Rick

Slamming the back doors of the utility van, Rick sighed and swept his eyes across the grounds, ensuring nothing was left behind. Things had been, for the most part, peaceful but the time had come for them to make their departure. The small church was no longer conducive to their needs since they'd regained Beth and an additional person to house and feed in Noah. The night before, Rick contemplated their next steps. It was the right thing to do he rationalized over and over again before coming to the conclusion that they really did not have much choice. There was no way they would be able to make the church work for them. They needed more room and resources to shelter the growing group. Leaving was the only option that made sense, though he dreaded being on the road again. He had to find them a secure place to occupy and fast.

He stared long and hard at the map Abraham handed him before half the group left for the trip to DC that eventually went to shit. They would head North on 85. If memory served him correctly, they should run into some of the smaller towns northeast of the city, which may be cleared of large herds of walkers by now. Perhaps they could find some small community to inhabit.

Making his way back into the sanctuary, Rick scanned the room in search of Michonne. He needed her in his van to help navigate, as she had a superb sense of direction and was very familiar with the greater Atlanta metropolitan area as well as the state of Georgia as a whole. It would also provide him the perfect opportunity to bring up the events that occurred before they had to flee from that ruthless group of men at the house.

He stalked towards the rectory and spotted Michonne, holding on tightly to Judith as if the baby were her own while directing someone unseen. The door was just ajar as he leaned against the door frame, staring at the woman holding his child. She lifted Judith high into the air as the baby grabbed hold of one of her dreadlocks, soaking the end with her drool.

"Ah, ah," Michonne cooed as she gently brought Judith closer to her body and removed the dread from her tiny grasp. "That's not something to eat. That's my crowning glory."

She had a way with Judith that was familiar, instinctual even, like she'd handled children before. He often wondered if she had been a mother before this all happen. Michonne was private, much like himself. He never spoke of Lori or Shane. Not even his parents or brother, ever, so he dared not pry into Michonne's previous life. It wasn't his place. If she wanted him to know she'd tell him.

She caught his eye from her peripheral as she pointed at something and began to make her way across the room to where he stood in the threshold of the door. Judith reached for Rick and he gladly scooped his baby girl into the security of his arms. Beth made an appearance from the closet on the opposite side of the room.

"I found some more socks and onesies in there too Michonne," Beth boasted, displaying pastel baby clothing for Michonne to select from. The scars on her cheek and forehead were healing nicely and it was great to see a smile on the young woman's face. "Oh, hi Rick."

"You two doing some baby clothes shopping," Rick inquired.

"I asked Gabriel if they had a clothing closet yesterday and he directed me here. I thought little bit could use some more things," Michonne replied brushing her hand over Judith's soft blonde hair. "A young lady can never have too many clothing options."

"Thank you," Rick mouthed to Michonne. He began to softly pat his daughter's back as the baby naturally nestled her head under his chin. Rick's eyes narrowed in on Michonne and he motioned for her to draw near.

"You 'bout ready to go," Rick asked. "I wanna get goin' while we have the light."

Michonne nodded in response. "Everything else is packed and in the van. I just couldn't leave without some stuff for Judith."

"Good," he drawled, his eyes scanning over Michonne's face, this time seeking approval for the plans he laid. "We'll make a pit stop in Atlanta for the night. Carol spotted a place not far from the hospital we can hole up in for the night. We'll head further North in the mornin'. Does that sound alright to you?"

"Of course it does, Rick," Michonne smiled as she gathered the last bag of baby clothes she and Beth acquired from the closet. The four made their way out of the rectory and into the main sanctuary where they were greeted by the rest of the group.

"Ya'll ready to go," Daryl voiced as they joined the group.

"Always," Rick answered as they vacated the small church in the woods.


Packed to the hilt with people and supplies, the two vans shredded down the desolate highway. Michonne navigated the first van while Daryl piloted the other. From the moment Michonne started up the van, Rick began to evaluate how he would segue the talk into the conversation. The thing with Michonne was she was as fickle as they come when it came to personal matters, even when there was another party involved, namely Rick. He didn't know exactly what it was about him that made her clam up. She had no problems blabbing all day long with Carl but anytime Rick ever inquired about anything she deemed too personal, she'd evade answering by changing the subject or simply acting as if she didn't hear the question.

When she didn't want to talk about something the woman transformed into a stone wall. Rick tried to gauge her, though she was a tough read. Maybe he could get something out of her now. She seemed in good spirits. They had only been on the road for about ten minutes before Rick decided to strike up a chat.

"I think we'll make it there in about an hour," Rick eased into light chatter.

"Maybe a bit sooner," Michonne offered.

"Yeah," Rick whispered. "Maybe."

"Where is the place Carol told you about," Michonne asked.

"About three blocks from Grady Memorial. A shelter for battered women and children."

"The Hearth Home," Michonne uttered. "I volunteered there a few times. Used to be a really nice facility."

"Hmm," Rick mumbled. "Well, we'll check it out once we get there and set up blockades. Figure out a lookout rotation."

"Whatever you say boss," Michonne smiled at her joke. She'd called him that once before and he wasn't remotely amused. He wasn't a bit more her or anyone else's boss. Hell, no one really wanted to hear him out as of late anyway. If they had, some of the events wouldn't have transpired as they did.

"Ha ha," Rick mocked. "You wanna know what's really funny?"

"What," Michonne inquired turning her attention to him quickly before placing her eyes back on the road.

"You not wanting to talk about the night you found Carl and me at that house."

Michonne grinned. "Pull out your watch?"

"What," Rick responded, his brow furrowing in confusion as he reached in his pocket to retrieve the watch.

"We've been in this van for seventeen minutes," Michonne noted, staring at the hands of the watch. "I thought you'd at least wait a good thirty minutes before sparking up that conversation. Besides, it's not so private. We're still in close quarters. The front row of seats will hear everything we say."

"Would you stop doin' that," Rick pleaded with her softly as he shook his head. He turned to look out the passenger's window, his chin propped up by his hand as his elbow rested on the window's edge.

He glanced in her direction quickly before allowing the quiet to consume him and his thoughts. Her facial expression went from delighted to downcast in an instant. He rolled his eyes and returned his icy glare through the window of blurred landscape. He tried everything he could to get her to acknowledge him, to relate and support her but all of his efforts seemed pointless as she practically pushed him aside. After all they'd been through at the prison, after she found him and Carl, after the slaughter of the Termites and the rescue of Beth there was still something holding her back from him.

Agitation ran its course throughout Rick's body. Unable to contain his irritation, he suddenly unbuckled his seatbelt and made his way to the back.

"Rick," Michonne called aloud but he ignored her protest. If she wasn't willing to hear him out in that moment, he was not going to be willing to hear her excuses. He approached Carl and asked him to go up front.

"Dad," Carl asked as Rick slipped into the seat and took Judith from Tyreese. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Rick lied, not making eye contact with Carl. "Just thought you and 'Chonne might wanna spend some time together during the drive."

He raised Judith above his face and wiggled her from side to side. She reached for his beard as giggles erupted from her mouth and slobber began to fall. Babies were the perfect distraction he thought as he watched his son make his way to the front of the van. He'd try anything to get his mind off of Michonne right now but who was he kidding really? He glanced at the rearview mirror just as she did and their eyes linked before they both pulled away.


Michonne (Flashback)

Though darkness consumed the house, Michonne found her heart overflowing like sunshine. She'd found them. She was actually face to face with Rick and Carl Grimes after the tumultuous events leading to the fall of the prison and Hershel's death. Just when she was giving up, just as hope began its descent, she happened upon them. Her belief in coincidence dissolved the moment she looked through the sidelight at the front door of that house and saw her guys sitting together, chatting and smiling. It warmed her heart as she accepted the free falling tears. Maybe miracles were real. Maybe there was some grand purpose to this otherwise devastating existence.

Light breathing escaped from Carl's mouth as he rolled over onto his back on the bed, an Incredible Hulk comic spread across his chest. The display brought a smile to Michonne's face. She replaced the comic with the quilt on the bed and kissed the teenager on the forehead. He would have died if she did that while he was awake, so she enjoyed secretly presenting her affection for the young man while he slumbered. Quietly escaping the bedroom where Carl slept, she fastened the door behind her and made her way down the hall in pursuit of a place to lay her weary body. After a few days on the road, it was a glorious welcome to sleep in an actual bed.

Tiptoeing towards the larger bedroom, she gasped as another door flung open before her, forcing her to jump back and plan her attack. Her chest heaved and her heartbeat accelerated as Rick emerged.

"You alright," Rick questioned as he limped towards Michonne. Relief came over Michonne as her breathing returned to normal.

"I should be asking you if you're alright," Michonne returned, moving in a little closer. Her hands instinctively made their way to his bruised and swollen face.

He shied away slightly but returned his gaze to her as her fingertips graced his broken and weathered flesh.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Rick professed.

"Liar," she called him out. "Carl said you were unconscious the first day you two were here."

Michonne reached into her pocket and removed a small package.

"Needle and thread," she announced as she gestured towards the bedroom. "Hershel gave it to me the first time I went looking for The Governor."

She made her way past Rick and entered the room on the left. He followed, wincing as he made his way to sit on the edge of the bed. Removing a box of matches from the nightstand, he lit three candles, lighting the shadowy room.

Michonne made her way down to her knees before him and began to suture the small but deep cuts on the bridge of his nose and under his left eye. She noticed that his face was slightly puffy, like it was once very swollen. He flinched as the needle pierced his skin. Michonne tried to be as gentle as she could while starting a conversation to keep his attention from her task.

"My mother was a nurse," she confessed. "Wanted me or my sister to follow in her footsteps but I was never good with dealing with sick people. Always made my stomach cringe to see people in pain and suffering. My mother knew pretty early on that wasn't for me. So my sister ended up her little protégé."

She laughed, "Funny how things change."

"Yeah," he muttered as she tied off the thread.

"I learned a few things from my mom. Like bandaging, basic clean up of wounds and how to deal with swelling." She removed an alcohol swab from the packaging and wiped away the remaining blood and grime from around his wounds. "I played some contact sports in high school and college. Didn't have much choice but learn how to deal with those things."

"There," she said tidying up her mess of loose threads and returned the needle back into its case. "Your ribs… they're bruised?"

Rick only nodded in response, his gaze remained on her face as Michonne aided him in lying down.

"You need to try to stay as still as possible. Stay on your back," she commanded as she drew the blanket over his body. She lightly tapped his shoulder before she turned to exit. "I'll wrap your ribs in the morning."

Before she took a step, Rick reached, his large hand easily wrapped completely around her tiny wrist.

"Stay," Rick whispered. "There's enough room in this bed for the both of us and I – I just don't think we should be alone. I don't want to be alone."

She turned and studied the man's face in the dim light as the candles burned down. The man who was a pillar of strength. The man who had provided for them. The man who tried to save and protect his people. The man who was destined to lead. She trusted Rick with her life and would follow his lead until the day came that she had to depart from it. Nodding in response, she made her way to the other side of the bed and lay beside him. A long spell of silence ensued between the two but it wasn't strange. There was comfort and there was peace. Rick snaked his bandaged hand towards Michonne's and she gladly clutched it.

"Thank you," Rick broke the silence. "For saving me from him."

"It's what we do," Michonne returned.

Rick attempted to turn towards her but she lightly pushed him down and shook her head. "You should stay on your back."

She turned on her side to face him and they stared at each other for a long while.

"I never really apologized to you," Rick started again. He had never been this talkative. Maybe losing everything put things into perspective for him.

"You can't afford to appear weak in front of the group," Michonne replied. "I understand that. I accept it and I know that you were sorry. Your actions from the point I returned after Merle took me implied that you were. Sometimes words aren't needed."

His breathing became labored as she spoke. She wasn't sure if what she said bothered him or if he was relieved to hear her speak those words. Without notice Rick swiftly came on his side and drew Michonne's face towards his, his hand splayed behind her head. His lips swept softly, gently across hers before he pulled away, his eyes wide, as he surprised himself. Michonne, a bit shocked and flushed from the warmth of the kiss radiated through her body, remained still.

Rick hesitated, "I – Michonne. I'm sorry. I shouldn't ha-"

She pressed him back down into the mattress and her mouth consumed his. She didn't even mind the fact that his beard scratched and irritated her skin. As their lips parted, Rick's teeth lightly held onto Michonne's bottom lip. She gazed into the whites of his eyes, unable to make out the color but she knew they had turned that deep shade of blue, like cobalt.

"Don't be," she retorted as her hands brushed through his thick curly hair. Cozying up into the crook of Rick's arm, Michonne pulled the blanket over her body and placed her hand on Rick's chest, falling asleep to the beating of his heart.


Michonne

He clenched his jaw and began to withdraw from her. That was his typical response to being pissed and at the moment he was over her inability to open up to him. She thought by not readily speaking about what happened it somehow kept Rick from appearing weak. He needed to be strong. He needed to appear focused. Or maybe she was keeping herself from appearing weak. She was never one for gossip or being the center of some melodramatic episode, so to ensure that never occurred she remained quiet.

As they parked the vans and began to unload their things, her eyes met those of Rick who was at it again, staring in her direction. She mouthed to him, "Talk tonight," and he responded with a nod of his own.

Carl approached her and grabbed a backpack and two bags from the ground. "Is everything okay with you and my dad?"

"We're fine Carl," Michonne answered as she grabbed a backpack and box of canned goods.

They made their way around the van and started down the street towards the shelter when Michonne stopped in her tracks, the box of canned goods slipping from her grasp. Her eyes glued to the side of a high rise building, nearly dilapidated from the bombing of the city just after the turn. It was practically a ruin. Carl came to her side and began to help her pick up the cans.

"Why are you staring at that building," Carl inquired as he picked up the last can and placed it in the box. "Does that place mean something to you?"

"Carl," Michonne shook her head. "Just drop it."

"Did you work there? Did you live there," he relentlessly questioned. His persistence was something she both loathed and appreciated. He was unyielding and she knew she wouldn't get away with not saying anything to him so it was best to stop his pestering by answering his questions.

"I lived there, on the eighth floor," Michonne replied. "I forgot how close the shelter was to my condo. It seems like centuries have passed since all this began."

"I'm sorry Mich," Carl apologized. "I didn't know."

"It's alright," she replied. "My past isn't going to let me forget without dealing with everything. It's my curse for not being there for Andr-"

"That wasn't your fault," Carl cut in sharply. "That was not your fault."

He picked his bags back up and started down the street without her. "We better catch up with everyone before they get worried."

Michonne lifted the heavy box and trailed behind Carl towards the shelter, trying her best not to be consumed with what happened. What was done was done and there was nothing she could do about the past now.


Rick

Calloused and coarse, Rick's hands tossed the last remnants of what once was a walker into the blazing fire Tyreese created in the courtyard. Flecks of fire dispersed into the chilling air as he backed away towards the door. He wiped the sweat from his brow and nodded as Daryl approached.

"You can put it out," Rick directed as he made his way inside. "That was the last of 'em."

A pat on the back from Daryl left Rick feeling a sense of accomplishment and control despite the chaos. They came in and cleared out a small assembly of dormant walkers that littered one of the main corridors leading to the bedrooms. His thoughts fled from the recent clean up to Michonne. She pissed him off with her seemingly indifference to what had transpired between them but he couldn't stay mad. She had to have her reasons for not wanting to discuss it. He'd respect her wishes for the time being but they would talk sooner rather than later.

Turning the corner to his assigned bedroom, he found a pensive Michonne, pacing the length of the bedroom. He inclined his lean body against the door frame, waiting for her to notice him there. She turned to face him and the look she gave him set his entire body ablaze. She was ready to talk. Approaching him, she grabbed his hand and led him to the bed and they both sat down. His eyes roamed over her face in the diminishing light. Every part of her caused a sense of euphoria to erupt within him. Her dark eyes, her smooth skin, her strength, her wisdom, even her few flaws, all elated his very soul.

"I know this has been on your mind for a while and I want to just get this all out in the open," she started, disconnecting her gaze from his, though he continued to stare at her. "Let me first say that I have no regrets."

Her gaze returned and her face softened even more. "I just know that we had a lot to do to find everyone and then once we regrouped they were going to look to you to lead them Rick and I didn't want to be a distraction. I can take care of myself. Did for many, many months before I found Andrea. You don't have to worry about me. I don't want you to worry about me. You have enough to concern yourself with Carl and now that we have Judith back…" her voice trailed off and her eyes appeared distant.

"Michonne," Rick whispered.

"I'm here for you Rick. You've helped me in more ways than you will ever know. Brought me back from a very deep and dark place. I will forever be grateful for that. And I'm still working some things out but you're gonna have to let me do that on my own and in my own time."

"But I want more from you than that," he interjected. "That kiss wasn't just a kiss. It wasn't spontaneous and it meant something to me. I'd been wanting to do that for a long time. I need you by my side and I am going to worry about you because I care about you. What you did for me and what you've been doing for Carl… there is no way for me to repay you for that except for my loyalty to you."

He grabbed her hand and held it in his. "I need you by my side. I don't wanna go this alone. And I know that's a lot to ask of you but you said you were done taking breaks. I need you here with me. And I want to know you. The real you. Not the person this world made."

"Rick," Michonne contented. "I can't give you everything right this second but I'm willing to do it bit by bit. On my terms. If you can accept that…"

He scratched his beard and stared into the darkened room, his eyes accommodating to the change in lighting. Little bits of her were better than none of her he thought. Maybe if he opened up a little more about Lori and Shane, she'd be willing to share more of herself with him. Talking about them was tough but he knew sooner or later he would have to. It was the only way to recover from the betrayal; to lay it out plainly to someone. Maybe she could relate. Maybe she would understand. In the meantime he'd offer her himself and accept her terms.

"I'm alright with that," he finally replied.

"Ahem," a voice broke into the conversation. It was Noah toting Judith. He held her like she was a box and at arm's length. "I think she needs changing."

"Where's Carl," Rick questioned standing up to take his baby girl from the hands of the young man. "He was watching her."

"Uh, Carl left about thirty minutes ago. Said he was coming to talk to you. Beth and I have been with Judith. Beth didn't know where the diapers were so I was coming here to see if Carl was stil-"

"Wait," Rick felt his blood pressure begin to rise. "Carl hasn't been down here."

Noah's eyes grew wide and he shrugged his shoulders, indicating he had no further knowledge of Carl's whereabouts.

Turning his head back and forth between the young man and Michonne Rick belted, "Then where the hell is he?"


A/N: Sorry for the extended amount of time that has lapsed between this update and the last. This time of year just gets too busy but I'm really going to try to update this regularly. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and feedback, as always, is welcome.

To the readers who reviewed anonymously or without logging in -

KyannaLashae - I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far. I adore Richonne too... obviously! Thanks so much for reading and leaving a review! I appreciate it! :)

Kam - Yeah, Rick's not one to back down from anything really. He'll push the envelope with Michonne throughout this story. Thanks so much for reading and the review! It is most appreciated! :)

Alex311 - You're awesome for such a nice review. I felt like you were probably smiling while reviewing and that brings me much joy. I'm thrilled that you are enjoying the story and my depiction of our beloved ship. Again, many thanks for your kind words! :)