. But with Rick and Carl out, all she wanted was to hold Judith even closer.
She relished these quiet moments with her. Judith's vocabulary seemed to have grown exponentially each month and was a marvel to see how much more she was able to express herself. And, express herself she did. There didn't seem to be anything that passed Judith's field of vision in which she didn't feel obligated to comment, or to at least ask what it was. Her quest for knowledge was endearing, although, also sometimes exhausting.
The latter stages of her pregnancy had brought significant fatigue, but for some reason, today, she had all the energy in the world and just wanted to spend it with her sweet Judy-bear. Looking at the consternation on Judith's face, she bit her bottom lip to avoid giggling as she sought to identify what had bothered her sweet girl so much.
She thought about this exact same conversation so long ago, in that other lifetime. How her precious Andre had been just as adamant about staying in his crib. How she had begged and cajoled him into this new racecar-shaped bed. How she spent the first night crammed into the bed with him just to show him how comfortable it truly was. How he made her do that for an entire week, despite Mike's consternation. How her heart filled with joy the first time he told her he was a "big boy" and didn't need her to stay in his bed with him because daddy was lonely. She smiled at that since it was very clear that Mike had given his son a talking-to.
The sharp pain of his loss had morphed into a dull ache, but it was still perceivable. She couldn't comprehend a time where it wouldn't be. Having the Grimes' in her life, as her family, had helped tamp down the bitter and enhance the sweet. Gazing upon a willful Judith, her heart raced in her chest. While scared of the proposition of keeping another child safe in this world, she wouldn't have wanted it any other way.
"Now sweetie," she gently began, laboring to sit down on the carpeted floor next to a sulking Judith. "You know there's no yelling in this house, right? You can tell me what's the matter without shouting, I know you can."
Sullen, Judith looked up, managing a small nod, but still unwilling to release her little arms, now crossed against her chest.
"So, what's wrong sweetie?" Michonne asked.
"I wanna my bed," she pouted. "No big girl bed."
"Awwww, baby," Michonne began. "But where will the baby sleep?"
"Floor," Judith quickly replied, her head rocketing up as she heard Michonne cackle at her response.
It couldn't be helped. The grumpy look on Judith's otherwise lovely face was just too cute. Being the only baby in the community had its advantages. There was never a shortage of hugs and kisses and general adoration thrown Judith's way. This coupled with Carl's relentless teasing that Judith would no longer be Michonne's only baby, was no doubt causing Judith to feel some type of way.
"But Judy, the floor is cold and hard. It won't be too nice for the baby, now would it? Now, weren't you just telling me you wanted a bed like Carl's?"
Judith seemed to be pondering it. On one hand, she wanted her big girl bed, but wasn't quite ready to give up her crib. Especially for a new baby. Usurping her throne would not be an easy task. But she could tell Michonne wanted her to do something else. She didn't like it, but she was a good girl and liked to obey Michonne.
"Baby no sleep on floor," she quietly replied.
"That's my big girl," Michonne cheered, taking in a small smile from her Judy-bear. "Now that we're finished making it, how about we go downstairs and make dinner?"
Judith nodded enthusiastically at the suggestion, wrapping her arms around Michonne's neck as she carefully, and slowly, rose from the floor.
She took her favorite girl down the stairs and into the kitchen. She'd promised Judith they would have pancakes again for dinner. As she placed her in the high chair and began gathering the ingredients to make their simple meal, she couldn't help but smile. This was it. The world as she had re-imagined it. She would never have thought this was possible when they first entered those gates.
As the baby in her belly made its presence known, a twinge of regret came to her, thinking of the man missing, but not forgotten. She silently acknowledged his sacrifice and gave thanks to all that he had given her. She vowed to do him proud. The pace of this life still shocked her. Had he only been gone such a short time ago? Yet, her life had irreversibly changed. She was… happy. Blissfully so. Elated by the love that surrounded her. Pleased that she had been able to fulfill his dying wish. Grateful for the chance to live her life aloud.
Time seemed to carry a different type of weight and scale in this new world. Days more closely resembled weeks; weeks felt more like years. The pace and uncertainty of life made each moment more monumental than the previous, and required the continuous cherishing of the things, great and small, that composed a good life.
It had taken Michonne weeks to finally let go of some of the pain. To no longer feel a twinge of heartache each time he came into her line of vision. To be able to inhale and exhale when she saw her with Carl and Judith. Even when both immediately rushed over to her, it was agonizing. Not having them in her home after so much time spent together on the road was difficult.
When she saw him now, she felt a stitch of sadness, but no longer the gut wrenching pain that had been her existence in the aftermath. She smiled to herself and thought back to Deanna's parting words. Maybe the pain had become useful to her. She'd been able to walk over coals to stand on the other side. She kept the hope Deanna had in the viability of Alexandria at the forefront of her mind, using it as a beacon when the sheer weight of all they needed to do became too much.
What she wanted then was the same as what she wanted now. She wanted a life. She wanted love. All this came to mind as she kneeled on the ground in the woods a short distance from the gates of Alexandria. She had followed Spencer out there after she and Rosita observed him signaling to Abe, who'd been guarding the gates, to open them for him.
She had been the one on guard duty when Rosita came up to relieve her; Daryl had been late and she planned to stay on until he returned, but the sight of Spencer leaving Alexandria worried her, so she begged off staying with Rosita to follow him into the forested area just outside Alexandria.
She'd stayed behind him, watching as he slung the riffle over his shoulder and continued on his path deeper into the woods. She was used to tracking and was able to keep herself quiet and hidden when needed. She looked on as he scanned the area, looking for what, she wasn't sure. She'd been spending quite a bit of time with Spencer, helping him sort out the house, and setting up space for it to become the primary screening area for new residents.
They often talked late into the night, waking each other up after both fell asleep on the couch. It was a nice, easy friendship, brought on by circumstance, but sustained by genuine fondness. There was something about his simpler approach to life that made him easy to lean on when she needed support. No hidden agenda, just someone who she knew liked her quite a bit but wasn't pushing for anything more than to simply stay in her presence.
She knew he was trying. He came to all the community meetings. He attended the shooting and hand-combat courses being run by Rick and team. He'd gotten pretty good with both a gun and knife fighting during close-quarters exercises. She'd been proud of his efforts. She knew he was tired, lonely in fact. She'd been staying with Glenn and Maggie since leaving but had been sharing most of her watches with Spencer over the past few weeks, uncovering what made this young man tick.
When she heard rustling just to the left of them, she made her presence known, causing Spencer to whip around towards her, gun raised and ready to fire. Quickly noticing her, he turned back to what had now caught both of her attention: the shocking reanimated figure of Deanna staggering towards them. Her heart fell as realization flooded her senses.
Michonne looked on as Spencer took his knife out of its sheath and moved towards his mother. She could hear him sob as Deanna drew closer. Worried that he might not be able to do what was necessary, she pulled her katana from its sheath and moved nearer to mother and son. Seconds from walker Deanna reaching Spencer, he swiftly pierced her skull with his knife.
Michonne looked on as Deanna quieted and fell to the ground. Spencer stood above her for a few moments, taking in the stillness of his mother's body at his feet, his body shaking as he wept. He felt Michonne at his side before he could actually see her. There was comfort in her presence. She'd been the one keeping him afloat all these weeks, but he didn't tell her how he had spotted his mother during a run to dump bodies and had been going out daily to find her and end her misery.
Michonne stayed by his side as he pulled a retractable shovel from his backpack and began digging a burial plot for his mother. He'd thought about bringing her back to Alexandria; burying her with the others. But, she'd always loved this patch of nature so close to their community. It felt apt to bury her outside the walls where she could, perhaps, guard those who would dare try to breach Alexandria again.
Michonne stayed to help carve a marker to denote Deanna's final resting place. She stayed when Spencer refused to leave, telling her there was nothing left for him in Alexandria and maybe it would be best if he just moved on. She was there to let him know that he had something back in Alexandria. That he still had family and she had no intention of letting him do this on his one. So, when he dropped to his knees, and eventually sat down under a tree a short distance from Deanna's grave, Michonne walked over and sat next to him.
The remained there, inches apart, cloaked in a calming silence as they took in their surroundings. It was quiet, still. The only sounds reaching their ears intermittent bird calls in the distance. After several minutes of quietness, Spencer, not surprisingly, was the one to break it.
"In my mom's letter," he began, his voice so low that she leaned closer to him to pick up what he was saying. "She told me that I could learn a lot from you. Said that when I was ready, I should seek you out. I got it. I knew what she was trying to do. She wanted me to stay. To stay and fight. Fight for a life. Sometimes, I wonder if it's worth it."
"How can you say that? It's hasn't even been two months since… since all of it happened. Look at all the process we've made. Look at what you've accomplished."
"What's that?" he countered. "I haven't done anything everyone else isn't doing. I just wanted to prove to her and to myself that I was capable of at least trying."
"Don't you see she was right about you?"
"Well, she was a good judge of character," he said, chuckling quietly as his eyes filled with tears. "Told me when the time comes, I'd know the right path to take. I don't know why she said it. I don't know my way, not in this world. I know no one could have imagined the world turning to shit, but it's hard going it along. I always figured we'd survive or die, but together. I never could have dreamt this turning out like this."
His voice cracked as he continued, "I do want to become the man she hoped I'd be. It's just… much harder to do without family."
She reached out to grasp his hand, their fingers intertwining as he looked down, then up at her equally tears-filled eyes.
"Well, I know she was right about you," she softly said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "I'm out here, in the blazing sun, helping you lay her to rest. How could you say you don't have family? I'm here. We're all here for you. No one can make it alone any more. Trust me, I tried. We'll make it, but it has to be together. That's the only way it works.
He held her gaze, amazed by the faith she seemed to have in him, even when he couldn't muster the same sentiments about himself. God, she was amazing. She'd already taught him so much.
As she gazed into his eyes, tears pooling in the corners, she saw relief, hope, and maybe something else. His hardened hands continued clinging to her warm ones as he slowly, softly, pulled her towards him. She drifted towards him willingly. His left hand moved to caress her cheek, tickling her chin and causing her to giggle through her tears. The sound was music to his ears and caused a smile to form in the midst of his tears.
Slowly, their lips touched. Softly, tentatively. He held his breath, waiting for her to break it off. But she didn't. He slowly relaxed and pulled her closer to him as her warm soft lips soothed his soul. He pulled back to gaze at her, intoxicated by her very being. He would do anything for this woman.
Michonne looked back at him. It had been a long time since she'd had this feeling. This feeling of being the sole object of someone's adoration. The sense that her very presence was a salve for another's healing. The recognition of someone willing to do anything to ensure her happiness. She briefly thought of what could have been but pushed it into the darker alcoves of her consciousness. She wasn't sure where this would lead, but she wanted to see.
Whatever lay on the road ahead, she wouldn't squander any more moments. She would revel in each as it came. She would savor the sweet and spit out the bitter. She would seek her own joy, her own passion. She would let her heart lead her, not just her head. She would let herself be open to the possibilities.
"What is all this?" Michonne asked, balancing Judith on her hip as she opened the front door and walked into the dining room. "I wasn't expecting you back until later this evening. What have you two been up to?"
She had been out most of the day helping inventory the vegetable seeds in the pantry, picking out which should be planted in the new plot they had tilled. Her little shadow had insisted on joining, happily spending most of the day bringing small shipping boxes with seeds back and forth to Michonne.
Michonne furrowed her eyebrows as she looked over at Carl, busily setting the table for dinner, and Rick, back to her in front of the stove. Delicious whiffs of whatever he had cooking made her mouth water. He'd gotten to be a much better cook than the man she first encountered at the prison. Carl stayed silent, a small smile in place, as Rick turned to face Michonne.
"Nothin' much," he joked, turning back to stir whatever was cooking on the stove. "Just thought we'd have a nice dinner tonight. Daryl finally got around to butcherin' one of the bulls. We're gonna smoke most of it, but I figured we haven't had a roast in a long, long time. Seemed like the perfect time for one."
"I won't argue with that logic," Michonne sighed contently, walking over to place Judith in her high chair. "It smells amazing, doesn't it sweetie?"
Judith nodded vigorously, clapping her hands in excitement as Rick and Michonne laughed. Their girl did love her food.
"I help?" Judith queried, looking back and forth from Michonne to Rick.
"'Course darlin'" Rick replied, taking a small bowl of peas he'd already prepared in anticipation of Judith's request, and placing it on her high chair's tray.
As expected, the first thing Judith did was pick one up and promptly shove it into her mouth. She hummed loudly as she chewed, keeping her eyes on Michonne as she leaned on the counter and beamed at her sweetpea.
"Pea you!" Judith yelled, holding out a piece for Michonne. "Daddy and Cawl too!"
Michonne leaned over and accepted the gift, which Judith plopped on her tongue, before giggling at Michonne's dramatized ecstatic response. Rick and Carl got in line to receive Judith's gifts. After a few rounds, Judith most have noticed the depletion of her stash and went back to simply feeding herself.
Michonne chuckled and turned back to Rick.
"Anything I can help you with?"
"Nah, Carl and me got it. Just fixin' the sides here. The farm crew pulled up the first batch of potatoes and peas, so figured we'd go all out tonight. Looks real good right?"
"All this time, and the most important thing is still food. I guess that'll never change."
"I reckon it won't, but it's nice to know we finally have enough, even some to spare. We're blessed."
She nodded, a grin on her face, "we certainly are."
She walked over to the stove to check on the roast Rick had taken out to rest. Uncovering it, the rich aroma wafted through the room, awaking her appetite, and causing her stomach to growl.
"Hmmmm. It looks wonderful Rick."
"Hey Michonne," Carl called out, sitting at the table, awaiting the meal when he could have been helping. "Didn't you say you were a vegetarian before? What gives?"
"What gives is beggars can't be choosers," Michonne countered, picking up a pea from Judith's bowl and tossing it at his head.
Ducking expertly, Carl laughed, "I guess it wouldn't make any sense these days."
"Probably not, but let's all wish for a time when we have the luxury of such a thing. Veganism should be the goal in this world."
"Amen," Rick interjected, bringing the roast and mashed potatoes over to the table. "Wait a minute, what? Vegan? I take that back. Now let's eat."
Laughing, Michonne grabbed the peas from the stovetop and brought them over to the table, while Rick lifted Judith, high chair and all, and set her down at the table. Even though they had 6 chairs and could have spread out a bit, they'd grown accustomed to doing everything within reach of each other. So, they had fallen into a rhythm where Rick sat at the head with Carl to his left, Michonne to his right, and Judith's high chair taking the corner between Rick and Michonne.
Michonne took Judith's plastic plate and began chopping up the meat into bite-sized pieces for the little girl. She had to work quickly as Judith grew antsy when the prospect of food was right in front of her, but she wasn't able to partake of it. Rick filled each of their plates, while Michonne finished with Judith's and placed it back in front of the impatient girl.
"I'll start tonight," Carl said, taking a sip from his lemonade before briefly looking back down to his plate, then back up the Rick and Michonne. "I'm thankful that we're all here, safe and together."
Carl cleared his throat. He was grateful that they had weathered all the things that had happened before and had been able to all, as a family, safely emerge on the other side. He hadn't expected to suddenly feel overwhelmed, but he had. A year ago, he couldn't have imagined they'd be here, let alone all together. With the threat of Negan beating at their gates, and so much loss already behind them, he figured they wouldn't all have survived. But, they did. And not just survived, they were thriving. They had Michonne back in their lives, and he had Enid. He thought back to Michonne telling him how proud of him his mom wouldn't have been and he realized she had been right.
Nodding, Rick reached out to clasp Carl's trembling hand as he began, "I'm thankful for every single person at this table. You're my life and I would do anythin' to make sure you're safe. Safe and happy. I'll never let you go."
Turning to look at her, he continued "I'm thankful for you Michonne. I'm thankful to have a home with you, and our children."
"What about you Judy-bear?" Michonne cooed, already misting from Carl and Rick's comments. "What are you thankful for?"
"Food!" Judith yelled, mashed potatoes and peas spilling from her mouth.
"We're gonna have to work on her table manners," Michonne whispered, catching Rick's eye.
"It's the new world, table manners don't count," Carl stated.
"In any world, table manners count, young man," Michonne retorted, pinning him with a teasing glare.
"Yes, ma'am," Carl said, laughing as Judith, mouth agape, continued to giggle.
"Well, I guess it's my turn," she began. "Let's see… I'm thankful for finding each one of you at the end of the world, and I'll never let you go either."
Looking around the table, Michonne marveled at the gifts the fates had chosen to bestow. She'd never take any of it for granted. As the dinner began to wind down, Carl, surprisingly, volunteered to take an already dozing Judith, sleepy from her impressive intake of meat and potatoes, upstairs for a bath, story, and bedtime. Ordinarily, Judith would have protested, at least wanting Michonne for the story, but Michonne promised to come by for kisses before she fell asleep, which appeased the tired girl.
...
Michonne looked on as Rick cleared the table. Storying the leftovers in the refrigerator, while soaking the plates and pans in the sink. Once done, he came back to the table to sit and hold her hand.
"Thank you, Rick," she beamed at him. "This was special."
"Well, I 'spose that's on you," he said, grinning at her. "You always make everythin' feel special. Figured it's the least I could do. 'Sides, gotta feed that baby… and Judith."
"They're both insatiable," she chuckled.
He held her gaze, smiling at the blissful aura that seemed to have taken permanent residence around them and their home. There was no chance that trouble wouldn't eventually come their way again, but he'd never felt as confident as he did now that together, they could take on anything.
"C'mon, I've got a surprise for you," he said, raising up from his seat and pulling her up with him.
"Careful now Mr. Grimes," she laughed, getting her bearings as her center of gravity shifted. "I'm not as nimble as I once was."
"I've no doubt you can handle yourself, but don't worry, I gotcha."
He pulled her towards himself, wrapping an arm around her waist as he guided her up the stairs. The walked past Judith's new room, directly across the hall from Carl's, proceeding to the small office space across from the master at the end of the hall. They had been debating whether or not to use that as the nursery or keep Judith's crib in her room and double her up with the baby.
"Close your eyes," he asked, waiting until he had done so.
He opened the door, flicking on the light, as he gently guided her to the center of the room. He looked around, proud of all the work he and Carl and done to get the room ready.
"Alright now, open your eyes."
She opened them, blinking several times to adjust to the artificial light casting shadows across the room. Slowly, she began to take all of it in. First, she noticed the dove gray walls, accentuated with pastel yellow stripes running vertically on an accent wall. Judith's crib, now painted white, was pushed against the accent wall. The matching white changing table and dressing, beautiful and perfect. Then she saw it. The stenciled name above the crib.
"How did…," she whispered, tears not bothering to pause on their journey down her cheeks. "How did you know about the name?"
"From the note in that poetry book you show'd," he confessed. I wasn't bein' nosy, I swear. I just noticed the name Spencer had circled at the top of the page. No more secrets: we did go to the Kingdom, but to pick all'a this up. Daryl 'an I found most of the furniture during our last run and stashed it there."
She looked at him, amazed that he had picked up the small detail of a she and Spencer had written and folded into a book with a boy's name and a girl's. Rick never missed her cues. Never let her close her eyes without telling her how much she meant to him. Always made sure she felt his love. After all they'd been through, he made sure she knew he'd forever be her home.
"I can't believe you and Carl got all of this done in one day," she smiled, marveling at the beautiful job they'd done.
"I'd do anythin' for you, you know that," he replied, pulling her towards him. "And so would Carl. Most of the design was on him anyway. You know a can't match colors to save my life."
He looked at her, her broad smile beaming back at him. He was so proud to have gotten this right. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, his heart delighted at the prospect of this life, their life together. He couldn't imagine doing this without her. And if he was lucky, he never would.
A/N: We're making our way to the end of this story. I've got 2 chapters (maybe 3…) left + an epilogue. As always, thank you for reading!
