A/N: Had to change the rating on this story, so... fair warning - I'm not saying for sure, but somebody miiiight get laid in this chapter, haha. Thank you so much for your feedback on the last one. Going off into unchartered territory, I really don't know what kinda mess I'm getting us into. But I'm excited, I hope you are too! And I'm not sure why this chapter is so long, but hey, enjoy! -Ash

7: try me

The standoff had turned to a conference, with Rick and Gareth sitting at a table in an empty room, staring at one another. Rick had Michonne, Carl and Glenn at his side, while Gareth had Mary, a young man named Sam, and a young lady, Denise, sitting beside him.

Rick was visibly frustrated. His eyes stayed narrowed on Gareth, along with his gun, but he had been done with the whole ordeal from the moment Bob was killed. He'd made up his mind that Gareth had to die - it was simply a matter of when. This conversation he'd agreed to was a formality and a means to get his people out of the line of fire.

"Okay. I guess I'll start it off," Gareth announced, almost cheerfully, noting Rick's silence. His hand had since been bandaged and he kept it on the table as he looked at Rick. "I'm sorry I killed your man."

Rick continued to stare at him eerily.

"And here's where you say, 'Gareth, I'm sorry for shooting a hole into your hand.'"

No response. His companions didn't say anything either.

"Rick, I thought you wanted to talk."

Rick leaned in, his icy stare going through the man in front of him. "I wanna talk about why you locked my friends in a hot boxcar and starved them nearly to death. And that's just the tip of the iceberg."

"That's just how we do things," he shrugged offhandedly.

"Yeah, I see how you do things. You killed your own man out there today."

"Well technically, you did that."

"Technically, you did."

"Technically-."

Rick was rolling his eyes before he could complete his sentence. "I'm not gonna sit here and argue semantics with you. What do I do to get my people out of here safely?"

"We both know what happens if I let you walk out those doors."

"We move on with our lives and you go on torturing other clueless people," he suggested.

Gareth laughed, almost maliciously, but rejected the notion. "Nice try." If these people didn't bring back an army to kill them, the least they would do is stop others from coming, and he couldn't have that. "What else you got?"

"Why do you want us here?" Carl had to know. He hadn't said more than a word since they arrived at Terminus, but he had observed everything. He didn't understand the purpose in all their shenanigans. "We obviously don't like you, and you don't like us. What's the point?"

"You wouldn't understand, kid."

"Try me."

"You might wanna control this one," Gareth directed to Rick.

Rick smirked at his son, glad that he wasn't even remotely scared of these assholes. "I think he asked you a question."

"I don't answer to children."

"Good thing I'm not a child then, isn't it," Carl retorted coldly.

"Rick…"

"You're the one that proposed this talk," Rick reminded him. "You don't like my suggestion, you tell us what you want."

"I want us to come to an understanding."

"You want me to understand that we can't leave here? That's not gonna happen."

"We have plenty of space for you. Rooms, clothes, food. We can make this work."

"I don't trust you as far as I could throw you, Gareth."

"I know," he nodded. "I know. I get it. But what other option do you have?"

Rick considered this, wondering if this truly was the only option he had. He could take the room and board for a while, at least, until he could concoct a plan to escape. But he'd never be able to sleep inside these walls, not after what he'd seen. It would've been like taking refuge at Woodbury. "My son's right. Why would you want us here?"

"Your group is obviously very smart, very capable. I'd be an idiot to not want you on my side in this whole thing."

"What 'whole thing' is that?" Michonne frowned.

"It's us against the world now. I have a fundamental understanding of that, above all else, and I know that you and your group do too," he looked her in the eye as he spoke. "We clearly started off on the wrong foot. I regret that..."

"That's an understatement," Carl mumbled in annoyance.

"But I see now that you're not to be trifled with. And you and your people would only make this place stronger."

"Don't patronize me," Rick countered angrily.

"I'm not, I swear," he looked back at Rick genuinely. "There's a real threat out there. We shouldn't needlessly be one to each other."

Glenn had been sitting quietly in observance throughout the whole discussion. He felt too weak to truly focus on all the words being thrown around, but his mind was spinning as he thought through what kind of options they did have. "What if there was a way to get rid of the threat?" he eventually interjected.

Rick and Michonne looked at him curiously, while Gareth frowned. "What?"

"The walkers, I mean. What if someone had a cure to this virus? What if one of us had the tools to save the entire world?"

"Okay, well while we're talking pipe dreams, what if I were Brad Pitt?"

"I'm serious," Glenn glared at Gareth. "The guy out there with the mullet? His name's Eugene and he's a scientist. He was headed to Washington, D.C. to get started with working on the cure for this thing."

The entire room was frowning now, trying to gauge whether Glenn could possibly be serious.

"Why did you stop here then?" Mary finally spoke.

"Because we lost the tank we were in, and decided to come here to check for any of our people before we tried to get back on the road. We were even gonna see if anyone here wanted to join us on our mission."

Rick wasn't sure whether he was serious or bullshitting, so he kept his mouth shut.

Gareth already seemed extremely interested in the prospect. "You for real?"

"I swear on everything," Glenn held up his hand. "You let us go to Washington, you could be saving all of mankind."

Gareth pulled his walkie-talkie to his lips, noting that Rick pulled his gun closer into view as he did, but he continued to speak. "Steven, could you bring the mullet guy in here?"

None of them knew what to think, what to say in the current moment, so they stayed silent. Rick could only imagine Glenn was full of it, but there seemed to be a possibility that it would get them out of this. Meanwhile, Gareth thought of what it meant to have a hand in curing this thing.

Within a few seconds, Eugene appeared, dazed and confused, staring at the only person in the room he knew. "Hello," he greeted them.

"Eugene?" Gareth answered.

Eugene nodded nervously.

"Sit."

He did as told, making sure to sit on the side of the table with Glenn and the guy that seemed to be leading them now. "What can I do for you?"

"Glenn says you know how to cure this thing. That true?"

"It is," he drawled apprehensively. "We were on our way to Washington when our tank was shot to hell and we got sidetracked. The big guy out there and the little Latina? They've been escorting me since I left Texas."

"What's in Washington? Why can't you do it here?"

"There are people there waiting for me, people I was doing research with before all communication went to shit. We left Houston over three weeks ago; the last satellite radio I had died about two days before we got here."

"Shit," Gareth sat back in his seat, looking over to Mary to see what she thought. She looked to be just as intrigued by the notion as he was. "So how do you get to Washington without your tank?"

"Well, if we ever get out of here, I suppose we find a car and hope for the best."

"What about food, water, gas…" Mary wondered.

"Honestly, we were hoping we might find that here," Glenn admitted. "But we were gonna go, we would've figured it out, either way."

Gareth went silent again, contemplating whether this was a workable plan, whether he could trust them, whether any of this was even true. It sounded legit, given the fact that Glenn and Eugene had nearly the same story, but he didn't know how he could be sure.

"How many people do you need for this mission?"

Eugene shrugged. "It's hard to say. We started with eleven, but our group's gotten down to as little as three."

"Well you can only fit five people in a typical car. You can take the big guy, you can take Glenn. And you can take Daryl and Michonne."

"No fucking way," Rick interjected forcefully. Gareth was trying to split up his family, split up Glenn and Maggie too. There was no way in hell he was going to allow that. "Either we all go, or none of us do."

"You sure that's how you wanna play this, Rick?"

"I'm sure you're not splittin' us up. Are you insane?"

"I thought we already established that I am."

"Well then come with us," Rick offered. "You don't trust us, we don't trust you, let's all go on the road together."

"That sounds like the perfect way to get myself killed."

"You can bring your people to protect you."

"Rick, it's not gonna happen."

"Why's that? Too crazy for your tastes?"

Gareth knew Rick was instigating, but he found himself wanting to take him up on the offer. It would certainly be dangerous to bring any of his people out on the road with such a hothead, but they would forever be stuck in a standstill if they didn't come to a compromise soon.

"All right."

Rick's side of the table looked to Gareth in surprise, almost in disbelief that he finally agreed to something that would allow them out of there. "We have a deal?"

"We do," Gareth nodded. "At dawn, we ride," he declared jokingly. No one responded, but looked at him as if he were stupid. He quickly sobered up and rearranged his statement. "We'll leave first thing in the morning."

The deal between the Termites and Rick's group resulted in the survivors being afforded real room and board for the night. Gareth gave them full use of the kitchen to prepare their own food, at Rick's insistence, and their own wing of their housing facility, mainly because he didn't trust Rick not to kill him in the middle of the night.

Dinner had been a somewhat odd experience. Rick was finally able to meet the new people that had apparently joined his crew - Abraham, Eugene, Rosita, and Tara. Glenn had explained how he found them on the road, looking for Maggie, but Rick was very clear that Tara had been a part of The Governor's group that attacked the prison. But he also remembered that she appeared scared shitless at the time, and Glenn insisted that she'd helped save his life, so he wasn't going to use that moment to bring it up. Still, he was just as wary of her as he was the Termites. The other three seemed fine, if not a bit weird, and they willingly stood beside him in this, so he would give them a chance.

Beyond that, they ate with minimal conversation. They were in mourning over the loss of their friend Bob, but they also couldn't be sure of how this plan would pan out, being on the road with Gareth and his people. It was certainly better than being trapped at Terminus, but it was still a dangerous proposition.

"I want you all to try and get a good night's sleep," Rick announced quietly to his crew before they dispersed for the evening. "I know you've gotta be tired. But I need you alert, I need you focused out there on the road." He secretly hoped they would be able to find somewhere to rest for a few days once they got away from that place, but his main focus was indeed getting out of Terminus. "Michonne and I inspected all the rooms, everything appears to be fine, but if you see anything out of the ordinary – anything," he emphasized, "you let me know."

The group nodded in unison, but Abraham had a question. "We got anybody takin' watch?"

"I'm gonna handle that for the night. You guys need your rest."

"Rick, we can take turns," Maggie suggested. "A couple hours for each of us won't kill us."

He'd considered it, but he hated asking them to do anything more after all they'd been through. "I can't ask you to do that."

"That's exactly what you ask of us," Abraham countered proudly. "We're a group now. We're in this together, we split the work evenly."

"Y'all haven't eaten in days-"

"It's not an option for me, sir."

Rick could already tell he and Abraham were gonna butt heads, but so long as it stayed over minor things like this, he could stomach it. If they wanted to work, he wasn't going to argue with them. "That what you all want?" Everyone agreed that they would rather take watch in shifts than have him carry the load. "All right," he was almost grinning, proud of his group and the responsibility they took for themselves. "I'll give you your assignments after dinner."

The evening had turned to night and the group was getting situated in what they called their dormitory, given how much they resembled college living quarters. Each room contained two cots, blankets, pillows, toiletries, a change of clothing, and their own half bathrooms. Showers were located at the end of a long hallway, where they were even treated to some lukewarm water and even some waterproof radios. The creature comforts reminded them a lot of the prison.

As they got settled, Rick naturally assumed that he would be sharing his room with Carl, but was surprised when his son asked if he could bunk with Daryl.

"Nobody should be on their own tonight," Carl was telling him. With Eugene staying with Abraham and Rosita, the numbers were uneven otherwise. "Plus, you and Michonne should have your own room."

Rick didn't like the idea of his son being away from him in this strange place, but Carl was right – he didn't want any of them bunking alone. And Daryl would look after him just as well as he or Michonne would. "All right," he relented. His kid was growing up so fast, it was almost painful to see. "You follow his lead, you hear me?"

"I know," Carl nodded. "We're taking first watch, so I'll be right outside your door for the first few hours."

Rick didn't know if that was supposed to make him feel better, but he knew he couldn't treat his son like a kid forever, so he let it go. "Go on, take your shower," he smiled softly. "Be careful."

"I will, Dad."

Back inside his quarters, he found Michonne, who had just returned from her own shower, dressed adorably in a t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts that she was pulling the tags off of as he walked in.

"Sucks that they're such assholes. This would be a pretty nice play to stay," she joked.

"It does feel good to be clean," he agreed with a smile, enjoying how beautiful his girlfriend looked in the small light of the room. She was glowing.

"Come sit," she patted the spot next to her on one of their beds. He looked positively exhausted and she wanted nothing more than to massage him to sleep.

"I gotta go do rounds, make sure everyone's okay."

"You gotta come over here and sit with me," she countered.

"I can't-."

"Rick, everyone's fine. You said they needed rest, let them rest."

"I don't think Sasha's fine…"

"She's with Maggie. She's been with Maggie. There's nothing you can say that she hasn't heard from her already," she insisted gently. "You can't fix everything, babe."

He nodded to himself. He knew that was true, but it didn't mean he wasn't going to try. He couldn't handle the feeling of being unhelpful, being idle – it was why he'd stepped up as leader in the first place. It was all he knew.

He did finally do as told and took a seat with Michonne, but he couldn't see himself resting anytime soon. So many things were on his mind. "You think they're listening in on us?"

"Probably," she smirked tiredly. She jokingly waved to the lamp in the corner, as if it were a camera - for all she knew, it really was one. "Hi, Gareth!"

"That's not funny," he chuckled.

"Funny to me," she shrugged, resting her head on his shoulder. "It's quiet here," she noticed. "Not like the prison."

"The prison got quiet sometimes. Late at night."

"Yeah, very late. When we used to sneak to the tombs," she remembered fondly.

"Those were some good nights," he grinned. He fell in love with her in those tombs. "I really miss that place."

"Hey. We'll find a new place," she assured him softly. "Maybe it's in Washington."

He scoffed at the thought, but he didn't want to sound like an asshole, so he made an attempt at agreeing. "Maybe so…"

"You never sound convincing when you say that, you know."

"Probably because I'm never convinced." He popped up from his seat suddenly, headed into the bathroom to brush his teeth before bed. He was surprised when she followed after him. "I was gonna come back," he chuckled.

"I know." She wrapped her hands around his waist and leaned into his back, reveling in being close to him again after such a turbulent couple of days.

He closed his eyes and did the same, loving the feel of her embrace. He'd been so immersed in such violence the past few days, the tenderness was more than welcome. He held onto her hand that rested at his waist. "I love you," he whispered.

"Well I'm your wife, apparently, so you better."

"You caught that, huh?" He turned to face her, glad that she had a smile on her face. He knew there was a big chance that would've put her off, but it came out of his mouth before he knew what he was saying.

"Yeah, I caught that," she nodded teasingly. "That escalated quickly."

"It did, didn't it?" He turned to spit in the sink and then faced her again, planting a quick kiss on her nose.

His eyes bored into hers for more than a few seconds and she wondered what he was thinking. He was always thinking, she knew, but she wanted to try and relax him for a moment. And maybe it was her raging hormones, but everything she'd seen from Rick in the prior two days had turned her on beyond belief. She kissed at his neck, pulling at the hem of his shirt as she tasted him.

Her kisses felt so good, but he knew exactly where this was headed. "You know they're probably watching us," he smiled regretfully.

"Then let's give 'em a show." She pulled her shirt over her head, her perky breasts falling into view for Rick's pleasure, and gave him a smirk.

He smiled widely at the sight. They had already gotten plumper in the few weeks she'd been pregnant. "Really?"

She loved that no matter how many times he'd seen it, he always reacted to her body as if it was the 8th Wonder of the World. "You're a mess," she grinned.

He hoisted her onto the counter, hungrily taking one of her breasts into his mouth while he fondled the other softly. Her hands tangled themselves in his hair while her legs wrapped around his slim waist. She could feel him slowly hardening against her and she smiled at the sensation. There were few things that felt better to her than a hard Rick Grimes.

"Kiss me," she quietly demanded. She missed the feel of his lips on hers. It had only been a couple of days, but she had gotten used to him doing it constantly while they were on the road. He obliged with a slow, passionate kiss, covering her lips with his before fervently filling her mouth with his tongue. She could only respond with a soft moan into him.

Rick's hands finally left her breasts to pull at her shorts, playfully squeezing at her ass as he did so. He loved the feel of it in his hands. Her panties were drying on a rack a few feet away, so he knew there was nothing else separating him from her awaiting pussy. His kisses moved down her torso, tonguing her bikini line and eventually found her center, licking lightly at her clit and lapping at the surrounding wetness. He smiled at the taste, her being sweeter than he remembered. "Mmm," he groaned into her. The vibration of his voice, along with the tickle of his beard between her thighs drove her insane.

"Ohh fuck, come back up here," she instructed in a whimper, knowing she'd be done for the night if he didn't stop soon.

Hesitantly, he stopped licking and sucking at her lips down there and retuned to the ones on her face, enjoying those just as much. "You're bossy tonight," he smiled into her mouth.

Michonne responded by pulling off his shirt and kissing across his torso while his hands gravitated back to her behind. She wrapped her legs around him once again, and started to grind against him, knowing he wouldn't be able to wait much longer. She slowly lowered his sweats with her feet and grinned happily when his dick came into view. "There it is."

"You're silly," he chuckled, kissing at her collarbone.

"I'm horny," she retorted in a hushed tone. She didn't wait for him, but took him into her hand, inserting his cock exactly where she wanted it. They both groaned loudly at the sensation. She felt as though she had gotten tighter or he'd gotten bigger since the last time they fucked, but it was an even better sensation than she remembered.

Rick obviously felt the same because he took a moment to enjoy the hot, wet tautness before he began to thrust into her. His stroke was fluid, it was rhythmic; there was a cadence to it that Michonne countered with moving in figure eights around his dick. It was the most tantalizing thing either of them had ever experienced. It only reminded her of how perfect they were together.

"Yes," she was gasping repeatedly, grasping at the hair at the nape of his neck. She wanted the moment to never end.

The sound of her moans in his ear, the feel of her tits bouncing against his chest, it was pushing him over the edge. He was pounding into her hard now, even the mirror behind them had begun to shake in excitement. He was gonna be done for soon and he knew it. "Come for me, baby," he whispered.

She was panting, trying to hold off for as long as she could, trying to make the moment last, but his words, in that sexy low whisper, it was over for her. There was an eruption in her core as he brought her to climax. "Yes," she moaned loudly against him. "I fucking love you."

He couldn't help but smile at her words before coming himself. He kissed her sloppily as his thrusts came to a slow halt and he emptied into her fully. "Goddamn," he grinned in satisfaction, giving her one last kiss before he pulled out to wipe himself.

Michonne leaned back against the mirror tiredly, trying to regain her composure, along with the feeling in her legs. "Goddamn is right," she sighed. She couldn't believe how good he made her feel, even with all the disaster surrounding them. She watched as he pulled his pants back on, and he looked so sexy in just his sweats, she wasn't sure she would get through the night without wanting seconds. "Hey," she called out to him.

He moved so that he was back in front of her, standing between her legs yet again. "Hey."

He had gone right back to being preoccupied, she noticed. "You okay?"

He nodded, gazing into her eyes almost sadly.

This was the price she paid for falling in love with the leader, she guessed. She was used to knowing what was on his mind, but these days, there was so much, it was hard for her to sort through it all. She couldn't read him the way she was used to doing. "Don't take this all on alone," she pleaded. "I'm in this with you. We all are."

"I know," he nodded, trying to offer a smile. Instead, he gave her his shirt to throw on over her naked torso. "I'm just thinkin'."

"Tell me something I don't know," she smirked. She held his hands, willing him to say whatever it was that was obviously on his mind.

After a few seconds of thought, he finally obliged. "You know I'd do anything to protect you and Carl, right?"

"You'd do anything to protect all of us," she countered with a knowing, comforting smile. "That's why they follow you."

"Yeah..." he sighed heavily. "I hope they're ready to follow me down a dark road." Their entwined hands rested on her thighs as he thought through this impending trip. He just couldn't see a way around it. Gareth and his group were a liability.

"What do you mean?" she frowned.

Not wanting to risk being heard any further, he leaned in to Michonne as closely as he could, whispering so quietly into her ear, it was almost silent. "We're gonna have to kill these people."

She pulled back, still frowning as she looked him in the eye. She gave his hand a squeeze and her expression softened as she began to nod. "Then that's what we'll do."