Thanks everyone for continuing to take this journey!

Chapter Twenty- seven

Michonne completed a call with the Fulton County jail. She'd woken 45 minutes earlier to take some Advil for the cramps she was persistently having because of the miscarriage. She'd then called her boss to tell the woman she wouldn't be in to work that day and likely wouldn't be in for the next couple of days. With the intense workload, the woman was not pleased that Michonne would be missing anytime from work right now, until Michonne explained why she was going to be out. She'd confessed all that had happened, save for her pregnancy and miscarriage, letting the woman know about the incident the night before, how she and a close friend had been attacked at gunpoint right in front of the office building. She'd told her boss how they'd both ended up at the hospital and had spent most of the night there before arriving home late the previous evening. The woman had been horrified and shocked and had asked a litany of questions about the situation, all which Michonne answered.

She had expressed sorrow over what happened and understanding about Michonne being terribly shaken over the events that had taken place. The woman had then instructed her to get some rest and not to worry about work, that things would get taken care of until she returned. Michonne had been relieved at the support, and therefore thanked the woman for her understanding. After she hung up with her boss, she'd made the difficult call to her OBGYN and updated her scheduled appointment. She was due to go back the in a few days for a follow up so the doctor could monitor the baby's heart rate and growth, but since she'd lost the baby, she'd called to let them know, and change her appointment simply to a checkup. It had been an agonizing call, which caused her to shed a few tears, after, but she'd taken a few moments to get herself together, then made another call to the Fulton County jail to check up on Shane Walsh.

She wanted to know when he'd be arraigned and thus released. To her relief, his court hearing would not be held until the following day, and therefore he had not been released. She knew what Rick had said, that it was unlikely that Shane would receive bond. However, justice could often be blind and thus, people didn't always receive the punishment that was due them. Therefore, she'd called the jail to be sure, not that there was anything she could do about it if the man had been released on bond. Hell, he still could, be released, but she had to know what was happening now, and planned to keep an eye on the case so that she nor Rick would be surprised by Shane showing up unexpectedly again and trying hurt him.

Michonne shivered at the thought as she made her way down the hall, pushing the horror of that possibility from her mind, not wanting to think any more about what the man had done, only wanting to focus on the here and now, on Rick. The night before, after she'd professed her love to him, which she still couldn't believe she'd done. As crazy as it was, in the short time they'd known each other, she knew that she loved Rick, but she hadn't been ready to say it, why? She didn't know.

Maybe because his divorce was still hanging over their heads; maybe because it'd mean they'd be full steam ahead which meant, what she didn't know. The feelings they shared could be so easy, yet so intense, almost scary, unlike anything she'd ever felt before. But when he'd asked her what was next, the only answer she could give him was that she loved him, which meant she was ready for them to move forward together. Rick had been deeply moved to hear her say those three words, ecstatic, after which, nothing more was said, for he'd crashed from utter exhaustion. At first she'd been alarmed, thinking it was the concussion causing a serious medical issue, but quickly realized that he was just dead tired.

It was as if the weight of all that he'd been going through, what they'd needed to discuss, which had been weighing him down, keeping him awake, charging him with adrenaline, had lifted. And once their much-needed conversation was over, it freed him to rest. She'd barely kept him coherent enough to make it to her bedroom, where she'd learned that not only did he have a concussion and a sprained hand, but that his ribs had been bruised too, due to the yelp and groan he'd made when she'd helped him in the bed. She'd managed to get him to take a couple of Tylenol to ease the pain before she'd then assisted him in taking off his shoes and pants, leaving him only in his boxers and a t-shirt to sleep. She'd then jumped in the shower to clean up. The warm water had done her good, relaxing her, along with the knowledge that there were no more secrets between them. Once she'd finished her shower, she'd made her way to the bed and crashed herself, sleep overtaking her as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Now, yet tired, Michonne yawned as she walked into her bedroom to find that Rick was still soundly asleep. She slipped under the sheets beside him, then, for a minute, watched him closely to make sure he was breathing okay. He was, after all, suffering from a concussion. She didn't know what to expect from that. She didn't even know if he should be sleeping so much, but remembered what he'd told her weeks ago about how Carl's concussion had been handled. Nevertheless, she wanted to make sure he was alright. When she saw that his breathing was steady and strong, that he looked more peaceful than she'd seen him in a while, she relaxed at his side and quickly fell into tranquil sleep herself.

Three - hours later

A loud crash of thunder, along with a hard rain, hitting the windows, gradually stirred Michonne, interrupting what had been a wonderfully calming dream. She lay there a moment, her eyes closed as she lightly stretched, quietly groaning at the relief it brought, before she then languidly opened her eyes to find the most beautiful tender blue gaze, staring back at her.

"What are you doing?" She shyly gasped with surprised.

"Watching you." Rick quietly replied with a smile, then leaned forward and gently kissed her lips.

"For how long?" She sighed as he pulled away.

"I don't know." He honestly uttered. For after he'd awoke, he'd gone to the restroom, answered a couple of texts from Carl, but had not been tracking how long it had been since he'd returned to the bed and had become mesmerized by watching her peacefully sleep. Rick briefly turn away and came back with a box of Altoids. Opening it, he handed her one, making her laugh, then popped one in his own mouth before putting the box away.

"Now who's ruining the moment?" She retorted with mirth, then put a piece of the candy in her mouth, referencing what he'd said to her the first time she'd handed him an Altoids, that morning after they'd first made love.

"This is a moment?" Rick lightly joked, his gaze a mixture of muted joy and love.

"What do you think?" She softly replied, then chastely kissed his lips. "How are you feeling?" She then asked.

"Better." He truthfully replied as Michonne watched him closely, knowing that it was an honest response. For everything about him look better. There was more life in his eyes and his coloring was less faded, but still, she'd feel better if they got reassurance from a doctor.

"How about you?" He asked before she could voice her lingering concerns.

"Better." She echoed his thoughts. "I should take you back to the hospital and have the doctor look at you one more time." She said, turning the conversation back to him.

"Michonne…"

"Just to make sure your head is okay." She quietly spoke over him.

"They did an MRI yesterday. I'm okay." He assured. "I just need rest, which I'm getting right here." He uttered, then kissed her lips once more.

"Ok. But what about your hand and ribs?" She countered, futility trying to ignore the fervor his kissed caused, knowing that they couldn't act on it with her still recovering from the miscarriage and him from his fight with Shane.

"I am feeling a little soreness." He slowly admitted, reigniting her alarm which he'd managed to abate with his previous response. "But it's nothing that a Tylenol can't cure." He added.

"You sure?"

"I'm sure." He confirmed, the certainty in his eyes, calming the last of her worries, driving her to gently grasp his bandage hand and caress it with her mouth, before bringing it to rest over her heart. Michonne closed her eyes and breathed with ease, again thankful that he was here and okay, when Rick drifted into her thoughts, inciting her to meet his gaze again.

"We didn't finish our conversation from last night." He uttered in a hushed tone. "What's next for us." He said. "I want, to start over or continue, whatever it is we need to do to be together, I'm here for it." He vowed, his gaze beautifully intense, flooding her with love.

"Me too." She concurred, rousing happiness and amour in Rick's heart. "But, there has to be some changes before we can move forward…No more secrets. We tell each other everything, no matter how hurtful or…scary it may be."

"No more secrets." Rick whispered in agreement as their eyes remained fervidly bound.

"Ok, well...I have something to confess." She uttered. Rick spoke no response, but patiently waited for her to continue. "I take that back…it's not a confession really, but there is something you should know." She hesitantly stated. "Last night, I not only had a run in with Lori…I also met Carl."

"I know." Rick replied, bewildering Michonne. "He told me."

"What did he tell you?"

"Everything."

"He told you that he accused me of keeping you and Lori apart? And blamed me for you being in the hospital?"

"He did." Rick confirmed, surprising Michonne. "And I talked to him about that."

"What did you tell him?"

"I got on to him about speaking what he knew was a lie." He detailed as he gently caressed a lock of her hair, playing with its tip. "And reminded him about the importance of taking responsibility of one's own choices."

"Did he accept what you had to say?"

"He confessed that he felt it was, too soon… for me to move on from his mom." He cautiously revealed.

"That was expected." Michonne sighed, then worriedly turned to lay on her back, concluding that was why the boy had lashed out at her, because no matter all that had happened, he wanted his parents back together.

"It was." Rick agreed, giving no indication of the concern he felt over her disquiet. "But I explained to him that after a divorce, people eventually move on. I let him know, that I've moved on…with you."

"What?!" Michonne softly exclaimed, returning her attention to him. "I'm sure that went over well." She uneasily scoffed.

"He didn't run from the room in a huff, but he wasn't jumping for joy either." Rick disclosed. "It's going to take some time for him to get used to the idea that I've moved on. But he'll get used to it."

"And if he doesn't?"

"He'll get used to it. And with time, he'll grow to love you. I'm sure of it." Rick strongly assured once more, holding her gaze, conveying to her his absolute belief that Carl would come to accept her, accept their relationship, bringing her so close to believing, but not quite, as she recalled the anger the little boy displayed at her, believing that she'd destroyed his family. "I know you're worried, but it'll be okay." He added. Michonne nodded her head as she briefly dropped her eyes, forcing herself to embrace his belief, for now. "Come here." He then huskily requested and she complied, shifting his way, which allowed him to pull her into his arms, holding her against him as he brushed her forehead with his lips, releasing a heavenly heat through her form. It was somewhat strange, being so close to him in bed with both covered – him in boxers and a t-shirt and her in a pair of PJ pants and matching tank, but it still felt just as intimate, as if they were nude having just made love.

"We shouldn't stay like this all day." She breathed, even as she nestled her head in his neck, breathing in his intoxicating male scent. "We should probably get something to eat."

"We should, but not yet. I just want to stay here a little longer." He sighed, then pulled her closer, gently tightening his arms around her, kissing her forehead once more and groaning at the amazing joy and amour she kindled within him. They remained there, in that moment, for a long while, quiet and contented, listening to the thunder and the rain, speaking occasionally into the quiet about things they'd wanted so much to talk about during the weeks past; not all the trouble that life had been throwing their way, but just the monotony of life. Rick mentioned his improved diet, all due to her, which had been a happy surprise for Michonne, how he'd been eating better and getting in more exercise. He'd also mentioned the project he was working on with Morgan and several other officers in his department, to engage kids in underprivileged communities by getting them involved in positive activities and was partnering with a Foundation based in Savannah on creating some mentoring programs. Michonne had been thrilled to hear of the project and had offered to partner with him and the department to do some art classes for the kids, which he'd excitedly welcomed.

They talked the election, their disbelief over the newly elected President, joked about leaving the country and discussed their concerns about how the results were already causing a negative impact on the Country's mood. She'd told him how lately she had little time for anything but work, which she admitted was starting to cause her to feel the initial symptoms of burnout. However, she had managed to attend the Halloween party she'd mentioned to him before their breakup. "I went dressed as Storm from X-men." She'd told him. Rick had in turn commented on how sexy he was certain she looked and would've loved to have seen that. "Maybe I'll show you sometime." She'd uttered, then tasted his lips with tamed passion and asked about Carl's trick or treating adventures.

Rick had astonished her with the news that Carl had completely changed his costume, from superhero to Sheriff's Deputy. "I wonder who could've inspired him to make that change?" Michonne quipped with gaiety. "It wasn't me." Rick had laughed. "Well I didn't ask him to make that change. He just came home one day and said that's what he wanted to be." Michonne couldn't help but comment on how sweet it was that he wanted to be like him, which had sparked a long discussion about Rick wanting more for his son, for him to live a life beyond Palmer. Do and see more than he had in his life. "I want him to learn from me, but not be me. You understand?" He asked. Michonne had told him that she did, but encouraged him to allow Carl go where he's led and assured that no matter what path he eventually chose, with him as his father, he'd grow to be his own man. "I hope so." Rick had replied, heartened by her wisdom, before the conversation had drifted to her job with her telling him of all the drama going on there and her choice to not go in today. She couldn't "after all that had gone on yesterday." She'd said. When their discussion had moved to Mike and his part in the offer she'd been presented with his firm. She'd provided Rick with more details about the position and her plans to interview for it in a few weeks, but how she was now uncertain about it all.

"Mike is still…attached. He wants to get back together, and me working with him and him being there when I learned…I was pregnant isn't helping." She'd stated with difficulty, her heart hurting at what had been lost, with Rick sensing her feelings and experiencing his own pain, strengthen his arms around her. "As much as I want an opportunity at that position, I don't think it's workable with Mike being a part of the equation." She said, which led to her and Rick discussing the pros and cons of the position, outside of Mike, what might be negotiable i.e. travel, where she was based, the projects she managed. Rick had admitted that he didn't want her to take the job for the obvious reasons, because she'd be working with her ex, she'd be traveling a lot and may possibly have to move to New York, but he encouraged her to at least interview, see what comes from the it, even if she decided not to take the job, another career opportunity could potentially come from the experience. He'd pointed out. So, she'd decided to not cancel the interview just yet. She'd take more time to think about it, when their conversation had gradually quieted, overtaken by the sounds of heavy thunder and relentless rain, drenching the streets outside, until they fell into another peaceful slumber.

Hours later they'd awaked again to find that the day was still stormy. However, they'd ventured out of the bedroom, with Rick getting a quick shower and throwing on a t-shirt and a pair of boxers he'd left behind the last time he was at her place, while the clothes he'd had on earlier were being washed, before he'd joined Michonne in the living room. They'd snacked on a bowl of fruit – grapes, sliced apples, strawberries and melon while catching the last hour of 28 Days Later on SyFy, which both were watching for the first time. Michonne had initially been against them watching television, thinking it wouldn't be a good idea with Rick still recovering from his concussion, but he'd maintained that he would be okay. If he did one activity at a time, i.e. no watching TV and talking on the phone all at once, he should be okay. He'd explained and promised to tell her if he started to feel unwell. So, they'd watched, and debated what would happen if the world was taken over by enraged zombies. Would they survive? Would the world be overtaken by tyrants and/or psychos, of the humans who lived? Rick was sure it would be, as did Michonne, with both citing what happened in the movie. Furthermore, Rick was unsure about his survival, but Michonne begged to differ, reminding him that he was a cop and that he'd be the best type to survive a zombie apocalypse. When he'd asked "What about you?" to which she'd answered "I don't think so. I'd probably die in the first round of folks taken out by the zombies."

"I doubt it." Rick had confidently countered to a skeptical Michonne. "There's a fire and toughness about you, that you don't see."

"Really?" She smiled in wonderment.

"Yeah." He confirmed without a doubt. "I think you'd be alright. You'd probably save yourself and few others in a zombie apocalypse."

"You think?"

"Sure. You'd might even save me." He stated with a softness that warmed her heart, yet stirred her doubt.

"Ok now you're just pulling my leg." She'd contended, giving him a gently side eye.

"Not pulling your leg." He claimed, then followed it up by tenderly taking her lips. Michonne's smile broadened as he pulled away, his eyes a sea of love and mirth.

They'd continued their discussion, having a good laugh about the heinous food choices and hygiene problems and her choice of a weapon, which she'd said would likely be anything but a gun. It was a fun discussion, that had them fervidly laughing for the first time in weeks. It had felt amazingly normal, like everything was going to be okay despite the challenges they still faced.

After finishing the movie they'd been famished and had not really been up for cooking. Therefore, they'd decided to order a pizza. While waiting for it to be delivered, Michonne prepared a toss salad with romaine lettuce, spinach, cherry tomatoes, stick carrots, onions and feta cheese. She'd insisted that Rick, sit down and rest while she fixed the salad. He'd already been doing too much with his injuries. She'd argued, but he wanted to help and refused to just go away and let her do it alone. Thus, she'd grudgingly allowed him to assist her, but had stepped away when she received a call from her boss, and had to go into her office to pull some information the woman needed from her computer.

Rick had continued making the salad, which went slow since he could only fully use one hand, eating more feta cheese than he was putting in the salad, when the doorbell rang. He then stopped what he was doing, pulled the money for the pizza from his wallet while he leisurely made his way to the door. Glad that the food had finally arrived, his mouthwatering at the thought, while realizing it was time to take more Tylenol due to his ribs starting to slightly throb again, when he opened the door to find it was Mike Thompson. Anger instantly ignited within Rick as he recalled the lies the man had told on the call they'd had and how he was doing every deceitful thing he could to get Michonne back.

"Is Michonne home?" The man had the nerve to ask, after quickly replacing the shocked look in his eyes with determination.

"What are you doing?" Rick questioned with controlled ire.

"What I'm doing is none of your dam business." Mike retorted.

"It is my business being as I'm answering Michonne's door." Rick fiercely countered. "How many times is she going to have to tell you that your relationship is over before you get? Are you going to keep showing up on her doorstep, offering jobs with your company and…lying to anyone that'll listen about the nature of your relationship forever?"

"You really think that she's right for you, that this, whatever this is, is going to work due to a baby?" The man harshly stated, unknowing twisting the knife in Rick's heart, that still bled due to the loss of his child with Michonne. "Well let me tell you something about Michonne. The last thing she wants, is to be barefoot and pregnant playing house. She thrives off the excitement of her career, the freedom to go and do without the constraints of a family. The last thing she wants is to be tied to a white picket fence and a house full of children."

"You're really more desperate than I thought, pathetic even with your grand lies in a sorry attempt to get Michonne back." Rick brutally charged, after allowing the pain the man's words had stirred, to feed his growing fury instead of break him down. "Do you really think you're going to win this? That your lies will somehow manifest themselves into a reality that includes Michonne?" He condescendingly asked. "I really want to know? How do you expect this to end?"

"Not with you standing where I should be." Mike seethed. "She deserves bet…"

"Mike, what are you doing here?!" Michonne exclaimed as she came upon the scene and instantly slipped her hand in Rick's, which, she could see, further infuriated Mike.

"When you weren't at our daily update meeting today, I got worried. Suzanne wouldn't provide any details, just that you had a personal emergency and wouldn't be in for a couple of days." He explained as he struggled to keep the bitterness out of his tone. "I came by to make sure you're okay."

"Thank you for your concern, but you need to leave." Michonne stated with her own exasperation.

"He doesn't know you Chonne. He'll never make you ha…"

"Goodbye Mike." She strongly interjected, giving him frigid eyes and watched the man hesitate, obviously wanting to say more, before he left in frustration.

As soon as he was gone, Michonne shut the door and turned to Rick. "Are you okay?" She asked with concern, uneasy not by the anger, but the deep pain she saw in his eyes.

"Yeah." He uttered with a slight smile, then took her mouth with loving hunger, his hand gently caressing the lobe of her ear, her soft cheek, as he pulled away and rested his forehead against hers. His heart was aching at the wound left by the miscarriage by the stinging words of Mike Thompson, but soaring at the fact that this beautiful woman loved him, and that no matter their ongoing challenges they'd get through them together.

"What did he say to you?" She breathlessly asked, her body, her heart now smoldering with fire.

"It doesn't matter." He quietly answered, then kissed her forehead. "Let's finished that salad." He said, then slipped his arm around her back and guided a still curious, yet contented Michonne towards the kitchen.