A/N: Enjoy!
(And a very special shout out to Nwfanmega for her handling of a troll!)
Chapter 19: Have a Little Faith (part 1)
Something was wrong.
I was engulfed in darkness… I felt completely off-kilter, as if I was somehow both awake and still dreaming… and I was alone.
Something was very, very wrong, and I started to panic.
But panicking only seemed to push me deeper into darkness.
Being pushed deeper into darkness only made me panic more.
"Michonne!"
The voice that called out to me was faint and muffled. It sounded impossibly far away, but it instantly calmed me.
"Michonne! Wake up!"
The voice called out to me again. It sounded stronger and closer.
I wanted to respond to it—I was trying my hardest to do so—but I couldn't free myself from the darkness surrounding me. When I tried to move, the heaviness of it weighed me down. When I tried to speak, the thickness of it muted my voice.
"Open your eyes!"
The voice sounded louder, clearer.
And it sounded familiar.
Rick!
"Michonne, open your eyes!" Rick said frantically. "Please."
His "please" was nothing more than a soft, broken whisper, but there was power in that plea. It pierced the darkness, and I felt myself being propelled to the light it created. I heard myself groan as I fought to open my eyes.
"That's it! Come on, sweetheart, open your eyes! Come back to me."
When my eyes finally fluttered open, Rick's very relieved face hovered above me.
"Thank God," he whispered.
As I blinked myself out of darkness, he tenderly cradled my face.
"Michonne? Michonne, are you ok?" he asked, his voice trembling with emotion. "How are you feelin'? Are you dizzy? Are you havin' any problems breathin'? Do you need somethin' to drink? Do you want me to call an ambulance?"
Because I still felt slightly off-kilter, his rapid-fire questions overwhelmed me. While my mind tried to sort and make sense of them, I groggily stared at his face.
"You gotta talk to me, Michonne," he gently demanded. "You gotta let me know you're ok. Or let me know if you're not so I can figure out how to make thangs better. Ok, Michonne?"
God, I love that face.
I visually savored it, indulging on the perfection of his forehead, his chin and everything in between.
For the briefest of moments, Rick's perfect eyebrows raised in surprise, but then his perfect dimples deepened as his perfect smile spread across his perfect face.
I really, really love that face.
"Hey," he whispered, delicately rubbing his thumb up and down my cheek.
"Hey," I whispered, smiling back at him, delighting in his feather-light touch.
"Michonne," he said softly with a serious look on his face, "I need you to focus right now. I need to know if you're ok."
His eyes were begging me to set his worried mind at ease. I wasn't sure that I could. Most of the darkness had lifted from my mind, but the feeling that something was wrong persisted.
I tore my eyes from Rick's and looked around, hoping to see something that would help me make sense of what I was feeling. I stared at the wall with "Dream Big, Little One" painted across it, and I felt even more confused. Rick and I painted those words on one of the nursery walls after Nugget turned four months old.
The last clear memory I had of tonight was of me, Rick and Fucking Lori Grimes in the kitchen. Why was I lying flat on my back on the floor of Nugget's nursery? Why was Rick sitting on his knees by my side?
The feeling that something was very, very wrong cemented itself in the pit of my stomach.
"Rick, what happened?" I anxiously asked.
He rubbed his thumb up and down my cheek one last time before holding one of my hands between both of his.
"You don't remember anythang?"
I ran through my memories again, but they still ended with me, Rick and Fucking Lori Grimes in the kitchen.
"You were about to kick that bitch out the house," I said, walking him through what I remembered, "...and then she ran around the table…"
I tried to remember more, but my mind wouldn't cooperate.
"Everything gets fuzzy after that," I murmured.
I waited for Rick to fill me in on what I wasn't remembering, but he only offered silence. His face, which had been so expressive moments ago, was unreadable.
I was trying hard to not panic.
"What happened, Rick?"
His face remained unreadable, but he couldn't control the nervous bobbing of his Adam's apple.
"So, well, we… you, me, and Lori, we were in the kitchen, just like you said, and then…"
"And then?" I pressed after he trailed off.
"And then..."
He trailed off again, looking down at my hand, carefully choosing his next words.
"And then you weren't in the kitchen anymore," he said, looking me in the eye again. "I figured you were either in here or headin' for your car. I checked here first."
I was tempted to shoot daggers at Rick for that watered-down account of events, but I would let him finish. We would circle back to that "and then" when he was done.
"I got here right as you were goin' down," he said, holding onto my hand tighter.
Right as I was going down?
"I caught you before you hit the floor."
Before I hit the floor? Wait...
"What?!" I exclaimed, shooting up into a sitting position.
I immediately felt lightheaded.
"Whoa! Hey, hey, hey," Rick said in a panicked voice when I leaned into him with my eyes squeezed shut. "Let's get you back down, Michonne."
He cupped the back of my head with one of his hands and gently pressed me back down to the floor with the other.
"Take a deep breath," he instructed when I was lying on my back again. "You're gonna be fine, 'Chonne. I'm right here. Just breathe through it."
I listened to the comforting cadence of Rick's voice as he talked me through my dizzy spell. After it passed, I opened my eyes. And once again, Rick's handsome, relieved face hovered above me.
"Feelin' better?"
I was, but I was concerned about something else. "I fainted?" I asked, searching my mind for even a sliver of a memory of why or when I'd passed out.
"You did," he confirmed.
"And you caught me?" I asked, warmed by the thought of him being here by my side the entire time.
He gently rubbed his hand across my stomach. "I did."
"After you threw up in my baby's room!" an irritated voice chimed in.
Lori's irritated voice.
Rick's head swiveled in her direction. I rolled my eyes.
Of fucking course!
Of course she was still here in the house. Of course she was inserting herself in a conversation that she was neither invited to nor welcome to join. Of course she would start something when she knew I couldn't get up and finish it.
"Why are you in here?" Rick barked.
He carefully pulled his hand from underneath my head to turn toward her, keeping his other hand on my stomach to hold me down.
"I can be in here, Rick! Despite what Michonne would have you believe, I'm not a monster! I'm checkin' to make sure she's ok."
"Lori," Rick growled in warning.
"And she looks ok to me. She looks perfectly fine to get up and leave and give us our privacy, baby. We need to talk about."
Oh. My. God.
She had to be the most ignorant, most exhausting bitch ever! I couldn't physically do anything about that at the moment, but my mouth was in no way incapacitated. I was more than happy to let her ignorant, exhausting ass know all about herself… until I saw her standing in the doorway.
Scowling face? Check. Icy brown eyes? Check. Flat, limp hair with those inexcusable split ends? Check. Crossed arms? Check.
What I wasn't expecting to see was her holding a baby.
Her baby.
Her baby with Rick.
Named Judith Grace Grimes.
After Rick's mother.
My eyes shot up to the ceiling.
My memory was no longer fuzzy.
I remembered everything… Rick trying to remove Lori from the house; Lori running around the table; Lori announcing that she and Rick have a daughter.
I remembered walking out the kitchen, standing outside of the nursery, seeing that baby in Nugget's crib, vomiting before my world turned dark.
I pressed my lips together to stop a whimper from escaping because I finally knew what was so very, very wrong…
My heart was slowly breaking.
Don't you dare cry, Michonne.
"Lori, we agreed that you would wait in another room!" Rick snapped.
With my memory now intact, I suddenly became aware of the bitter taste in my mouth and a dampness on my chest. I cringed when I looked down at the wet stain on my pajama top that was making it cling to my chest.
"That's not fair," Lori whined. "That's just not fair, Rick!"
I cringed when I saw a puddle of vomit on the floor a few feet away from me.
"You aren't helpin' right now, so go!" Rick ordered.
"But why? Why should I be sequestered in my own home? And what about Judy? She needs to spend time with her daddy!"
I cringed again.
Her daddy.
Rick was someone else's dadu.
Rick was Lori's baby's dadu.
"We'll finish discussin' thangs later, Lori," he growled.
"She's not a 'thang,' Rick! She's our daughter! Who needs you a hell of a lot more than Mi-chonne does right now! Remember that while you're in here playin' doctor!" She blew out an angry breath and stomped out of the nursery. "And make sure someone cleans up that vomit!" she shouted.
She slammed a door, which I knew without a shadow of doubt was the door to Rick's bedroom.
Because of fucking course she would hide out in Rick's bedroom.
The sound of that baby wailing immediately followed the door slam.
Fucking. Lori. Grimes.
A very volatile mix of emotions was swelling within me. Rage, outrage, heartache, shock, confusion, fear, disappointment. I had no idea what effect this mix would have on me when it burst, so I needed to leave. Now.
"I'm so sorry, 'Chonne. She wasn't supposed to… Michonne, what are you doin'?" he asked after I pushed his hand off my stomach and started to sit up. "You should lay back down."
"I'm fine," I mumbled.
"You were just unconscious," he reminded me. "You could barely sit up a few minutes ago."
"I'm sitting up now. I'm fine," I said sharply. I tried to push myself up from the floor, but Rick stopped me with a tug on my arm.
"Stop. Rest. Just a little longer, Michonne."
Rick had no idea what he was asking of me. A little longer may as well have been an eternity. I know he was worried and was trying to help, but it was too much for me to be here right now, too much to be around Fucking Lori Grimes, too much to be around that baby and too much to be around him.
"Michonne, listen, I was gonna tell you," he said in a rush. "I was gonna tell you what Lori's claimin', but I didn't wanna upset you so soon after you passed out."
"Thank you for that, Rick. Thank you for not upsetting me," I said sarcastically. "Are you helping me up or not?"
He let out a sigh of frustration. "And then what? You're leavin'?"
I could already see that me leaving was going to be a problem.
"No, Rick," I said softly. "You'll help me up, and then you'll go get Lori. The three of us will sit down at the kitchen table and have an open and honest conversation about everything that's happened over this last year… We'll figure this out together."
His eyes bore into mine, and then he rolled them. "So you're leavin'," he said flatly.
"Of course I'm leaving, Rick! I should've left in the first place! I can't be here right now. I shouldn't be here. I just had to see if… if what she said was true. It is, and now I need to go. Are you helping me up or not?"
Rick's face started to set in a stubborn expression.
"Fine. I'll get up on my own." I paid no mind to the hard set of his jaw, his pouty lips and his furrowed brow.
"Dammit, Michonne! Wait! Just wait," he grumbled as I pushed myself up.
I narrowed my eyes when he rubbed the bridge of his nose and mumbled something to himself that sounded an awful lot like "hardheaded."
"Put your arm around my shoulders," he ordered.
Because I desperately wanted to get out of this house, I let that "hardheaded" slide and hooked my arm around his shoulders. He hooked his arm around my waist, and we slowly rose until we were standing.
I held onto Rick tightly, waiting for the dizziness to hit. When it didn't and I was confident that it wasn't going to, I pulled my arm from his shoulders.
He kept his arm around my waist.
"Thanks, Rick," I murmured.
He looked down at me with that stubborn expression of his. I ignored it and raised my eyebrows, telling him to let go.
He looked me straight in the eyes and ignored me.
"Oh my God," I groaned, trying to pull away from him.
His grip around my waist tightened.
"Let go!" I demanded.
"No."
"Rick, you better let—Aaagh!" I yelped as he scooped me up into his arms. "Richard Arthur Grimes, put me down right now!"
I tried to jump out of his hold, but he all of a sudden had arms of steel.
"I don't want to be here," I hissed.
"Yeah, I know," he grumbled.
"I'm not staying," I hissed.
"Yeah, I know that too," he grumbled. And then in a softer voice he asked, "But at least let me help you get cleaned up before you leave? Please?"
Shit.
There was that "please" again, and my resolve to run out of the house as fast as my feet could carry me was instantly weakened. But Rick didn't need to know how easily he affected me, so I looked down at my top as if I was contemplating his request.
"I guess a clean shirt wouldn't hurt," I mumbled.
"It wouldn't," he agreed, barely containing a smile as he walked towards the door. "And neither would a toothbrush," he added under his breath.
A tooth—What?!
I quickly covered my mouth with one hand and hit his shoulder with the other. "I can't believe you just said that!" I grumbled into my hand.
Only Rick Grimes would have the nerve to bring up my not-so-fresh breath after I had thrown up and fainted because of Fucking Lori Grimes and her bullshit.
"What?" he innocently asked.
I could clearly see the dimple in his cheek deepening.
"Real classy, Grimes," I grumbled into my hand, rolling my eyes. "Especially since I've never, ever said a thing about that time you threw up on me."
Rick stopped walking and looked at me incredulously.
"We were eight years old, Michonne, and I told you I didn't wanna ride that roller coaster. But somehow, I ended up on it with you anyways. And you called me 'yuck mouth' for the entire summer!"
I held in a laugh and hid my smile behind my hand. "I don't recall that at all," I claimed.
"Uh huh."
He walked around the puddle of throw up and out the nursery, and then he walked past his closed bedroom door. I tried holding onto the lightness of the "yuck mouth" memory, but it was no match for the dark feelings that Fucking Lori Grimes and that baby evoked.
Rick held onto me tighter before I could jump out of his arms and make a run for the front door.
Fucking arms of steel!
When we reached the end of the hallway, he turned into the guest room, formerly my bedroom, and turned on the light. It was jarring how bare the room looked without all my things filling it up, but the unmade bed with Nugget's favorite blankie on top of it immediately caught my eye.
I looked at Rick in surprise.
"You've been sleeping in here?" I asked into my hand.
Other than the pink color slowly tinting his cheeks, he looked completely unfazed by my question.
"Carl has," he answered casually, walking to the bathroom.
"Carl?"
"Mmhm."
"My little Nugget? Who just turned one?"
"Michonne, did the meanin' of 'mmhm' change without anyone tellin' me? And uncover your mouth. You know I don't care about your yuck mouth."
I kept my hand over my mouth. "Did Nugget start sleeping in beds by himself without anyone telling me?"
Rick turned on the bathroom and looked at me with slightly pinker cheeks.
"Don't be ridiculous, Michonne," he said as if I had just asked the most ridiculous question in the world. "After you moved out, when Carl would get fussy or was missin' you, it calmed him down to sleep in here. Obviously I had to sleep in here with him."
I smirked. "Obviously."
I didn't have it in me to tease Rick about how he must have missed me too, not when the thought of Nugget being comforted by my room instead of by me was so upsetting. I should have put my squabble with Rick aside and been there for him, even if it was just to stop by for a goodnight snuggle. I should have been a better Muhmuh.
"Stop that," Rick admonished. "He doesn't remember missin' you. He remembers how happy he was to see you on Saturday, and he remembers all that cake you gave him on Sunday. He's ok, Michonne."
He set me down on my feet, keeping his arm wrapped around my waist.
"But I should've-"
"Did he poop on you?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "'Cuz I got projectile pooped on when he was mad at me."
I shook my head and smiled behind my hand. "No poop."
"Well there you go. The proof is in the poop. If he held anythang against you, he woulda pooped on you."
Seeing the positive effect his poop pep talk had on me, Rick smiled at me.
"Still feelin' ok? Not dizzy?" he asked, studying my face.
"I'm fine, just like I was fine in the nursery." I gave him a pointed look.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he mumbled, giving my waist a light squeeze before letting me go.
When he stepped away and opened a sink drawer, I dropped my hand from my mouth. To my surprise, he pulled a purple toothbrush out the drawer. After three very comical attempts to open the packaging, he finally succeeded and handed the toothbrush to me.
"Got it for you the day after you moved out," he remarked with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "I knew you'd eventually come back over, so I went shoppin' for some thangs you'd need in case you stayed the night."
I rolled my eyes at his presumptuousness but was secretly touched that he'd prepared for my inevitable return.
"Check the medicine cabinet," he said, throwing the packaging away.
I opened it and snorted in delight. "Spearmint and baking soda!"
I took my toothpaste very seriously, so it was truly a relief seeing that green and white tube.
"Your favorite," Rick said, grinning at me through the mirror.
His grin almost made me forget why I needed a toothbrush and toothpaste in the first place.
Almost.
What the hell am I doing?
I looked at my reflection.
The brownish-colored vomit stain on my pajama top was all the reminder I needed that I had absolutely nothing to grin about right now. Not when Fucking Lori Grimes and that baby were holed up in Rick's room. Not when I had just lost so much.
"Michonne," Rick said, sounding worried. He was no longer grinning. "We should talk ab-"
"Thank you for the toothpaste and toothbrush, Rick."
I didn't want to talk.
I was going to brush my teeth, and then I was going to leave.
Rick swallowed hard, nodded and walked over to the bathtub to sit on its edge. I felt his stare on me when I started brushing my teeth.
I avoided it.
I disregarded his presence altogether when Fucking Lori Grimes's words began assaulting my mind.
"I will win. Because Rick will never walk away from me. He will never walk away from his child."
I slowly moved my toothbrush back and forth.
"We have a daughter, Rick… She's our miracle baby!"
I slowly moved my toothbrush up and down.
"Rick chose me! He loves me!... You can't have what's mine!"
My hand stilled; my toothbrush was motionless in my mouth.
"Don't," Rick said softly, drawing me from my thoughts.
Our eyes connected in the mirror. I was surprised to see him standing next to me.
"Don't do that... Don't get lost in your head, Michonne," he pleaded, placing his hand on my lower back. "Talk to me."
I gave him a small smile and refocused my attention on cleaning my mouth. I spent a good twenty minutes ensuring I didn't have yuck mouth. Rick stood by my side the entire time, rubbing my back.
"I think I'd like that clean shirt now," I said quietly after rinsing my mouth.
He didn't immediately respond. He only stared at me through the mirror. I held my breath, suspecting that he suspected my request was insincere. But then his eyes shifted to the stain on my top.
"Of course," he said, giving my lower back a pat. "I'll get you one."
I stayed in the bathroom and listened to him leave the room. When I thought he was far enough away, I tiptoed to the bedroom door and peeked around the door frame. He was standing outside his bedroom door and rubbing the bridge of his nose. I watched him take a deep breath, put his hand around the doorknob, open the door and step into the room.
One-one thousand. Two-one thousand. Three-one thousand.
The coast was clear.
I quietly left my room and rushed down the hallway to the front room. I maneuvered past the piles of luggage and made it to the front door. When I heard Rick and Fucking Lori Grimes' voices start to rise, I very carefully opened the door wide enough to slip out of the house and very carefully closed the door behind me.
I took a quick second to sigh in relief and then ran off the porch to get to my car. I noticed that Lori's SUV was gone.
Good.
I also noticed that my car door, which I had left open, was now closed.
Shit!
Morales or Noah must have closed it. Since I'd dropped my keys in my car before deciding to kick the front door down, I hoped my car door had just been closed and not locked.
Please be unlocked. Please be unlocked. Please be unlocked.
I grabbed the door handle and pulled.
The door opened.
Thank God!
My keys were peeking out from under the passenger's seat, so I crawled across the driver's seat to the passenger's seat to get them. While I was reaching down to pick them up, I heard the front door open.
Fuck.
I froze in place and watched Rick walk out the house. He had a shirt in his hand and a pissed off look on his face.
Fuck!
He looked straight into my car.
Fuck!
He tilted his head and squinted his eyes.
Fuck!
He started walking over with his angry bowlegged strut.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
When he was standing by the side of the car, he bent over and looked at me.
"What. Are. You. Doin'?"
Fuck.
I didn't answer him. There would be no reasoning with a head tilting, eye squinting Rick. I kept reaching for my keys.
My fingers had just grazed the keyring when Rick's arm wrapped around my waist from behind and pulled me out my car.
What the hell?!
He slammed my car door shut and set me down against it. I put my hands on my hips and glared at him.
He tilted his head and squinted his eyes at me. "You were just gonna leave without sayin' anythang? Without sayin' goodbye?"
"I'm leaving, Rick. Goodbye." I turned around and opened my car door.
He reached around me and closed it.
"You think I'm lettin' you drive off? At 4 somethin' in the mornin'?" he growled. "After you fainted? With no shoes? And covered in vomit?"
I turned back around to face him and glared. "You want to rethink your word choice, Richard. Last time I checked, you didn't have the authority to let me do anything."
He ran his hand down his face and took a deep breath.
"You know that's not how I meant it, Michonne," he gritted out. "All I'm askin' is if you really think leavin' is the best thang for you to do right now?"
"Yes. It is." I turned away from him and opened my car door.
He reached around me and closed it.
"It's not," he argued. "You don't have to run away, Michonne. This is your home! Have I not made that clear?"
I laughed in disbelief. "My home?" I asked, spinning around to face him.
"Yes, Michonne. Your home!"
A volatile mix of emotions was swelling again, and my rage was jockeying for the dominant position.
"This isn't my home, Rick! If it was, your wife's shit wouldn't be littering my front room! That baby would have never been sleeping in Nugget's crib! And neither of them would be holed up in your bedroom right now!" I whisper-shouted, keeping in mind that we were outside at four something in the morning.
"And I'm gonna handle that," Rick gritted out.
"Oh, I'm sure you will," I mumbled, rolling my eyes.
"Meanin' what, Michonne?"
"Meaning you were supposed to have handled that before I fainted. But she's still here! She's still calling this house her home. She's still fucking calling you 'baby', Rick!"
"What was I supposed to do?" he asked in frustration. "You passed out! Was I supposed to leave you there unconscious while I tossed her out? That's what you would've wanted?"
"Yes!"
"Bullshit!" he whisper-shouted. "And you know I'd never leave you alone like that."
I knew he wouldn't and I wouldn't have wanted him to, but that didn't matter at this point. My emotions were swelling and I was too riled up for logic and sensibility.
"What do you want from me, Rick? You want me to hold your hand while you talk to Lori?"
"No," he answered through gritted teeth.
"You want me to sit quietly in a corner while you two talk things out?"
"No!"
"You want me on baby duty so you two can have your privacy? Is that it? You think I'm going to watch that baby while you two work your shit out?"
"No! Of course n-"
"Uh uh," I said, shaking my head. "I'm not doing any of that, and I'm not going back in there and waiting around for you to decide..."
I shook my head again, turned away from him and opened my car door.
Rick closed it.
"To decide what?"
Do not cry, Michonne.
I swallowed the lump in my throat.
My heartache had overtaken my rage as my emotions continued to swell.
"For me to decide what, Michonne?" Rick asked in a softer voice, turning me around to face him.
I crossed my arms and looked away from him, preferring to direct my gaze at the garage door because the garage door didn't have concerned blue eyes that were about to make me start bawling.
Rick exhaled slowly.
"Michonne, I'm not askin' you to stay to help me deal with Lori. I will handle that. I will," he promised. "I'm askin' you to stay because you belong here. You know that. And I know you're not ok right now because I'm still not ok either." His hand cupped my elbow, and he pulled me closer to him. "But the two of us… You and me? We'll get back to bein' ok… together."
The sincerity of his words brought my eyes back to his.
"Watchin' you pass out scared the shit outta me, Michonne. If anythang happened to you while you were drivin', I couldn't live with that," he said with a shaky voice. "Stay," he whispered.
There was a part of me that genuinely appreciated what he said, but my anger overtook my heartache as my emotions continued to swell.
"Thank you for your concern," I snipped, shaking his hand off my elbow, "but I'm fine. You should go back inside to your wife and your daughter. They need you. I don't."
I turned away from him and opened my car door.
"Bullshit!" Rick whisper-shouted, shutting the door. "Would you stop bein' so goddamn stubborn?! You don't think I wanted thangs to go differently? This is a shitty situation, I know it is, but-"
I turned back to Rick and whisper-shouted, "This surpasses shitty, Rick! Your wife had your baby! When I was pregnant because she supposedly couldn't get pregnant, she was also pregnant! That's so completely and thoroughly fucked up, Rick!"
"We don't even know if what Lori's sayin' is true!"
My eyes widened in disbelief. I felt the temperature of my anger start to rise.
"So then you didn't fuck her the night before I moved in?"
He stared at me, his jaw tensing.
"It's a yes or no answer, Rick. Did you fuck your wife the night before I moved in?"
"Yes," he grumbled.
"Did you use a condom? Was she on birth control?"
"Mich-"
"Yes or no, Rick!"
"No."
"That's what I thought! Do I really need to stand here and explain how you got your wife pregnant while you were fucking her all night long without using any birth control? Jesus, Rick!"
I turned away from him and opened my car door.
Rick closed it.
"You pissed at me for sleepin' with her?"
"YES!" I shouted, turning back to him. "Yes, Rick! I'm pissed at you for sleeping with her! You got her PREG-NANT!"
"You don't get to be pissed at me for sleepin' with my wife back then! And you don't get to be pissed at me for not usin' a goddamn condom! You know how long we tried! You know what the doctors said! Gettin' pregnant wasn't supposed to be possible!"
"Yeah, well, evidently nothing is impossible. Your miracle baby proves that. Congratulations," I said dryly.
"Michonne, even if she is mine, I can be her father without bein' Lori's husband."
"Bullshit, Rick! I asked you on Saturday if you still had feelings for her, and do you remember what you said? You said you didn't know. You didn't know how you would feel if she popped up because she was still your wife! Because you missed her fucking haircuts!"
"Do not twist my words," he growled. "I said I was still sortin' through thangs, and that had nuthin' to do with haircuts. I told you yesterday at Hershel's that I knew how I felt about her. I just showed you how I feel about her! I took off my ring, Michonne! I told her she's not welcome in this house! I was about to throw her out!"
"Before you knew about that baby!"
"That baby doesn't change anythang!"
"That baby changes everything, Rick!"
Rick's lack of awareness was frustrating me to no end! It made no sense that he could be so blind to the future that awaited him.
I leaned back against my car to create some kind of distance between us because being so close to Rick made me want to scream.
I looked down at my toes because the sight of Rick made me want to scream.
But even my toes were making me want to scream! I was supposed to have painted them with red, glitter polish to complement my Wonder Woman costume, but my Saturday night saké bingeing and my Sunday morning hangover put a kibosh on that.
Almost every fucking thing, even the simple things, had gone wrong.
I was on the verge of a full-blown meltdown when the tip of Rick's size eleven sneaker gently nudged my big toe.
I ignored him.
"Hey," Rick said in a soft voice, nudging my toe again.
No.
I knew what he was doing, and it was not the time for heys.
I sighed.
"Lori came back with a ready-made family, Rick. She came back with the one thing you've always wanted with her," I said, hearing how tired I sounded.
The feeling of dread crept up my spine, and my fear overtook my anger as my emotions continued to swell.
"If you had just waited a little while longer..." I sighed again. "At some point, Rick, you're going to regret… you're going to think it was a mistake to-"
"Maybe at some point you'll regret havin' Carl! Maybe you'll think he was a mistake!"
His words felt like a very sharp slap to my face.
"I would never!" I exploded, standing up straight and glaring at him. "Take that back, Rick! Right now!"
"Don't insult me, and I won't insult you! I would never think that you givin' me the family I've always wanted was a mistake. Never! Don't ever think it or say it again!"
I looked into Rick's hurt eyes and felt that swell of emotion within me deflate. As upset as I was, I never wanted the conversation to deteriorate into this. We needed to stop before something else unspeakable was mistakenly spoken.
"I need to go," I said numbly.
He stared at me with glassy blue eyes and a face that had reddened from our heated exchange. He walked away from me, stopped in front of the garage and stood there, looking up at the sky with his hands on his hips.
His shoulders rose and fell as he took deep breaths, and I wanted nothing more than to run to him and wrap my arms around him. I wanted to cry with him and shout with him and commiserate with him over how fucked up this all was, but I couldn't. I wouldn't. Fucking Lori Grimes and that baby occupied too much space in my mind for me to see him as anything other than theirs.
No tears, Michonne.
I composed myself the best that I could when Rick walked back over to me. He held out the clean shirt that he was still gripping in his hand.
"Take it," he said.
I looked at it and shook my head. "I don't need it. I'll be fine until I get to my condo."
"Take it anyways," he insisted. "I'd feel better if you did."
I sighed and took it from him.
I did need the shirt, but I didn't want it. The truth of the matter was that Rick's scent would be all over that shirt—I could already smell it. I didn't want the reminder of him when I was alone in my condo.
"You wanna go to the side of the house to change? There aren't any lights on over there. I can block you from the street to give you some privacy," he suggested.
I appreciated him not suggesting that I change in the house, but I shook my head.
"That's ok, Rick. I'm not, uh, I'm not wearing a bra, so I'll figure something else out." I looked away after Rick's eyebrows raised in surprise and he glanced at my chest.
"Oh." He cleared his throat. "You sure you're ok to drive?" he asked, changing the subject.
"Yes, Rick," I answered, truthfully.
"And you're goin' straight to your condo?"
"Yes, Rick," I answered, not so truthfully.
I was heading straight to Daryl's place first to see Nugget, and then I was going to my condo.
Rick took a step closer to me. "I can stop by your condo after I talk to Lori?"
I didn't say anything. I honestly didn't expect to see him anytime soon. I was certain that talking to Lori was going to result in a reconciliation with Lori.
Rick sighed and took another step closer to me. He was standing so close that I had to tilt my head back to look up at him. He gazed into my eyes, and I felt a little mesmerized by those blue eyes that looked so tired but were still so piercing.
It was not the time to be mesmerized.
"You're going to get vomit on your shirt," I said, blurting out the first thing that came to mind.
Rick stepped even closer. "I'll stop by your condo after."
My eyes drifted to his lips…
"I'm not askin' you to wait up for me..."
I watched his lips as they moved…
"I have a key. I'll let myself in."
His perfectly pink lips...
Shit.
Not this again.
"Sure, yeah, whatever," I mumbled, turning away from him and opening my car door.
I draped the clean shirt over my headrest and crawled across the seats to pick up my keys. I didn't think about the view I was giving Rick until after the keys were in my hand. But things were only awkward if you made them awkward, so I backed out of the car as gracefully as possible, ignored Rick's flaming red cheeks, sat in the driver's seat, buckled up and cranked up my car.
Rick cleared his throat. "Be safe," he said, bending down to look me in the eyes. "And when you see Carl at Daryl's, give him a kiss for me."
I sometimes hated how well Rick knew me, but of course he knew I'd want to see Nugget right now.
"If you feel dizzy or off-balance at all, you pull over, Michonne."
"I will, Rick. I'll be safe."
He looked me over and nodded his head. "Ok," he murmured, shutting the door, though it seemed like he didn't really want to.
"Ok," I replied, not really wanting to leave him but reversing out of the driveway, nonetheless.
I watched him watching me drive away, terrified of what I would see the next time I saw him.
A/N: Thank you for reading! Please take the time to leave a review. It's appreciated!