Paper Cut

"Oh, God, Rick. It's a stupid paper cut, it's not the end of the world."

Rick knew it wasn't the end of the world. He just wished the world could go on pause for him sometimes. He just wished his girlfriend could put him first above her hobbies and treat him like he mattered more to her than fucking knitting or baking brownies or whatever. Of course he'd wished those things with his late wife, Lori, as well. The world had ended by the time she started putting him first.

"I gotta go to Michonne's," he said. "She's got a few light fixtures needs replacing. I'm gonna help her with it."

"Fine."

He wasn't sure what to make of her tone just now. He wasn't sure if he cared. Jessie didn't like his friendship with Michonne. She'd always thought they were too close for platonic friends and he had backed away from Michonne because of it. Now, however, he had no intentions of doing so.

"You got a problem with me helping Michonne?"

"Yes," Jessie said, setting her knitting aside to regard him. "Every time something goes wrong at her place you rush right over to fix it."

"I'm her friend, Jessie."

"You're my boyfriend. How about putting me first sometime?"

"I was just thinking the same," he came back. "Like, putting me above your knitting, or whatever else it is you're wasting your free time on."

"How would you like it if I had a guy friend that I just hurried off to every time he said he was hungry, or he needed a button sewn on? Especially if you saw that friend acting like I'm the greatest thing since sliced bread?"

"You got any intentions of fucking this imaginary guy friend?"

"No, of course not."

"Then I wouldn't care."

He left her staring after him with angry eyes and finally gave himself a point on the ever growing scoreboard of their fights.

Michonne's place smelled good. She was cooking something, a casserole of some kind, that had chicken in it. Alexandria's expansion was going well, so were the farming of crops and the raising of cattle and other animals to put meat on the tables for their people.

"Chicken a la King," Michonne said, coming into the kitchen where Rick was draining a glass of water from the tap. "What are you having?"

"Don't know. Jessie hasn't started dinner yet," Rick said.

He knew, from his tone, that his buyer's remorse was showing. He couldn't help it. He took a seat at the table with Michonne, who was doing an inventory list for the food stores. He sat and looked at the paper cut on his index finger and she noticed almost at once.

"What happened? You two have another fight?"

"Just bickering. I lied about helping you with light fixtures to get out of the house."

"You hurt yourself?"

"Just a paper cut. Not the end of the world."

"Aw, let me look at it," she said. She took his hand in hers and examined the cut. "Paper cuts sting like a bitch," she said. "It needs cleaned, though. Can't be too careful about cuts."

"It's not the end of the world," Rick said.

Now that he was getting the attention from Michonne he wished Jessie would give him he felt a bit foolish. It wasn't a major injury. Just a tiny slice in the skin that didn't even cause much bleeding. Still, it did sting, and it stung worse when Michonne doused it in rubbing alcohol and then used that same little cotton ball to dab at it. She blew on the wound and cooled the burn before smiling up at him.

"It'll be okay once I get a bandage on it," she said.

"You didn't have to do this. I could've taken care of it."

"I know," Michonne acknowledged.

He could have taken care of it but he hadn't wanted to. He'd wanted someone else to do it, to dote on him, to make him feel like he mattered. She carefully wrapped his finger in a band aid and then put the alcohol and cotton balls back into the first aid kit before replacing it on the wall.

"What's wrong, Rick? What did you two bicker about?"

He shrugged. "This stupid cut."

"Let me guess, she told you it isn't the end of the world?" Michonne said.

"Yeah."

"You just wanted some attention."

"I'm a grown man, not a baby," he said, a little defensively.

Michonne rested her hand over his. "No, but even grown men want to feel loved."

"Jessie loves me."

Michonne nodded. "I've no doubt."

Michonne never badmouthed Jessie. Never. Not even when Rick vented and trashed her behind her back did Michonne have a bad word to say about her. In fact, she sometimes stuck up for Jessie, playing devil's advocate. They sat at the dining room table and Rick thought about the past year. He and Judith moving in with Jessie and her children. Carl refusing, angry that he'd chosen Jessie over Michonne, deciding to live with his 'Mom' as he called her.

He'd made a mistake. He knew that now. Jessie had been through too much shit with Pete. She expected more of the same from Rick, and when he refused to lift a hand to her she tried to antagonize him into it. When she realized he wouldn't be egged into hitting her she finally accepted counseling from a former psychiatrist. They'd worked through a lot of problems but the truth was they just weren't right for one another.

They didn't love one another. Not like lovers should.

He entwined his fingers with Michonne, lifted them to his lips for a gentle kiss.

"Rick," she said, pulling back, even if gently, and he let her go.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. "You…you make me feel important. Like I matter."

"You are important. You matter."

"I made a mistake. I should have never gotten with her," he said. "If I'd stayed here would you have had me?"

Michonne was quiet. Normally when Rick tried to start down this path she found a way to steer him off it. Today she didn't. As night began to fall and the kitchen began to darken around him, she stared into his eyes.

"Yes."

She got up to go to the kitchen sink, to flick on the light there to provide some light. It was less of a drain on the power. Before she could take more than a step Rick pulled her to him and found her lips with unerring accuracy. It was a simple kiss, nothing deep or passionate even. Just something simple, light, but unmistakable as the kiss of a lover.

"Will you have me still?" he asked.

Michonne smiled, feeling him pull her closer, feeling that old love, that desire for him that had never been realized, bubbling to the surface to make her heart pound. She finally nodded and he pressed her against the table, leaving her no choice but to wrap her legs around him, and feel the pressure of his steadily hardening member press against her soft core.

"It's just a paper cut, Rick. It's not the end of the world."

He kissed her again, deeply, slowly. "No, but it's the start of a new life."