Written for 25 Days After Negan for Richonne Just Desserts: Day 22 (Rick and Michonne get ready for battle and reminisce about past confrontations)


Carl let out a loud yawn, stretching his tired limbs. "I don't know about you guys but I'm going to bed," his eyes watered from exertion, "Tired."

Rick and Michonne nodded at the young boy in understanding. It was late. The three of them had spent all night huddled around the kitchen table, revising every detail of their plan of attack; they couldn't leave anything to chance. They wouldn't underestimate Negan again.

Rick had been against the idea of involving Carl but given their limited options, he set aside his instinct to overprotect his boy. Carl's knowledge of the compound was essential. Besides, working together - having a common goal - was helping ease the tension between them. They had something to look forward to, something to focus on. It was exactly as Michonne had predicted when she convinced him to include the young boy.

Carl wearily stood from his chair and reached out to gently squeeze her shoulder beside him. She smiled warmly, resting her hand atop his. Rick grinned. He wasn't the only one who appreciated her: Carl and Judith loved her to pieces.

Aside from keeping them alive, she kept them hopeful. She was the guiding light of the family. Finding her in the middle of all this was a miracle, a small yet crucial sign of mercy in this godforsaken world.

"'Night," Carl tiredly called out behind him as he turned to walk away.

"G'night," she murmured, Rick echoing the sentiment. They silently gazed as he shuffled off to his room.

The soft glow of the lanterns induced a calm, reflective mood. Exhaustion was beginning to set in. The couple relaxed in their chairs, staring serenely at the piles of paper before them, taking in the still of the night, the buzzing tension of preparation tapering off.

After a moment of easy silence, Rick softly snorted.

Thrown off by his sudden reaction, she gave him a puzzled look across the table. "What?"

He grinned and gently shook his head. "I just…," he said, looking down at the map in front of him, thoughts running through his head of his son as an infant resting against his chest, tiny and helpless. It truly felt as if all these years had passed by in the blink of an eye.

"Sometimes I can't believe how much he's grown up," he said finally, utterly amazed by his son's resilience. He would have never survived if his life had been turned upside down at that age. The strength he possessed to continue persevering in a world that had cruelly taken so much away from him was beyond his understanding.

Michonne sighed deeply, thoughts of the things she'd been around to see the young boy go through flashed through her mind. "He's been through a lot," she sagely agreed.

"Yeah," he rasped softly, "He has."

They'd all been through a lot. How they'd made it this far was inexplicable. The odds were against them but they'd survived and found each other in the process. Though the world was full of unimaginable cruelty, they'd discovered a precious life worth living.

"He's overcome what life's thrown at him," she said assuredly, teasingly adding, "He is a survivor, just like his old man."

He scoffed lightly, humored by her lighthearted dig, and leaned back against his chair, rubbing his eye. "I don't know if I'd call that survival. Feels more like a bad habit I can't seem to shake off."

She raised her eyebrows in understanding. Living nowadays felt more like a burden than a blessing. Life didn't come without paying the price, a price that took its toll over time. Still, she was able to fully appreciate that Rick's 'bad habit' of living had kept them alive more times than she could count. She couldn't imagine everything he'd done for Carl before she was around.

"It's a habit that's kept him alive," she pointed out, quietly gazing at him.

He skeptically raised his brow, keeping his eyes on the table in front of him. "Yeah, with one less eye."

She frowned at his ill attempt at humor, gazing up at him evenly. "That wasn't on you," she reminded him.

He searched her steady gaze for a moment before looking away. "Maybe," he said unconvinced, his fingertips quietly tapping against the table.

All he knew was that she'd saved them countless times, specifically that horrifying night. He still had nightmares about it, that fateful shot still ringing in his ears. If she hadn't been there, they'd both be dead. He'd certainly not been in the right state of mind to defend himself from the relentless herd of walkers.

"To be honest, that night, we wouldn't've made it past that herd if it wasn't for you," he confessed openly.

She inhaled deeply. It had been rough night but they'd made it through. In hindsight, it was a good thing nothing living had gotten in their way because she would've sliced right through it without hesitation. Apparently, desperation and Carl's life hanging in the balance was the perfect combination needed to release the mama bear in her.

A smile tugged at her lips as Rick's first words upon entering Alexandria came to mind. She attempted to maintain a serious face, her smile betraying her. "Yeah," she affirmed. "Good thing I was there."

He smiled with a quiet snort, shaking his head. Though she was kidding, she was right. It truly was a good thing she was there. His smile faded as a contemplative look passed over his face.

"You're right." The past year's events came to mind and in every scenario, he saw her face. "You've always been there for us. Looking out for us. Saving our asses. Saving my ass," he pointed out.

She gazed at him puzzled by his sudden appreciation. "I wasn't the only one saving asses. You had a lot to do with it, too."

He looked at her skeptically. He didn't see it that way. He was the one that got them onto these difficult situations. She was the one who bailed them out.

"Says the woman who single-handedly saved me from the Governor," he retorted, still in obvious awe of her incredibly skills with her sword and ability to handle herself.

She shrugged indifferently. Though she'd had her personal reasons for killing him, those hadn't factored in when the moment came. Protecting Rick had been her focus.

"True but when we came across Terminus, you found our family, kept us going. You got us out of there. Alive and in one piece," she reminded him.

"That was Carol," he corrected her. "I was the one who got us into that mess in the first place."

"Mmm," she said in a disagreeing tone, though relenting after he gave her an unconvinced look, knowing there was no changing his mind.

"Fine but you were there when things got impossible. That night on the road with Daryl and that group…," her voice trailed, wanting him to understand yet not wanting to get into more details, "We wouldn't have made it out alive if it wasn't for you."

He sighed heavily. Yes, they'd made it out alive but that night had been one of the worst of his life. He'd crossed a line he could never uncross. Contemplatively looking down at the map before him, he absentmindedly rubbed his thumb against it.

"Yeah," he murmured shamefully, that moment slowly emerging from the depths he'd shoved it down.

A haunting taste of iron filled his mouth as the memory clouded before him. He swallowed thickly and blinked away the daze settling over him. That moment was not something he particularly enjoyed remembering.

Immediately picking up on his remorse, she quickly tried to assuage his guilt. "You saved us that night. Carl wouldn't be here. I wouldn't be here if you hadn't done what you did. You saved us just like you always have."

"Somehow I don't think that compares," he said quietly, avoiding her gaze.

She tilted her head, looking at him compassionately. Here he sat feeling less than human for what he did, making him all the more human. For being so strong and resilient, he carried a lot of guilt on his shoulders. Though he'd done his best to keep them safe and alive, he didn't think it was enough. He wanted them safe yet wanted to protect them from suffering the unavoidable extremes surviving in this world required.

If this past year had taught her anything, it was that filtering out the bad was a luxury no person in this world could afford. Seeing the ugly, the evil people were capable of, was unavoidable. If avoiding that was impossible, then comparing what they'd had to do to survive made no sense.

She reached out to still his hand with hers. "Then don't. Don't compare. Keeping each other alive, that wasn't something we had any control over. It was what it was. What matters is that we pulled through. We survived together."

She had a point. No matter what situation they found themselves in, they always made it out, together. Starving, threatened, lives hanging by a thread, they'd withstood it all.

After everything they'd suffered, this seemingly impossible challenge in front of them didn't seem quite so impossible. Their past would save them. They would make it to the other side. They had to. They still had a future to live out. Inspiration reignited his soul.

"You're right," he said abruptly, looking up at her, a new determination settling in his chest. He turned his hand over to clasp hers firmly. "We'll make it. We'll make it through this, too. We have to."

She nodded, searching his eyes determinedly, pride swelling in her chest. "We will."

The lantern lights glowed steadily, illuminating the two warriors, a renewed sense of purpose and peace filling the air. Together they would conquer the impossible, meet their fate. Together they would live to see another day.