Warrior's Rage

Maggie gripped Rick’s arm, trying to stop him from running after the three men who’d attacked their camp. “Rick! It’s over!”

“It’s not over until they’re all dead,” he said. “Last time I said that you didn’t listen and look what happened.”

“He’s right,” Glenn said, remembering how their decision to not go after the Terminians had resulted in Bob getting tortured and eaten. He was going to die anyway but for him to be tortured the way he was…

“Maggie, he’s right,” Glenn insisted, looking into her eyes and hating the fear he saw there.

“Tyreese, Glenn, Daryl, you’re with me,” Rick said.

Michonne got up and started to follow after but Rick shook his head.

“Stay here. Keep the others safe in case it turns out there are more of them that come back.”

“Okay.”

She watched him and the others leave, heading off into the trees where the shadows deepened with the approach of dusk. She hoped all of them returned.

“Are you okay?” she asked Carl, who sat with Judith. She was crying, frightened by all the gunfire and the screaming as they’d fought a cutthroat gang that had attacked them for their resources.

“I’m fine,” he said. “I shouldn’t be but I am. What does that say about me?”

Michonne laid a hand on his shoulder. “That you’re strong.”

“Walkers,” Maggie said, nodding to the six walkers that were stumbling into the clearing from the woods.

“Let’s use our knives,” Sasha said. “We don’t need to attract more of them.”

…

Rick wasn’t calming down. It was over. Truly over. They’d killed the last of their attackers. He should have been okay now but instead he seemed even angrier than before. Thankfully Carl, Judith, and most of the camp was asleep and didn’t have to witness the burning rage in his eyes. Only Rosita and Tara remained awake, walking the edge of the camp, keeping an eye out for walkers.

“I’m gonna patrol,” Rick said.

Rosita nodded wordlessly in Rick’s direction and Michonne nodded at her in turn. She suspected he was going into the wood to punish a tree with his fists, something she’d seen him do before. She decided this time she would follow, try to talk him down. When she caught up to him he was still walking, seeming to wander aimlessly.

“Rick.”

“What?” he shouted. He heaved a sigh and then turned back to face Michonne, who leaned against a tree to regard him. “What?” he asked, in  a softer tone.

“What’s wrong?”

He gave a short, bitter laugh. “What’s wrong? Really?”

“Really.”

Rick shrugged his shoulders. “Oh, I don’t know, Michonne. Maybe I’m sick of the road. Maybe I’m sick of people attacking us. People, not walkers. People. We should be sticking together in this, don’t you think? Instead you have to worry more about people than you do these things.”

He pulled out his knife and took down a walker that approached. He left it where it lay and walked back toward her.

“What else is bothering you?”

“Nothing. Listen, I just need some time alone.”

He was dismissing her. He was trying to, at least, but she wasn’t having it. She knew something else was eating at Rick. She had a good idea what it was.

“You’re lonely.”

“No, I’m crowded. That’s why I left the camp. I need time to be alone.”

“You’re not hurting for company. You’re hurting for companionship.”

Rick squinted at her. The full moon trickled easily through the sparsely grouped trees so he could see her fairly well. He didn’t know what to say to her observation but for some reason it made the nameless anger that had been plaguing him the past couple of weeks intensify.

“Don’t stand there and try to analyze me,” he finally said. “Just go back to camp. I’ll come back when I…what are you doing?”

Michonne pulled off her jacket. Then she began tugging at the hem of her shirt.

“I’m taking my clothes off,” she answered.

“Well…stop.”

She allowed her top to fall, never breaking eye contact, and started toward him.

“Michonne, I’m serious.”

“I know,” she said calmly, and then walked behind him to pull his jacket off. He didn’t know why he let her. He tried to take it back from her to put it back on but she threw it to the ground then slipped her hands under his tee-shirt.

“Be angry,” she said. “It’s okay.”

“Thanks for the permission,” he said bitingly.

He backed away another step. She advanced until he held a hand out, putting it in the center of her chest, stopping her advance.

“Just go back.”

“Or what?”

He wasn’t sure how to answer that question. What would he do?

“You gonna hit me?” she asked.

“Of course not.”

“You want to hit something.”

“No!” he growled, unsure what he meant by that. He was just so damn angry. So damn frustrated. So tense. He didn’t know the root of his feelings. He just knew they were real and they were intense.

“Focus your anger into something else,” she said, and then rubbed a hand over his crotch to cup his balls.

Rick felt blood rush immediately south into his dick. He hardened against her palm so fast it was nearly painful. A plaintive sound escaped him, something akin to a weeping noise, as she continued rubbing. He bit his lower lip. Maybe she was right. Maybe he’d gone too long without sex. Maybe he’d gone too long trying to be strong for others without taking anything for himself in return.

“This isn’t going to fix me.”

“No, but it’ll help.”

He stood there and let her undo his belt, unzip him, and free his erection from his jeans. He watched her as she worked, her gaze not meeting his until his jeans were down to his knees.

“What do you want? What do you need?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

She pulled his shirt up and he finished taking it off.

“Lie down.”

He didn’t. He shook his head and then pushed her back. He reached for his jeans to pull them up and was about to zip them when Michonne gripped his face in her hands and pulled  him to her. She kissed him. He resisted at first, pulling away, refusing to deepen the kiss until he tried to speak and she slipped her tongue inside.

Rick knew he should have moved back but the feel of her tongue circling his, and the throb of his erection, made him react on instinct rather than think clearly. He leaned forward, his hands gripping her waist, pulling her against his hardened cock. After a few moments he pulled back, breathless.

“All right. You really wanna do this?”

She said nothing. Instead she stepped back and slapped him. It wasn’t a love tap, either. It was a hard slap, one that made the rage inside of him flame up so intensely he couldn’t breathe. His hand snaked out to wrap around her neck before he was aware of his actions. She shoved it away. Shoved him away.

“What the hell are you doing?”

She moved to slap him again but he stopped gripped her hand so tightly Michonne was sure there would be a bruise.

“Be angry,” she told him in an eerily calm voice before she kissed him again.

His face was stinging from her slap. His cock was aching from her hand rubbing against it. This time Rick kissed Michonne and it was brutal. Be angry. Work the anger out. If that’s what she wanted, that’s what he was going to do.

With quick movements he undid her belt and then turned her back to him. He pressed his erection against her round, firm ass, ground into her, and unzipped her pants. She’d told him to focus his anger so that’s what he did now. He shoved a hand down her pants and found her wet warmth under the soft curls that he slipped his fingers into. She’d just started to moan when he released her and forced her to the ground.

Rick shoved Michonne’s pants down before pushing his own jeans back down. He pulled her roughly against him, his hands seeking her hardened nipples to pinch and roll them none too gently. She hissed but didn’t try to stop him. She was going to take it and he was determined to dish it out. He bit into the flesh of her shoulder, into the curve of her neck, grazing his teeth over her warm skin that was beginning to slick with a light sheen of sweat. She was aware of what he could do with those teeth but she didn’t flinch or pull away from him.

Michonne weathered the storm of Rick’s rough, angry hands. He invaded her vaginally from behind, slicking his fingers with her juices, eliciting moans born of bestial need. She worked her own clit while he fingered her, roughly, without any thought to whether or not there was any pain at the brutality of his touch.

After sliding his fingers from Michonne, Rick shoved her face first into the soil so that she was flat. He loomed over her, positioned himself at her entrance, and then thrust forward without any attempt at care or gentleness.

“You wanted me angry,” he ground out, as he began to thrust. “You got me angry.”

“I can take it,” she said, and take it she did. She took the frantic, angry, deep thrusts that forced her face to rub into the leaf strewn soil beneath her, listening to his breathless grunts and something that sounded akin to sobs until he came and his hips stilled.

…

“I’m sorry,” he said.

The sweat on their skin was cool now. They lay, fully dressed, looking up at the star dusted sky.

“Don’t be.”

“I shouldn’t have been so rough.”

“Are you angry?”

Rick shook his head. “Guilty.”

“Like I said. Don’t be.”

Rick looked over at her. He could see he’d marked her skin. She was rubbing the wrist he’d grabbed and squeezed. It would bruise. Guilt burned in his belly but he didn’t voice it.

“You’re the best man I know,” Michonne said. “You’re the best man this world has to offer. You do what you have to in order to keep your family safe. You love deeply. That’s why you were so angry. This world, Rick, has become hell on earth. You may not believe it, but you’re one of the few angels that walk it.”

“If I’m an angel then you are too.”

She smiled and laced her fingers through his. He gripped her hand and stared into her lovely, dark eyes.

“I don’t want to hurt people,” he finally said. “I will, but I hate it when I have to.”

“I know you do. That’s what makes you a good man.”

She kissed his knuckles and then stood up. He pulled himself to his feet and heaved a sigh.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, feeling the guilt melt away. “I feel…light. Cool. Calm.”

“Good.”

“Michonne…”

This time when Rick’s hands came to rest on her they were soft, gentle, and loving. He kissed her lightly on the lips, then on her forehead, before hugging her close.

“I’d be lost without you.”

Michonne squeezed him back and enjoyed the feel of his arms around her. “You’ll never be without me, Rick. I’ll never leave you.”

She took his hand in his and together they returned to their family.