August ? 2011. Day 51 ??? Island, Fiji


Three days.

It'd been three days since Michonne had last seen Rick. He just disappeared. It was as though he'd completely vanished.

Michonne knew better than to disturb him, giving him all the space and time he needed. Hell, she needed it too. However, it didn't stop the constant worry that ran rampant through her mind.

The past few days had been difficult without him. On the contrary, she was proud to say that she was faring well before he came along. She adapted quickly and efficiently. But ever since Rick arrived to survive with her, she couldn't imagine it being any other way.

It was so natural, going back to living with one another again. It was of course different since they were living in concerning circumstances. But regardless they fell into a routine similar to their previous marriage.

It wasn't easy by any means, distrust and agitation still lingered between them. But it didn't take long for them to get over the hurdle of disagreements. Michonne found herself unwillingly enjoying his presence and company. It reminded her on why she'd been so in love with him in the first place. It truly scared her.

Unknowingly, Rick had become her pillar of her sanity. He kept her afloat and managed to remind her that she wasn't only surviving for herself, but for him as well. They needed each other.

Underneath all the healing, she didn't miss the old feelings bubbling up beneath the surface. Stolen glances, lingering touches, random declarations of affection, trips down memory lane, and the stares. Always the fucking stares.

Falling in love was so easy, but falling out of love was damn near impossible. Michonne intentionally ignored the signs and shut down any implications of remaining feelings towards the other.

Except she couldn't this time. She gave in to her God given nature and shamelessly kissed her ex-husband. For a split second she felt free, like she was floating in an abyss. Giving into her deepest desires.

Everything, everyone, all the things that kept her grounded washed away for those few seconds spent in his warm embrace. Sparks of electricity jolting her body, as his soft lips met with hers. Flashbacks of their love playing behind her closed eyes.

But nothing lasted forever, everything had to come to an end eventually. Michonne shuddered at the permanent image plastered in her brain of Rick's hooded eyes losing their light, as she pushed him off of her.

The unfolding events of the few days prior had continuously played over and over in her memory. The empty stare he'd left her with and the painful expression flooding his already somber face.

It was hard after he'd left. She'd knew deep down she didn't have a right to feel hurt by his words and actions, but it still made her feel miserable. Sleep was a rarity that could only be found for brief periods of time. The once comfortable twin bed had magically hardened without the reassurance of Rick being under the same roof or even sheets as her.

Michonne had spent the last three days living on auto pilot completely. If she knew this was a small spat she wouldn't have felt a quarter of her current guilt. What scared her was the unknown. The far future that lay ahead of them.

There was a large chance that she'd spend whatever was left of her life alone, and die alone. Clearly that was the only thing in store since no one in civilization had seemed to get the memo of the two being missing persons in a foreign country.

She sat on the isolated shore watching the harsh waves crash upon each other. The white foamy liquid washed over her feet and returned back into the water. The beautiful scenery now bleak, as Michonne lost her ability to appreciate what was in front of her. Ironic.

A tear drop fell on her arm, rolling into the wet sand she sat upon. She didn't know how long she'd sat there for, minutes, hours, days, weeks? The time had just blurred into a endless loop.

Her fate was sealed, stuck on this island for the rest of her life. And she'd done nothing but drive away her only hope and key to her sanity. Rick.

Michonne dropped her head into her knees, pulling them tighter to her chest. The excessive amount of salt water spraying on her, erupted a violent urge to regurgitate.

She couldn't differentiate if it was the sea sickness, or dreadful regret of further destroying her blossoming relationship with her ex-husband. Just thinking about the dying light in his bright cerulean eyes made her chest ache.

She was being hit with a humbling blow of reality once she realized how much she wanted him. How much she needed him. You never know how much you want something until you lose it.

During their divorce she was able to shut him out. Close off completely and keep to herself whilst suffering in her own silence. But being able to live, being able to survive with him was a wake up call Michonne desperately needed.

But instead of moving on and reconciling, she chose to hurt him. And it was clear she hurt him. He was usually a man of few words, but the way he completely broke down made his frustration apparent.

The calling of seagulls screeched in the distance, promptly leading Michonne to look in their direction. On both stretches of the never ending beach, Rick was nowhere to be found.

As a matter of fact, he hadn't stepped foot on the beach as far as she knew. There hadn't been any sign of him being anywhere near the shore.

It didn't help that she'd continuously roam around the surrounding area, hoping to catch any glimpse of him. But all of her efforts were in complete vain.

The coconuts she left for him by his old shelter were untouched and completely abandoned. He hadn't even returned to go to the cabin either, he just left.

All that was missing was his handy machete. She assumed he must of taken it immediately after he left her standing on the beach following her confession.

She knew he was somewhere in the deep jungle. She had no idea where or what he was doing at the moment. As a matter of fact, she was terrified. What was he thinking? What could possibly be the fate for the two of them?

"Fuck," Michonne cursed, covering her forehead with her hand, "Fuck. Fuck," a bead of sweat rolled from her temple, and on to her collarbone.

She had no idea what her next plan of action would be. Look for him? Find ways to get off the island then go their separate ways permanently? Continue to live as she did before?

Michonne had a fair knowledge that Rick never really got over her after their separation. And in all honesty, she wasn't any better. She loved him, she loved him so deeply yet she couldn't conquer their marital problems. She couldn't get over her own pride and obsession of being right, and now she'd lost him. Again.

No thanks to her stubborn nature, she'd never attempted to make any attempts to heal their wounds. Thus making them go no contact for long stretches of time. She even got as far as starting anew in different state and cutting contact with most of her friends and family in Georgia.

But there was always a small light of possibility. The annual parties, funerals, reunions, and events would reconnect them, and reignite old memories causing their hearts to beat a little faster when the other was near. Benefits of having the same friends and living in the same small town.

It even once caused the biggest regret and mistake of her life. A mistake she held on to without telling anyone else. And now that mistake had returned to haunt her.


"Daddy!"

Rick jolted awake at the sweet sound of a little boy calling for him. The corner of his eyes crinkled at the sight of the most beautiful child he'd ever seen.

The boy ran into Rick's embrace, and wrapped his small arms around his neck. Rick's heart pounded when the boy looked up at him.

The boy's eyes were a gorgeous shade of blue, reflecting directly off of his own. And his dark brown wavy locks soft to the touch, as Rick ran his fingers through his hair.

Everything about the boy was a copy and paste of himself. His slender nose, his pink lips, the small mole on the left side of his face, and even his dimpled chin. He was perfect.

The only differences they had were the boy's light brown skin, and the deep dimples that appeared on his cherubic face from his heart melting smile.

Rick felt himself getting choked up. Looking curiously at the child, Rick traced his finger along the slope of his nose and stopped once his finger touched the boy's pouty lips.

"Daddy, come play in the water with me!" The enthusiastic child cried, placing his hands on Rick's heaving shoulders.

"I-I-" Rick stammered, looking around his surroundings in awe and confusion. He was still on an island, but it wasn't as though he was stranded.

It looked like they were on the beach of a resort, a large villa stood behind them through the tree line. A few umbrellas were visible to Rick as he looked down the distance of the sandy shore.

He was sitting on a white blanket, and had a picnic basket perched up right next to him. He didn't miss the few pairs of shoes as well.

The little boy wore light blue trunks and smelt like Sun Bum sunscreen. Upon closer inspection, Rick could also see small freckles scattered across his nose bridge and cheeks. He was falling deeper in love every second spent with the little tyke.

"Daddy, please?" He pleaded, giving Rick the most adorable set of puppy eyes, "Mommy said she doesn't wanna wake Judy up."

Rick's pupils dilated, "W- who's Judy?"

The boy laughed, "Silly Daddy! Did you forget? The baby in mommy's tummy is Judy!"

Rick's eyes shone with tears, as his mouth gaped open. He had so much he wanted to say, but no words could form in coherent sentences.

"Y-you're my son?"

"Duh," the child beamed, rolling his eyes in an adorable fashion, "Did you hit your head?"

Rick chuckled, pulling him in closer to his chest, "I might have... mind reminding me a bit of yourself, baby?"

"My name is Carl Grimes, I'm four and a half years old, I love legos and SpongeBob, and I love chicken tenders with fries and ice cream!" Carl announced, "Like that?"

"Yeah," Rick confirmed, giving Carl a tender kiss on the temple, "Like that."

Carl Grimes. His baby. He fought incoming tears, and held Carl, his son tighter. He couldn't believe this was happening, was he dead? Was he reunited, or rather finally meeting his deceased angel for the first time? Where was Michonne? Where was he? What was going on?

"I love you, Carl," Rick whispered, "I love you so much."

"I know, daddy. I love you too," Carl sweetly grinned, and pulled away from his father's possessive embrace. He got up to his feet, and ran back down towards the ocean to splash around in the water some more.

Rick felt a surge of unrequited love for the boy he'd just met. A boy he never got to meet. He wanted to get up and follow him, never letting him out of his sight. He wanted to protect him from the world, and keep him to himself selfishly.

Carl Grimes.

How was it possible that a human being could be that perfect? Was this the alternate ending for him and Michonne? Was this going to be their future if it all went right? Did their love create Carl? Michonne.

Rick's heartbeat quickened, as he smelt a familiar waft of Milk and Honey scent float by. His eyes closed instinctively once he felt a comforting presence near him.

"Rick?"

Rick's whole body shuddered. Her voice alone sent tremors through his spine. He opened his eyes, and quickly lost his breath.

Michonne stood there with the smile she only saved for him. She aged a few years in comparison to when he last saw her. Auburn locks adorned with white strands that weaved beautifully between the roots of her curly roots, and her thick dreads that now fell short on her shoulders.

Regardless, she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on. Rick's lips curled up in to a smile, as she carefully sat down on the blanket he resided upon. He was so incredibly taken away by her beauty, that he failed to see the bottle and champagne glasses she carried in her hands.

"'Chonne," Rick breathlessly greeted. Any and every feeling of malice and resentment that he harbored towards her was gone. Instead, he longed for her touch. She was an angel. His angel. Completely sinless.

Rick was never particularly a religious man, but he was most certainly sure that Michonne had been God sent. Her ankle length white dress wasn't helping her case either. She was heavenly.

"Baby," Michonne smiled, smoothing out Rick's curls, "You've been asleep for at least a few hours. Did Carl really work up that much of a sweat?"

Rick stared in awe, "I- I guess he did."

"That boy. He views you as a superhero, you know? When you left yesterday, his topics of conversation rotated between 'Spider-Man', ice cream, 'Teen Titans', and you. Rick?"

Rick sat there in shell shocked silence as he attempted to process her words. His face turning a shade of pink, and his eyes focused on the splashing figure of Carl. His breathing was heavy, and his hands shook uncomfortably.

"Baby? Are you okay?" Michonne's eyebrows furrowed in concern, as she brought the back of her hand to Rick's cheek.

Leaning into her touch, Rick closed his eyes, immediately calming down,"Yeah."

Michonne ran the pad of her thumb over his cheekbone, and sighed, "You have sand all over you. Did he try to bury you again?"

Rick chuckled and grabbed one of her hands. He left a gentle kiss on her palm and held it to his heart, "I love you."

"I love you too, Grimes. What's gotten into you?"

He shook his head, and gazed down at the shiny princess cut diamond ring that adorned her ring finger. He looked down at his own hand and smiled at the matching set. They were married again.

"Nothang'... I'm just... just grateful. For you, for Carl, for..." Rick cautiously rested his hand on her visibly protruding stomach, "For her."

"We're grateful for you too, my love," Michonne sweetly smiled. She grabbed the bottle she was previously holding, and poured it into the champagne glasses.

"Woah, Michonne," Rick said, halting her movements, "You can't drink that."

She laughed, "It's apple cider," she held up the bottle for Rick to see visibly, "I promise I'm not crazy."

He took a deep breath of relief and chuckled at his paranoia. It hadn't even been ten minutes and he was already taking his duty as a protective father and husband very seriously.

"I was thinking... maybe we could invite Andrea and Shane down here," Michonne suggested, pouring the apple cider for Rick, "A few days with them wouldn't hurt, right?"

"Huh? Why would they come here? When this trip is over we can get back home and see them again," Rick said, taking a sip from his glass.

"Did you hit your head, old man? This is our home. We haven't seen them in almost a year since Daryl and Sasha's wedding."

Rick stared blankly at his wife. This was their home? The villa behind them? The beautiful beach it resided on? That was their home? He left King County and moved to a foreign country with his love and had a family? Which universe timeline was he in?

"Our home..." Rick trailed off.

"Yeah," Michonne confirmed, a concerned expression falling flat on her face, "Are you sure you're okay? Do you have a fever?"

"No, no. I'm fine, more than fine actually."

Michonne huffed, and leaned into to give Rick's nose a kiss. The affectionate gesture roused him once he looked down at the spilling cleavage from her v-neck dress.

"'Chonne..." Rick huskily muttered, as his wife straddled his lap, "The boy..."

"He's playing," Michonne assured, rubbing her cheek on his stubble, "Mhm, you smell so good.."

Rick wasn't paying any attention to her words and ran his open hands from her shoulders, all the way down to her backside.

She'd clearly gained a few pounds from the pregnancy and hormones, but she filled out so nicely in his hands. God, he'd missed her. Just when he thought she couldn't get any more perfect, she continued to prove him wrong.

"Rick," Michonne purred directly in his ear, "Will you make love to me tonight?"

Hearing those words alone turned Rick's whole state of mind in to complete chaos. His nostrils flared in anticipation, as he tried not to give in to his carnal desire. But she was making it so damn hard.

"Keep talkin' like that," Rick warned, leaving a wet kiss on her neck, "I'll make you mine right here, right now on this damn beach."

Michonne yelped, as he nipped the skin of her breast. That just turned Rick on even more. She was so damn irresistible. They had to deescalate the situation before it got out of hand.

"Mhm, what would I do without you?" Michonne asked, resting her forehead on his.

"I should be asking you that question. All this because of Gene's party."

"I never thought I'd marry you one day," Michonne giggled, "If someone told fourteen year old me that I'd be married to the boy shoving sandwiches in his mouth at my dad's welcoming party, I would've died."

"Is that a good thang' or...?"

"Yes, Rick. It's a good thing."

"Me however..." Rick sighed, "I knew, I knew."

"Mommy! Daddy! Look! I found a starfish!!" Carl screamed, running up to the couple.

"Here he comes," Michonne chuckled, sliding off of Rick's lap.

"I found a starfish! See!" Carl excitedly explained, after he reached his parents. He held up the animal to Rick's face, in which Michonne grimaced.

"Go throw it in the ocean, son. Make a wish," Rick instructed with a smile.

"I wanna keep it!"

"Carl..." Michonne started.

"Pleaseeeeee?" Carl pleaded, the pupils of his eyes barely visible, "Pleaseeee?"

"How about this? If you go throw that thang' in the water, I'll buy you ice cream sundaes tomorrow. How does that sound?" Rick asked, raising an eyebrow.

The boy's face swelled up in joy, as he quickly ran back to the foamy water.

"You have to stop spoiling that boy," Michonne laughed.

"I can't help it," Rick sighed, clasping her hands, "I swear you two have me under some sorta' spell."

"Three of us soon," she corrected, rubbing her belly, "And if God allows us, we'll maybe have four."

"Four? I was thinking more like... seven or eight."

"Eight!?" Michonne squealed.

"Nah, you're right. Maybe ten," Rick joked.

"Jesus," she gasped. The sun was starting to set, and the sky was starting to look like a watercolor painting. Rick nuzzled Michonne's hair, as she leaned back in to his chest. He knew she could feel his beating chest, and just how much he he was savoring the moment.

In all honesty, it was his heaven. Michonne, Carl, Judy, the island, it was created for them. For him. He never wanted to be anywhere else but there. For the rest of his given life he wanted to sit on a beach with his pregnant wife in his arms, watching their beautiful baby boy playing freely in the ocean with absolutely no worries.

"Heaven truly exists," Rick muttered, "There can't be anythang' that could be better than this."

"Than what?" Michonne asked.

"All of this. Our life together. The life we made together. I never wanna leave, never."

"Oh, Rick..." Michonne pulled away from his chest, and turned around to face him, "But you have to."

Rick's eyebrows furrowed,"What did you say?"

Michonne's face fell in pity, "All this this? This isn't real... you have to leave soon."

"No. What do you mean-" Rick flinched, as a drop of water fell on his forehead. He looked up and saw a raindrop coming directly at him.

He turned to warn Michonne of the incoming rain, but she was gone. In a state of panic, he turned towards where his boy was supposed to be playing, but he was gone too.

"No.." Rick muttered, erratically looking around to find his family, "No!"

"You have to leave, Rick..." Michonne's voice from far off softly called out.

"No!" Rick's voice broke, "You're not leaving me again!"

Silence.

Instead, he was met with the mocking shrill laughter of seagulls off in the distance. The howls of wind roared and the waves crashed violently against each other. The gorgeous orange sky had become a sinister dark grey color, and storm clouds were rising.

Rick's cries of agony were barely heard over the thunder boomed above.

He'd lost them, again.


August ? 2011. Day 51 ??? Island, Fiji


Jolting awake, Rick's eyes shot open in alarm. He was overly aware of his surroundings, and mindlessly looked around for any indication that Carl or Michonne had ever been there. What a cruel dream. It all felt so real. He felt so real.

He laid on a bed of palm tree leaves protecting him from the cold dirt floor. It was a rude wake up call in comparison to the somewhat warm cabin he'd been shacked up in. But the weather and his comfortability was the last thing he cared about at the moment.

"C-Carl," Rick muttered, his voice was horse from the lack of sufficient water. He had just seen his son, his baby. What could've been his baby if things didn't become they way that they were. A sharp pang of emotions stabbed through Rick's chest, as he recalled the sweet laughter of his baby boy.

His jaw clenched. How could she keep something as big as a pregnancy from him? And a miscarriage nonetheless. Using the pad of his thumb, Rick halted the escaping tear from the corner of his eyes. How could she sit with the fact that she'd kept something so fucking important to herself?

She'd even gotten far enough to find out the sex of the child as well. Rick's blood boiled at the thought of her planning on hiding his child from him.

He felt as though the rose tinted glasses that he had on were ripped from his face, reveling her true selfish nature. She'd become a complete enigma to him. He should've known. He should've known when she abruptly left after Maggie announced her pregnancy on the damn yacht the were on. When he found her crying against the railings. Before they got stuck in their current predicament.

What pained him even more was his inability to hate her. She humiliated him, betrayed him, walked all over his trust, but he didn't have a single bone in his body that wished ill on her. That was his greatest damnation, forever worshiping her beyond measure just like he's always had.

She'd mercilessly ripped his heart out of his chest and handed it back to him, yet it still beat for her.

His eyes were shut closed as he attempted to accept the dark reality he had to live through. Forever trapped on an island with the woman he once fought so hard for.

Maybe it wasn't a miracle or an opportunity, maybe it was some sort of punishment he'd been given for whatever sin he'd committed in his lifetime. It was really starting to look that way.

Closing his eyes, Rick attempted in vain to relieve the beautiful dream he'd previously had. But sleep would never come by. His desperation to hold his son, his wife, and their unborn daughter kept him awake throughout the night.

"Carl... 'Chonne..." Rick weakly mumbled, running his shaky hands over his face. Just like the past few days, his only option had come to wandering aimlessly around the jungle like a wild animal until his misery could finally be put out.


August ? 2011. Day 48 ??? Island, Fiji

Three days ago.


"I-I lost him after the divorce, Rick. I lost our baby."

Everything seemed to come to a screeching halt in that moment, the whole world seemed to go quiet. All that could be heard was the labored breathing from Rick, and soft sniffles from Michonne.

Rick's entire body felt ridged and unable to move. His once determined and persistent expression had molded into one of pure horror and confusion.

Opening his mouth to say something, Rick's jaw went slack, then closed once again. He was unable to find any words to describe how he felt towards to the altering information.

"It- it was the p- party... the Thanksgiving dinner party at Rosie and Abe's," Michonne started, "I didn't find out until later, I didn't find out until later, Rick."

"Baby? You-" Rick shook his head and pointed at her, "You lost our... our-?"

Michonne nodded, a trail of tears streaming down her cheeks.

"You kept-" Rick squinted his eyes and tilted his head, "And you kept that from me?"

"I didn't- I didn't know," Michonne sobbed, "I didn't know! It all happened at once.."

"Him?"

"What...?"

"You said- you said him?" He fumed, "You're tellin' me you hid my dead son from me!?"

"Rick, please," Michonne pleaded, "Let me explain!"

"My- my son?" Rick laughed, stumbling back, "My son?"

"Rick-" Michonne attempted to hold his hand, only for him to snatch it back from her hold.

"Just- just listen to me, please?"

"Why? Why would you... Jesus Christ!" The distraught man ran his fingers through his hair, his eyes completely bloodshot.

Michonne shivered and wearily looked at Rick, she had no idea what was going on in his mind. The pulsing veins on his neck and his shaking hands made it clear that he was on the verge of losing it.

"Rick...?" She hesitated from further upsetting him, and hugged herself for a slight feeling of comfort.

"Were you ever going to tell me? If I didn't ask, were you ever going to tell me..?" Rick softly asked, "Huh?"

"I- I don't know.." Michonne sputtered, shaking her head, "It happened to fast- and I- I lost him. I lost him before I even knew him."

"Liar," Rick hissed, "You lied once, why should I believe you?"

"When- when did I lie?!"

"You keeping somethang' so vital and important to the both of us is lyin'!!"

"What- what was I supposed to say!? That you knocked me up and that I-I lost it!? Do you know what I had to go through?!"

"No, Michonne!! You never fucking told me!! If you did, we could've built a life for him! We could've worked somethang' out," Rick's jaw clenched, "We could've been a family."

"Are- are you saying it's my fault?" Michonne glared, wiping her tears from eyes. He'd lit a fuse that she thought she'd finally put out. If he wanted a fight, she was going to give him a fight.

"You wanted this separation. You were willin' to withhold your fucking job opportunities in New York just to humiliate me for six months. You gave up everythang' we had, just to leave me," Rick laughed bitterly, "Why go through all that just for a baby you didn't wanna raise? You knew if I knew, I wouldn't stop at nothang' to have my family back. That I'd fight for you to come back to me. Why go through all that hassle just to still have a piece of me left inside of you?"

"What did you want me to do, Rick? Tell you about him, then come back to King County just so you can be a block away from him? So we can go back to square one? What the fuck would be the point of our separation!?"

"There didn't even need to be one in the fucking first place!!"

"I didn't want that life!" Michonne screamed, "You wanted me to stay with you in that God awful town for the rest of our miserable lives! God knows I would've been one of those damn housewives that seemed to always be following you around!!"

"Who said I wanted you to be that!?" Rick yelled back, "I just wanted my wife to stay with me! Not for her to pack up out of the blue, and fly to New Fucking York for a damn internship!! I couldn't deal being away from you at the academy, let alone several states away!!"

"Don't pay innocent with me, Richard! You could've come with me! I begged you and you refused! You said you'd rather die than leave!! You just couldn't handle the thought of being anything besides a small town hero!"

"That would've been impossible! Do you know how fucking hard it would've been to get a transfer from King County to NYPD!? I graduated from the police academy early, and was a fucking rookie when you left!! I would've been jobless while you were in those damn skyscrapers!! You're fucking selfish!"

"I'm selfish? Me?" Michonne laughed, holding her stomach with her arms, "Do you know what I sacrificed for you? Huh? What I gave up to be with you? Because I was in love? Because I thought I couldn't physically live without you?"

"You didn't love me," Rick said, shaking his head, "No, you never loved me."

Michonne's face scrunched up, "I married you without any doubts when we were still in high school, Rick. Eighteen. We were eighteen, and I was so sure we'd grow up and do our laundry and taxes together. I thought we'd grow old and share glasses and hearing aids together. We were fucking kids who didn't know what the fuck we were doing because we thought we knew what love was. When you asked me that day at the quarry, I thought I was gonna die. I thought... we'd last forever, that you'd be with me for the rest of my life. I was so sure we'd have our own family in a big house together somewhere outside of that place. But no, I felt trapped, Rick. Trapped!"

"You could've said no," Rick disagreed, "You had all the right to say no to me, you decided to be selfish to the both of us by pretending like you'd be with me. All those vows for what? For you to just leave? To not even give us a chance? Your father had a firm that was gonna be directly passed on to you! Do you not remember!? You had 'Harrison and Hawthorne'!! You could've been the damn DA and owner of that place!! But typical Michonne, always wanting somethang' bigger! Somethang' that was worth more than her own fucking husband! We could've had a life together!! Both of us happy with our jobs and each other!!"

"Are you fucking kidding me!?" Michonne laughed, tugging at her hair, "I'm the selfish one!? I'm the one who only thinks for herself and not you!? When I got my acceptance letters from schools I applied to, do you remember what I got into!? Huh!?"

"Brown, Duke, and... Harvard," Rick muttered, closing his eyes.

"Brown, Duke, and fucking Harvard, Rick! And do you know what you said to me when I showed you those fucking letters? I'll give you a hint, you didn't even bother to congratulate me! You didn't even give my hard earned work any fucking acknowledgement!! You remember what you did, right? You complained that I'd fucking leave you to go out of state!! That's what you did! The first thing you thought of was me venturing out in the world without you holding me on a fucking leash!! I could've had everything, Rick! But I stayed! For you! I stayed and I went to a fucking state school!! I could've gone to damn Harvard if I wanted to!!" Her teeth gritted, "I stayed in Georgia for you. I chose you over my father when he gave me an ultimatum. So you will not tell me I was being selfish by choosing you, Rick. If you ever even loved me, you would know how much I sacrificed just to savor a marriage that wasn't ever supposed to happen."

Rick stood there, a empty look in his azure eyes. His pupils had dilated to the point where Michonne couldn't even see the blue irises anymore. He looked defeated. Utterly defeated. Michonne almost felt bad for him.

"It's the same old thing over and over again," Michonne sighed, "Same argument, same conflict, same resolution."

Rick crossed his arms, and bowed his head down.

"It hurt, you know? The whole thing hurt. Those three years, being away from you, us fighting and hating one another were the worst times of my life. Those first few months in Rochester were awful without you. At least in King County I'd run into you at the grocery store or at the pharmaceutical store. But I was all alone."

"You stayed in contact with everyone but me. You didn't miss me."

"Jesus, Rick! How are you going to tell me my own feelings!? And I only stayed in contact with my best friend, who'd you'd end up finding shit out from anyways!!"

"If you missed me you'd come back to me, Michonne," Rick's eyes watered, "You'd- you'd come back to me, and you wouldn't keep my son a secret. And Mike-"

"What about Mike?!"

"You would've never been with him if you missed me."

"My, God," She ran her hands over her face, and rubbed her temples, "Mike saved my life and he was different. He let me do my own thing without suffocating me. He was a breath of fresh air... he was the one for me."

"And I wasn't? Were you just plannin' on raising our son with him if you'd never lost him?" He asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

Michonne stayed silent.

"I thought so."

"You have no right, Rick. You think I didn't know what you were doing after I left? How you'd mess around with women around town, and bring them to events replacing me? Now, I usually wouldn't care what you did with your sex life, but two weeks? Two fucking weeks, Rick? And you were already introducing a chick named Lori to everyone."

"You knew I still wanted you."

"And I was stupid enough to fall for it. Hence why we're having this... discussion in the first place. It was moment of weakness, Rick. We both fucked up that night."

"You told me you loved me. You looked me in the eye and you told me loved me, Michonne."

"I was drunk. We both were."

"That's your excuse!? Being drunk!?" Rick bellowed, "Playin' with me like that? You gave me hope!! I thought we had another chance!!"

"But we didn't!! If I didn't come back, if I didn't bother being in contact with you, wouldn't you think otherwise!?"

"Yeah... I'm starting to understand you now."

"Excuse me?"

Rick grinned, "You said you didn't love me anymore. You denied ever giving us a second chance at repairin' what we had. You said those three years of conflict were the worst years of your life? You didn't bother to acknowledge the good parts. Those four years we were together, the breaks, the summers, the weekends... I can die right now and I wouldn't regret anythang'. But now? Now, I see you for what you really are. What I failed and what I refused to see in the past. You're not the girl I fell love with, you're not the woman I married, and you're for sure not the woman I dreamed of makin' the mother of my children. You're a selfish, self absorbed, narcissistic bitch."

"You're one to talk, Officer Friendly," Michonne glared, "I'm glad I did what I did, and I don't regret any of it. If I could turn back time and have a do over, I would've just let you choke on those sandwiches."

"What you did? You can't take that back, I can't forgive you for that. But now I finally understand. You and I? We're finished. Whatever relationship we have now is over. I'll leave the cabin by dawn."

Michonne's face dropped, "Rick, everything I said regarded the past! It had nothing to do with the future and us being here!"

"But it does," Rick laughed, "I can't even- I can't even look at you right now. I'd rather swim out in that damn ocean before I have to spend another day under the same roof as a liar."

"You don't mean that! We need each other in order to survive this shit!!"

"I was doin' just fine before I hauled ass through the fucking jungle just to find you. Now I understand why you were hidin'... I bet you knew how much of an awful person you are, huh?"

"Rick, what the fuck are you saying?"

"I dunno how much longer we gotta stay on this island for, but until we're rescued I don't wanna have to see your face for a minute longer."

"Rick," Michonne sputtered, "Please!"

"Just," Rick held up his hand, gesturing for her to stop talking, "Just let it go."

"So that's it!? That's how you wanna end this!? You're a fucking coward! We need to stick together!"

"After everythang' you told me? Nah, you're the coward, Michonne. And now where have I heard those words before, huh? 'We need to stick together.' Crazy how the roles reversed so quickly."

"At the rate, you're one step away from saying that his death was my fault too," Michonne scoffed.

"Maybe I am. Maybe it wasn't an accident. I wouldn't be surprised if you killed him yourself," Rick deadpanned, his face didn't spare her a single ounce of compassion. He'd appeared to be heartless.

Michonne's eyes grew tired and shut tightly, salty tears flowing down. That statement drained whatever fight she had left in her. She didn't have any more strength to further argue with him and defend herself. She didn't have to strength to stop him when he left her standing there, disappearing into the tree line of the jungle.

The dying flame on the lit candles, had finally gone out from the harsh winds, leaving Michonne all alone in the dark.


October 2. 2011. Day 52. Laucala Island, Fiji. Pacific Ocean. 3:17 A.M


The air was thick and tense. No one could differentiate on whether it was the pure discomfort of the small aircraft or the high altitude. The suffocating stench of body order and cheap airline transportation wafted through everyone's noses.

Most people looked out the window as best they could, before serving their sentences for as many years as they were given. Most if not everyone had at least a minimum of ten years on the line.

The more sentimental individuals appreciated the foamy white clouds they passed through. The obnoxious ones snapped them out of their daydreams by kicking at their seats. Or making irritating noises.

"Look at that bird," a thin man in his early forties said, pointing out the window, "It's so close by."

"It's just a bird, man," the man next to him sighed, "No big deal."

"It is a big deal, Oscar! Who know when the next time we'll be able to see anything as magical as that?"

Oscar raised his eyebrow and shook his head, "You better get your shit together before we get to the slammer."

"What do you mean?"

"Guys like us... we gotta lock in. They pray on the weak, hunt the ones with hope."

"It can't all be that bad, right?"

"Man," Oscar shook his head, "Fiji was a breeze, but in the states? We're fucked."

"He's right," a voice behind them interjected, "You keep acting like a little girl and you'll get your shit rocked."

"As much as I hate to agree with him, Thomas is right," Oscar sighed, "Are you ready, Axel?"

"Yeah," Axel nodded, "Prolly plenty of birds in the prison."

Thomas laughed while Oscar rolled his eyes in exasperation. Axel didn't seem to have a clue what he was in for.

"I suggest you fairies shut the fuck up," the head prison guard sneered, "I don't tolerate speaking when you're not spoken to."

"Man, who the fuck are you calling a fairy?" Thomas yelled, attempting to get up from his seat. The other inmates got rowdy at the prospect of a fight brewing.

The prison guard bared his teeth and took out his gun menacingly, "Got something else you wanna say to me, boy?"

"Bitch," the inmate muttered under his breath, taking his seat once again.

"If I hear one more son of a bitch open his mouth," the prison guard warned, "You'll be serving solitude for a a month with no recess!"

"Recess? Does he think we're in elementary?" Axel snickered, quiet enough that the man in power couldn't hear.

Oscar just gave him a threatening look. He wasn't planning on digging a deeper hole for himself just because a scrawny little airhead couldn't keep his mouth shut.

"He's right," a silver haired inmate spoke up, "Y'all are a bunch of bitches."

"'Scuse me?" Axel turned around, "Who you calling a bitch?"

"Axel, man, let it go," Oscar muttered.

"You, sport!" The inmate grinned, "What, you gon' let that tiny lil' gun scare ya'?"

"Mr. Blake?" The second guard spoke up, his eyes shifting between the two inmates, "There seems to be an altercation brewing."

"What do you want me to do, Gargulio? I can't scratch your balls for you every time they itch, go handle it," Phillip Blake scoffed putting his gun away, "Today is the day you become a man. You gotta show these junkies who's boss. It ain't gonna be a smooth ride at the prison if you keep bitching."

Gargulio nodded and glared at the men, "Knock it off, inmates!"

"Ooh," an overweight man sitting next to the inmate with the silver hair cooed, "He's a cutie."

"Knock it off!" Blake yelled, "All of you!"

Gargulio gagged when the flirtatious man smiled at him, revealing his blackened teeth. He swore he could smell how putrid his breath was even from a distance.

"How long till we get there?" An inmate with a bandanna asked with a huff.

"Hopefully not very long," The silver haired man sighed, "But savor it, boys. It's gonna be a while before we see anything like this."

"Easy for you to say, Joe. You have fucking window seat. I have sit next to this asshole."

"Leave Len alone," Joe scoffed, "Ole' guy just wanna sleep for a bit."

"What about me?" The overweight man asked, a smile stretched on his face.

"What about you, Dan?"

Dan opened his mouth, only to be interrupted by an announcement from the pilot.

"Attention, all personnel on this flight! Stay calm! The plane will be doing an emergency landing in the water due to technical issues with the engine!"

The passengers all panicked, banging on the seats in front of them. Being restrained on a cramped aircraft forty two thousand feet in the air that was on the verge of collision, wasn't exactly the situation where staying calm was a liable option.

"Inmates!" Blake reassured, "Calm down! It's gonna be fine! Just a bit of turbulence!!"

"This isn't turbulence, man!!" An inmate shrieked.

"At least let us get out of our restraints!!" Another yelled from the back of the plane.

"Fuck!"

"Get these shits off of me!"

"What's going on!?"

"I don't wanna die like this!!"

A number of panicked complaints had been thrown at the two guards accompanying the onboard prisoners. What was thought to be a normal overseas prison transfer, turned into a hellish nightmare for everyone.

The compartments were rattling and the passengers were being pushed around in their seats. If the prospect of American prison wasn't terrifying enough, the idea of dying in a plane crash was the one that took the cake.

"ALRIGHT!! Gargulio, get the keys and unlock their cuffs," Blake ordered, motioning to the rookie that was on his first week of duty.

"But, sir-" Gargulio protested, his wide eyes were painted with fear from the possibility of death from the plane or the hands of a psychotic criminal.

"NOW!!"

Gargulio tensed, his body trembling in anxiety. Removing the master key from his key chain, he started to unlock the restraints from the inmates hands and feet.

"Atta, boy," Blake reassured, "'Tis the least we can do. We all gonna blow up in this fucking shit anyways."

"Man, don't say that!" A prisoner snapped, "I got a missus I gotta get back to! Don't sit here and wish death on me!"

"Too late, fucker!" He laughed manically. He pulled out his gun, and rubbed the snout of the pistol on his head, "It's over."

"Blake?" Gargulio meekly called.

"What?"

Blood seeped from Gargulio's mouth, as a visible crimson stain grew at the base of his chest. Looking down, Gargulio's tearful brown eyes reflected off of the sharp edge jutting out of him.

There was a violent shaking of turbulence, prompting the inmates to further panic and cause a ruckus. The warnings coming from the pilots were ignored, with the noise blocking any audio sound from the intercom. The lights flashed on and off, completely unstable.

Blake stared at Gargulio's lifeless body and then looked at the man responsible. His eye narrowed, as he lifted his pistol and aiming for the man's head.

"I guess you'll be the first to go."

"It's g-going- the plane- is- down-!!" The broken static of the intercom announced. The plane was headed straight down for the floor, no time wasted.

"Better make it quick," the Joe grinned, revealing the bloody broken glass he was holding.

"I think I'm gonna take my sweet ass ti-"

Blake didn't have enough time to get his sentence out before the entire plane was decimated upon impact with the water.


Michonne tossed and turned in the hard twin bed she laid upon. She found it incredibly difficult to find sleep for the third night in a row since the huge blowout with Rick. She'd grown too accustomed to spending the night under the same roof with him. Whether it was sharing a room or sharing a bed. She missed his mere presence.

Groaning, she rubbed her eyes with her fingertips, attempting to cox her brain into triggering some kind of reaction to knock her out for the night.

It'd been three nights since she'd gotten any adequate sleep. Her insomnia keeping her wide awake throughout the past few nights. She suspected it had something to do with the discomfort of the bed, but she didn't seem to have a problem with it until now.

She wasn't sure how much longer she could take it. The continuous process of drifting into unconsciousness then waking up again was starting to take tolls on her health.

She was starting to see and hear things that weren't there. She would catch a glimpse of something then confirm that it was never there to begin with.

So when she heard the distinct sound of an airplane's roar, Michonne silently mourned her lost sanity. But it was persistent. The continuous noise of a jet whining from above her seemed to real to ignore.

Reluctantly, Michonne got up from her bed and walked over to the cracked windows. Her droopy eyes widened at the distant flashes of bright red lights overhead. She couldn't believe what she was seeing, a plane.

The unmistakable sight of a large jet flying over the cabin at least thirty thousand feet above, was no hallucination that Michonne could've conjured up in her mind.

Not even bothering to put on her shoes, Michonne burst out the front door and ran towards the shore of the beach. She ignored the sharp scratches of sticks and rocks on the ground, and ran until she could see the large body of water.

"Rick! R-Rick!!" Michonne called out in utter relief, they'd been found. They were getting off the island. She cheered and jumped up and down at her potential saviors who were headed towards her. Her prayers had been answered by whoever was listening.

Their saving grace was finally arriving to save them from the hell they'd been living in for the past few months. Michonne still couldn't catch any sight of Rick, he needed to come out before he missed the moment where they get rescued. The pure thought of going back to civilization incited a spark of happiness in her.

"RICK!! COME HERE!! WE'RE-" a deafening blast shot, as the plane started accelerating toward the ocean and collided with the water. Next thing she knew, there was an explosion with powerful blasts of smoke and fire coming from the craft.

"Oh, my," Michonne's eyes watered, completely overwhelmed with devastation at the tragedy that unfolded in before her. Her mouth was agape, completely dumbfounded at what had just happen in the span of a few seconds.

Michonne watched in horror at the scene of the explosion. She could feel the pure impact of the blast from far away. Her ears were ringing, trying to balance out the sounds of the pounding in her head and the white noise that came after the explosion.

The sight of the horrific destruction of the large aircraft left her shocked, unable to move an inch. She snapped out of her trance and turned around to look for any signs of life behind her.

She knew he was watching, equally as baffled and horrified at the picture painted in front of them. Their only hope for being saved was gone.

She could hear the splashes of debris falling into the water, and see varying sizes of airplane parts floating aflame from the wreckage. Thankfully the plane didn't get destroyed near any concerning distance from the island. But it was still close enough for Michonne to smell the stench of fire, burning metal, and decay.

Michonne gagged at the thought of the deceased who were once on that plane. The horrific image of body parts washing on shore flooded her mind, triggering a rush of nausea.

The possibility of any survivors didn't manage to cross her mind, as she was sure that everyone had died the second the plane exploded. Any life left on the aircraft would eventually be lost from the lack of sufficient oxygen and possible drowning.

Wiping an escaped tear, she sighed and continued to watch the littered flaming ocean. The contrast between the fire and the night was captivating, but sickening once the disturbing remembrance of fatalities kicked in.

The night air sent chills down her spine, forcing her her to shiver from the cold. How was he surviving this? Spending freezing nights alone with no shelter? She didn't fault him from staying away, but he had to be suffering. No matter how much he wanted to prove a point and continue his resentment.

Could this be it? Was this their fate? Was this a punishment that she was paying for her sins? Giving up all possible hope, Michonne fell to her knees and curled up into a tight ball. An overwhelming blanket of fatigue washed over her, as she drifted off into a unforgiving slumber.


August ? 2011. Day 52 ??? Island, Fiji


Fluttering her eyes open, Michonne awoke completely startled by the sudden blast of wind that blew on her face. Recollection of the earlier hours returned back to her, prompting her to shut her eyes once again. The awful memories plaguing her state of mind.

She'd passed out right after she witnessed the incident with the plane and the unlucky passengers who were on board. She was beyond exhausted to the point where she didn't even bother getting up and going back to her domain.

To her dismay, the sand coating her legs from the previous night was a discomfort she couldn't ignore. Brushing herself off, Michonne looked up at towards the beach and got up in a panic.

The waves had washed up debris from the crashed plane to the shore. Various pieces were recovered such as, destroyed plane seats, broken glass, even a few suitcases. The previously clean beach was littered by scraps and other objects that were lost in the accident.

Her stomach lurched at the idea of finding a severed limb or other identifiable body parts. She prayed she wouldn't have to deal with the grief of seeing a missing part of a deceased person's corpse.

Unaware of anyone else's presence, Michonne's ears perked up at a peculiar sound. A raspy cough. Usually she would've assumed it was Rick, but the cough was too distinctly different. It sounded too... strained. Definitely not the type of cough that would be caused by a cold or a sore throat. It sounded like the cough you'd get if you were choking on something.

"Holy Fuck! I'm alive!!"

Michonne's heart dropped at the voice of an unfamiliar man nearby. Her eyes darted around the beach, until she caught a glimpse of a humanoid figure washing ashore from the foamy water. But there wasn't just one man, there were five. She quickly hid herself from their view, giving her full advantage of observing the men.

Her heart raced, contemplating whether she wanted to go help them or not. The man who spoke up seemed fully conscious, three of them were struggling to come to their full senses, and the last one was completely passed out. Michonne couldn't tell if he was alive or dead.

"They must've survived the crash," Michonne thought, holding her shaking hand above her chest. She was trying as hard as she could to not get a heart attack.

Could this be a new chance of survival? What were the chances of five men surviving a plane crash and washing up on the same island her and Rick were stranded on?

The man also sounded American as well. At least communication wouldn't be a problem. Despite the horrible situation, she felt a small spark of hope for the remaining lives left. Seven people would be a sufficient force to carry on if everyone worked together. It would be perfect.

But something wasn't right. A nagging feeling bothered Michonne deeply as she curiously peered at the men from behind the trees. They weren't exactly the most inviting looking people. One could blame their haggard appearance on the water they'd been floating on and the soot from the smoke, but it wasn't that. They looked brooding, menacing, dangerous. The type of men Michonne would often see her professor convicting in the courtroom during interactive lessons.

Their matching dark blue uniforms weren't helping their case either. They looked too much on unison to look like everyday passengers boarding flight. Something was definitely off.

But she was desperate. She needed support for her own survival and additional hands to help with further insurance that she'd be alive until they were saved. Maybe these men could even prompt Rick into temporarily forgetting about their feud and focus on the bigger picture of adjusting to this new scenario instead.

Her thoughts were jumbled together, not a single train of thought making any sense. Her brain was far too occupied to make any rational decisions for her to think her actions through fully. So without wasting any time, Michonne stepped out from her hiding spot and begun walking towards the men.

Before she could even make it past the edge of the tree line, Michonne's arm was forcefully being pulled into the concealed jungle, and her body was held back in an unforgiving manner. A large hand covered her mouth tightly, muffling any scream or cry that could've escaped her.


Gasping for air, Joe stuck his head out of the water as best he could. The impact of the crash had temporarily numbed his legs, so he depended on his body's ability to float on its own.

His eyes struggled to stay open, as copious amounts of salt water assaulted his face. He could feel the heat of the burning aircraft nearby, and smoke nearly suffocating him. It was a miracle he wasn't blown into bits, narrowly escaping a harrowing death.

He couldn't say the same about the others though, which Joe assumed they'd all died in the the explosion. But his luck would run out if he continued to stay afloat in the nearly freezing ocean. The shell shock and adrenaline was the only thing that was keeping his body maintain a somewhat normal temperature.

"S-Shit," Joe weakly mumbled, coughing up seawater from his mouth. His peripheral vision caught movement besides him, effectively startling the shit out of his disassociating mind.

Straining his eyes, he faintly recognized the stringy blond hair that belonged to the wispy man yapping about birds on the plane. Alex? Allen? His name was something with an A. Whatever became of their fate, Joe was sure he'd kill the man out of pure annoyance if he continued to be a nuisance in the near future.

He wasn't sure if he was hallucinating or not, but Joe swore he saw another head bobbing out of the water. Telling by the bald head, he assumed it was the gentle giant that sat next to the blond man. Oscar, that was his name. The man was a tank, standing around the height of 6'3". Joe didn't mind the idea of him as an ally, but if things got too tense he wouldn't mind taking him out as well.

Turning his head, Joe nearly jumped out of his skin. Two men who were both aflame floated nearby. One clearly dead with a broken neck, and the other one with a missing arm that appeared to be torn off. He was so caught up in the aftermath of the tragedy, that he forgot that people had died.

He laughed to himself, unfazed by the disturbance that should've made him nauseated. The mental image of the dead man just further fueled his need of survival. No additional added trauma gained from witnessing the brutal scene.

"SHIT!" He yelled, feeling a hand grip tightly around his shoulder, nearly pulling him underwater.

"J-Joe!" It was Dan. His bloated face had turned dangerously red to the point where Joe thought he'd burst a vessel.

"You- you f-fat motherfucker!!" Joe sputtered, angered at the unwanted contact and nearly being submerged into the vast ocean.

"You're alive!!"

"You- you best get your hands off of me, asshole!!"

Dan coughed up more water and knocked back out without giving Joe a response. Joe recoiled in disgust at the sight of his visibly rotten teeth once his jaw went slack.

On the other side of Dan, Joe saw his hand gripping something, or rather someone else. Holding in his breath, Joe dove underwater and saw Dan's stubby fingers digging into someone's arm.

Even with the blurry and dark vision, Joe could see the distinct outline of a black and white bandana. Tony. Joe didn't particularly care for either men, but they'd proven their loyalty to him back at the Fijian holding facility.

They'd all gone to the slammer for vastly different things, and had no previous relationships with one another. Their bond was further from any brotherhood that he'd been apart of. But they all had the same mentality. See, want, claim, take.

It was easy scaring off the other inmates back at the facility. There were five of them in total, Joe, Tony, Len, Dan, and Lou. Len had died on the plane crash and Lou had gotten killed in the showers by the rookie guard with the strange name. The same man Joe had to kill on the plane in retaliation for an unjust murder against one of his fellow claimers. And now it was the three of them left, if Tony came up above water anytime soon. That was if he was even alive.

Their fate only laid in the hands of the ole' man upstairs if he spared them from retribution for their sins. And if all five of them made it out alive, maybe they'd be given a hefty reward for surviving. Or even a lesser sentence in exchange for not suing the airlines. Either way they'd scored.

Or maybe they'd wash up on some remote island, further testing their already brutal existence. That was the most likely scenario, as Joe's eyes faltered in both confusion and exhaustion at the faint outline of a stretch of land a mere dozen yards away.

"Take that, fuck-faces," Joe chuckled, before eventually drifting into a state of unconsciousness.


The split second of pure terror disappeared once Michonne caught a glimpse of her potential attacker. It was Rick. Only, his face was pulled into a somber expression, void of an friendliness and warmth. But it wasn't hate driven, it was fear.

He looked disheveled and wild, similar to when Michonne had found him wandering around the forest. His blue iris' were dark, completely surrounded by red veins that wove through his usually white scleras.

Despite her relief of seeing him again, Michonne's heart felt as though it was about to jump from her chest to her throat. He held her in a compromising position where her back was pressed against his body, and his forearm was wrapped directly around her heaving breasts.

The warmth of his tight palm covering her mouth gave her a rush of adrenaline, as an overwhelming sensation of light headed dizziness took over. They'd never exactly had an adventurous sex life, it was always plain and simple. There was never the need to "spice their life up". The sheer strength of their love had always gave them both pure fulfillment without any need for extra necessities in the bedroom.

Michonne knew in that sense they'd always been lucky, finding someone who could take you to the point of peak human ecstasy with just a simple look and acts of service. She'd always been grateful for it. But the raw eroticism that came out of him restraining her in that manner felt like a sudden punch to the gut.

She would never admit it, but Michonne had fantasies regarding Rick taking control of their activities in the bedroom. She would often eye the handcuffs perched up on their shared dresser in curiosity, imagining what it'd be like if she was in them. And with him being an authoritative figure, she didn't have much trouble using those thoughts to relieve herself on lonely nights.

She was secretly grateful she wasn't able to say anything, otherwise she would've let out a sigh of pleasure. She hadn't even thought twice about his sudden aggression, too caught up in her own dirty fantasies. For someone who supposedly disliked him so much, she sure didn't have an issue with him handling her in such a degrading manner.

"Now, I want you to listen to me, and I want you to listen to me real good, you hear?" Rick growled. Michonne's eyes instinctively closed at the sensation of his warm breath fanning over her neck and the deep rumbling of his chest.

"I don't know what you were thinkin' trynna walk up to those assholes like that, but you won't do that ever again. Understand?"

Michonne's eyebrows furrowed, as she nodded briefly. She was far too distracted by the heavily pronounced southern drawl that came out of him when he was upset about something.

"You see those blue jumpsuits they're wearin'? Yeah, those are criminals. That plane we saw was most likely transferrin' them to another country. But that's not my point," Rick's eyes searched the uncovered half of Michonne's face. He knew they were prone to arguments, but he desperately needed her to understand that this wasn't an arguing matter. It was life or death.

"There's five of them and two of us," he started, nodding his head slowly, "Okay, and they're gonna find out there's people on this island eventually. So we can't hide from them for long."

Michonne's eyes become glassy. Rick couldn't differentiate between whether it was the lack of oxygen she was receiving, or emotions stirring from the new shift in their already difficult lives. He quickly removed his hand, and sheepishly watched as she took several deep breaths.

But instead of having any sort of response, she resumed her normal breathing pattern and looked at him with an undefinable expression. He suspected she hadn't fully processed the actual dire situation they were both in.

"Michonne," Rick sternly snapped, "Hey."

Michonne nodded absentmindedly, "Yeah. We can't hide from them forever."

Frustrated from her lack of an appropriate reaction, Rick grabbed her shoulders and pushed her against a nearby tree. His face was mere inches away from her's, and his hands held her arms tightly in place providing no room for escape. Michonne's knees buckled. She'd never been manhandled before, but it wasn't something she was against for future use.

"I don't know what the hell is goin' on with you, but you best better be prepared to hear what I'm about to say, Michonne," Rick glared, hands tightening their grip.

"God..." She thought to herself, biting her tongue to keep herself from audibly moaning. The intensity he held with his gaze alone was enough to make her lose her mind completely. What was wrong with her?

"Those five men... if they find you, you're good as dead. Okay, these are dangerous people who you need to stay away from. If they catch you, they will most likely prolong your life for their own benefit. I've seen men like them up close, Michonne. They're ruthless, and vile, and evil beyond evil. They're gonna hurt you in any and every form imaginable. They're gonna have you wishin' you were dead," his voice shook, completely dark and foreboding.

Michonne's doe eyes shifted anxiously, as she took in the severity of his words. It reminded her of those death warnings on hazard signs that would steer away even the ones bravest among the crowd.

"Say somethang'," he coxed, tilting down his head to catch her wandering eyes.

Michonne didn't know what she was suppose to feel. On one hand, her pussy was throbbing from the not-so gentle way Rick had held her. It'd been a while since he ever touched her in any manner of that sort besides the emotional kiss on the beach.

And on the other, her head was scrambling trying to process the idea of her life being in danger from men who were most likely going to rape and kill her if they knew she was on the island with them. What was she she supposed to say?

"What am I supposed to do?" She asked, her face pulled into a determined glare.

Rick was pleasantly surprised to hear her voice in a steady tone. She didn't sound helpless or utterly terrified, instead she sounded like she was prepared to take whatever action needed to keep herself alive.

All his resentment towards her had temporarily dissipated following the new danger lurking around. He'd already made her a promise, he'd protect her no matter what. He wasn't about to give up on that vow.

A bead of sweat dripped from his damp hair, as he looked back at the men on the beach. They were short on time, every second closer to getting caught by them.

"Here," Rick picked up his machete off the floor and handed it to Michonne. Her fingers delicately brushed over the handle, eventually gripping it tightly.

"You use this," he urged, "You use this whenever you need. If they come anywhere near you, if they touch you, if you even feel in danger, use it."

Michonne's face hardened, "Okay."

"Good. Listen to me carefully, you're going to go back to the cabin and take everythang' you need. Food, water, sheets, supplies, anythang' worth usin'. Then, I want you to destroy any evidence of you livin' there. Don't make it too obvious, just enough to make it seem like only one person lived there. Take any and all of your clothes, don't leave anythang' behind. You're gonna go to the forest and hide. No matter what you do, don't get caught. I'll check on you periodically when I can, but still don't come lookin' for me. Find a cave or a hidden area to sleep at, and make sure you're always, always armed. Avoid game since you don't want fire smoke waftin' in the air. Stick to fruits and save the seeds for later usage. We don't know how long these fellas gonna be here. But whatever you do, no matter the circumstances, no matter what happens, don't come to the shore. That's gonna be their safest bet when it comes to a spot they can hang out at. You know this island better than any of us, so go as deep as you can. Climb a tree if you have to, just don't get caught," Rick instructed, intensely staring into her.

Michonne nodded, and gave him a pitiful smile, "We were so close."

"Michonne..."

"That plane... it could've been our ticket out. And now we're stuck here with a bunch of criminals," she shook her head in disbelief, "I'm scared, Rick."

Rick had a moment of mental conflict, before letting her arms go and giving her an awkward pat on the shoulder. Without thinking twice, he slide his hand up to the slope of her neck and leaned in, leaving a feverish kiss on the corner of her mouth, "We'll survive this. You'll survive this."

Michonne shuddered at his tender touch, and nodded. She was convinced he could hear her rapid heartbeat from the base of her chest. She wanted to stay near him forever. She swore to herself that she'd make everything right, after this whole ordeal was over. She was going to win her husband back.

"Rick, I'm so sorr-" she was cut off by him instantly.

"Shh," he traced his thumb over her bottom lip and dragged it down gently, slightly leaving it agape.

"Tell me when this is all over, alright?"

She nodded.

"Take care of yourself, 'Chonne," Rick whispered, he was still close enough for Michonne to feel his breath fan over her ear. He pulled back and gave her a determined look, Michonne had no idea what he was thinking.

"Wait," impulsively, she grabbed his forearm and searched his face, "What are you going to do?"

His eyes grew hard, while his expression pulled into a glare. Michonne was met with a look she'd never seen before, a look she felt unsettled looking at. Rick's upper lip twitched, his agitation prevalent.

Turning back to the now conscious men, Rick's eyes shone in blood lust. They were running out of time rapidly. Unbeknownst to Michonne, his hands fidgeted with the dagger he snagged from cabin. Tilting his head, a small smirk formed on his face.

"I'm gonna kill 'em."


A/N: Okay, things definitely escalated. This chapter is definitely a lot more angsty than the others lmao. I mean geez... the dream sequence? I hope this chapter cleared up some things regarding the reason for their failed marriage. Some things were intentionally left untold for future purposes *wink wink* Hopefully they'll get a resolution under these... new circumstances. Also ngl Ik they're both sad and shit but they're both kinda overreacting lmaooo ahh young angsty love. Anyways, I hope the story isn't a bore and you guys are enjoying it so far :) I keep telling myself to finish the story but I keep staying loyal to the OG blue lagoon movies lmao. What would you like to see in the next installment? What did Michonne mean by Mike saving her life? How did she lose the baby? Are Rick and Michonne ever going to reconcile? what's going to happen between the newcomers and Richonne? Are Rick and Michonne ever gonna be rescued? Why did Michonne wait so long to tell Rick about her secret? Why did the plane crash? Feel free to leave your theories and thoughts in the reviews! I love and thrive off of them istg. Stay tuned for the next chapter of Blue Lagoon!

-Starlight

p.s. Ik I keep making empty promises I can't uphold in regards to updating my other stories so I'm just gonna admit that I'll be updating which ever story I feel motivated to write. What I know for sure is that I'm gonna focus on finishing this story before working on the other ones like Red Canary. My main reason is the length of the story since this isn't supposed to be a very long one. I wanna put my all for Red Canary and really delve into the lore of the many characters. As for my story 'Andre' I'm not really planning on updating it often but that may change depending on my motivation.