She found him sitting on their couch in the living room, his elbows resting against his knees with his right hand twisting his wedding ring as he gazed down. She had come downstairs for a "midnight" snack. Apparently midnight meant 3am but a snack wasn't really what she wanted anyway. She hadn't yet adjusted back to her former sleep schedule since Carl returned home from the infirmary house a week ago and was filling time. Looks like he was struggling with the same thing.
Although her travel downstairs fairly noisy Rick hadn't indicated that he realized she was present. He must be in really deep thought, she noted. They've all become conditioned to be on edge in adapting to life in an walker apocalypse so him not noticing her was odd. She studied his form for a moment, taking in his slightly shrunken frame. Still strong and muscular but the difference in build compared to a couple of months ago reflected the dwindling food supply in Alexandria and their stress from the last few weeks.
Frown lines appeared on her normally smooth, calm face. She hesitated walking over to him feeling a strong desire to stroke his hair and back. Why am I uncomfortable? For a long time she and Rick never touched even when it should be expected such as the time when she found them after the prison was destroyed and they were potentially never to find each other again separated. Back then, she hugged Carl tightly but she and Rick only nodded at each other. It took a long time to increase their incremental progression of physical contact to it's current level but now it is somewhat second nature. So why does she feel discomfited with the idea of being comforting now?
"Hey," she walked over and sat next to him on the couch. Rick looked up quickly and shook his head as if to clear away old thoughts.
"Can't sleep either, huh?" he sighs.
"Not really. I have to get up early to go out with Glenn on a food run so I should get some sleep but it's not happening"
Rick gave her a confused look. "Why you? Why are you going on a run? Why don't I know about this?", he said, a little too aggressively.
"I wanted to take turns helping out, I couldn't do much during the rebuild and we need food. Don't you review the run schedule Maggie's been creating?" Maggie had taken over run scheduling responsibilities for Rick while he watched over his son.
"No," he took a deep, exasperated breath, "I haven't been. How long is the run scheduled?"
"It's a short run; we're going to Maplewood. Darryl and Aaron passed through there before during their last recruitment trip and noticed a few small restaurants that didn't look picked over for whatever reason. It's only 200 miles away so we should return the next day in the afternoon"
Rick was quiet for a moment, contemplating what she was saying. He looked up at her, his blue eyes soaking in her soft glowing skin, her warm, tired, eyes, and her slight strong frame and felt fear. But she's so tired, she could get hurt. She's not ready. "Maybe you should go next time. You need to sleep."
"I'm fine, Rick. I'll be fine"
"You aren't fine for a long run, Michonne. You're exhausted, stressed, and you haven't eaten"
"That was every day I was on the road both with you all and by myself. I'll be fine."
"Yes but that was out of necessity, you don't HAVE to put yourself in danger like that anymore. We have more people now. You don't have to do this."
"I know, but I have a choice and I choose to do this. I'm not asking for permission"
Rick wanted to fight her on this, feeling angered and deeply motivated in discouraging her but he knows that will never work. If her mind is made up like this, he can't change her mind even if he was more rested. Frustrated and clenching his jaw, Rick takes a deep breath to calm himself and nods.
"What were you thinking about before?", she asked wanting to change the subject.
Rick hesitated, "Jessie".
Ah, Jessie. Michonne wasn't sure what to say. They never spoke about her prior to her death and she was very unclear about the type of relationship they had up until then. She had the impression there was some sort of romance there but was it serious? She doubted it because he hadn't told her but then when they first got there, he had been keeping a lot of secrets. Regardless she assumed he must be in some sort of mourning.
"You miss her" she said more as a statement than a question.
"Yes, not exactly. . . . I don't know", Rick stammered out. "I really didn't know her" he confessed. "She was just very" he paused trying to find the correct description. "She was normal. She felt like a home I remembered from what seems like a lifetime ago. My old world. She- ", he struggled with what he wanted to say and how much he wanted to share with her."She felt like a memory. When I think about her I can't remember any details that are specific to her aside from the basics; she was married to an abusive man and had two sons, she liked owls and made metal sculptures. I know there's more but my memories. . . . I'm remembering feelings that are nostalgic. . . . when I think about her all I can think of is," He begins twisting his wedding ring again. His breath becomes heavier and his face slightly contorted, "I think of Lori" he forces out.
Michonne stays silent, nodding to encourage him to keep talking. "She was normal, in a small town with white picket fences; she wore fennel; she gave me a hair cut, she was stay at home mother. When I try to picture her just as Jessie in my memories, I see Lori instead, I think Lori. I miss Lori"
"That makes sense that you miss your wife who died and look to a woman who seemed like her"
He paused for a few minutes. "She died thinking I hated her. I treated her like that out of anger and thought I could fix it after Judith was born but then she died" his hands begin shaking and his voice starts to sound strangled as he continues to speak. "I screwed up and now I can't let it go. I made bad, dangerous judgments because I can't let that go. I can't fix it, but I can't let go."
Michonne looked at how vulnerable he was and decided to give in to the desire to comfort him. She reached up to stroke his hair softly and slowly. She moves to rubbing gentle circles into his back. "It's up to you when you are ready to let go and you can let go of the pain and anger you feel without letting go of the person." Rick looked up at her, allowing her words and touch to calm him. Michonne looked first thoughtful for a moment and then determined. "I had a son" she stated, simply but with weight to the words.
Ricks eyes widened at her statement, forgetting for a moment about what he was feeling. He was certain she had once had a child, she was too great with children not to have had some practice, but how does one ask a question about that or bring the topic up? He had a glimpse of that type of pain when he thought he lost Judith and he didn't think he'd ever want to speak about her had he never found her. Rick nodded and reached over to the hand that wasn't rubbing his back and held it, continuing to look into her eyes while he rubbed circles on top of her hand with his thumbs.
"When I held him for the first time after he was born, I promised myself that I'd love and protect him for the rest of my life. He, Andre, was perfect curious, energetic, funny. He made me laugh everyday. He was only 3 when the world went crazy and was tested more than I ever thought I could handle trying to keep him alive and safe. His father couldn't adapt and it broke him. He took my son down with him and I wasn't there. I left him with a man I knew was not capable of protecting my child and he died. I felt like I killed him. The person I became is what happens when you feel like you killed your child. It took me a long time and really important relationships to help me let go of that blame so that I can just miss my son . . . . It took a long time to feel I was worthy of that but I did get and Carl have been the most important supports for me in that process.
Rick felt Michonne's hand resting on his back. It had stilled there as she told her story. He felt a multitude of emotions. Honored she finally shared this piece of herself with him. Pain for her loss of her son. Anxious because he shared something so raw with her yet safe because she was there for him as she always was. He felt amazed at her wisdom and strength built through overcoming her past obstacles. He felt something else too; this unclear mixture of, warmth, openness, and connection. As Michonne's eyes slipped down from his face to the carpet moving around as if she were studying the pattern in the carpet fibers, he looked over her body which seemed even more tired after her exposition. He had always noticed how attractive her body was. The way her jeans hugged her form positively emphasizing her curves. How her shirts, while not tight, showcased her perky breasts and tiny waist. Her skin was so very smooth that it often screamed at him to be touched, while her lips full, soft, almost pillowlike- begged him to kiss them. He definitely found her attractive but it's as if sharing their stories drew him to her more. Rick started to become uncomfortably warm and tapered off his thumb's ministrations on her hand.
"Thank you for telling me about Andre," Rick murmured. "You've been amazing with Carl, your son was very lucky to have a mother like you. And I'm grateful for you "
Michonne nodded. Unshed tears pooled around her eyes.
Rick suddenly realized that just as Carl had a hand in healing Michonne, she has done the same with him for Lori. Even though Jessie was the one who directly reminded him of Lori, it was Michonne who helped him heal and kept him sane. She was the one who would help him forgive himself in a healthy way. Every positive aspect of himself and his life now could not have existed without her. He wants to take care of her, even when she doesn't need it, he wants to be there for her. Oh god, I think I'm falling in love with her.
Her eyes began to struggle keeping open while any grogginess he had disappeared after his internal revelation. She shifted her body to partially lay on the couch, her torso on the couch and her legs dangling off to allow him to remain seating. Rick looked over at her rest form and after a few minutes he stated "You're falling asleep, you should go to bed" and received a mumbled response in return. After a few more minutes her breathing altered to the rhythmic pattern of a deep sleeper. He shook her slightly but she after no response to his efforts and he slipped his arms underneath her body and lifted her up. Her body curled easily into his. Like it fit. He tightened his hold on her slightly and tried to make his way up the stairs to her room without waking her.
Once in her room, he noted that the cover were mostly pulled back so he was angled to gently lay her down on the bed, lift her legs to shift the covers on top of her tucking her in. Each step in this process was slow and deliberate savoring each action because she was asleep and he could take his time handling her with care. He hovered over her for a moment as his eyes swept over her unguarded face, his pulse speeding up. So beautiful. He wanted to caress her cheek, kiss her forehead, hold her. Instead, forcing himself to back away, he walked to the door and soundlessly closed it behind him as he left.
Rick went to his room and closed the door. Shuffling over to bed he flopped down on it. His mind swirling his new knowledge but he was too tired to think anymore. Absentmindedly, he again began turning his wedding ring.