Short chapter this time around, I'm going through everything and adding additional details. The story ends up a bit rushed so I wanted to fluff it up a bit. Enjoy!
Sorry for the delay, had to break up with an asshole, but we're back!
It was two days before Michonne was able to get out of bed and four before she could make it to town to buy provisions. The two days in Rick's presence had completely changed her outlook, she didn't know how she had managed before. As she made her way back to her home, she knew that the posse had picked up two newer Sullivan gang members and were holding them without bail. Neither of them knew who Rick Grimes was or where he was going. She smiled at the news, knowing he was safe for now. She walked past a few more shops, hoping to get some more information, but to no avail. No one knew where the gang was and the men were losing hope of the reward. Something new would catch their eye soon.
"Do you think they'll kill them?" One woman asked.
"No, they'll probably let them go or send them to a farm." The other replied.
A farm, Michonne thought, where they would be no different than slaves. She prayed for their souls.
As she opened the door to her home, she was reminded of Rick. How he had touched her and made her feel like a woman again. She sighed and rubbed her eyes. "Might as well occupy myself 'til then."
She stared at his saddlebag, not sure what to make of it; he said half the contents were hers, but what did that mean? Huffing, she grabbed the bag and dumped the contents on her dining table.
The pain of his loss was quickly replaced by astonishment. The tiny Confederate flag-draped bag contained more than she thought. She knew no man would leave such a fortune to a random woman unless he had plans for a future with her. Her heart weakened as she shed a tear, knowing that Lee would try to make good on his promise.
She continued to rifle through his bag when something caught her eye. She pulled out a round medal, "Ohio?" She asked quietly. She continued to rummage, looking for something to explain the medal. She found a crumpled piece of paper on the edge of the bag. She unfolded it, "State of Ohio to Veteran Ohio Volunteer," She paused, "Rick Grimes, you son of a bitch."
. . .
As she opened the door to her home, she was reminded of Rick. How he had touched her and made her feel like a woman again. She sighed and rubbed her eyes. "I might as well occupy myself 'til then."
She stared at his saddlebag, not sure what to make of it; he said half the contents were hers, but what did that mean? Huffing, she grabbed the bag and dumped the contents on her dining table. The pain of his loss was quickly replaced by astonishment.
"Well well, Mr. Grimes." She smiled. Inside the bag were at least a dozen stacks of hundred dollar bills, some fine jewellery and gold. Michonne glanced around to make sure no one was around - even though she lived alone - and put the ruby necklace around her neck. "Don't mind if I do!" She squealed.
She counted the money and piled it up, whistling. "What kind of man are you, Rick Grimes?" She asked herself. She separated the jewellery from the gold, amazed at the sheer amount of it. The tiny Confederate flag-draped bag contained more than she thought.
She knew no man would leave such a fortune to a random woman unless he had plans for a future with her. Her heart weakened as she shed a tear, knowing that Lee would try to make good on his promise.
She continued to rifle through his bag when something caught her eye. She pulled out a round medal, "Ohio?" She asked quietly. She continued to rummage, looking for something to explain the medal. She found a crumpled piece of paper on the edge of the bag. She unfolded it, "State of Ohio to Veteran Ohio Volunteer." She paused. "Rick Grimes, you son of a bitch."
It was three months after Rick's disappearance that she knew she was pregnant. She hadn't gotten her period and the smell of Rick's coat, along with other things in her house, disgusted her. She went into town that day, knowing it would be a long time before she left the house.
She smiled sadly at her flat stomach. She remembered the last time she had been in this position, how she and her husband had been so excited to meet their little one. This time would be different, this time she would be alone.
People would gossip as soon as she showed up, but she didn't care. It wasn't as if she was going to stay after the baby was born. No one would miss her, being a Negro living near an all-white town made it easy. She would have to talk to Dr. Rhee, though, come up with some kind of lie that the father was one of the federal troops passing through.
Dr. Rhee had helped her give birth to Andre. He and his wife, Margaret, were the only openly interracial couple in town. She knew he would tell his wife and quell the town's rumours about who the father was. People would go back to not caring about Negroes.
Michonne spent her days cleaning, eating and thinking of names. She used to think of herself as a one-and-done kind of woman, but now she had another chance at motherhood. She was going to call the baby Rick Jr, but thought better of it. Why name a baby after a man who might not come back? She pushed the thought aside and went back to quilting, she couldn't think about him now, she had to work and sell to keep unwanted questions at bay. She couldn't tell anyone about the money, about how she could afford to pay off her debts as a widow.
. . .
The days were getting shorter and colder. It had been six months since she had last seen Rick and she missed him every day—she was beginning to forget what he smelled like.
She put her laundry aside and prepared to boil some water for a nice cup of tea. She had started wearing bloomers, like the women she saw on the wanted posters. They gave her more room to breathe and allowed her to move much faster. However, they made her large breasts stick out more than she knew was morally acceptable for an upstanding woman. She snorted.
She looked out the window, hoping to see her husband. She squinted at the figure trotting in her direction. She sighed and picked up her cloak, thinking it was a traveller who needed to stable his horses. She watched him for a while before realising he was riding the horse, and took off her cloak. "Definitely not for me." She muttered. She waddled back to her chair and sat down with an exaggerated sigh. She was folding some more clothes when she heard the barn door open. "Now who the hell?" She asked.
She hadn't heard the man's horse approach her house. She grabbed the rifle off the cloak, it hadn't moved in six months, and put her coat on. She didn't have a horse, but she did have chickens and pigs that needed guarding. Michonne smiled, thinking about the day she almost shot Rick and made her way to her barn.
She crept to the back of the barn and raised her gun, "Stick 'em up or I'll shoot. The figure continued to stall his horse, a slow smile creeping across his features. "I said hands up!" She threatened.
The figure stopped what he was doing and turned to face her with his hands up. "Hey, sweet girl." The man said. Michonne frowned. She raised the gun higher, she wasn't going to let another white man take advantage of her.
He slowly removed his hat, revealing a shaggy head of hair and a dishevelled beard. Her eyes widened but she didn't put the gun down.
Her heart pounded as a huge smile spread across his face. He walked up to her, took the gun from her and placed it against one of the stables.
"Rick?"
"Told you I'd be back." He winked. He went to pick her up, noticing the huge bump. He grinned, "How far 'long are you?"
"Six months, I think." He rubbed her belly affectionately, his eyes glazing over. "Hope it's a boy." He looked up at her and kissed her gently. She kissed him back just as passionately, not caring about his unkempt state, she had missed him.
As they pulled apart, he whispered, "I always keep my promises."
The pair made their way back to the house, Rick ever the gentleman, carrying her all the way to her bedroom. He laid her down on the bed before taking off her old coat and his boots.
"I should probably burn these." He said, finally taking a good whiff of himself.
"I reckon you should." She laughed. She tried to get out of bed to run him a bath, but he stopped her.
"Stay." He ordered. "I'll be back."
She lay back on the bed and let out the breath she had been holding in. He was back at last.
Rick filled the water basin with buckets of water. Then she heard his clothes hit the floor and her body reacted. She needed him, but she could wait a few more minutes. She had waited six months.
After a few more agonising minutes, Rick reappeared with a towel wrapped around his waist. She tried to pull herself up again and he smiled. "Calm down, lil lady. I'm not going anywhere."
"I'm the opposite of little, Mr. Grimes—help me!"
He laughed and pulled her up.
"I can't believe this." He said as he got on his knees in front of her and rubbed her stomach.
"Are you happy?"
He shook his head, "Happier than you can ever imagine."
"Good. You gotta lot of explaining to do." She replied. He looked up at her, his hands still gently caressing her stomach.