Just Michonne

Everything was in chaos. There were walkers surrounding the house. Deanna was dying. He had Jessie and her children depending on him. He had a sense of doom where she was concerned. He’d kissed her in a desire to comfort her in that moment and now he knew it had been a bad move on his part. She had expectations, especially when she touched his face. She was looking to him for confirmation, validation, some sign that there was a future waiting for them on the other side of this crisis and he couldn’t do it this time. He couldn’t give her what she needed because it was asking for more than he had to give her. 

So he gave her nothing. He made no promises, not with eyes, most certainly not with his lips. 

Now Michonne was asking for precious seconds they didn’t really have but he’d make the time. He’d borrow from here and there and give her everything he could because he wanted her to have it. She’d earned it from him, from all of their family. He entered the upstairs bathroom and waited while Michonne closed the door behind her. 

“Deanna just asked me something very important,” she said, not wasting a single moment on trying to gather her words. “She asked me what do I want for me. I told her I didn’t know but that was a lie. I know exactly what I want. I have for a while now. I’ve just been afraid to face it. 

He hadn’t been sure where she was going, or what she was trying to say, until she took his hand. 

“I want something with you,” she said. Rick thought it took a lot of bravery to take him aside and risk rejection in a moment of crisis. “I’d follow you to hell because I know you’d find a way to bring me back.” 

When Michonne pressed her lips to his, it was easy to lean into it, to give into the moment, because this was Michonne. She’d become almost everything to him. Hell, outside of his children she was his world. He couldn’t put a name on what was happening with Jessie but it wasn’t this. It wasn’t love. When Michonne took his face in her hands he wished he could freeze that moment forever, just stay there, where he didn’t have to act. He could just stare into the dark calm of her eyes and feel the love she had for him in her touch, her gaze. 

“I love you.” 

She kissed him again, softly, quickly, and then left the bathroom. She left him, standing in a bubble of emotion, a mix of joy and peace and fear and excitement and uncertainty, rolling together like oil and water, refusing to mix but it was okay. He’d figure it out later. For now it all culminated in one feeling that would carry him through: Hope. He’d do what needed to be done to save as many people as he could, and then he’d worry about everything else. For now, he had hope, given to him by the warrior at his side, given to him by the woman he knew would someday be the lover he held in his arms and with him in his bed. 

Rick followed after her. He had work to do to secure the future he really wanted and it was with Michonne. No one else. Just Michonne.