AN: Couldn't resist doing a collection of one-shots, that hopefully fill in the gaps and also satisfy having more of Rick and Michonne, just a little bit longer. Keeping these to about 1-2k words in length, and the ratings will more than likely change by chapter. Title comes from The National song of the same name. Unbeta'd, all errors are mine.

Takes place during EP 6. Rated G.

Another goddamn helicopter.

This one much bigger than the previous choppers, and-blessedly-sturdier looking, courtesy of the newly restructured Civic Republic.

Two weeks since the explosion of the Summit at Cascadia Base, and the kinks were still twisted up and knotted, though slowly being worked out. Several lengthy investigations later, complete with interviews with higher ups and a dizzying array of meetings with committees and Republic officials and so much goddamn chatter, and their part in it all was deemed over. Stamped and sealed.

They were finally headed home.

To their children.

It was enough to deepen the trembling in his hands, far worse than any thoughts of being in the air. It felt surreal to be even thinking such things. He was alive and free, and on his way back to a place he only thought he'd ever see again in his dreams.

Though, they were warned it was quite different. Radio communications between Alexandria revealed its alliance with an impressively large community called The Commonwealth, and all the changes that came along with it. Namely that many of their old friends and neighbors had relocated to the bigger, far more advanced settlement, including their children, under the care of Carol and Ezkiel.

There was more information, of course. There was always more. But Rick didn't know if his already overstimulated brain could process whatever else without some serious downtime. Nerves and adrenaline coursed through him, a chaotic cocktail of trepidation that only made his hand shake harder, his chest tightening at what waited for them at the meet-point.

And then, he felt his wife's hand curl into his. Her grounding touch, warm hands and the cool press of her ring was enough to stop the shaking and his heart steadied, beating a different rhythm, the steady thump of it as familiar as the feeling of their fingers linked together.

Rick glanced over, meeting her gaze, so soft and sure and he lifted their joined hands, brushing a grateful kiss to her knuckles.

"Thirty minutes out!" came the shout from their pilot, and Rick nodded at the man before turning his focus back to Michonne, who watched him, dark eyes steady, with a brightness to them that he'd missed so damn much.

"Promise I won't throw you outta this one, baby."

Michonne's stark humor was enough to shake him from the creeping thought spiral, a sharp, short laugh tumbling out before he could help it, easing the vice-like grip of anxiety from his chest.

And really, he couldn't love her more for it, she really had a knack for getting him out of his head. Rick breathed out a slow exhale and gave her hand a grateful squeeze.

Nearly eight years of aching emptiness, of deadening himself to anything beyond simply surviving the fanatical ambitions and secrets of a bloodthirsty organization, all culminating into this.

The last time he would ever be separated from his family.

Michonne untangled their fingers and reached for the brown pack beside her feet. The bigger black duffel contained her things from the Civil Republic, a gesture of goodwill from the oversight committee. Her journal. Her armor.

And, her katana.

That, she had immediately slipped on her back, welcoming her sword like an old friend.

She rifled through the bag containing the gifts for their children. Books and a name chain for Judith. A Rubik's cube and a hatchet for RJ. Some Yellowstone sweatshirts they'd scored in the gift shop. And several Wyoming mugs for the house she wasn't entirely sure was still theirs, but would be calling home for the time being while they worked out the other elements of their life, playing catch-up with what awaited them at the Safe Zone.

Rick watched her inventory it all, the small smile gracing her lips shifting to a confused frown when she reached deeper into a zippered inside pocket. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," she assured him. "It's…" Her fingers closed over the object, and pulled out the thin, flat pieces of metal.

Her gaze softened into something sweeter at the little Wyoming state license plates and Rick ducked his head, the jumbly, nervous feeling giving way to shyness. "Just in case he might wanna hear it from me," he rumbled.

True, no one had ever called him Junior, and Rick didn't know what to expect in getting to know his own son, but the love of having that sort of bond with his namesake had already taken root.

It seemed too coincidental to pass up, finding that particular name, and so he pocketed it. Just in case.

His heartbeat skittered a bit more when Michonne looked at the others, surprise and confusion gracing her gorgeous features, and she voiced the question out loud that was all over her face. "When did you get these-"

"After you found the keys to the cabin," he explained, watching her fingers trace over the raised lettering spelling out their daughter's name. "You went to the ladies' room, I kept looking 'round." 'Judith' had been a lucky find, and even more so the 'Carl' plate. That had tightened his throat, a glimmer of it seizing him now as he took in Michonne's wistful smile. Grief in the gladness, a myriad of emotions playing out, but mostly happiness.

He knew the tears welling up in her dark eyes, seeing the last little plate were more of the same, her quiet gasp and trembling bottom lip had him reaching for her once more, their roles reversed as his touch sought to soothe her in the way she always managed for him.

Michonne's grip was tight, and she idly traced the plate with her free hand, her thumb circling the first letter of the name that she hadn't spoken in so long, but had never, ever left her thoughts.

Andre.

"You gave me back Carl," Rick told her, voice roughened by the tight emotions lodged in his throat. "Thought I would do the same."

The 'thank you' was heavy in her eyes, teary, but filled with so much love, he ached with the surety of it. Could taste it in the kiss she graced him with, a little messy but so goddamn sweet he claimed another, cupping her cheek and keeping her close.

Michonne pressed a final kiss to the inside of his wrist before pulling away, and safely tucked the plates inside the brown pack.

Their hands came together once more, holding tightly to one another as the pilot announced ten minutes to the landing point.