Author's Note: Hi. I didn't plan to/really want to write this, but it kept crawling around in my head and I had to get it out. I hope you like it!

The title comes from the song, "A Slight Return Home" by Woodpigeon.

No spoilers if you've seen up to 9x06. This is all speculation/my imagination. Canon-compliant, for now.

a slight return home

After she realizes she's pregnant, she cries for ten nights straight.

She almost screams. She'd just managed to turn her nightly cries into manageable, sporadic occurrences, and now they were back with a vengeance, over something that should make her happy. That should make them happy. But there is no them, anymore. The he isn't here. And she's not happy. Not about anything.

So she cries. She puts Judith to bed after explaining again why Daddy hasn't been here to kiss her goodnight for such a long, long time, and then she goes into their room and she cries. She lays down on the bed, stretches her arm out into the empty space where he used to sleep, and she cries, cries, cries.

On the eleventh night, she cries for fifteen minutes before she decides that enough is enough.

She gets up and moves around quickly, throwing on the clothes she wore the day before and pulling on her boots, slinging her katana over her shoulder and then going to Judith's room. She wakes up her daughter, telling her to grab her blanket and stuffed bunny.

"Why, Momma?" Judith asks in a small, quiet voice, her eyes still half closed.

She plasters a smile on her face for her daughter.

"We're gonna go visit Uncle Aaron's house. Have a sleepover with him and Gracie."

"Gracie?" Judith asks, immediately perking up at the mention of the toddler. "Gracie's my friend."

"Yes, she is. So it'll be lots of fun."

Aaron answers her knock slowly, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand and looking at her curiously.

"Michonne?"

She hates to ask this of him. He's only just come home from the infirmary after losing his arm, and she knows he's still adjusting. She knows he's stressed and exhausted, and this is one of the last things he needs.

But Aaron is one of the last people left on Earth that she trusts, and she needs this, desperately.

"Would it be possible for you to watch Judith for a couple hours?"

He tilts his head to the side in his confusion, and it almost makes her break down on the spot.

"Uh. Why?"

"I need to...go somewhere."

"Now?" he questions. "It's the middle of the night."

"I know that," she says. "I know, but I need...I really need to go."

"Where?"

"Aaron, I'm - "

"Are you taking someone with you?"

She bites her lip, and glances down at the ground. His tone is sharp, and stern. Like he's her parent and caught her sneaking out of the house and into the dark.

"No," she whispers.

"Michonne," he says with a sigh, leaning his head against the doorframe. "Leaving in the middle of the night, all by yourself, without telling anyone where you're going? That sounds like a terrible idea. It kind of sounds suspicious, honestly."

He starts to say more, but he pauses, and holds back. It doesn't matter. She knows what he's thinking. She knows what he wants to tell her.

You're being irrational, because you're still grieving. He's gone, he's gone, and your sadness is clouding your mind. It's causing you to make bad decisions. You can't be trusted right now. Not yet.

Those thoughts burn inside her, and she tries to be offended, but she can't be. Because it's Aaron, of all people, and because he's genuinely concerned for her well-being. But mostly because he's gone through this, and he knows how it feels. He knows the pain that's eating her alive.

So she closes her eyes, swallows her fear and trepidation, and opens up to someone about it for the first time, the slightest bit.

"I'm going to the bridge," she admits, in the quietest voice she can manage. She's scared to say it too loudly. She's scared someone will hear, and try to take it from her.

Aaron doesn't answer. When she looks at him again, he's staring off into the distance. After a moment, he rubs his hand over his face.

Maybe he still won't accept it. Worry begins to twist in her gut.

"Please, Aaron, I need this. I just...need it, please. I know it's stupid and dangerous, and -"

"It's not stupid," he murmurs, cutting her off. "It's not."

She shrugs and nods once. Another beat passes between them.

"If you're not back by daybreak, I'm sending people out to look for you," Aaron says finally. "Whether you like it or not."

She almost cries in relief when she realizes he's doing this for her.

"Thank you," she whispers. "Thank you."

Judith's fallen back asleep on her shoulder, but she stirs when she passes the little girl over. The transfer is a little clumsy, with Aaron only being able to use one arm, but after a few seconds, he assures Michonne that he's got Judith, and she pulls back.

Judith stares at Michonne with squinted, sleepy eyes.

"I'll see you soon, baby. Okay?"

"Not coming with me?" Judith questions, an immediate pout appearing on her face.

"Not right now. Mommy's gotta go somewhere really quick, but she'll be back before you wake up from your sleepover."

"Don't leave," she demands in her tiny voice. She's fully alert now, and tears have started to gather in her eyes. "No. No, Momma."

Michonne frowns at her reaction. She leaves quite frequently. She always has, and Judith is used to it. It's the way she grew up, and she's never had a problem with it before.

"Judy, it's just for a little bit," she coos, trying to soothe the girl. She reaches out and takes Judith's hand. "You'll be safe with Uncle Aaron and Gracie, and I'll be back and we'll have breakfast together. Like we always do."

"Daddy said bye, and he's not home."

Judith's words hit Michonne like a brick to the head. She sways back on her feet, speechless.

"Judith," she hears Aaron say. He begins to bounce her up and down as he holds her.

Suddenly, Michonne unfreezes, and throws herself at Judith, nearly knocking Aaron over in the process. She squeezes her daughter close to her chest, plants kisses on her forehead, cheek, and nose.

"I'm coming back," she tells her, the conviction in her voice overwhelming. "I'm coming back. I promise you."

It was Michonne's singular mission in life, now. To always come back, no matter the cost or consequence.

"Pinky promise?" Judith murmurs.

Michonne almost smiles. Henry had taught Judith pinky promises during a visit from The Kingdom last week, and she's been obsessed with the concept ever since.

She leans back slightly, and wraps her much-bigger pinky around the little girl's.

"Pinky promise."

She sits at the edge of the creek that runs under the bridge, a handful of yards away from the remains of the ruined structure. She'd picked the spot arbitrarily, because she doesn't have a specific spot to go to.

They never found his body. They searched for days that turned into weeks, and came up with nothing.

They never found his body, and she hates it.

She hates the uncertainty it leaves in the deepest pit of her stomach, unresolved and churning. She hates that he was taken from her, completely. She hates that he is gone, and she wasn't even left with a body to bury. She hates that he is gone, and she doesn't know where he is.

She hates it so much that she's tempted to go searching now, even though it's pitch black out. But she has to be back by morning, so she decides against it, and instead finds a quiet, open spot by the water, and sits.

It makes her feel sick, being here. Nausea washes over her, and for the first time in what seems like ages, it isn't due to the cluster of cells growing in her uterus. She bends over and dry heaves violently.

There's a part of her that wants to leave. Wants to leave immediately, as fast as she can, and never come back to this cursed, awful place.

But the other part of her knows that she needs this. She needs him, and although she doesn't know where to find him, she knows that he was here, or at least near here, in his final moments. That's all she has. That's all she's been given.

So she takes what she can get. She clutches onto it, and takes a deep breath to steady herself.

Then, she speaks.

"I'm pregnant."

It's the first time she's spoken it aloud. The words startle her, and her hands begin to shake.

"I'm pregnant," she tells him, again. She can't think of anything else to say.

She closes her eyes, and for the first time since it happened, she lets herself see him.

At first, she can only picture him the way he was the last time she ever saw him: covered in blood and dirt, tired and vulnerable. A morbid resoluteness on his face that darkened his blue eyes, and that she could detect even from afar.

But she shakes her head, and scrunches her face as she concentrates. She turns the wheels in her brain and makes herself remember more.

The blood and dirt wash from his skin. His eyes brighten. He changes into his blue denim shirt and a smile turns up his lips. They're on their old couch, and his hair is long enough that it's started to curl at the ends. He smiles at her again, and she has mints in her hand and then they're kissing. His hands are everywhere, and she tastes him on her tongue, and she holds onto him for dear life. He moves so he's on top of her, and his weight presses her into the cushions, and for the first time since she saw the initial news report talking about some strange illness going around, she feels everything is right in the world.

She wiggles out from under him, and stands up. She leans down to press her mouth to his one more time, and then takes his hand and laces their fingers together. He giggles behind her as she drags him up the stairs, and she immediately decides it's her new favorite sound. They reach his room, and she pauses, turns to look at him. He smiles, and kisses her softly. Excitement and joy buzz together in her every atom.

"I'm pregnant," she tells him. She reaches and rests her right palm over her stomach, as her eyes begin to shine.

He changes. He looks like he did before it happened, and they're home and she's in their bathroom and he won't stop knocking and checking on her. She's smiling. She's staring down at two little lines and she can't stop smiling.

She throws the door open so fast that he almost tumbles, and she shows him the two little lines. He laughs, he laughs so loud, and picks her up and twirls her around, like all those happy couples do in movies. He kisses her, and doesn't put her down. She never wants him to put her down. He moves back for the briefest second, and then kisses her again, slowly and deeply. It's her favorite kiss she's ever had. He pulls back and he smiles, he smiles, he smiles.

"I'm pregnant," she tells him. A tear escapes from the corner of her eye, and falls down her cheek.

And for the first time since it happened, she smiles.

"I think that did it."

She snorts at his statement. She's laying on her back in their bed, naked and feeling that perfect combination of sated, exhausted, and happy. He's lying right beside her, same position, same nakedness, same feeling.

"That was the first time we tried," she reminds him.

"I know. I still think that did it. Y'know, we are pretty good at this sort of thing."

She turns her head and finds him already looking at her. When their eyes connect, he wiggles his eyebrows mischievously, and she laughs with her entire body before crawling on top of him.

"You're ridiculous," she says, as she traces her finger down the line between his pecs. "You know that, right?"

"I do," he confirms, catching her hand and holding it in his. "But that's why you love me, right?"

She rolls her eyes playfully, and then glances around their bedroom. She spots her books and notepads strewn across the floor at the foot of the bed.

"I want you to know that you're picking up all my work off the floor and organizing it again. Since you're the one that knocked it off the bed. It's only fair," she tells him.

"Whatever you want, my love."

She snorts again at the pet name.

"You're also cheesy. Ridiculous and cheesy."

"Like I told you, it's why you love me."

She hums. He's not wrong.

He reaches up and begins to play with her hair, and she rests her head down on his shoulder, in the crook of his neck. They lay there for a few minutes, both listening to the other breathe. She's just come upon the edge of sleep when she hears his voice rumble in his chest.

"Michonne?"

"Yeah?" she asks.

"I love you."

Her lips turn up. She inhales, and then presses a kiss over his heart.

"I love you, too."

She closes her eyes again, as he begins to tap the tips of his fingers up and down her spine, as if he's playing a piano.

She could lay here forever with him if she let herself. A large part of her wants to. But she knows there's a world outside their bedroom to think of. There are books to be studied, and notes to be written, and charters to be made.

She's about to tell him to go pick up her stuff, but he speaks before she can.

"You wanna try again?"

She laughs out loud, and lifts her head up to stare at him.

"I thought you said we already did it."

He smirks as he looks at her, and she watches lust fill up his eyes as his hand on her back travels lower to grab at her ass.

"There's nothing wrong with double-checkin'."

She shakes her head, but she can't hide the grin that takes over her face. He's ridiculous. Ridiculous, and cheesy, and hers.

He's all hers.

So she pushes thoughts of all the work she has to do to the back of her brain and locks them away. He will always come first. Him, their family, and their future.

She plants an open-mouthed kiss on the underside of his jaw, relishes in the soft moan it produces in the back of his throat. He shifts and maneuvers and rolls them over, so that he's lying on top of her again, and hitches her leg up around his waist.

"Yeah," he murmurs against her skin, as he begins to kiss and lick down her neck. "Definitely nothin' wrong with double-checkin'."

She rides through the gates of Alexandria just as the first rays of light start to peek over the horizon.

Aaron looks immensely relieved to see her when she arrives at his house. He ushers her in, and offers to make her a cup of tea while she goes upstairs to check on Judith.

When she looks into Gracie's room, she finds her daughter fast asleep, laying in a nest of fluffy pink blankets on the floor, bunny tucked under her arm, and mouth slightly open. Her heart swells, and she stands and watches the peaceful scene for a few more moments before pulling the bedroom door closed and walking downstairs.

When she walks into the kitchen, she finds Aaron standing over two mugs. He grabs one and hands it to her as she settles at the kitchen island, and she brings the cup to her mouth, breathing in the warm, soothing steam exuding from the water and tea inside. Aaron comes around and stands beside her.

For a few minutes, the only sounds are of the house settling, and of slight slurping noises as they take careful sips of their hot drinks.

"I hope you don't mind me asking," Aaron begins, "and feel free not to answer. But what did you need to do out there?"

She shrugs, and sets her mug down on the black-and-white marble countertop. She doesn't mean to answer him, but the words spill out before she can stop them.

"I'm pregnant," she whispers. "I needed to tell him."

It's simple, she supposes, when it's broken down like that.

Aaron doesn't react either way, and she's so thankful for that she almost hugs him. He doesn't congratulate her, and he doesn't look at her with pity. He just nods once, and lets the words settle between them.

"Did you?" he asks, after a moment. "Tell him?"

"Yeah. I did."

Aaron nods again, and then downs the rest of his tea in one, long gulp. Afterwards, he walks over and sets his mug in the sink.

"If it's okay with you," he tells her, "I'm gonna go upstairs. I couldn't sleep most of the night, so I'm gonna see if I can get in a couple hours before Gracie gets up."

She figures that's partly her fault, and she presses her lips together in an apologetic half-smile as she looks at him. He goes to leave the kitchen. As he passes by her, he reaches out and squeezes her shoulder gently.

She listens to his footsteps as he walks up the stairs, and then hears the click of his bedroom door closing. The house is quiet again. She glances around idly, and the window catches her eye. The soft gray sky that greeted her when she entered the gates has turned into brilliant pinks and oranges and purples.

She takes her mug and walks to the front door, opening it up and stepping outside. The town is still quiet. Only a few people mill about the streets. She sits down in the rocking chair on Aaron's front porch and watches.

She's always loved to rise early and watch the world around her wake up. In her old life, she would wake up far earlier than Mike and Andre most Saturdays and Sundays, and drink coffee as she gazed out the windows in their apartment, looking on as Atlanta came to life beneath her. And in Alexandria, she would sometimes sit out on the porch, like she is now, or on the balcony. She would breathe in the fresh morning air as she observed the world turn from night to day.

She hasn't done it in awhile. Not since it happened.

She sits there, today, rocking back and forth in her chair, and taking occasional sips of her tea. Her free hand falls to her stomach, and she watches the sun rise.

A/N: Aaron and Michonne friendship for the win, am I right or am I right?

There will be 2-3 more chapters of this, as long as I can concentrate enough to get it done.

I hope you liked it! Let me know what you think. And I hope you're all doing okay.

xoxo,
Rebekah