When you're in a dark place sometimes it feels like you've been buried… But Rick is on his way to finding out that he's actually been planted. All he has to do is bloom. The wit and mind-blowing talent of Winterscorpion brings us closer to that Richonne growth. If you've never been blessed to read her work, YOU HAVE ARRIVED! Known for her unique and raw writing style, this chapter is sure to have you in your feelings and leave your screen in ashes from the sensationally smutty heat.
Don't forget to check out her other works on her FF page.
-We're The Ones Who Write
Chapter 4
Rick was halfway bent down retrieving one of several overturned vases when he thought he heard his wife tell a very unfunny joke.
"Baby, I'm sorry what was that," he said still bent over looking up at his wife, who was still perched on the table they just fucked on, "It … ha.. huh… sounded like you said you weren't coming home."
"Rick, you heard me," Michonne replied, still in a daze from their latest table romp, though not so dazed that she felt she had to repeat herself. She gingerly let down one of her legs to steady herself onto the floor, luxuriating in the pleasurable soreness no amount of yoga could prevent once her husband got to her.
Rick stood upright with the quickness and tilted his head, as if that could help him see her better… to understand her better. What he did see were remnants of their coupling slowly trickling down her inner thigh. What he understood was that his dick was still damp from Michonne's very essence that she had blessed it with, several times, just a few moments ago. What he didn't understand were the words that were coming out of her mouth. He watched her step lightly down from the table, walking with a tentative bow legged gait to rival his own, and retrieve her discarded clothing
"No baby, I don't thank I heard you correctly," he replied, his southern drawl stepped up a notch in agitation, "Cuz it sounded like you said you wasn't comin' home with me… today. I know I heard you wrong so Imma need you to repeat what you said."
Michonne moved to the bed to grab her bathrobe. Having decided that she needed to actually shower the intoxicating smell of her and her wily man off if she was going to be able to stick to her stalwart position. She avoided Rick's tensing stance as she gathered some clean clothes and a towel to take with her to the en suite shower in the room.
"Rick, I am coming home. I always was," she started, eyes averted from the two blue lasers burning into her, "But not today. There are still a couple of projects that I am overseeing for Ezekiel that I need to see executed fully … and I have to say… I'm not very convinced that you've 'worked out' your anger issues." Her fingers still in air quote position as he made a few steps toward her. He stood next to her, staring at her profile, wrapped his arms around her waist, and pulled her to him.
"Michonne," he growled as he ground into her side, feeling the beginnings of another erection rub against that special spot on her hip, "I came here… crawlin' back to you. The Kingdom isn't where I wanna be. But here I am like a puppet on a string… for you. For my family."
He pulled her tighter against him and slipped his hand into the loose front of her robe. His large palm found its rightful place on her firm breast and squeezed tenderly. Michonne got lost in his smell surrounding her... and his persistent graze of her nipple... and his whispered. pleading rasp in her ear as she leaned into his embrace. Her head tilted onto his chin while his hand travelled down to her taut abdomen. She shivered from her core in his embrace.
She wanted to pause his advancing hand but then his irresistible drawl found its way to her ear again in a husky whisper, "Are you mine, Chonne? Are you sure?" His hand had now made its way to the loosely tied belt of her robe, easily undoing it so the garment fell open, leaving her front exposed to his persistent assault.
"Is this mine," he whispered again as his hand moved to cup her swollen womanhood, "It felt like mine a few minutes ago. It still feels like mine." His middle finger didn't even pause to make its usual pit stop at her already sensitive nub. As if knowing its mission, it travelled down her slippery slit directly to her opening and slid into home. Michonne hissed while his finger pumped and swirled in her heated canal.
His other hand gripped her closer to him and he tilted his groin into her, "You tryin' to make me go crazy stayin' here. Is that it Michonne?" She bit her lip at the way he made her name sound like thick honey falling from his lips. With every side rub of his hardness on her hip she knew she was going to lose this battle. Even so, she was determined to win the war. Even as she felt the steady rise of her third climax in the matter of a few minutes, she knew that she had to stand on the hill she was willing to die on. Rick's sanity and the foundation of their relationship depended on her victory. Even when her hand went to the top of his to guide him further into her and even as she let the moan of his name slip from her lips, her mind had a focus on his well-being. Rick had to know his overprotective brand of crazy was going to be the wedge that even the purest of orgasms would not be able to dislodge. No, he's gonna learn today, she thought as she moved her pelvis in a steadily rapid rhythm that was about to drive her over the edge.
He pushed his index finger in to join its usual partner in crime and curved them into a come-hither motion, beckoning to be awash in her wet release.
"Or maybe you think these Kingdom fellas can do what I'm doing for you? Is that it Michonne? You think them little boys sniffin' around you can make you wet like this?" His grip tightened on her at the very thought of the wavy haired United Colors of Benetton boy toy group he first encountered having the nerve to breathe the same air as his woman. Much less, the nerve to have her name come so nonchalantly out of their mouths in conversation.
"You think Sam…" he added another finger, "or PJ… " he thrust a little harder and added his thumb in for playtime on her swollen clit, "or Moe make you come the way I'm about to? Huh baby… you gonna answer me?" He bit into her shoulder and Michonne's grip on his hand tightened.
He licked the spot he bit to soothe the bruise he knew would come but he didn't halt his penetrative assault. The wet music their joined hands were making with her pussy was obscenely loud in the silence of the room as Michonne felt her body tighten for its final release.
"I'm… yours Rick," she gritted out, "I'm all your… fuck… that's… ungh… god right there...that's not what this is about." She couldn't hold on much longer but she needed him to know she was stronger than the orgasm she felt barreling to the surface.
Rick felt her pulse more of her essence into his palm, "Say it again Michonne. Say it…" he was deep in her heat and his cock was a stone hard warning in his jeans, "I'm yours. You still mine...Is. This. Still. Mine... C'mon say it."
"Yessssssss…. It's yours Riiiiiiiccckk," she screamed as she felt herself release from a well that she thought she had depleted. Every spasm of her pussy released a little more moisture as her heart raced from the exertion brought on by the ravaging thrusts of his fingers.
He let her spill into his hand, ignoring the jealous point of his engorged manhood trying desperately to escape its denim prison. He kept his hand in position so he could feel every quiver, each tightening muscle. He loved to feel what only he could do her. Loved watching her relinquish her control to him. What he didn't love was what she said once she got her breath back and pulled away from him.
"I have work to finish. You're going to let me," she stepped away from him, "I'm getting into the shower. It's too late for you to travel back tonight. So you're staying too."
Rick looked dumbfounded from his dripping hand to his wife's retreating back, "But… Michonne -"
"No buts… and you're sleeping with the kids. Hope your back is ready for bunk beds. Cuz that's yours tonight."
###
"Did you see the size of that thing?"
"So that's the infamous Colt Python huh?"
Carl's ears perked up at the familiar words so closely associated to his family name. Well, to be more accurate it was associated with his dad but that wasn't possible…
"And his 'aim is still surgical', I mean what the actual fuck."
"Well you certainly looked like you shit yourself."
"I damn near did. I repeat. Did. You. See. The. Size. Of. That. Thing?"
"I was too busy trying not to get shot to pay attention to the size of the hand cannon that was aimed at me to really have an opinion. And did you see the look in his eyes, all gruff and scary with the 'Where the fuck is my wife'? If the bullet didn't get us then for damn sure that cold dead stare would finish the job up nicely."
Carl sighed as he walked behind the trio of men on his way to pick up his little sister. Well, I guess dad's here, he thought with a shake of his head. He sped up his steps so he could try to get to Michonne and give her some warning.
"Come on man, he wasn't that scary. I still think he's too old for her."
Carl's footsteps took a moment's pause as he looked at the back of a blonde Kingdomer. Did he just say… ?
"… Walking in there like that. 'Where the fuck is my wife'… I mean come on. If he had to come looking for her how surgical can the Famous Rick Grimes' aim really be," Sam said then chuckled, "Did he forget where he put her with his old ass?"
"I'm pretty sure he knows exactly where she is. I'd also bet he has no problem forgetting where he'll leave your body if he heard you talking about her like that," Carl snarled just loud enough for the trio to take their own moment's pause in their footsteps. They each slowly turned around to face the young male heir to the Grimes name and lethal temper, "He passed his aiming skills onto me you know. I only got one eye left, but I can still do this."
Quick as a flash Carl had his hunting knife out and had it hurling through the air, spiraling quickly past the blonde shit talker's ear, nicking it in its progress to the tree directly behind him. It landed dead center of the tree with a satisfying 'thunk'. All three men did a double take staring in awe back and forth from their young assailant and the tree.
"What the actual fuck? I'm bleeding for Christ's sake," Sam yelped seeing the blood on the hand he just pulled away from his ear, "You're just as crazy as your father!"
"If you think that's crazy, wait till you hear that I'm disappointed in myself," Carl grunted, and just as swiftly, he had his gun drawn and cocked before Sam could even complete his next thought, "I really wasn't aiming for that tree."
"Hey Carl, no harm no foul man! Sam here is just being an ass," PJ pleaded, his hands already in the upright position. Dennis attempted to pull Sam back into his right mind, muttering what sounded like you don't want to fuck with this family.
"Well, I suggest you watch what you say about my 'old ass' father," Carl replied, "And keep your eyes off of my mom while you're at it. We clear?" He didn't even wait to hear the mumbled acquiescence as he walked calmly to the tree without sparing a glance towards the three men. He retrieved his knife from the tree and continued on his way, quietly seething to himself.
He knew part of the reason they were in the Kingdom was because of his misguided attempts to gain some sort of closure from his conversations with Negan. He knew he couldn't explain the draw the murderous former leader of the Saviors had on him. Maybe it was the darkness in the smooth talking sociopath that Carl had himself felt rise and lingered just under his surface, ever since this hell on earth life had begun. In his short life he'd had to kill the man who he had known to be his favorite uncle. He'd had to shoot his own mother to prevent her from becoming a monster sheathed in her skin. He'd even had to kill an unarmed boy not much older than he was… that was it. That was when he'd let the darkness take over. Even then he had known killing that boy was not only wrong but the coldest thing he could have imagined doing in his young life. After his father's intervention of good old fashioned hard work in the prison's soil and Michonne's ever present support, Carl had learned to quell that side of him that brought out the darkness.
Then Negan happened. Him and his bat happened. Him and his megalomaniacal demands on his family and community happened and the darkness was back in full force. After they had won the war the darkness still lay there, festering in his heart like a poisonous cancer. He wanted Negan dead. He wanted him dead for strong bullheaded Abraham and Sasha who barely got to see any bit of happiness before they were both taken away. He needed Negan dead for Glenn, who he had known since the beginning of the mad chaos that was the new world. Glenn who had brought his father back to him alive without even knowing the gift he brought to the quarry so many long days ago.
Carl was sure that speaking to Negan and trying to figure out what made him tick would quell that dark thirst for another human's death. He couldn't reconcile his desire to end another fellow human's life when the real enemy, the true undead, should have been the top placeholder for that hate. Since they had arrived at the Kingdom, he had tried to explain to Michonne, why he was continuing to visit Negan, even against her wishes. Michonne being who she was, and always keenly in tune with her boy, knew that he felt like a monster having the murderous feelings he did and did the best thing that she could do. She listened. Listened to what that piece of shit poured into her son's ear during their talks. Listened to the questions Carl had for the imprisoned enemy.
As he spoke about it, he realized Negan's manipulations and his own strength in not giving in to any of Negan's machinations. He realized that the man was just a man. A sick, despot of a man but still just a man that this apocalypse had nothing to do with. Negan was always an asshole and the apocalypse simply fed into his assholery in the worst way possible. Carl also saw how his father could never have been Negan because he was always a good man. If he really thought about it, he was his father's son after all. He could be a good man too. By the end of Carl's cathartic confessions, he was in tears but relieved that he had finally unpacked his fears and Michonne was in tears from witnessing that burden lift from his youthful shoulders. At the end of the day, Carl realized he should have just come to Michonne in the first place.
Now he hurried to their domicile at the Kingdom to warn her that the other reason they were at the Kingdom was in close vicinity. He hoped he could beat his father to her or at least head him off at the pass so he could have a good talk with him too. From the way those three idiots were talking, he could only imagine what his father's reaction would have been if he had encountered much of the same. The very thought of his father and his colt python running wild within the kingdom shouting 'Where the fuck is my wife' spurred his feet into moving faster.
He rushed through the door, not thinking to knock, "Mom, I think Dad is here and he's probably on his way to us right n.." Carl was stopped short as he was greeted with the familiar broad back of his father standing at the sink washing his hands, "Oh shitfuck… uh… hi dad."
"So that's what you're learning here? Cussin' like you have no damn sense," Rick turned around to face his tattle tale son, "You're lucky Michonne's in the shower because I'm pretty sure she could figure out a way to make sure a Kingdom groundin' feels just like a Safe-Zone groundin'."
Carl thought for sure he'd have gotten a pass for that slip up but he didn't want to push it, "Sorry Dad. Just surprised to see you is all… so umm… I guess she knows you're here so I guess… I'll just … um… go.. Maybe go pick Judith up… or just… go... somewhere else. Not here."
Carl knew how his parents could get when they were within touching distance of each other and he didn't want to break his streak of not being caught in the heated crosshairs of their volatile affections. He managed to take a brief look at the room and saw that a few of the vases containing Michonne's gifts had already fallen victim to the hurricane that was their intense… whatever they called it. He figured if Michonne was in the shower then that could only mean they were headed home.
He hoped that his father's appearance meant that he too had had some sort of epiphany. But in all honesty, with the 'where the fuck is my wife' still echoing in his mind, he highly doubted it. Michonne wasn't a weak woman by any means and Carl was actually pretty proud of her leaving and staying as long as she did. However, it seemed his father was back in her orbit. Carl could only imagine what kind of persuasions he used. He could almost see her breaking and returning to the Alexandria Safe-Zone, his father's lesson unlearned and her still feeling the pressure of being loved the Grimes way.
"Well, I'll come with you," Rick said with a sigh, "Cuz it looks like we're gonna be here for one more night at least. Michonne is… determined… and so am I," Rick dwindled off and a flash of hot anger crossed the electrified blue of his eyes.
"We're staying," Carl exclaimed surprisingly, "You… you too?"
"Yeahhhh… and looks like I'm bunkin' with you and your sister too," Rick chuckled derisively, "So you may want to tell me which bunk you prefer. Top or bottom? Makes no difference to me."
Carl stifled a laugh at the thought that his father had been relegated to sharing the cramped bunk beds with him and his little sister. He again felt that surge of pride in Michonne. Good for her, he thought, sticking to her original plan. Maybe he could help the woman who had come to mean so much more than a best friend to him.
"Well I'm top because Mom was afraid of Judes falling off. But she's been sleeping in the big bed with Michonne anyway so the bottom bunk's all yours."
"Sounds about right. Can barely keep Judith out of our bed at home so at least that hasn't changed. C'mon let's go get her and you can tell me about what you've been up to while Michonne gets cleaned up."
###
"You know Dad," Carl started off tentatively as they walked side by side to the nursery to pick up his little sister, "I'm not really surprised you're here. I'm just surprised that it took you so long."
Rick scoffed his response, not surprised at his son's non-surprise at his sudden appearance. His pride in his boy knew no bounds as he glanced at him from the side vision. He had watched his son mature from a precocious willful young boy into the pensive young man making strides that were longer than his now. He saw this new world tear his only son's childhood away like the jaws of the very undead that they fought with daily. Its harsh cruelty sowing a seed of darkness that Rick recognized and was so familiar with that he almost didn't try to stop it from taking root.
Rick knew that darkness well. He knew the taste of its bile intimately. He had wallowed in its cold embrace from the moment he felt the knife sink into his best friend's gullet. He let it drown him with its choking tentacles as he gutted the monster that held his dead wife's remains in its bowels. He almost let it break him as it gifted him with phantom phone calls in the prison and the even eerier phantom of his dead wife, looking more pristine and innocent in her ghostly form than she ever did in life.
Then she came into his life. His Michonne. Even that day at the prison gate he could almost feel the darkness scream its defeat and release its hold on him. He didn't know it at the time but he damn sure felt it the moment he stared into those fierce brown eyes. He couldn't understand it either at the time but he understood it now. That earth shattering stare had felt life altering in its simplicity of force. Looking back, he now realized that that was the beginning of everything. When the darkness had lost to the light of this powerful, fearsome, beautiful beacon of a woman he now called his. He watched as the seed in his son withered into dormancy under Michonne's watch. Rick would be forever grateful for the part she played in giving his son back a little of the sun that had been held at bay by the continuous mercilessness of the apocalypse that tried to conquer it.
Rick wasn't the only one grateful to Michonne. In order to thank her in his own small way, Carl saw fit to set his father on a better path.
"Dad… you know why we left right," he asked cautiously, gauging his father's response before he continued, "It's not just about Negan… or me talking to Negan."
"Son, I know why y'all are here and trust me, I know why I'm here. To get my family back where they belong," Rick responded.
"Are you sure? Because you being here… and don't get me wrong I'm happy to see you," Carl said, "Well it don't really seem like you understand why Michonne picked us all up and came here. Seems to me you came here with the same … erm… behavior that drove her here in the first place."
Rick halted his steps to turn to his son and gave his boy a head tilt usually reserved for someone about to be on the receiving end of a red handled hatchet to the head.
Carl went on unfazed, "I mean, did you even see what she's accomplished here in a matter of a couple of days."
"Son, I saw enough," Rick said through gritted teeth, not willing to admit that he had barely noticed the feeding atrium Ezekiel had tried to show him when he first arrived. Didn't want to tell his son that he couldn't see past the haze of red that had fallen over his eyes the moment he heard that falsetto trio daring to speak Michonne's name.
Carl already knew though and said as much, "How could you see past that gun of yours aimed and ready to do some Grimes justice?"
Rick's head went straight in a flash and gave his son an incredulous stare.
"Yeah, dad," Carl continued, almost remorsefully, "How could you see past whatever, or should I say whoever, seemed like a threat. Not a deadly threat mind you, but a threat nonetheless… to something that was yours."
Hearing all the truth his son was dishing out almost made Rick's heart stop. But Carl wasn't finished. Not by a long shot.
"See Dad, what you didn't see is that Michonne isn't Mom," Carl dealt his trump card and dared his father to try to bluff, "You think I don't remember or maybe you just don't think I was old enough to understand but I did. I saw Mom and… Shane. What they became. How soon they became what they were. I … I look at Judith and I see so much of mom in her but Dad… I see little bits of Shane too."
Rick stood stunned.
"I was there. I'm the one that had to put Shane down. I remember how you were after. I know what died in you that night at the farm. And I definitely know what came to life inside you that night, because that was when the same thing came to life in me."
"Son," Rick started, his voice so raw it went raspier than even he thought it could go.
"No Dad, I'm talking now," Carl defiant in his bravery, "What you don't understand is that Michonne came and I saw it… felt that thing gnawing inside me and you start to go away. From the moment she became one of us, I felt the pressure of it kind of ease away. And you did too! Maybe you don't remember, but I do. You started me farming not to soon after that. Tried to kill the darkness in me and yourself. And I knew, everytime she left the prison it would try to come back but … just knowing she would always come back kept it bay. Now, I don't think we… me and you, are ever gonna let it die. In this world we're living in we can't. But… when it comes to her… when it comes to what's yours… what's ours… we gotta let it lie. Lie in wait and use it. Use it for the ones that really deserve it. Not let it drive out the little bit of light we got."
Rick didn't know his face was wet until he felt an errant breeze blow by. This was the most his son had ever said to him in one sitting. The most truth anyone had ever made him face with the exception of Michonne's call to battle. And the truth hurt. But it healed too. He felt it break over him as he stared into Carl's blue eye, the lone survivor of the pair that were so much like his own.
Rick cleared his throat to speak, "Carl… it takes a real man to set another man straight and I'm real proud of you son. I'm proud of the man you've become. I'm prouder than you could ever imagine. It also takes a man to see his own faults and I'm so sorry that I've fallen short of the man and father I should have been… I –"
Carl cut him off, "Dad, you're every bit of proud of me as I am of you. Proud that I'm your son. You and Michonne… nothing against Mom because I will always love her, but you're the parents that I needed in this world. You're the team that I've always needed to be a part of. But, you just gotta see yourself as a team. See Michonne as your teammate. Not something that's gonna be taken away, but someone who already sees you as her partner."
"When'd you grow the hell up on me boy," Rick snickered as he wiped as his face of the rugged tears that had escaped.
"Since I met Michonne," Carl said without hesitation, "and a little bit of help from my dumbass Dad."
"Hey now," Rick came back, barely hiding the gruff laugh that erupted from him, "Remember what I told you 'bout that Kingdom groundin'?" He grasped his son's shoulder to give it a squeeze and turned them back to their path, "Now let's go get your sister so you can show me some more of what you all have been up to. I'm sure there's lots I need to see of Michonne's good work."
Carl laughed as he turned and led the way.
###
The sun slowly chased the dark shadow on the two hands intertwined over the steady rise and fall of Judith's sleeping tummy. Rick watched the light make its slow progression over his large fingers interlaced in his wife's diminutive ones and counted his blessings while he watched his girls sleep.
That he didn't find himself waking on the bottom bunk with his son with all kinds of joint pains being the very least of the blessings he counted, he counted it nonetheless. Grateful that his wife took pity on him after seeing a brand new vase to add to her collection, full of Kingdom bred blooms to rival the ones that came before. The blessing of her poise as he came back with their children, brimming with pride from all they had shown him of her work there. The blessing of her forgiveness when he finally got to speak to her in the quiet of the night of his anger and how he never meant to let it be the force to push her away. The blessing he counted second was the love and understanding he saw in her eyes as she listened to his mea culpa was only beaten out by a very slim margin to his number one blessing.
"I love you," she had whispered to him over their daughter's light snores, "and I want to come back home...I… I just have to finish what I started here."
"Shhh…" Rick hushed her, "You take whatever time you need to finish this. You just let me know how I can help. I'll get in where I fit in."
Michonne chuckled quietly, fully aware of the dangers of a waking Judith, "Oh you fit in just fine Rick Grimes. But are you sure? It may be a couple of months. But I can certainly use all the help I can get."
Even though his heart wanted to scream, a couple of months hell no, his mind and a voice in his head that kind of sounded like his son, told him that the separation would give him the time to deal with the root of the weed that was his anger and darkness. The time he needed to be the best father for his family, the best leader for his community, the best man Michonne deserved.
"Well if that's how long it takes… I'm giving you all the help I can give. That alright with you Partner?"
Even in the dark of the late night, the light from her gorgeous smile showed through.
"I'm alright with that … Partner."
