The Grimes home was cozy. Soft instrumental jazz played on a small record player procured from the Commonwealth. Smells of a satisfying dinner still lingered in the air. An unexpected storm's crash of thunder felt more soothing than a prelude to more sinister weather. The rhythmic beat of the rain echoed through the house.

Michonne hummed along with the music. She recognized the song playing but couldn't quite place it. She thought it was maybe Nat King Cole or Ella Fitzgerald—one of those old standards her mother used to love.

A small smile seemed permanently affixed to her lips as she moved around the kitchen, pulling out her needed bowls, a skillet, and drinking glasses. The day had been another lazy one without much to do. Those types of days had seemed like a relic of the past, but ever since her husband came back to their family, the urgency of keeping everything safe wasn't driving her anymore. She'd found more opportunities to relax.

It could be their partnerships with the Commonwealth and the Civic Republic, which kept them well-equipped in food and weapons, that made her feel more relaxed, but she knew it was deeper than that.

It was Rick.

Seeing, touching, talking to, and making love to her husband every day brought her a happiness that couldn't be quantified. She'd told him she only felt safe with him, but she also only felt like her whole self with him. It was as if she'd been holding her breath for nearly a decade, and she could finally breathe, finally be happy.

In her past life, before the world ended, she'd never defined herself by a man, thinking she couldn't be her whole self without him. But that was before she knew a love like she had with Rick. A crazy love that probably only made sense to them. A love that defied space and time and seemed curated by the heavens.

Michonne's smile widened as deep laughter floated down from upstairs from a father and son, mixed with a melodic giggle from a daughter. She could spend a full day watching him be a father to their kids and never tire or become bored. The beautiful life they'd created together was finally back in play.

"You said we were having popcorn tonight. I thought you needed a microwave to make popcorn. At least that's what Katie at the Commonwealth told me?"

Lost in her thoughts, Michonne hadn't heard Judith come downstairs. She stood behind her mother, leaning against the counter, wearing lavender pajamas about one size too big. She was barefoot, except for her white socks, as she watched her mother turn on the stove and pour oil into a skillet.

"I've never told you about the old-school way of making popcorn on the stove?" Michonne looked over her shoulder at her daughter. She was comfortable in her white tank, lounge pants, and one of her husband's button-down shirts.

Judith shook her head. "No, don't think so."

"I must be slipping. Baby girl, when your mama was just a little kid back in the day, my mother used to buy jars of popcorn kernels to cook on the stove. She refused to buy microwave popcorn. Said it wasn't the same. The first time I tried the microwave version, I had to agree. It had nothing on my mom's popcorn. She made all kinds of flavors: cheese, caramel, put in a bit of garlic powder sometimes, and lots of butter."

"Is that what you're making now? Your mom's recipe?" Judith stood on her tiptoes, watching her mom.

"Unfortunately, no. But a second-best option. I took some of the corn from your father's crops and dried them out for a couple of days, put some oil in this skillet, and I'm about to," Michonne lifted her fingers in air quotes, "pop them. It won't be the same, but it'll be a nice snack for Family Fun Night."

Judith moved closer to the stove to watch her mother's process. She smiled as a long-forgotten memory popped into her head.

"I remember our Family Fun days back before," Judith said. "I was only a toddler, but I remember you and Dad chasing me around and playing swords. I missed that when Dad was gone."

"Oh, baby girl," Michonne's smile dropped for the first time that night. She pulled Judith into a hug. "I'm sorry I didn't keep up with our Family Fun Days after your father was gone. Or a lot of other things, too. I was so focused on keeping you and your brother safe I didn't make your childhoods as fun as I should have."

Judith squeezed her mother back. "You don't have to be sorry, Mom. You've always been a great mom. There's never been any doubt about how much you love RJ and me. Dad, being gone, kinda wrecked everything. But he's back now. We're whole again." She laid her head on her mother's shoulder. "Well, except for Carl."

Michonne smoothed her daughter's hair down, her eyes taking on the familiar sadness when thinking of Carl. "Your big brother would have been so proud of you. To see you out here being a leader already. Just so proud."

"He would have been proud of you too. How you found Dad and brought him home."

Michonne kissed her on the forehead. "Let's continue to make him proud. Do great things in his memory. It's what he deserves."

Judith nodded and kissed her mom on the cheek. "Deal."

"Okay, our popped corn should be done. Let's put it in one of those big glass bowls," Michonne said.

She watched her daughter as she thought about her own childhood and her relationship with her mother. A ghost of a smile traced her lips as she remembered how she had told her mother she'd never have any children. What a kick her mother would get out of her now: a mother to four children. Her hand caressed her still flat stomach; if her husband had any say in it, one more would be soon on the way.

Michonne closed her eyes and quickly looked up at the ceiling, hoping that the heavens were somewhere past their walls, high up in the sky, and her mother was there with her two oldest boys.

"Mom, are you pregnant?"

Michonne's eyes shot open. "What?"

Judith pointed to where Michonne's hand still rested on her belly. "You've been rubbing your stomach a lot lately."

Michonne looked down and then quickly removed her hand. "You're too perceptive for your own good."

"So, it's true. You're pregnant." Judith's voice was tinged with excitement.

"No, not pregnant, sweetie. But your father and I have discussed possibly expanding our family." Michonne moved closer to gauge her daughter's reaction.

Judith shrugged. "I mean, it makes sense."

"Why do you say that?"

"Dad's been without us for years and missed out on so much. It makes sense that he'd want another baby."

Michonne pulled out one of the bar stool chairs around the kitchen island and gestured to Judith to sit. Once her daughter was settled, Michonne sat on the stool next to her. A glass pitcher of fresh lemonade stood in the middle of the island. She poured the drink into the four glasses, needing a moment to get her thoughts together.

"You know," she handed one of the glasses of lemonade to Judith, "that doesn't mean he isn't downright ecstatic that he's here now with you and RJ. A new baby isn't a replacement for what he missed out on. It's just adding more love to our family."

Judith nodded before taking a sip of her drink. "I know, Mom. I can see how much Dad loves all of us every time he looks at us."

"He is full of heart eyes all the time, isn't he?"

Michonne smiled and thought about Rick barely letting them out of his sight these days. He always wanted to know their whereabouts. Not in an overbearing way, but in a way that he never wanted to miss another second of their lives.

Judith laughed. "Definitely." She shrugged again. "It's obvious Dad really loves being a dad. So, I'm expecting a few more siblings."

Michonne held up her hand. "Hold on now. I don't know about a few, but one more is definitely on the horizon. I promise you, sweetie, you'll know when and if I get pregnant. We wouldn't keep that from you."

"I mean it would be cool to be a big sister again."

"You're the best at it. I'm so proud of how you looked out for your brother when I was gone." Michonne wiped at her eyes as they started to water. She still held on to some guilt about leaving her children for so long but was also happy at how their sibling relationship seemed even closer than it was before.

"Mooooom, don't get sentimental." Judith's flushed cheeks betrayed her annoyance act.

Michonne tapped her on the nose. "Learn to take a compliment. You're too much like your father that way."

"Yes, ma'am," Judith said. "Do you make Dad take compliments, too?"

"I certainly do." Michonne stood. "Now, let's get the rest of these snacks ready. It's almost time for the fun."

"Oh, speaking of fun. I finally got around to finishing the book you brought me back."

"Ramona and the Pest? How did you like it?"

Judith filled a bowl with homemade potato chips while her mother cut some strawberries and blueberries. "I love Ramona," she said.

Michonne smiled and nodded "I knew you would. I saw myself in her growing up, and I see you in her, too."

"The one thing I didn't like was how the teacher treated her, though."

"Well, sweetie, you must look at it from the teacher's perspective, too. She tried to keep decorum in the classroom, but Ramona was disruptive. Ultimately, the teacher was learning a valuable lesson like Romana. The teacher needed to learn to let her be herself without disrupting the whole class."

"Is that why she reminds you of me?"

Michonne smirked. "Mmhmm. You're not disruptive, but you have a strong personal moral code that no one can deter you from. You're an independent like Romana. Like the teacher I also had to learn how to allow you to be your own person while still protecting you. Because no matter how capable you are, you'll always be my baby girl."

"Mom, I'm practically an adult now."

Michonne scoffed as she placed the bowls of snacks on trays. "Not, nearly."

"At least, practically a teenager."

"I don't know how I feel about that either." Michonne placed her hand on her heart and shook her head. "I remember when you were a toddler and used to sit on these bar stools and watch me work while playing with your seashells," she sighed. "Now you're almost as tall as me."

"I remember that too, Mom. I liked watching you work. Always wanted to be like you."

Michonne caressed the side of Judith's face. "And there's no greater honor for a mother."

Judith went back to preparing the snacks. "We're getting too sentimental again, Mom."

Michonne lifted her hands in surrender. "Duly noted." Her smile was back as she wiped down the counters. Her daughter brought her so much joy. The cries of her as a baby back at the prison used to cut into her heart like a knife as she still was grieving the passing of her first baby boy. Now, she didn't ever want to imagine a life without her daughter in it.

"You know, Mom, we should write a book together."

Michonne regarded her daughter with a puzzled yet intrigued smile. "Are you serious, baby girl?"

"Yes, Mom! Think about it. I love to write and read books. You love to write and read. You wrote a whole charter by yourself. We can write a book that generations to come can read. Something like Ramona but for this world. Kids need something fun and new to get out of the harshness of this world for a little bit."

"That's not a bad idea. The next generations will need something new not from the past world."

"Exactly, Mom. Eugene's fixing the printing press at the Commonwealth. We could print lots of copies and distribute them to all the communities."

With the carefree, lazy days she's been experiencing, Michonne thought reviving some of her old creative pursuits wasn't a bad idea. If the world were ever to thrive again, it would need art.

"Ok, we'll do that," she conceded to her daughter. "You start outlining, and we'll work on it."

"Work on what?" Rick walked into the kitchen with RJ trailing not far behind him. Both were fresh from cleaning up after spending the evening farming and tossing the baseball around.

"Me and Mom are going to write a book together."

Rick raised an eyebrow and smiled at his favorite girls. He kissed his daughter on the forehead, then gave his wife two soft kisses on the lips. He wrapped his arm around her waist to pull her close.

"A book, huh," he said, looking from his wife to his daughter.

"Yes, a book. Your daughter has talked me into it," Michonne said.

"I think that's a great idea." He gestured to their son. "Maybe Junior can do the illustrations."

Michonne smiled at their baby boy. "Not a bad idea. Your drawings are always so good, baby."

"Dad says I could be an architect." He beamed up at his father.

"Somebody's gotta keep building the new world. Might as well be you, Junior."

Michonne squeezed her husband tighter and smiled up at him. "Might as well." Rick gave her another peck on the lips.

She reluctantly pulled away from him. "Ok, everyone, grab a bowl. We have lots of snacks and lemonade. Family Fun Night is officially activated. Let's play some Uno."

RJ laughed as Rick picked another Draw 4 card. "You're really bad at playing Uno, Dad."

Rick gave his son an embarrassed grin and shook his head. "Yeah, not my best work."

"He was really bad at Go Fish last week, too," Judith said.

Michonne and Rick sat side-by-side on the couch, hips touching. Their legs were intertwined as their feet rested on the coffee table. The children sat on the floor at each end of the coffee table.

Michonne hid her smile with her cards. "Oh, come on. Don't pick at your dad like that. I think he's more of a Poker player."

Rick reached over and grabbed his wife's hand. "Thanks for always having my back."

"We have to stick together. These two are just too smart and too talented. They will be miles ahead of us in a few years."

Rick beamed at his children. "Oh, probably not even a few years. I'm sure by next month. Your Dad is old. I'm going to be losing my mind and my hair soon."

Michonne scoffed and ran her free hand through his hair. "Oh, don't put that bad luck on your hair. I can handle you losing your mind, but not the hair."

Rick grabbed her hand and kissed it. "I'll will my hair never to shed one follicle just to make you happy."

Michonne laid her head on his shoulder. "My hero."

Rick smiled at his wife. "Well, since RJ is holding one card, and I have about 13, I say the game is over. What's next?"

"We should pick a game Dad can win. Maybe Checkers?" Judith said to her brother.

RJ gathered all the Uno cards and placed them back in the box. "No, I beat Dad at Checkers yesterday. Let's play Jenga."

Judith shook her head. "If we're trying to help Dad win, we can't play that either. We played on Tuesday, and he toppled everything over within minutes."

RJ rested his head on his hand and focused on his father. "We could play Scramble. Can you spell Dad?"

Michonne couldn't hold her laughter in anymore. Both parents had been watching their kids, amused by their exchange.

"You kids need to stop picking on your father," she said through her fits of giggles. "He's your dad, but he's my husband, and I cannot have you all talk about him like that."

Rick's smile stretched wide. "No, it's okay, Sweetheart. Let them keep it up." He kissed Michonne on her temple, then leaned forward on the couch. "I'll have you both know I won the King County third-grade spelling bee many years ago."

Judith wrinkled her nose. "What's a spelling bee?"

"Wow, I never thought about kids not knowing what spelling bees are these days," Michonne said. She locked eyes with Rick. "Everything is so different compared to how we grew up."

Rick patted her knee. "It sure is."

"Are y'all going to tell us what a spelling is? It's not about a talking bee that spells, is it?" Judith asked.

"No, sweetie," Rick said. "It's a competition in school where one student at a time goes on stage to spell a word the judges give them. If we spell it right, we go to the next round. Spell it wrong, and you're out. The last one standing who spelled everything right is the winner."

RJ perked up "That sounds fun."

"It does," Judith said, agreeing with her brother. "We should have one here in Alexandria and the Commonwealth."

"We could win prizes," RJ said. "Like one of Mama's strawberry pies."

Michonne sat forward, mimicking Rick, and held her hands out to their children. Each grabbed one of her hands. "You kids are amazing. So excited about a spelling bee. I'll talk to the teachers tomorrow and see what we can do."

"Woohoo!" Judith yelled.

"Thanks, Mama," said RJ.

Rick sat back on the couch. "We do have some genius kids."

"They're going to make this whole world theirs. Now, let's get the scramble board out so we can beat your Dad."

Rick playfully threw a pillow at Michonne. "Hey, I thought you were supposed to be on my side."

Michonne caught the pillow and put it behind her head as she lay back on the couch. "Oh, I am, Baby. But sometimes you gotta go with the odds."

Rick woke up with a stiff neck and a heavy child sprawled on top of him. He bent to kiss RJ on the forehead and gently positioned his son so his head would lie on one of the couch cushions. The boy didn't stir. His soft breaths conveyed a deep sleep. Rick took a moment to watch his son. Michonne was right, he did look so much like him, but he had his mother's spirit, her intelligence. Both of their kids did. Carl had so much of Michone in him, too. He meant every word when he told his wife he was lucky to find her. She was everything to her and their children.

He stood to stretch, trying to work out the kinks in his body. If he could be grateful for anything about being in the CRM, it would be that his military training probably kept his body healthier and stronger than it would have been otherwise at his age.

He shook his left arm to try to wake it up. All these years later, he can still occasionally feel phantom pains in his missing hand. He was so desperate to get back home he knew that chopping off his hand, and hoping to get back to Michonne somehow, didn't make sense. But being away from his wife made even less sense, so he did it anyway, praying for a miracle because he couldn't imagine another second of being without her and their family.

Now, he was finally back with them, thanks to Michonne. He poured his heart out to his wife about how much he loved her and how much she meant to him every night, every morning, and several times in between. But the words still felt inadequate. Even telling her she's the love of his life didn't quite scratch the surface of the depth of his feelings.

He watched his family as they lay asleep on the couch and sighed at the picture-perfectness of it all. His face should be sore from how much he'd been smiling lately. Judith's body curled up next to Michonne, and his wife had a protective arm around their daughter, her head resting on the back of the couch. RJ's legs stretched onto Michonne's lap. They looked peaceful and happy, from stomachs full of snacks and hours of laughter.

Rick's smile slowly dropped into a frown as the familiar tightness in his chest took hold of him. It's been weeks since he had a panic attack. He thought he was finally done with them as he took deep breaths, trying to stave it off. His eyes filled with tears as a strangled sobbed choked out of him. It still sometimes didn't seem real to him. His mind sometimes tried to tell him he wasn't home for real; he was still dreaming.

It couldn't be real that he woke up every morning and went to bed every night, so happy with his wife in his arms, their kids safe and sound in their beds.

He needed some fresh air to help bring him back to reality. He quietly walked out to the patio to avoid disturbing his family. Sometimes, the quietness of the community sounded so loud to Rick. The chaos of living at the CRM had permeated his system. He still had to get used to not living in an environment with neverending noise anymore. Guards were at the gates of Alexandria, but other than that, not a soul was around. The community was peaceful.

He didn't know how long he had been out there, breathing in the air and calming himself down, but he wasn't surprised when he heard the back door open and footsteps approaching him. She had an innate ability to know when he needed her. Her hands raked through his hair, then moved down to his chest while her lips found his temple. He grabbed her arm and pulled her onto his lap.

"You, ok, baby?" She asked. A yawn followed as she made herself comfortable in his lap.

"Yeah, I'm ok." He kissed her softly on the lips, then kissed her neck.

"Uh uh. No, you're not," Michonne shook her head. "Tell me, what's really wrong?"

Rick sighed and scratched at his eyebrow with his thumb. "Why do I always forget you know me too well? I woke up and saw y'all there on the couch and had another panic attack. Still hard to believe sometimes that I'm home."

Michonne nodded. "I figured it was something like that. I sometimes can't believe it either."

His thumb rubbed small circles on Michonne's hip. "I can't remember being happier than I was tonight. The joy I get from you and our children," he shook his head, "I don't have the words. I was lonely for so long, Michonne."

She tucked one of his unruly curls behind his ear. "What did our daughter tell you when we got back?"

Rick smiled at the memory. "I never have to be alone again."

Michonne looked deep into his eyes as she caressed his beard. "And what did you say right before we took out the CRM?"

He tightened his arms around her waist. "That was the last time we'll be apart."

"There you go." She gestured with her hand in the air. "This is permanent, and it's not going anywhere. We're not going anywhere."

"Promise?" He asked.

"Promise."

He kissed her with long, lingering kisses. Feeling himself calm down even more with each brush of her lips. She was his rock, his safety, his sanctuary from the brokenness of the world. They smiled at each other as they pulled away. She tucked her head in the space between his neck and shoulder.

"So, you're saying I shouldn't stay up all night watching you sleep and praying that you don't fade away."

She patted his hand. "That's what I'm saying. You can get your sleep, Rick."

They sat in silence as his hand moved from her hip, caressing down her thigh and back up again. She twirled one of his curls around her finger.

"If you're having trouble sleeping," she said, breaking the silence. "I can tell you a story."

"Well, you are a future author," he said. "Practice your first novel on me."

Michonne laughed. "I'll tell you the story of Daito and The Brave Man. It's a story of a woman who was lost and then found everything she wanted and more."

He kissed her again. "Sounds intriguing."

"Oh, it is. There was a woman who lost everything. The only thing she could do was roam around the woods and punish herself because she thought she was a monster and didn't deserve any more good in life. But fate had a different story for her. Fate made her find a basket full of baby formula she knew someone desperately needed. So she limped her way to a prison, and there she locked eyes with a man, and her body vibrated with a charge. She didn't know what it meant. She'd never felt anything like that before. Maybe she thought it was because she'd been shot, and walkers were starting to notice her. But it wasn't that. Even with all the chaos around her, she couldn't tear her eyes away from that man. After she passed out and woke up, she and the man couldn't stop giving each other these long stares. He was a bit hostile." Rick pulled her closer and kissed her shoulder. "But she didn't take it personally. She could somehow sense he was going through something. Because she'd been going through something, too. Then she saw him with his new baby girl, and she could tell he was a good man. She knew she was where she was supposed to be, even if he didn't know it yet."

"He was a bit crazy at the time," Rick said. "But he felt it too and didn't know what the fuck was going on."

Michonne laughed. "Yes, it was very strange to her, too. So, to continue the story, they fought and defeated an enemy together and, in the process, became friends. The woman soon looked forward to each day talking with him and his son who became so special to her. It took her no time to love the son like he was her own. Though she wasn't conscious of it yet, she loved the father, too. More and more every time she saw him. And fell completely head over heels when he ripped out a man's throat to protect his son."

"To protect her, too," Rick said. "That's what did it for her?"

"Yes, because she knew how big his heart was, but now she knew he could tap into another part of him to do anything to protect those he loved. She knew no better man. Though she still wasn't ready to admit she was in love."

"I have it on good authority that the man was in love, too," Rick said.

"Then things finally quieted down for a minute. They could finally come together in a way they had been brewing since seeing each other through that gate at the prison. They loved each other so much. Their love never wavered through all the tragedy and hard times; it grew stronger. Even when they were apart for so long, they still loved each other just as much."

"He loved her so much over those years," Rick said as he closed his eyes. "He still loved her so, so much."

"As did she," Michonne traced a finger over the scars on his shoulder through his t-shirt. "But fate can't be denied, so she found him again and brought him back home, and now they get to love on each other every second of every day."

He gave her behind a light tap. "There's nothing else the man would rather do."

Michonne wrapped her arms around his neck. "Same for the woman."

"How does the story end?"

"It doesn't. Their love is eternal, everlasting. They will love each other through this time and the next one after."

"Because their love can't be denied."

Michone gave him a full, big smile. "No, it can't."

Rick closed his eyes and tried to sear the moment into his brain. The quietness, the cool breeze, Michonne sitting on his lap with her head on his shoulder, his arms around her waist. When he took his last breath, this moment was what he wanted his last thought to be.

The jazz standards still played on the record player in the living room. Sounds of the music could be heard on the back porch. Another familiar tune played that Michonne couldn't place until Rick started humming along to the tune.

"I know that song," Michonne said. "I think it's Frank Sinatra."

"Fly Me To The Moon," Rick said. He held Michonne's waist as he stood them both up, then grabbed her hand. "We never did have our first wedding dance." He pulled her close as they swayed to the music.

Michonne smiled as they gazed into each other's eyes. "The woman never would have known the man she locked eyes with at the prison was such a romantic."

"He didn't know either until he met her." Rick spun his wife around and dipped her. Her giggles mixed in with the music.

"Fill my heart with song," Rick started to sing softly as he continued to dance with his wife. "Let me sing forevermore, You are all I long for, All I worship and adore, In other words, please be true, In other words, I love you…"

Their lips met again in a kiss. His tongue found hers, and his hand moved from her waist to trace the curves of her body. They swayed as the kiss became more urgent, more of a lifeline than breathing to them. He pressed her closer to his body as the song ended and another began.

Michonne pulled away first. "Come on, Brave Man. We better go back inside before we put on a show out here," she said.

Rick chuckled as he tried to catch his breath. "Right. I'm already still breaking news around here. Don't need to add another scandal to that."

"Exactly."

They strolled back into the house hand in hand. Judith and RJ were still sound asleep on the couch.

"We probably should get the kids upstairs," Michonne said. "You take the Little Brave Man, and I'll get Shoto."

"You got it, Daito."

Rick gently lifted his son in a fireman's carry while Michonne roused their daughter and helped march the still half-asleep child up the stairs.

Rick stopped her as she guided Judith toward the girl's room. "Wait, Michonne. Let's let them sleep in our room tonight."

"Will that help you sleep well tonight?" Michonne asked.

Rick nodded. "It would."

Michonne smiled at him. "Okay, then. We'll do that."

They laid their kids in the middle of their bed. The kids fell back to sleep without protest. Rick tucked the covers around them and lay on his side of the bed as Michonne lay on hers. Rick reached over the children to grab Michonne's hand and intertwined their fingers together, and both soon fell into a contented sleep, their arms forming a protective barrier over their children.