#chaosandreorder

Rick was stretched out on their knew mattress he’d found, a smile on his lips, tears in his eyes from laughter. It was a source of humor for the both of them that he’d found a whole damn mattress….but no blankets or pillows.

“Hey...” he half-whispered, brandishing a wine bottle in one hand and two glasses in the other. “Look what I found.”

Rick wasn’t even sure how dancing had even been brought up, but now he was sure Michonne was determined to embarrass him. The look in her eye when he had insisted he could absolutely not dance had told him so.

Standing in front of her, she was quietly telling him where to put his hands. He gave an exasperated sigh, shaking his head. “I know where to put my damn hands. I went to my school dance. I was also married, remember?”Rick heard her give a chuckle at his fussing as he placed a hand on her hip, and took her hand in his other one. He thought waltzing around without music would be uncomfortable, but between Rick’s uncoordinated, graceless stumbling and Michonne’s efforts to keep him from falling on her they were soon laughing.

It was one of those runs where they were not going to get back to the Prison by nightfall. Michonne and Daryl were scavaging along with seeing if there was any trace of the Governor within a 100 mile radius of the Prison.  

It was a little cold that night and Daryl gave Michonne his poncho to keep warm in while he had on only a cut-upped t-shirt and his vest. Finding an abandoned warehouse they had checked out earlier in the day, they decided to hold up there for the night. It was no Holiday Inn, Michonne thought to herself, But they made due, ate some food they had found earlier and went to sleep laying next to each other for some extra heat.

Michonne went out quick but was awakened by what sounded like a dog having a dream. Suddenly Daryl kicked her still asleep. “Oh brother,” she said this time out loud but she wasn’t about to wake him. He was flinching and moving around, mumbling in his sleep.

She saw he was having it rough, perhaps dreaming of Merel’s death or some other horror Michonne knew nothing about. The little warrior decided to curl up next to him and pull the poncho over both of them hopefully to calm him down. She put her arms around him with no intention other than to soothe his fear in this dream.

Daryl’s priorities for the trip were scavenging but he knew Michonne was compelled to track the governor too. He didn’t blame her, not at all, so he helped. There weren’t any fresh tracks anywhere they explored though. Any tracks that were there could have just as easily been from a passerby days ago or maybe even a walker. No one had come through this area in at least a week.

 When they decided to settle in for the night, Daryl had shoved his poncho at Michonne. She might not have even noticed herself but she was shivering a bit. Daryl didn’t do it because she was a woman or he didn’t think she could hack it. It was because he could tolerate way colder situations, he had in the past, and he’d rather see someone else be comfortable as opposed to himself.

They’d been busy traveling all day so it didn’t take long to fall asleep, Daryl snoring softly as he always did when he was dead tired. Unfortunately, he wasn’t in for a good sleep. At some point he started dreaming, and not good dreams with shirtless models. By now everyone left alive probably had some form of PTSD and their own fair share of nightmares but Daryl’s predated the end of the world. He still had dreams of being alone as a kid, neglected and beaten by his old man. Tonight it was the old bastard chasing him with a belt, Daryl was his nine-year-old self and trying to hide under his bed before being dragged back out and violently lashed. In his sleep he fought off the attack, muttering and kicking, trying to escape it all these years later.

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“I know. I totally agree with you, but we need to stick to the plan. If Rick can get the heapsters to join us, they will see what is happening here. I know you want this to end. We all do. But I can’t help you with this.” Michonne got out of the cab of the truck, hoping Daryl would change his mind, but it didn’t look like that was going to be the case. All Michonne could do is stand there and watch it play out. Rick was going to be pissed and if this failed, the plan would fail along with it.

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Rick was half asleep where he lay next to her. He was face down in the pillows, comfortably drifting off. It felt nice to feel sleep coming to greet him for once, instead of having to chase it down.

Michonne had definitely taken to wearing him out for the night and now she was curled next to him, tracing her fingers delicately over his skin. If he opened his eyes now, he knows he would meet her watchful ones.

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Rick had every intention of kissing her when he stepped in and leaned down, knowing she would tip her chin up and they would easily meet in the middle. However, he found himself pausing a moment, looking down into her eyes with a playful look in his own.