Dead Man Walking | Rick Grimes

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"This is nice," I looked at Michonne and laid flat against the bench, my back screaming with relief against the wood. The endless chatter died down slightly as more people slowly drifted to sleep. My belly was full, and I felt drowsy, but I didn't want to fall asleep just yet. I reached out and started playing with the end of one of her dreads, smiling to myself for the hundredth time. I've been doing this a lot today; my cheeks feel sore.

"It is," I whispered, "I didn't think we'd ever feel this normal again," She hummed in response and leaned against the pew I was sprawled out on, her dreads landing on my legs as I continued playing with the one in my hand.

"So," I trailed, curiosity getting the best of me. Michonne turned towards me and cocked an eyebrow, "Jacob, huh?" Despite the lowly lit church, I could see a tint of red hit her cheeks as she furiously shook her head.

"Don't start, June," Michonne groaned, "We're friends, just like you and Daryl," I smirked, amused at how adamant she was on the whole subject.

"Last time I checked, Daryl never wanted to fuck me," I bit my lip, trying to repress a laugh as I teased the beautiful woman beside me.

"I'm going to get up and leave if you keep on," Michonne jokingly threatened, her hand hitting my thigh. I laughed and lightly smacked her shoulder, amused by the whole thing.

"Alright, alright, I'll stop," Michonne laughed again and rolled her eyes. Silence loomed between us as I continued to play with her hair, a slight hum vibrating in my throat.

"You know, this reminds me of the time when Mike and I were getting Andre baptized," Michonne laughed at her memory and looked at me, "It was a disaster. I got Andre ready that morning, and he looked so handsome in his little suit. I stupidly left Mike in charge of packing an extra outfit for Andre, diapers, and some of my bottled breast milk. I should've realized that that was already asking way too much of him, but I needed to finish getting ready. We get to the church, all our family is there, and we're having fun leading up to the service. But a few minutes before it all began, I smelled a poopy diaper," Michonne smiled, her eyes on me but her head a thousand miles away, "I go to change him, and I realize that it's just everywhere. His little suit was ruined and up his back—it was bad." I laugh, imagining the scene in my head, "I clean him up and realize that Mike never packed the spare suit I had set out. My poor baby was in diapers and had to be baptized like that cause Mike didn't pack the extra suit. I was so mad that I didn't talk to him for at least a week," Michonne laughed at her memory and looked at me, her eyes locking with mine, "What I would give to go back," I nodded at her, my hand reaching for hers.

"I know what you mean," I muttered, "I wish time could rewind, and we could go back to living how it was."

"But you would've never found Rick if that were the case," Michonne pointed out, earning a small, sad smile. That is true, but it's for the best. The world has never been forgiving, but now, it's a new breed of cruelty.

"I know," I admitted, "But life would be better. Carl would be a normal fourteen-year-old whose only worries would be girls and school. Selena would have her family. You would have your son and boyfriend back."

"And what about you?" Michonne questioned, her brown eyes never leaving my face, "What would you have back?" It broke my heart thinking about the world if things never ended—I would've never found Rick, Daryl, or Michonne. I wouldn't have three amazing children or this fantastic family I have now, but it would be for the best if the world never went to shit.

"I would have my museum and my family back," I said, thinking about the three people I miss with every fiber of my being, "I would have those fun weekends with my parents, and I would be partying with my little sister."