"There are times when the mind is dealt such a blow it hides itself in insanity. While this may not seem beneficial, it is. There are times when reality is nothing but pain, and to escape that pain the mind must leave reality behind."
― Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind

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"So you and the hairdresser of the dead..."

I needed something to do. I wasn't going to go back to the force and my mother Ella was literally driving me crazy. She kept trying to get me to move on with my life. Not let the fact that I murdered my wife and her lover with one bullet slow me down from meeting the woman of my dreams. It was never something that I pursued with Michonne at first.

I didn't notice Michonne in that way. Romantic feelings grew but it wasn't there at all between us in the beginning. I think we were more an annoyance to each other. I called her Medusa based on her hair and she called me a dirty ass redneck motherfucker. She said I smelled bad. I don't know anyone who dig graves smelling like roses but she has this hangup about odors. I told her if she sniffing me may be she is standing too damn close and to step the fuck back.

I use to think something was going on with her and Tyrese. They seemed to get a long more often than not. She did not like Eugene at all because she didn't like mullets and he wouldn't let her cut his hair because the scissors she was going to use were the same exact scissors she used on the dead. Plus, Michonne isn't the best hairstylist, she was just the only hairstylist that would work for a little bit of nothing. I think it was us being alcohol buddies that got us comfortable. Now that we are sober, I can't imagine being without her.

I had no idea why I was explaining myself to Shane who was always asking for an explanation about me and Michonne. I kept pounding my head with my fist to get him to stop asking me how me and Michonne started out. Shane kept asking me...

"Rick are you okay?" Michonne stopped her sobbing.

Her voice caused me to focus on the task at hand. We were officially going to be late for the meeting if Michonne didn't get her ass from the bottom of the freshly dug grave. Tyrese and Eugene already left. She was laying there on her back crying.

"Michonne, why are you down there? We need to go. We need to be at the meeting."

"I am broken Rick." Michonne began to wail.

"I know you are, Michonne." I was not about to lie to her. Plus I don't think it was Michonne down there and it wasn't Sybil. The Michonne I thought I knew would never lay in the dirt. Ever.

"Like in a million pieces and I can't seem to find them so I can put them back together. I want to be me Rick."

"Well that is a conversation you need to have with Sybil and the rest of your personalities. The one I don't like the most is Sybil. You need to be more forceful and push her out once and for all. I am getting pretty tired of her anyway. She always pretend she has no clue to who the hell I am to you Michonne."

Michonne and I both have been off our meds for sometime. Her withdrawal seemed to be worse than mine.

"If you let me help you out of there we can try together because, I am broken too and the only time I am not is when we are together. We need each other Michonne so we don't become unhinged like when we aren't together."

Michonne finally stopped crying and we just stared at each other. I was on my stomach reaching my hand out to her. I needed Michonne to stand up and take my hand and get out of there. I needed Michonne more than I could comprehend more than who ever I was trying to reason with could comprehend.

"Are you saying you are my crazy glue?" Michonne asked me.

"I am and you are mine. Now let's go."

She finally stood up and let me pull her out . I dusted her off and had to admit she smelled really, really bad. "I guess we are going to miss the meeting after all." I tried not frown my face up at her but it was nearly impossible not to do.

"Why Rick?"

"Because you smell bad Michonne, and I refuse for anyone to think badly about you at the meeting, so what we are going to do is go inside, get naked, shower together and make some sweet love so we can be less crazy. We need to be less crazy and right now that is what helps us."

"Okay." Michonne sniffed and took my hand as I led her inside the part of the house where the living lived.

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I don't remember being at the bottom of the freshly dug grave. I have no memory of it at all.

I couldn't understand why we weren't at the meeting. Why we didn't go because this was the day of the week that we always went. What I do remember is Rick licking my breast like they were ice cream and his hands were the cones.. He was rotating his hips as he slowly slid in and out. He knew when he did it like that I would always have the most intense orgasms. My body was arching and my hips reached for him to go deeper. I needed him to go faster but he was doing it to me real slow. He was making sure I was present as he stared down at me. His eye so blue. He was waiting for me.

"I love you Michonne. I love you..."

"Faster Rick...Faster..."

He sped up going deeper just the way I like him to do it to me. It wasn't long before we were climaxing together and in that moment I got a glimpse of my sanity.

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A/N: I know this story is crazy as hell. I know, and I am so fascinated with this dynamic that I sit here and wonder how the hell did I come up with this...