I had the idea of a little semi fluff and semi angst fic. It should be short about 7 to 8 chapters.

I don't own the walking dead

Prologue: airport break-up & consequences

Rows of empty chairs stare back at Rick. Last calls for late passengers clash with airport's announcements. The room shrinks around Rick Grimes. The young man calls his fiancé, but he can't reach her. There is the word departed next to her flight number. Out of rage, Rick throws his phone to the floor.

His rage is part of the problem in addition to the secrecy. Rick does not know what he needs to do. Tears fill the inner corner of his eyes. With his thumb, he tries to wipe them as they fall. Fazed and lost, Rick stands in the middle of the airport. People fill the place and parade around a frozen Rick.

Michonne left, and He lost the love of a lifetime. Despite the pain, he deserves to lose her. He cannot erase her presence from his mind.

Three thousand six hundred seconds, sixty minutes, or an hour too late, which is the reason why Rick mourns his loss.

The tears are cold on his burning skin, and his sobs threaten to break his lung airflow. Rick's thoughts are successive ramblings. There is a mixture of reason and illogicalness. Ultimately, Rick lost the most amazing woman to grace the earth. Michonne is his peace and sweet angel.

Her love is no longer enough, but she tried to stand by him. However, he is a danger to everyone, and she cannot just be a bystander while he ruins his life and reputation. With time, Rick ceased being the man who deserves her. When Michonne tried to help him, he should have listened. Now, He admits his lacunas. The shock of her departure clears the fog, which covered his mind. Pain renders Rick wiser, and the reason can emerge to the surface.

Rick cannot live without Michonne, and Michonne cannot live without him. Yet she chooses to live a life of loneliness. Their relationship cannot continue. Together, they are destructive. Rick and Michonne's relationship is a conundrum.

Every time they argue, Rick pushes Michonne beyond her mental limits. In the end, love no longer matter. He broke the promises, which he made to her. A woman like Michonne can't tolerate the hypocrisy of his world.

The drug, the alcohol, and the parties, he would have stopped or hidden it better. Rick tumbles backwards and sits down. He stares at travellers in a hurry. Michonne's voice echoes around him. His tears are dry, and his heart stops to beat. An hour is what he needed, just an hour to beg. How long will it take before he self-destroys without her? He was already on that path anyway.

Their short separation helped her, but it did not help Rick. It will take no time before numbness invades his mind, and alcohol may help to fasten the process. Alcoholism, the drug abuse, and so much more. She claims that he has a problem, but Rick can't see it. In a professional setting, he uses all type of things to enhance his performance or just to numb his nerve. Rick is a trader, and the job comes with some toxic practices. He is young and reckless, though too reckless for the woman he loves. After his second overdose, Michonne no longer knows what to do.

Rick does not want her to struggle, but he is selfish. He needs her, but she does not need him. Rick isn't oblivious to the hurt, and often he asks too much of Michonne. Despite his flaws, he loves her. It used to justify everything and earn her forgiveness. Now, his love is a pitiable excuse of what it used to be. Michonne is better without him.

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Rick senses someone sitting by his side, and he wants to ask him or her to leave. However, he is too exhausted to care. Dreadlocks tingle his skin. He opens his eyes to stare at a curtain of dreadlocks. Michonne's head leans on Rick's shoulder.

For a minute, the young man is silent, and he does not know what to say nor which God to thank. His glistening blue eyes filled with tears take a long time to find her warm brown ones. Ultimately, he stares at the brown of her eyes, and Rick recovers his senses. The love of his life is here with him, in this empty airport.

"You're late." The words reshape her beautiful lips.

Rick has never been happier to hear her. Michonne sounds so calm. Despite her calming presence, Rick's agitation doesn't decrease. Her eyes never leave him, and she places her hand on top of his.

His fingers slide between her slender ones. Her touch is a comforting home. Tonight, he needs to hold her finger as a reminder that she is real. Michonne pulls her luggage to the side, and Rick looks at the offending object.

"You're still here, are you sweetheart?" Rick replies with empty arrogance.

The trader does not feel as confident as he sounds. His question disguises other fears. Michonne nods as an answer. He is thankful that she is still here with him. Rick kisses her to silence his commanding heart and his fears. He takes away her air, and Michonne melts under his touch. A little tear forms in the corner of her eyes. It starts rolling on her cheek and breaks on Rick's cupid bow. When the tear wets his skin, Rick knows something is wrong.

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"I knew you will be late…" Michonne speaks when Rick's lips free her lips.

With trembling hands, she wipes the new tears and cleans any trace of previous tears. Michonne needs to be brave and calm her dithering nerves. The young woman squeezes his hand. She allows Rick's warmth to help her during this hardship. He needs to know, and she needs to understand their relationship.

"You're always late. Remember, I know everything about you. I waited so long." Three years, she does not mention it, but she waited three long years.

Nothing changed, and the situation deteriorated. They spent many nights arguing and some mornings too. Three years during which Rick found many ways to destroy his physical health and her sanity. A slow eternity spent in hell is incomparable to those three years.

"You must be tired to always wait for me?" Rick asks with a lot of concern.

The sentence means more than what his words translate. She knows what he attempts to ask.

It is exhausting to wait for a better version on me. It is exhausting to hope I can outgrow the only lifestyle I know. It is exhausting to wait for this love. It is a one-way ticket to a hell and brings out the worse in us. It is exhausting to love me.

Despite lacking the right words, the meaning of his statement is clear. Michonne's lips wear a bittersweet smile, and her hand continues to squeeze his hand. She moves her head and presses her lips to his neck. Rick sighs, yet he is grateful for a touch of comfort.

"I have tried …" Michonne hesitates, and the loudness of her voice fluctuates. The words are soft whispers, which Rick cannot hear.

"Holding your hand… I tried. Please, tell me you know I did." After few encouraging caresses, she regains the courage to express herself.

Michonne knows that somehow he has reached the same conclusion. She wants to say so much more, but he understands.

"It's all end here sweetheart, and you did more than trying," with unadulterated fragility to his voice, Rick answers.

Ultimately, he receives the answers to his silent questions. Rick's hands frame Michonne's face. With his thumbs, he tenderly tries to wipe away every single tear pouring out her loving brown eyes. She kisses the centre of his palm. Michonne places her hand above one of his hand, and her fingers intertwine with his. She drags their joint hands away from her cheeks. She wants to memorize the sensation of his touch.

Michonne's head rests on his shoulder, and she has an iron grip on his arm. She is silent longer than needed, and the young woman thinks about a safe topic. At one point in time, the man by her side was her best friend, and every topic was safe. It was a slow destruction. When she met Rick, he had a better ability to hide his problems. When they started to leave together, she began to notice them. She tried to fix everything. Desperately, she tried to fix him. However, if they do not desire to improve, people are unfixable.

Michonne tries to protect herself from a heartbreak, and she struggles while she is shattering Rick's heart. Perhaps, she is unable to go through with it.

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"Is it… Is it really ending? How do we end us? Rick, where do we start? I was so set to leave, but you were late." She cries on his shoulder, and she is unable the end of their love.

Michonne cannot imagine a minute without him. Rick is the only man, who she has known and loved. He is everything to her. He will always be everything to her. Therefore, how can she imagine the end of such consuming love?

"I am so sorry … I am sorry for coming here, and I am sorry for failing at loving you." Rick does what he was supposed to do long ago.

He cannot breathe while his words encourage her to end their relationship. It is a fight of character, but he has to do it. Michonne will never break the circle. She is admirably loyal, and he has overexploited her beautiful soul.

"You need to go. If you stay, nothing will change. I will be the same, but I don't know who you're going to be, Chonne." Rick can no longer ignore the truth.

He witnessed how much Michonne changed over the years. Her smile no longer illuminates a room, and worries have eaten from inside.

"you're always late…" she repeats herself.

Perhaps, he is also late in the personal growth process. A few more days to wait or a year does, it matter? Now, their break up is tangible, and she cannot survive the shattering pain. Michonne cannot leave the love of her life. Although, it means endangering herself. His constant anger and the lack of control. What happens if the next time, she is a victim of his temper flaring? How will she survive the day when he does not make it out of the intensive care unit? She loves him so much. Perhaps, she enables some of his behaviours for this reason.

"I booked the last flight of the day, so I could see you and talk to you. It never mattered. Nothing mattered more than loving you…" Her throat constricts, and she can't speak.

The sobs modify her speech ability. Awkward sounds swallow her words. She takes his face in her palms, and she stares into the blue of his eyes. She wants him to understand why she needs to leave.

"I won't survive more unfulfilled promises. I will not survive the lies about your sobriety. Another call will disrupt my world. How many times can I sit on your dying side? I tried Rick…"

"Tell me to stay. Lie to me and promise me that you will change. I will wait." Tears and a different fire brighten the brown of Michonne eyes.

each of her words makes a heart-breaking her plea. Michonne cannot leave, and she cannot let go of Rick. Once again, it stopped to matter, and her unselfish love controls her reason.

"I would love to lie, sweetheart. What do you want to hear? We've so many hours before you leave. Do you remember the children we wanted? Curly black hair and mischievous blue eyes. As pretty as their mama. Chonne, I can lie if you want me too, but you won't have the life you want with me." Rick says sincerely, and he admits his failure.

Michonne shakes her head. All she wants to hear is that he is not allowing her to leave.

"We can talk about the crazy sex that we're going to have inside the airport toilets?" He winks, and she tries to smile.

"All I want is you, and it does not matter how. I can't do it, babe. That was not why I waited, and you can't just decide to switch roles. Tell me to stay because you need me to stay." She orders him to ask her to stay.

She has her forehead pressed to his forehead, and she is stealing his air. With Her eyes tightly shut, Michonne refuses to look at him while he casts her away.

"You want me but Chonne, you don't need me." Rick kisses her, and so he can silence her protest.

He will love her until his life ends, and he hoped it would end with her by his side. Sharing his twisted life and universe, but she needs to leave while she can. He understands it now. It is unavoidable.

Rick removes the neckless that he always wears and places on it Michonne's engagement ring, which he pulls from her finger. He looks at her with a smile on his lips. Rick stand and pulls her away from her seat, and so he can make right by the last promise that he made to her. Michonne does not resist.

Michonne's fingers carry a different meaning. In the narrow cabin, there is no space between their naked skins, yet they can't feel close enough. Rick's lips are voraciously devouring the curve of her neck. He presses hot open-mouth kisses on her pulse.

His teeth graze her shivering skin and travel until her plump lower lip. Rick's lips aggressively recover hers, and the strokes of his tongue demand more of her. They are both famished.

Michonne matches his passion, and her languishment pours out into her caresses. Eager to free his skin, she pulls on his shirt, and he accidentally presses her against the hard wall. Her back roughly hits the wall, but she cannot feel the sharp pain travelling her spine.

Rick's hand travels from her breast to the opening of her skirt. It snakes its way around the hot flesh of her tights. His fingers linger on her soft skin, and they reverently caress every inch of her skin. She moans in his mouth while her hand claws on his bare back. She has an iron grip on his curls. Rick presses his salient muscles to her body, and she melts into his embrace. Her body begs for air, but she refuses to relinquish the pleasurable taste of his mouth. Her lips devour his eagerly due to the tormenting thought of future losses.

Michonne only breathes when Rick breaks their kiss. He stares at her and feeds his mind with her beauty. The young man wants to remember her through their years as she is now. He wants the memory of her skin shivering under his touch, and her eyes darkening due to a powerful need to have him.

When her mouth collides with the softness of his neck, Michonne stops Rick's contemplation. Her tongue darts out to lick his skin. He groans and lifts her, and so she can wrap her leg around his hips.

Rick's fingers quickly encounter the heat between her legs. He slowly opens her slit and slides a finger inside her. Her core welcomes the invasion, and Michonne's wetness drenches his finger. She moans against his skin. His lips move from her erected nipple to her mouth, and so he silences her moans.

Michonne is too loud for a public place. She kisses him with sensuality and suaveness. Her tongue lazily plays with his. She nips his bottom lip, and he slides another finger into her vagina. She loses herself to his tender touch.

The young woman feverishly unbuckles Rick's pants, and she starts to grind her pelvis against his hard dick. Rick removes his fingers and places his erected manhood at the entrance of her labia. With a lazy stroke, he enters her. Michonne bites his shoulder, and her core grips on his engorged flesh.

Rick thrusts harder with complete abandon, and her cries grow louder and hoarse. The idea that anyone may catch them fuels their passion. Her nails are drawing patterns on her back, and her hot breath warms his skin. He thrusts multiple times, and she almost reaches her climax with each of the perfectly timed strokes. Her grip on him is tighter than it has ever been. He drives her to unknown edges, and the knowledge of future separation inflames their coupling.

Michonne's mouth is everywhere on Rick's skin. His lips and tongue pleasure the burning skin around her hard nipple. She breathes in his scent, and she can let go of his skin. Soon tears form in the corner of her eyes. The cold tears fall on his shoulder and wet his heated skin. if it means breaking apart, she refuses to climax.

His dick strokes are more aggressive, and Michonne can no longer withhold her orgasm. She loses to his dedication to rearrange her inside. She comes all over his member. She starts to shed tears. Rick does not pull his manhood out of her. He kisses her until the first wave of tears ends.

"I love you." She succeeds to say after the last hiccup. They take a long time to dress up. The couple leaves the bathroom and retakes their seat. An entire hour passes before Michonne finds her words. She asks to hear about their imaginary children. She wants him to distract her. Rick is more collected than she is.

"I will be their favourite parent, they will pay you dust. Two boys and a girl, my princess." He says to her, and Michonne has a dreamy look trying to portray such family.

Michonne caresses her belly absentmindedly, and He laughs at the seriousness on her face. Rick's laugh becomes contagious. It is a fluttering moment of happiness, and so abnormal when they are both aware the epilogue of their days.

They call for the boarding her flight, and this time Michonne has no choice. Rick help her out of her seat. It is the hardest thing that he has ever done in his life. Worried that he may lose his resolve, He refuses to look at her brown eyes, but she takes his face between her palms. They stare at each other with a silent agreement. It is the best for Michonne.

"I love you," he says for the last time and kisses her.

Michonne grabs his shirt so tightly. Consequently, he has to apply a light pressure to remove her fingers. Rick steps back so she can enter the boarding area. The young can't unglue her feet from the ground. Twenty minutes later, her plane takes off with her inside, and Rick stays two more hours in a now full airport.

Rome 4 months after the break up.

Paris was overrated and not a good city for new beginnings, Michonne learned it four months ago. The first things, which greeted her in the city of lights, were a gloomy sky and very unhelpful locals. She tried to live there a week, but Paris was not a city for her. Therefore, she bought a ticket for a sunnier destination, Barcelona. Michonne ended up disliking the city too because they were too many tourists, and that was how she ended up in Rome.

Four months in Rome, everything was perfect until this very awkward moment. Michonne wishes the floor would swallow her. She is so embarrassed. She draws a deep breath but it was the wrong thing to do. The street is crowded, and all the scents in the air assault her sensible nose. The brewed dark coffee, the dry smell tobacco on her date's skin, and the dusty scents associated with the inconvenience of living in a busy area. Michonne stomach churns, and bitterness recovers her salivating tongue as a warning.

She cannot do much about it, and her inside twists dramatically at every scent. For a second time in the night, Michonne senses the build-up of vomit. Although her hand covers her mouth, it isn't enough. Green contents spill out of her mouth and splash her date.

Once is not embarrassing enough, she has to vomit on the poor man a second time. Fortunately, this time, she aimed for his shoes. Once she looks at his shirt, it is a different story.

"I'm so sorry Mike…" Michonne put an embarrassed hand on her mouth.

The taste on her tongue announces that another round is coming. Therefore, she does not finish her sentence and starts running to her apartment's door. Mike, her date for the night, looks at her with a mixture of worry and relief. To see if everything his right, He follows her into her apartment

"Now, Chonne, you're visibly sick. The best thing I can do is to help. Perhaps, something to clean this." He asks politely.

Vomiting was not enough, and Michonne has to humiliate herself more. She feels the saline in her mouth and nose beforehand. Mike sweetness makes her sensitive. Tears start pouring, and she profusely apologizes for her exuberance. Michonne is turning into a sort of hormonal and systemic mess. The genuine observation opens the box of Pandora.

Michonne draws a deep breath, and this time, she has a better reaction to the aroma-saturated air. She does not like the speed of her sudden recovery.

"Please wait here. Can I have your shirt and shoes, please? If you want to shower there is a guest bathroom." She struggles to smile because her mind speeds to a conclusion about her health. Her smile comes out as a grimace.

"I will just take a wet towel, and be on my way." When she hears the statement, Michonne breathes out such a happy sigh, and now she needs to apologize.

She walks into her bathroom and comes back with a small wet hot towel.

"I… I am really sorry." She presses the towel in his hands, and her date only smiles as an answer.

It makes her feel worse. He is being too kind to her, and she threw up on his shirt and shoes. Michonne starts feeling guilty, and the tears threaten to fall again.

"Don't be this is a great story to tell." Mike kisses her cheek once he finishes cleaning his face, and he walks out of her apartment.

As soon as he leaves, Michonne needs to appease her agitated mind. She picks her phone and runs through her applications. Why did it take her three months to start worrying about her lack of menstruation? First, she blamed it on the environmental change. Now in the pit of her stomach, no pun intended, she knows better.

Freaking pregnant, FREAKING PREGNANT. She reads on the stick two minutes after she freshly peed on it. She remembers the stupid joke Rick made in the airport, and she starts crying. She can't blame it on the hormones. She left a complicated situation to enter into another one. She has no real choice in keeping the baby. After her first clinical visit, she discovers that she has been carrying a child for four months. It is too advanced for an abortion.

Michonne Barnes, twenty-five years old, and pregnant with her ex-fiancé's baby. Can it get worse?

PLease review