Chapter Text
5.
As stressful as it had been, especially for Michonne, Rick couldn’t deny that he’d enjoyed the many late nights they’d spent, Michonne sitting between his legs, leaning against his chest, poring over various binders, trying to decide on flowers, colors, rugs, and a host of other details Rick had never realized were involved in weddings.
When he married Lori, she decided to do everything herself, and Rick didn’t find out what had been decided until the day of the wedding. Michonne wanted him to be a part of it if he wanted to be, and they both discovered that planning a wedding together could be a bit tiring, but lovely and even fun. Rick had lost count of the number of times Michonne had laughed out loud while he hid his own laughter behind her cheek, at some comment that might not have been all that funny.
On one of the last nights when they were finally finishing everything, Rick’s heart was gradually pounding, the realization that he was actually going to marry Michonne making him nervous and happy at the same time. The day hadn’t even arrived, and he already knew it would be perfect, even if everything went wrong—because that would be the day he would become Michonne’s husband.
“Rick?” Michonne called, closing the binder and placing it on the table. She turned to him and placed her hand on his chest, on his still-beating heart. “Are you okay? Did something happen? We still have time to change the lilies.”
Rick looked at her, so beautiful, so concerned for him, so sensitive, so many adjectives that he could spend an eternity praising her. He was about to spend the rest of his life with her, and with that thought taking over his mind and racing his heart, he moved in for a slow kiss, which deepened the instant Michonne gasped and their tongues met. He pulled her on top of him, laying down on the couch and sighing against her lips as he spread his legs to fit her, their groins meeting perfectly.
Michonne moaned and shifted her hips as Rick licked her teeth along her upper lip, breathing into her mouth. Groggily, he whispered, “I can’t believe I’ll get to call you my wife,” as he brought his hands to Michonne’s ass, slipping into her pants without hesitation. She propped her knees on the couch and lifted herself just enough to undo her belt, unzip her pants, and do the same to Rick, cursing the dinner they’d had earlier for preventing them from changing into their comfortable, home clothes.
“And you’re going to be my husband,” Michonne said, her eyes meeting Rick’s, her smile like a fox’s, as her hand found Rick’s half-hard member. Unashamed, he jumped into her grasp, moving his waist and tightening his abdomen. Michonne bit her lip at the sight, and pulled his white shirt higher for a better look, until Rick himself pulled it over his head. “You like this idea, don’t you? Of being completely mine.”
Michonne covered Rick’s body with hers, beginning to leave hickeys all over him and reveling in his moans and cries. Few things made her wetter than hearing Rick’s voice, completely sly for her. Her teeth fearlessly scored Rick’s white and red skin, leaving a blue and purple line where she knew he would most respond. All this while her hand worked steadily under his underwear—Rick was gripping Michonne’s ass as if his very life depended on it, fucking her hand as if he were actually inside her. She pressed her thighs against his, barely able to contain how wet she was; she’d planned to reuse those pants when she went to get breakfast the next morning, but that wasn’t a good idea anymore.
“Michonne, please,” Rick moaned, practically breathless, as she continued to move his hand in that way Rick loved and had never experienced in anyone else he’d been with before her. “Please, I’m about to—”
Michonne smirked and whispered in his ear, “Come for me, future husband. Show me what belongs to me.”
Neither of them imagined the animalistic sound Rick made as he came, her words still echoing in his ear. Michonne watched with her mouth watering as Rick’s spine arched as he groaned and gripped the fabric of the couch with all his strength. And Rick just let himself feel the unregulated pleasure that came that night, his mind focused solely on Michonne and everything about her. When he finally calmed down, breathing heavily, and lay back on the couch, Michonne was staring at him with a surprised expression, her lips parted.
Rick smiled and sat down, holding her and switching their positions on the couch, already pulling down her pants and panties. “Well, this is going to be fun.” And Rick couldn’t quite remember which of them had said those words as he descended to drown in Michonne.
The closer the wedding drew, the more serious and frightening everything became—as much as Rick was looking forward to the day he’d stand at the altar with Michonne, becoming her husband, he couldn’t help but notice details here and there that she silently revealed, and a unease feeling rose in his heart and stomach. It was common for couples to cancel marriages at the last minute because one partner had backed out, and Rick was afraid they’d become one of those couples.
He hadn’t talked to anyone about it, and he didn’t even know how to bring it up with Michonne. The day he’d decided to talk to Maggie about it when he went to lunch with her, he woke in the middle of the night to the sound of vomiting and coughing. Their room was a suite, which usually allowed Carl, Andre, and Judith to sleep peacefully, without hearing much.
The other side of the bed was empty, and Rick shook the sleep from his eyes, heading to the bathroom. Not even when they’d gone out and had more than enough to drink had Rick seen Michonne like this: her eyes were red with tears, and she was practically hugging the toilet. Rick squatted beside her on the bathroom floor, but before he could say anything, she vomited again, and he simply grabbed her hair, redoing the bun that had fallen out. Michonne wiped her mouth with toilet paper when she was finished and said hoarsely, “Go to sleep, Rick. You don’t have to stay here.”
Rick rolled his eyes, shaking his head from side to side, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth at Michonne’s still-innocent belief that something could make him walk away from her.
“Is there anything you need? I can make some homemade saline solution, or get one quickly at the pharmacy,” Rick offered, running his hand over her face and checking to see if she had a fever. Michonne looked at him with a smile that was both happy and sad, and stroked his cheek with her hand.
“You’re kind, Rick. But I don’t think any sodium solution will fix this,” Michonne said, and the way she looked at him told Rick everything subliminally.
“No!” he exclaimed in shock, and then laughed heartily, grabbing Michonne’s hand in his lap and kissing it, barely containing his excitement. He felt like he’d just won the lottery. “We’re going to be parents again. We’re going to have a child, Michonne. And this time together!”
Rick laughed again, but calmed down when he saw Michonne’s face. Even though she had a happy smile, she didn’t seem the least bit excited about any of this; for a moment, Rick thought it was obviously due to the situation she was in and what she would go through in the coming months, but he knew her well enough to know it wasn’t just that. And combined with her behavior over the past few days, it made sense that it was related to the pregnancy.
“Michonne, love? What’s going on?” Rick asked, and she began to cry uncontrollably, immediately being hugged by a heartbroken Rick. Michonne buried her face in his shoulder, her body trembling beneath his hands as he whispered softly in her ear and pressed kisses into her hair.
Seeing Michonne like that was always a pain he was never prepared to feel.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Michonne said, her voice tearful. She pulled her face from Rick’s shoulder and ran her hands over her face, taking a deep breath. Rick ran his own hands over her face, wiping it and holding it in his. “I’m sorry, I just… I’m just—I don’t know.”
“No, no, no need to apologize, honey,” Rick whispered, caressing her temple and looking at her, hoping all his love was being passed on. “I’m here, okay? And I’m not going anywhere.”
Michonne nodded, her lips trembling and a few more tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’m scared, Rick. Of all of this. Of the wedding. Of the pregnancy. Of us.”
Rick felt his stomach churn, and something in his expression made Michonne take his hands, placing them on her bent knees and massaging Rick’s skin with her thumbs.
“Hey, don’t— don’t doubt for one second my love for you, Rick,” Michonne added immediately, lifting his chin to look at her when he lowered his gaze. “You came straight out of my wildest dreams. I’ve always been yours, even before I met you.”
She took a deep breath, and Rick nodded, admiring her beautiful, even with her worried, features. It was Rick’s turn to squeeze her hands, kissing one of her wrists and bringing it to his heart.
“I’m just terrified that everything will go wrong, Rick,” she admitted, looking at him. “Maybe it’s the hormones, or the wedding jitters, I don’t know. But all that goes through my head is the divorce rate worldwide and in the United States, the divorce cases I handle, the division of assets, the children’s feelings, the children’s trusts, the children’s finances, and all the other details of... mistakes,” her eyes reddened again, and she sighed. “And I love you in such a bizarre way that I’m afraid we’ll end. Everything has always been so good between us. We overcame the problems of moving together. And now we’re officially getting married, and there are so many problems that can come with that. I can’t explain why, but the rate—God, the rate says so much about marriages. And now we’re going to have a child. You and me. And then I’m afraid that pregnancy will make me lose what you admire about my body and me, and I—”
Rick was listening to her with rapt attention, because he’d never been the type to cut her off just because he didn’t agree. Nothing she’d said was something he agreed with, but he knew where it was all coming from. But when Michonne started talking about the pregnancy, he couldn’t help himself, and with her face in his hands, he kissed her. She immediately pulled away, surprised, and blurted out, “Rick, I just threw up!”
With a laugh and licking his lips as he pinched her nose, he agreed, “Yeah, it wasn’t the best taste in the world,” Michonne let out a nauseated laugh that made his heart melt. “But it helped take your mind off the idea that someday I won’t love and want you. This is forever, Michonne. Physically or not. You are the most beautiful woman, now or when you’re in the beautiful dress you chose for our wedding that you haven’t let me see yet. And I’m with you, no matter what. If you want to call off the wedding, if you don’t want to have this child, whatever decision you make, I’ll be by your side. It’s us, Michonne, and whatever happens, we’ll continue to be us, regardless of the expectations of the rest of the world. It’s our relationship, our love, and I love us. You and our children are the greatest certainty in my life, Michonne. And you always will be.”
Michonne smiled and laughed, still crying, but this time happy, and hugged Rick again, stroking the back of his neck. When she pulled away, Rick could see the change in her face, the hope and love speaking louder than all the doubts from before.
“You’re going to have to endure nine more months of this,” Michonne said, pinching her nose and massaging the curve of his neck with his shoulder.
“Only if you can handle nine months of me talking to your belly,” Rick countered, barely containing his happiness at hearing those words from his future wife and mother of his child.
“You’re going to be the best husband in the world, you know that?” she said gently, and Rick felt shivers run through his body, his arteries and blood vessels working faster than ever to circulate his blood, knowing she thought that.
“I hope so,” he replied, looking at Michonne with a look that promised a lifetime of love and respect.
They decided not to tell anyone other than Carl, Andre, and Judith about the pregnancy—and it was difficult to contain their excitement or convince them that it should still be kept a secret. Both Michonne and Rick were afraid to share the news with the three of them, but they were excited by the idea of their family expanding; Judith especially, because she wouldn’t be the youngest anymore. The wedding was in a few weeks, and Michonne knew her belly wouldn’t grow enough to stand out and arouse suspicion. She hadn’t told Rick what it was like yet, but she assured him the dress wouldn’t be a problem, and they wanted—she especially, because Rick would follow her lead on that—for the wedding to be about their union, not the gossip and comments, which certainly wouldn’t be entirely pleasant, about the pregnancy. Michonne was more than excited about this child growing inside her womb, which would cause her a lot of strange feelings for the next nine months, but he would still wait a while to have the spotlight on him.
And Maggie was pregnant enough that, when it came to pregnancy, she would be the one suffering from the comments. The eight months were approaching, and she could barely stand the pain and swelling, with Glenn constantly helping her and trying his best, even when Maggie broke down here and there. He sought Rick’s help in those moments, earning a laugh and a pat on the back from his friend, receiving the advice: “We handle the snaps, and they handle everything else.”
When Rick finally found himself on the beach Michonne had chosen for the wedding, with everything perfectly arranged for the happiest day of his life, his heart struggled to burst from his chest, held back only by the thought of keeping Rick alive. Everything was just as they’d planned over the past few days sitting on the couch, with the occasional detail that had been forced to change due to a few issues, but which they had grown accustomed to and grown to love all the same.
“Dude, I think you’re the bride in this wedding,” Daryl teased, as Rick was getting ready for the wedding in the bedroom. His voice was still a little slurred from the previous night’s drinks, but he was awake enough to ensure Rick calmed down at least a little.
“In a few minutes, I’ll be Michonne’s husband,” Rick said, the words tumbling out of his mouth with phenomenal speed. As much as he loved the word husband, now it was carrying a sense of dread. “What if I screw up, man?”
“Bro, you two are the clingiest, most disgusting couple I’ve ever had the displeasure of seeing here in Atlanta, and I have to put up with Glenn and Maggie,” Daryl grumbled, and Glenn let out a “hey!” from the couch where he was sitting. “Connie, Dog and Carol are the two things I believe in this life. And you and Michonne? You guys are the second. This will work out, man. It’s working out today. Think about it.”
The room was silent for a few seconds, as Rick let Daryl’s words settle quietly in his mind, while he, Glenn, Carol, and Rosita stared at him in surprise.
“Who knew Daryl Dixon had a sweet side?” Carol managed to stir the danger, and Daryl gave her a grim look, which made the rest of the room chuckle. “Go on, a few more minutes and I want the groom and best man at the altar,” Carol ordered, as Rosita, Aaron, and Glenn left the room. “I’m going to check on the bride.”
Rick smiled, thinking of Michonne getting ready in one of the rooms of the house that, by the end of that night, would be theirs alone. He sat on the comfortable sofa, and with a hidden smile, Daryl sat in the chair, while Rick did his best to get Daryl to talk about his relationship with Connie, which was increasingly developing. Rick had never seen him like this, and it was good to know he wasn’t walking around alone and closed off from life anymore. Connie appeared in the room to let them know it was time to go to the altar, and after kissing Daryl on the cheek, she looked at Rick with a huge smile and complimented him, which he returned.
“Hey, hey, no funny business. You already have your woman,” Daryl said seriously, making both Connie and Rick roll their eyes and smile at the look on his face.
Standing before the altar next to Paul, Rick had a good view of his friends and family sitting in the chairs, smiling and excited for the wedding they were about to witness. His parents and Michonne’s parents chatted in the front row, and Rick was happy to see they had hit it off—his father and Mr. Hawthorne had quickly bonded over their former firefighter jobs, and his mother and Mrs. Hawthorne were happy to chat about old soap operas and their favorite plays. Carl and Andre chatted like two men, and Rick smiled when he saw them, always appreciating the brotherhood they had created over the years, even with their age difference. Andre was going off to college that year, and with his one year of experience, Carl was happy to help him with a few things here and there.
Judith’s seat was empty, and Rick searched the lawn for her, feeling his heart tighten with worry. He could see his friends sitting, chatting and smiling, but none of them were with her. Rick was ready to turn to Daryl and desperately tell them to go find Judith when The Blue Danube Waltz began playing through the orchestra they’d hired, and Judith appeared in front of Michonne, while all the guests stood, facing the bride.
Rick had no words to describe either of them: Judith looked beautiful in a white dress with Rick’s hat on her head, which caused a few chuckles from the audience. She dropped flower petals as she and Michonne walked toward the altar. And Michonne—God, Michonne. Rick had never seen a more beautiful sight in his entire life: the white dress clung perfectly to her body, to every curve, every limb. She was the most beautiful sight on that beach, and Rick knew he would be the luckiest man in the world forever.
He hadn’t seen Michonne’s father leave the front row, but then he was passing Michonne’s hand through his, offering no words, but a questioning look and a nod that said it all. Rick bent down to Judith, and with that mischievous child’s smile, she pinned the white flower to Rick’s blazer. She let out a loud, happy laugh when he gave her a quick tickle on her belly, then walked to the front row and sat next to an equally excited Carl.
Rick stood and looked at Michonne, their hands intertwined, and the two of them stood there, at the altar set on the beach, the breeze ruffling her hair and sweeping the hem of Michonne’s dress aside, making for the most beautiful moment of all.
Before Paul began the ceremony, Rick whispered to Michonne, “You look beautiful.”
“And you look like my future husband,” Michonne whispered back, her face level with his shoulder in a smug expression, knowing exactly the effect that term—which would soon be fully realized—had on Rick.
He just laughed, and when Paul called everyone's attention to begin the ceremony, Rick looked into Michonne's brown eyes, and all the nervousness he'd been feeling a few minutes ago with his friends came to life. They would be fine.
𓇼
“Rick!” Michonne exclaimed, between fits of laughter. “You don’t have to do all the wedding nonsense!”
“Of course I do!” Rick snapped, closing the door behind him with his foot, Michonne firmly in his arms. He looked at her intently as he carried her to the bed, feeling his heart leap out of his chest just as it had throughout the wedding and reception.
Michonne let out a happy laugh as Rick laid her down on the bed, running her hand over his scalp and smiling sideways as she watched him sigh and shiver. They stared at each other with the intensity they’d been feeling all day, but now, they were finally alone to do something about it—Rick leaned in and kissed her, Michonne deepening the kiss, making them kiss until they were breathless. Even so, they pulled away, took a breath, and then resumed kissing. Rick could already feel his tailored pants tightening, and Michonne pressed her legs around his hips, moaning as he ran his tongue over the roof of her mouth, feeling herself getting wetter.
“Rick, baby,” she moaned as they separated for the second time. They both smiled at how they’d already managed to ruin each other with mere kisses.
“Yes, honey?” Rick asked, bringing his hand to her cheek and caressing it with his thumb.
“I don’t think I said enough today, but I really love you. Like, a lot,” Michonne said, a shy smile on her lips as if they had just met.
Rick supposed this was how the sun felt when no cloud was blocking him from illuminating the whole world. He placed a quick peck on her lips before saying, “I love you too, ‘Chonne. Probably more than the appropriate.”
Michonne laughed again and pulled Rick by the nape of his neck so they kissed again. And when they separated, she whispered, “Now come on, husband. Let’s start this honeymoon and the rest of your lives.”
Rick sighed and kissed her, feeling even more shivers run through his body.
The idea, and the consecration, of being Michonne’s husband was something that excited Rick even in simple situations. He loved it when Michonne was on the phone talking to some old high school friend who’d seen she’d gotten married and was pregnant, and she’d drop the word “husband” to talk about him. When her distant relatives called her with the baby news, those who hadn’t been able to travel to the wedding, she’d say, “Rick, my husband.” Each time, she’d get a big, stupid smile from Rick.
Michonne also began using it as a form of manipulation. When she asked Rick for something he didn’t want to do, she’d pout and say, in a sly voice, “but you’re my husband!” and all Rick’s resistance would vanish. Occasionally, he’d refuse something just so she’d say it, and Michonne knew that, but neither of them would say anything about it. And in other situations, Michonne would call him that in a truly gentle and delicate way: when Rick did something for her, no matter how simple, she’d kiss his cheek, cupping his other cheek, and say, “you’re too good a husband for me,” which Rick always shook his head to.
He loved her so, so, so, so, so much. And the routine they adopted during the pregnancy became Rick’s favorite; he longed for the moment when night would fall and he could lie next to Michonne and talk to his baby, while she, too, made comments here and there, causing silly giggles. Carl, Andre, and Judith would show up at their door when they heard the laughter, and the three of them would throw themselves on the bed, also talking to Michonne’s belly, even though Carl and Andre claimed it was kind of silly. Everyone was excited for the day the child would arrive, and they were already so loved that Rick saw no other destiny than they being blessed with a beautiful life.
“It’s been almost four months since we got married,” Michonne commented one night, sitting up in bed and running her hand over her growing belly. She turned to Rick, lying beside her with a crooked smile and those silly blue eyes that made her melt. “Do you still love the word husband?”
Rick, as usual, felt shivers run through his body, and Michonne laughed as she sensed the sensation. She loved that such a simple word could have such a wonderful effect on Rick. Seeing him so pleased to be called her husband was something that made her incredibly happy as well.
“I think I always will,” Rick confirmed, but still with that smirk, he continued, “But now there’s another word coming that will compete with that.”
Michonne’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and Rick propped himself up on one elbow, leaning closer to his wife’s lips. She waited for him to kiss her as he always did, but Rick kept the slightest distance between them. With a smirk on his face and the blue of his eyes fading to make way for the black of his dilated pupils, he whispered, “I’m officially your child’s father now.”
Rick sighed as Michonne cupped his neck and kissed him, laying him back on the bed and following his body. The smug smile on Rick’s face was enough to give Michonne even more strength to try to destroy him into oblivion.
“Just the reaction I wanted,” Rick grunted, as Michonne undid the buttons of his shirt with her teeth and pulled down his sweatpants with her fingers. He gripped her wide hips, running his fingers over her stomach, which he had already learned had become a sensitive spot enough to make even the smallest kisses elicit a soft cry from her.
“Yeah, I know,” Michonne replied, sadly abandoning her duty of removing Rick’s shirt, standing up to rip off her own, making him gasp, his eyes roaming her body. “But don’t think you’re winning this. Two can play this game, husband.”
Michonne smiled as Rick’s hips rose, and she leaned toward him again. As he felt his wife dive in for one of the countless kisses they would share that night, Rick couldn’t help but think how lucky he had been to have walked into that courtroom all those years ago.