Author's note:
So mywatermelonsmile on tumblr wanted an angst fest of Rick confessing his love and Michonne getting killed by The Gov.
Hey look, I rhymed!
Replies:

crystal2817- Thank you! glad you're enjoying it!

LittleMissEmerald- If you mean that particular drabble, yes there will be a part two.

Cristini-amsamcedesfan- Yay! I aim to please!

llamaliscious- Thank you very much! Hells to the yeah for caryl :)

zombieslayer5- Yay! Thanks!

LisaBoston- Glad ya think so.

Thanks so much for all the wonderful feedback, it's awesome!
Warning for major character death, language, gore and this getting away from me and getting all introspective and whatnot.
Hope you enjoy and please review!

The Color Of Blood

The color of,
blood is all I see on the rocks.
As you sail from me.
My Blood- Ellie Goulding

He had no idea how it happened.
He's gone over it in his head a million times, trying to trace it's origins, pinpoint when it started- but it's useless.
Like trying to remember what happened while you were sleeping. There's just no way of knowing for sure.
It could of been when she'd clung to the fence, wounded, as vulnerable as he'd ever seen her, clutching a basket full of formula.
Might of been when she'd been the only source of understanding when Lori had run through his mind like an old home video- wedding dress and all.
Could just of easily been when she'd offered such easy forgiveness after his near betrayal, or when those bottomless brown eyes stared back at him.
Hell, could've been all of the above- but no matter how it had started, it was undeniably there.
He felt it, in the twinge of his chest whenever a walker began to approach her, in the way his eyes followed her around the prison and out on runs.
Sometime within the last few months, he'd fallen for Michonne.
He'd felt guilty at first, this was hardly the time to concern himself with that, with Lori's death still so raw and Carl growing colder by the day.
But he couldn't help it, somehow, without his noticing, the ruthless but gentle woman with the katana drew him in.
And she didn't seem to be releasing him anytime soon.
It was growing into a distraction really, his attraction to her. He kept staring at her when he was suppose to be listening to Daryl, which tended to irritate his friend to no end. She often caught his gaze, a knowing smirk crossing her full lips, one of the few times she would smile- her already rare grins even less common since they'd lost Andrea. He liked that, making her smile, however unintentionally.
So it was no surprise that it was her smile- bright and precious, there only for him- that broke down his last defenses against her.
He'd made a joke on watch (something teasing about Hershel chasing, hobbling really, after Carl and Beth to make sure they didn't get into any funny business) and she'd laughed, loud and genuine, a snort escaping her. He didn't think, didn't hesitate, just closed his mouth over hers mid-giggle.

She tensed at first, surprised, but slowly began to open her mouth, intertwining her tongue with his, meshing their lips together as the kiss picked up in intensity. A low, throaty moan broke from her and she straddled him, nipping his jaw while his lips clung to her smooth ebony throat, appreciating the sound of his name on her tongue. Neither of them returned to their cells that night.
Or the next, or even the night after that.
They accustomed themselves to the pointed glances and whispers- turned out the Woodburians loved to gossip- ignoring the questions in the others eyes.
They were content, in a few brief days they'd developed a routine, a sense of long lost normalcy.
He can't say why he expected it too last, these things never lasted anymore.

Even the strongest fell eventually.

The gunfire had come out of nowhere, catching them as the walked outside the prison's perimeter, checking for holes in the fence.
Michonne had been speaking, pointing out that they were low on corn when her body shook violently, spasming as her brilliant, coppery blood filled the air.
All he felt was shock at first- Christ it had been months. They'd all thought The Governor was dead by now, or at least holed up elsewhere.
Fuck, he'd thought it was safe, they all had. She had.
Then the shock subsided, replaced by something darker, the truth, the reality of the situation begin to settle in his bones.
His ears were ringing furiously as he turned to see The Governor shooting round after round into her, smiling.
The son of a bitch was fucking smiling.
The closest thing he could liken it to were Morgan's words of how he'd seen red. He'd thought he understood before, when he'd torn through the tombs in a rage after Lori's death. That had been nothing.
His vision, his entire world turned a deep, dark crimson as he dove forward.
He heard nothing but the spattering of bullets and Michonne sputtering for life as he slammed The Governor down, a strangely distant roar reaching his ears as he clawed at him. The Governor tried to fight back but it was useless, Rick pinned him down, driving the heel of his hand into the man's one good eye until he recognized a satisfying pop followed by a wail. Rick never even took his gun out.
Used his hands the whole time, relished the feel of broken bone smashing against his fist, of The Governor's life slipping away because his hands were around the psycho's throat. Phillip's eye-less lids had almost shut for the last time when Rick released him, letting him choke in the fetal position as he stood over him.
Strangulation was too easy, better than the monster on the dirt in front of him deserved.

Everything he saw was red, redder than Michonne's blood soaking into the dirt, when he kicked him in the ribs, forcing the man to curl up.
Then he placed his boot onto The Governor's face- one that had brought so much fear, that seemed so pathetic now- and stomped onto it with every bit of energy he had left. He kept going as he heard teeth breaking and jaw cracking fade into the familiar sound of blood and brain matter squishing underfoot.
He kept going, gore staining his jeans, The Governor reduced to nothing but a mess of bloody gray matter.

"Dad?"

He stopped, looked up to see that the sky had darkened and that Carl stood in front of him, that everyone was watching on the other side of the fence, fear and disgust written plain on their faces. The Governor was dead, almost non-existant now.
But all he saw was red, the coppery red of her blood, his world still crimson.
And he let out a howl because he knew it wasn't going to change.