A/N: hi my lovelies, it's been too long!! I know I always say this but thank you all so much for the continued support this book has gotten, I love Rick and Cass with my whole heart and am SO grateful that I've had so many readers experience my silly little story. I'm not sure when / how this book got so popular, but please know how grateful I am that so many of you enjoy it <3 

So... as a (very belated I'm sorry) thank-you for hitting 500K on here, I've written two parts of the story I didn't include for pacing or timing reasons :)

First is the highly requested Rick's POV from the Hospital chapter back in season 5 ~8,000 words AND the unpublished (nsfw) Honeymoon from the epilogue ~10,000 words (I didn't include it because it felt like it was in poor taste considering what happens at the end of the chapter AND the epilogue was already way too long)

I hope you enjoy them my lovelies and thank you again <3

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Demoralized  (chapter 31)

- Rick's POV -

"And Gorman... he's a bit of a creep, but if you show him some respect, he should be fine," Noah says, the teenager's voice tinged with a tangible anxiousness. His fingers fidget as he rattles off descriptions of the officers, their quirks, their tempers—trying to arm me with all the insight he can. His anxiety is palpable, just being near the hospital again seems to unsettle him, but I stay focused, absorbing every word.

Still, my eyes keep drifting toward the grimy hotel window, its surface covered in a fine layer of dust. Through the smudged glass, I can just make out the hulking silhouette of the hospital across the street—its presence looming like a silent threat. A reminder of the danger Cass thinks she can waltz right into alone.

The thought of her, beautiful and maddeningly stubborn, marching headfirst into the lion's den twists something inside me. She's a selfless idiot, too blind to see when it's time to stop—especially when it's herself she's risking to save others.

"Hey, I'm going to see if there's another vending machine to raid," Cass mutters suddenly, breaking through my thoughts. Her unusually casual voice makes me freeze, my focus snapping to her by the door.

Standing with her hand on the hotel door handle, she blinks at me, those green eyes catching the dim light that reflects from the building across the street, her hair falling slightly in her face. For a moment, the sight is so beautiful, so achingly Cass, that it steals my breath.

"Alone?" I ask, my voice coming out rougher than I intended, my brows knit together tightly. I can't help the tightness that coils in my chest, squeezing at the thought of her going anywhere alone and getting hurt. 

Cass cracks a small, amused smile, the kind that usually sets me at ease. "Down the hall? Yes," she replies with light amusement, but I can't bring myself to mirror her smile, too on edge to pretend everything's fine.

As she turns to leave, I cross my arms and turn back to Noah, trying to refocus on his words and our task. But the ticking clock in my head, the one counting down every minute Cass is gone, drowns out his words.

When the count becomes too high, when that gnawing feeling in my gut turns to an undeniable certainty, I snap my gaze back to the hotel room door and a cold weight drops into my stomach.

Cass's rifle is gone.

She wouldn't take it just to raid a vending machine—not when she has her knife.

"Oh, for fucks sake," I curse under my breath, cutting off Noah as he mentions something about strawberries. "She went off on her own. I'm goin' after her," I growl, my voice rough with barely contained fury. My jaw tightens so painfully that it feels like it might snap, and I wrench the door open, storming out without a backward glance at the group. My sole focus is reaching Cass before anyone else does.

I tear down the stairwell, taking two steps at a time, my boots slamming against the metal with each frantic stride. My breath escapes in short, ragged bursts as I curse under my breath, every muscle in my body wound tight with urgency.

I nearly skid to a stop just outside the hospital when my eyes catch a glimmer of something dark and wet smeared along the concrete. A trail of fresh blood. Leading straight to the hospital.

Panic claws at my chest, squeezing until it's hard to breathe, but I force myself to push through it, tearing around the corner, following the trail of blood. My lungs burn with the effort, every gasp of air like fire in my throat, my boots slamming on the sidewalk but I can't stop. I need to get to Cass before she does something reckless, something that could get her killed.

As I reach the side entrance of the hospital, my ears catch the tail end of a conversation, Cass's voice—the sound I would be able to recognize even in death—echoing faintly from up ahead.

"...was just going to scavenge some of the storage rooms so I can stitch myself up. That's all. I don't want any trouble."

Her words send a jolt of fury and worry through me, the emotions tangling into a fierce knot in my gut. I'm too late. She's already been found.

Goddamnit, Cass.

I round the chainlink fence, slightly out of breath, my heart pounding in my ears as I spot her. Cass stands off to the side in the courtyard in front of the hospital, cradling her arm, blood seeping through her fingers. A bald officer stands opposite her, his expression wary, eyes narrowed as he takes her in. The way his gaze lingers on her makes my stomach turn, a sickening mix of dread and anger churning within me.

"You're alone?" the officer questions, his eyes dropping over Cass in a way that makes my blood boil, my protective instincts flaring. 

"No, she's with me," I pant before Cass can answer, my voice sharp as I push past the burning in my chest. Cass's head whips around, her eyes widening in shock as she spots me.

Ignoring the angry, questioning look she shoots my way, I fake a limp as I move to her side, contorting my face into a grimace of pain. If we're going to pull this off, I need to sell it.

"And you are?" the officer asks, his tone growing harsher as he realizes there are two of us now, his eyes narrowing.

"Her husband. Rick," I say breathlessly, the lie slipping out smoother than I'd expected. A strange mix of pride and protectiveness swells in my chest as I speak, the words feeling almost too real. My hand instinctively slides around Cass's waist, my fingers tightening possessively around her, the feral part of me reveling at the contact.

Cass shoots me a look from the corner of her eye, those brilliant green depths blazing with fury. I meet her gaze head-on, letting my anger show in my glare, irritated that she thought it was fine and dandy to run off and risk her life like that.

"Hey Dawn? I got two on the north entrance. The couple needs medical attention ASAP." The officer says into the walkie-talkie on his shoulder, a faint wave of relief washing over me knowing we're in. The adrenaline that's been pumping through my veins starts to ebb, replaced by a cold, simmering unease.

The officer, whose name I didn't bother catching, motions for us to follow him. He leads us inside, deeper into the run-down hospital that feels more like a ghost of its former self. As we move through the dimly lit corridors, I'm hit with a strange sense of déjà vu.

It's hard to think that this is where Cass used to work, where she spent countless hours while I was in my coma, before being transferred to the hospital in Kings County, completely oblivious to her existence. The woman I would soon fall hopelessly, desperately in love with was just a few floors away, and I didn't even know.

I steal a glance at Cass as we follow the officer up a flight of creaking metal stairs, the air heavy with the scent of antiseptic and decay. Her expression is tense, her jaw set in that stubborn way that makes my heart twist. 

She catches me looking and shoots me an unamused glare, one that I return without hesitation. I know she's pissed that I followed her, that I put myself at risk. But there's no way in hell I was going to let her sacrifice herself. Never. Not while I'm breathing.

Cass huffs, shaking her head as she turns her gaze forward again, and I have to fight back a smile.

God, she's beautiful when she's mad.

That fire in her eyes, the way her lips press into a thin line—it makes me want to kiss her until she forgets why she's angry in the first place.

Eventually, we're led up to the main floor and quickly ushered into a small, cramped room. The air feels colder here, sterile, as if trying to cleanse itself of the rot that's taken hold of the rest of the building.

Dawn, the woman in charge we've heard so much about, begins to interrogate me and Cass while Dr. Edwards stitches up Cass's arm.

"Rick's not in your file," Dawn says, her voice cool and expectant, those intense blue eyes scanning the manila folder in her hands. "You're listed as Dr. Adams, and all I see here is a... Phillip for your emergency contact." Her eyes shift from the file to Cass, who sits beside me on the narrow examination table, Dr. Edwards silently stitching up her arm.

At the mention of Phillip, I see Cass stiffen, the tension rippling through her like a shockwave. A brief flicker of rage courses through me, knowing how much that coward still affects her. But before I can react, Cass lets out a good-natured laugh, though it's too forced, too hollow. Her eyes don't crinkle at the corners the way they usually do when she's really laughing. 

"Oh, right, Rick wouldn't be in there," Cass says casually, glancing over at me. I watch her curiously, nearly jumping out of my skin as she abruptly grabs my hand in hers, facing Dawn again.

I swallow thickly, staring down at our intertwined hands, my heart pounding in my chest. Her hand is soft and just as cold as I expected, and I instinctively tighten my grip, hoping to warm her up. Something is comforting, something right about holding her hand like this. It's as if our hands were made to fit together. Like hers has been waiting for mine all this time.

Cass begins to tell a fake cover story, her voice steady and convincing, though I can barely focus on the words. All I can think about is how her hand feels in mine, how natural it seems. I give her hand a gentle squeeze, my thumb brushing over the smooth skin, savoring the contact.

God, her hand is so soft, so perfect. It's like I've been missing this piece of myself, and now that I have it, I never want to let go.

Cass looks over at me, her gaze softening as those stunning green irises lock onto mine. Her eyes search my face, and I blink back at her, trying to convey everything I can't say aloud.

I love you. I love you. I love you. I lo—

"I'm glad you found each other. You're lucky." Dawn informs us with a taught nod, snapping her file closed, the sound making Cass flinch slightly, looking away from me.

"I will, unfortunately, need to separate you two for now. Dr. Grimes, I'll need you to start seeing patients right away," Dawn tells Cass, making her nod with a small smile, meanwhile I'm not sure how I haven't passed out yet.

Dr. Grimes. The name echoes in my mind, a bittersweet ache settling in my chest. God, how I want that to be her name.

"And Deputy Grimes, we can try to find you an assignment within the hospital to begin." Dawn orders me, making me nod, my mind racing.

So she's going to separate us.

Brushing my thumb against Cass's palm gets Cass to look over at me, those beautiful green eyes meeting mine. "That's okay, right?" I question Cass softly, searching her gaze, wanting to make sure she feels okay with us separating.

"Yeah," Cass responds breathlessly with a nod, smiling slightly.

I inhale sharply, nodding in return, trying to steady myself.

"You two will share quarters during lights-out, so you will have time together then," Dawn adds flatly as if it's just another detail, but the impact of her words hits me like a freight train.

Cass turns to her, blinking in surprise, while I nearly choke on my tongue. The image of sharing a room with Cass instantly sends a jolt of panic—and something hotter and far more dangerous—through my system. I try my damn hardest to not show any visible sign that I'm internally losing my fucking mind, nodding as I get up, following Dawn as she tells us she's going to show us our room.

It doesn't matter, I tell myself. We're going to get Beth and Carol out before lights-out. Calm down.

Cass rises too, turning to Dr. Edwards as he finishes up her sutures. She offers him a warm smile, her voice as lovely as ever. "Nice to meet you, Dr. Edwards. I look forward to working together," she says, her tone polite and professional.

Dr. Edwards glances up, clearly a bit taken aback by Cass's friendly demeanor. He clears his throat, adjusting his squared glasses with a quick nod. "Yeah, you too, Dr. Grimes," he manages to say, though his eyes linger on her just a little too long for my liking. A flare of possessiveness surges through me, sharp and irrational, as I watch the way his gaze trails over her.

The protectiveness churns uneasily with jealousy, compounded by a slight insecurity fluttering through me—after all, they're both doctors, both on a level of intellect that I could never reach as a small-town sheriff's deputy.

Before I can stop myself, my hand finds its way to the small of Cass's back, guiding her out of the room as if it's the most natural thing in the world. It feels instinctive, like she's already mine as I guide her away, not even bothering to look in Edwards' direction.

Cass and I trail after Dawn, my hand still on her lower back, but I force myself to drop it after a few steps. It feels wrong to let go of her, like I'm going against every instinct I have. But the last thing I want is for Cass to feel uncomfortable, to feel pressured by our lie to deal with unwanted touch. I know she didn't want me coming with her in the first place, and part of me wonders if it's because she didn't want to be forced into this, into pretending we're something we're not—something I desperately wish we could be.

As usual, I ensure Cass stays planted firmly in my periphery as we walk through the pristine hallway of the floor of the hospital. I can't help but notice the tension in her shoulders, and the slight grimace on her expression. 

My brows knit together in concern, a worry that maybe I've overstepped, and made her uncomfortable with my touch. But then I catch that familiar look in her eyes—the one she gets when she's lost in thoughts of her past, when old wounds resurface, haunting her in ways I can only guess at.

I nudge her shoulder gently as we walk, a small gesture meant to either catch her attention or shake her out of whatever unpleasant memories she's lost in. Cass blinks, looking over at me with a forced smile, one that's meant to reassure me but only deepens my concern. Still, I notice the tension in her posture ease slightly as we follow Dawn to our assigned quarters.

Dawn opens the door, leading us into the small, dimly lit hospital room that will be ours for the night. As we step inside, I make a mental note of our location on the floor, mapping out the layout in my head, and identifying potential exits and entrances. Every detail could be important, and I can't afford to lose focus—not with Cass by my side, not with Carol and Beth's lives at stake. Yet, the thrill of pretending to be Cass's husband simmers beneath my skin, a low pulse of desire that I force myself to shove aside.

But then I see it.

A single bed.

A very small, very singular bed.

I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry. Panic collides with something darker, more dangerous, twisting low in my gut. My heart kicks up its pace, pounding hard against my ribs as I struggle to keep my expression neutral. I can feel my control slipping, the storm of emotions building, threatening to pull me under.

Cass and Dawn are talking, but their voices are muffled, distant, like I'm submerged underwater. All I can see is that bed, the way the sheets pull tight across the mattress, how close it would force us to be. And despite my best efforts, my mind starts creating scenarios, vivid and explicit. Cass's body tangled with mine, her skin warm against me, breaths heavy and shallow as we move together in the dark. The imagined heat of her mouth, the soft sounds escaping her lips—it all surges through me, setting fire to every nerve.

A fierce, burning ache coils in my stomach, bleeding into the pressure building in my chest, a deadly mix of longing and desire. My pulse thrums hotly, and I shift my stance, trying to discreetly adjust my growing reaction to my thought, biting back the frustration gnawing at me. I grit my teeth, commanding my body to calm down, to behave.

Dawn turns to me abruptly, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts with a start. I mentally slap myself back into reality and away from my fantasies as she speaks, turning to look her.

"Follow me to my office. We can find you a temporary uniform and discuss your role here," she says, her tone curt and efficient, clearly less enthusiastic about having another officer under her command. I nod quickly, clearing my throat and trying to shake off the lingering effects of my vivid imagination.

But even as I try to focus on the task at hand, my body is still thrumming with need, with want, with the overwhelming urge to close the distance between Cass and me. Before I can fully think it through, I find myself leaning in, ducking down to press a quick, almost impulsive kiss to Cass's cheek. My hand rests on her waist, a touch that feels too natural, too right, and it takes every ounce of self-control not to let it linger.

For a brief moment, I savor the warmth and curve of her waist beneath my fingers, the soft skin of her cheek under my lips sending my heart racing faster. My mind— unhelpfully—conjures thoughts of all the other soft places on her body that I'd love to press my lips to, and the sudden intensity of the desire forces me to pull away abruptly, fighting the heat rising in my face.

Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.

"Bye, honey. I'll meet up with you later," I murmur, the words foreign and heavy on my tongue, as if I'm trying to convince both of us that it's all just for the cover. Cass blinks, clearly taken off guard by the unexpected display of affection. We didn't exactly have time to discuss whether public displays like this were on the table, and now I'm worried I might've crossed a line or made her uncomfortable.

But before the thought can spiral further, Cass smiles wide, the kind of smile that lights up her entire face, reaching up to rub my back over my thin t-shirt. "Sure, honey," she responds smoothly, her voice rich and inviting, the sound of it sliding down my spine like a slow caress.

The warmth of her touch lingers, slithering through me with a strength that makes me physically restrain myself from shuddering. Panic and need wage war inside me as I struggle to maintain a calm exterior, desperate not to reveal the chaos roiling beneath the surface.

Cass drops her hand quickly, looking down as if the gesture was nothing out of the ordinary. Dawn, however, seems wholly unimpressed with our little act of affection, turning and walking away without a word, expecting me to follow.

Despite every atom in my body telling me to stay with Cass, to be in her presence, to make sure she's okay, I force myself out of the doorway. Turning to go with Dawn, I walk away, glancing over my shoulder, worry mingling with all the other ridiculous feelings going through my traitorous body. I desperately want to make sure Cass is okay with this, that she'll be alright.

I look back at Cass, nudging my nose with my finger, searching her gaze. One look and I'll start firing, taking out any goddamn city cop I have to, all for her. Anything for her.

Cass catches our signal, quickly mirroring it with a slight nod, her eyes reassuring me that she's okay. A suffocating wave of relief floods through me, and I nod back, letting out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. With one last, lingering look, I turn and follow Dawn down the hall, the thought of Cass's touch still burning on my skin.

The rest of the afternoon, I'm put in their city cop getup, the black uniform and police belt I haven't worn in years now. At least not a full industrial-grade one like this. I'm introduced to a handful of officers, their faces and names blurring together into a haze of insignificance. I know I won't bother remembering them, knowing I'll either never see them again or end up having to kill them.

The entire time, my ears strain for any sound that might lead me to Cass. I'm on edge, waiting to hear her name, "Dr. Grimes," or to catch the familiar cadence of her voice. I don't catch a glimpse of Carol or Beth either, causing a growing unease within me, wondering what could be happening. Despite the relatively small size of this floor, Cass and I don't cross paths again until lunchtime, and the wait gnaws at me like an itch I can't scratch.

I'm stuck in a pointless conversation with one of the officers, a man who drones on about his glory days as a cop before the world fell apart. I'm barely listening, my mind constantly drifting, until the cafeteria doors swing open and something in my gut tells me to look up.

And there she is— my Cass, standing in the doorway, her gaze locked onto mine. My heart stumbles over itself, momentarily forgetting its rhythm as I take her in, my mouth parting. She's in a white coat and mint scrubs, her hair brushed back from her face, the grime from our journey wiped clean from her face and hands.

God, she's so beautiful.

She looks like she's stepped out of a memory, back when the world was whole and she was a surgeon, tending to the sick, performing surgeries on children with those steady, capable hands.

"I need to go," I mutter to the officer beside me, cutting him off mid-sentence without a second thought. "That's my wife," I mutter, turning and walking towards her, the words rolling off my tongue with a mix of pride and possessiveness that I don't even try to suppress. I grin inwardly at how natural it feels to refer to Cass as my wife, even if it's all for show.

Pushing the thoughts of how beautiful she looks and how I suddenly have the urge to get horrifically sick just so she'll be my doctor, I search Cass's expression, reminding myself of why we're here.

"Hey. Everything okay?" I ask, my voice low, forcing myself to resist the overwhelming urge to reach out and wrap my arm around her waist again. My eyes search hers, those deep green eyes that have always been able to cut through me like a blade. I glance around us quickly, making sure no one is close enough to overhear our conversation about the mission.

"Yeah, we're good," Cass responds, her voice calm and steady, but I catch the underlying tension that she hides so well. "Beth's on board, and Carol seems ready too," she continues, keeping it brief and to the point. I nod, relief washing over me at her words. "But later. Beth says there's no way we can move during the day. We'll go after midnight," Cass whispers, her eyes flicking up to meet mine again, the urgency in her tone unmistakable.

Midnight. The thought settles heavily in my mind, knowing it means we'll be confined to that tiny room until then. I inhale slowly, trying to keep my thoughts focused on the mission and not on the proximity we'll be forced into later. Beth's right; she's been here long enough to know the patterns, and if Noah had his doubts too, I trust their judgment.

God, the thought of Beth and Noah—a pair of kids— having to endure this place alone, without support or protection, makes my chest tighten with fierce protectiveness. I silently swear on Hershel's memory that I'll get his little girl out of here safely. He'd do the same for Judith.

"Got it. We'll talk later?" I ask, my voice low as I reach out, my hand finding Cass's elbow. I need that connection, however brief, to ground myself, to remind her that I'm here, that we're in this together. Cass nods, a small smile playing on her lips, but it's enough to send my heart racing, the adrenaline from the plan and her presence surging through me.

"Grimes!" Dawn's voice calls out suddenly, cutting through our moment like a knife. My heart skips a beat, but it's Cass who turns her head first in response, and something inside me preens at that. It's a small, possessive satisfaction, a quiet thrill at hearing her respond to my name.

Cass Grimes.
Cass Grimes.
Cass Grimes.

The name echoes in my mind, a tantalizing fantasy that lingers just out of reach. But reality pulls me back as I turn to see Dawn looking at me expectantly, her expression all business. The realization sinks in that this brief moment with Cass is over, and a part of me deflates at the thought.

"Later," I murmur under my breath to Cass, offering her a small, reassuring smile before I force myself to turn away and face whatever Dawn has in store for me.

Hours later, I finally make my way back to our hospital room 1101, the irritation gnawing at me as the officer beside me continues his incessant chatter. I grit my teeth, nodding along absentmindedly, though all I want is to escape this bullshit—this ridiculous pretense of normalcy in a world that's anything but. Pretending they're still the same pretentious city cops, when really, they're just idiots clinging to the past, playing dress-up at the end of the world.

"This is me," I cut in sharply, forcing a tight-lipped smile as I reach for the door handle. The officer starts to respond, but I don't give him the chance. "See you tomorrow," I say briskly, ducking into the room and closing the door behind me, leaning my forehead against the cold, unforgiving surface with a heavy sigh.

Jesus Christ.

When I turn around, I spot Cass sitting on the windowsill, her white coat discarded, leaving her in just her mint scrubs. The sight of her pulls a smile from me before I can stop it, my heart skipping at how effortlessly beautiful she looks, even after the day we've had. The most gorgeous woman I've ever seen in my life.

"I think we did it," I whisper, my smile widening as I cross the hospital room over to her, sliding onto the windowsill beside her. The warmth of the plexiglass seeps into my back as I settle in next to her, the proximity both comforting and nerve-wracking. Being alone with Cass again, in a small room like this, hasn't happened since the prison. The memory stirs something deep inside me, a mix of relief and restless anticipation.

"I hope so," Cass replies, her voice tinged with the same unease that's been gnawing at me all day. She takes a deep breath as I sit down, and I wonder if her day was as tense as mine, if she's been just as on edge.

Wanting to lighten the mood, I lean in a little, my voice dropping into a teasing tone. "We were pretty convincing, Honey," I say, the endearment slipping out smoothly, a hint of desire lurking beneath the playful words. It's almost too easy, too natural, to say it—and the truth is I've dreamed of calling her a pet name, of claiming her as mine, even if only in this make-believe scenario.

Cass scoffs, pushing me away with a playful shove, a grin tugging at her lips despite the mock exasperation in her eyes. I swear I see a faint flush on her cheeks, though it could just be the lighting—or maybe it's my overactive imagination running wild again. I grin back, savoring the brief contact, the way her touch sends a small jolt through me, even when platonic.

"I hate pet names," she groans, her smile lingering despite the slight grimace that flickers across her expression.

My smile softens, understanding fluttering within me as I remember the way Phillip used to call her "Bunny," the way that name clung to her like a shadow. It's a part of her past, a past I wish I could erase for her.

"Yeah, I figured the whole 'Bunny' thing would make them less than desirable for you," I say gently, testing the waters, trying to gauge her reaction. A part of me wonders why she ever let Spencer call her "babe" if she hates pet names. Did she just tolerate it for his sake? Did she ever tell him how much she disliked it?

Cass turns to me, a flicker of surprise in her eyes as if she hadn't expected me to pick up on that. "Yeah," she breathes, her gaze searching mine, and I feel a pang in my chest, knowing that I've touched on something painful. I nod, my heart aching for her, hating the fact that she's been hurt by a coward who should have loved her better. Who should've realized how damn lucky he was to have her. There's a flicker of regret in me for bringing up pet names in the first place—especially since I was the one who called her "Honey" first.

Damn it.

Cass clears her throat, looking down as if to gather her thoughts. "I think it's good for our cover here, though," she says reassuringly, her voice softening as if she can read my mind, her hand coming to rest on top of mine once again.

My heart leaps at the contact, the warmth of her touch sending a shiver down my spine. I nod, forcing myself to remain calm, to not pull her into my arms and kiss her until she's breathless, to not tell her that I'll protect her with everything I have, that she's just after Carl and Judith on the list of those I will protect with my life first.

But I can't stop myself from looking into her eyes, those deep, emotional eyes that seem to hold a universe of unspoken words, wishing I had the goddamn balls to tell her how I feel.

It's ridiculous. I've taken down a goddamn cannibal factory and slaughtered what was left of them without a second thought. I've ripped out a man's throat with my bare teeth and killed his buddies when he threatened Carl and Michonne. I've survived in this merciless, unforgiving world for years, racking up a kill count I haven't bothered keeping track of anymore.

But the thought of telling Cass how much I love her—of risking our friendship—makes me feel physically nauseous. The mental image of Cass grimacing as I tell her before she awkwardly turns me down and then never looking at me the same way again stops me cold every time.

Cass shifts beside me, her hand slipping from mine as she scratches the back of her neck. "We should, uh—get some sleep. We need to wake up in a few hours," she mutters, her voice carrying a weariness that mirrors my own.

My heart clenches, but I nod, forcing the words out quietly, trying to mask the frustration simmering beneath my calm exterior. "Yeah, we should," I add, grasping for something to distract from the tension between us. "I managed to get the message across to the others earlier. They know we're leaving after midnight," I inform her, remembering how I used the flashlight on my belt to signal Daryl in Morse code, the brief flash of their response telling me he understood.

I rise from the window with a deep breath, glancing at the small, mattress of the hospital bed.

"You take the bed," we say in unison, and the synchronized offer makes us both pause, exchanging a look that earns a soft chuckle from Cass, a sound that makes my heart do a backflip.

I can't help but smile despite everything, nodding toward the bed. "Seriously, Cass, take it," I insist, my tone leaving no room for argument. She needs the rest more than I do. She spent the day tending to patients, doing the tough work, while I had to endure listening to officers ramble on about nothing. The least I can do is make sure she's comfortable.

But Cass, being Cass, crosses her arms and shakes her head, her stubbornness shining through as always. I internally sigh. 

How did I know?

"No, I'm smaller. I'm better on the floor," she argues, her reasoning so weak I can't help but raise an eyebrow, the skepticism clear on my face.

"You're the woman here, Cass. You get the bed, I get the floor. It's that simple." My voice is firm, leaving no room for debate. There's no way in hell I'm taking the bed and making her sleep on the floor. I was raised better than that, and I care too much about her comfort to let it happen.

I see Cass turning to make a makeshift bed on the floor with a huff. "You're older. We don't want to damage that b-back," Cass stutters through her shit-eating grin, glancing at me, a mischievous glint in her eyes that makes my stomach flip.

I fight back a scoff, raising my brows, my mouth parting.

She did not.

"You did not just say that," I deadpan, disbelief lacing my words as I stare her down. Her only response is a snort—an adorable, disarming sound that tightens something in my chest, that rush of adoration hitting me square in the gut. "I'm not that much older than you," I shoot back, my tone playful but with a hint of warning, making Cass's laughter die in her throat.

"Are you calling me old now?" Cass asks, her voice tinged with disbelief as she stares at me, wide-eyed. I can't help but grin, a sense of triumph bubbling up as I see the tables turn on her.

"I'll have you know I'm only... shit. I'm 30," Cass admits, her expression a mix of surprise and realization as she processes her age, the years slipping away in the way the world is now.

The fact that she thinks thirty is old nearly makes me laugh out loud. My heart does a weird flutter as the realization of our age gap actually hits.

"Oh, give me a break. Try 39," I counter dryly, ubbing a hand over the stubble on my jaw, feeling every year of it as I stand here, watching this infuriating, gorgeous woman a decade younger than me tease me.

Cass's grin returns, brighter than ever. "Oof, yeah. The old man definitely needs the bed," she says with a smirk, and my eyebrows shoot up in disbelief, cocking my head to the side. 

Old man?

The words spark something reckless in me—a sharp urge to prove just how wrong she is. The thought of bending her over that tiny bed and showing her exactly what this "old man" is capable of flickers through my mind, a dangerous temptation that I have to force back down. I look away, shaking my head, trying to keep my thoughts from spiraling out of control.

Get a grip, Rick.

"Just get on the damn bed, Cassandra," I say, my voice lower and more gravelly than I meant, laced with frustration at my ridiculous hormones and the aching need that surges every time I'm near her.

But Cass, ever stubborn, angles her head up defiantly, refusing to budge. "No. You know how stubborn I am. It's not happening," she declares, her tone resolute.

I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose, trying to rein in the growing exasperation.

Fuck my life. Why is she so damn stubborn?

"We need to sleep so we can get some rest before we break out of here. Is your stubbornness more important to you?" I ask, my patience wearing thin. The question makes Cass scoff, shaking her head as if to dismiss my aggravation.

"Obviously not. But you're being just as stubborn," Cass retorts, her voice carrying a childish defiance that only adds to my frustration. I sigh, nodding slightly in acknowledgment.

"Fine. We both get the bed then. Good?" I say, frustration lacing my words. I'm at my wits' end, exhausted from the day's events and just wanting to settle into some semblance of normalcy, even if it means sharing a bed with the woman I'm desperately in love with.

"O-okay," Cass surrenders quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. I nod with relief, turning toward the bed with a sense of grim determination.

Don't freak out, don't freak out, don't freak out.

I exhale slowly, reaching for the buckle of the police belt they'd given me, the metallic clink echoing louder than it should in the quiet room. The weight of the belt is nothing compared to the pounding of my heart, each thud a steady reminder of just how close I am to losing control. My fingers tremble as I tug the belt free, every motion deliberate as I try not to think about what's coming next.

Boots off, I glance over at Cass. She's facing away, pinching the bridge of her nose like she's trying to stave off a headache. For a second, I let myself look at her, really look at her, and my stomach tightens. She's beautiful in ways that hit me when I least expect it, and I'm a fool for letting it get this far.

Don't you dare get hard again, I silently curse at myself, feeling the heat creeping through me as I climb onto the bed. There's no way I can hide anything in a space this cramped. Cass doesn't deserve that—not after everything she's done for me, for my kids. She's always been there, the one person I can count on. The last thing she needs is for me to let my body betray the trust she's given me.

I glance at the small space left for her and frown. The bed is ridiculously tiny, barely enough for one person. My heart starts to thud harder as I realize how close we'll be, how every shift, every breath, will bring her closer. I try to ignore the surge of heat building in my chest as I hear her shoes hit the floor.

Cass climbs in slowly, almost reluctantly, the mattress dipping under her weight. My pulse spikes with every inch she closes between us. I feel her warmth before she even touches me, the tension in her posture so palpable it makes my throat tighten.

"Jesus, Cass, just lay down, it's fine," I murmur, my voice strained. I need her to relax, to stop making this harder than it already is. The more she fidgets, the more my body reacts, betraying every effort I'm making to keep it together.

With a soft, awkward cringe, she finally settles, lying down fully beside me. The bed is so small that there's no escaping it—we're pressed together from shoulder to hip, every inch of her touching me like it's the first time. I feel her breath hitch, and something sharp and electric zips through me, tightening my chest.

I turn my head, just slightly, tracing the curve of her profile in the dim light. Her lips, soft and full, seem impossibly close, her breath steadying in the quiet. My heart stutters in my chest. I've been near her before, but this—this is different. This is proximity that feels dangerous, taunting with the possibility of more.

And it's killing me.

"How should we—" Cass begins, turning her head slightly to look at me, her words dying on her lips as we come face to face. The surprise in her eyes mirrors my own, and for a long moment, neither of us moves, both caught in the sudden intensity of the moment.

The air between us crackles with tension, the kind that wraps itself around you and refuses to let go. I can feel her breath, warm and soft against my face, and all I can think about is how easily I could close the distance, how natural it would feel to press my lips against hers. To claim that mouth in mine, devour her lips. The pull is magnetic, almost overwhelming.

"It's a little snug," Cass squeaks, her voice weak, betraying the discomfort she's trying so hard to mask, making warm fondness grow in my chest. That tiny, vulnerable crack in her composure stirs something deep in my chest—fondness, warmth, the same deadly cocktail of emotions that's been burning me alive all night. God, she's beautiful. Sweet, strong, perfect, and out of reach. It's killing me to be this close, to want her this badly and know I can't touch her.

I duck my head, a quiet smile tugging at the corner of my mouth as I try to rein myself in. "Yeah," I murmur, the word heavy with everything I'm not saying. Everything I'm holding back. I'm fighting the primal need to pull her into me, to kiss her until we both forget where we are and what we're supposed to be doing. But I know better—I have to know better.

"Um—back to back?" Cass suggests, her voice soft, almost uncertain, her eyes searching mine for some kind of reassurance. Her vulnerability punches me in the gut, a mix of relief and disappointment hitting me all at once. Relief, because maybe some distance will save me. Disappointment, because even that little space feels like a knife twisting deeper into everything I'm trying to deny.

Cass moves first, awkwardly shifting into position, and I follow, turning until our backs are pressed together. The moment our bodies align, I feel a surge of both relief and frustration—relief at the physical distance, frustration because I can still feel her, still sense every inch of her next to me. The bed is too small for anything else. It's better than facing her, but just barely.

I close my eyes, biting down on the urge to shift again, adjusting my hips in the smallest, least noticeable way to relieve the pressure of my painfully hardening arousal. Just the closeness, just the scent of her hair lingering in the air, is enough to make my body betray me again.

Get a grip, you perverted asshole.

"Better?" I ask softly, the silence of the room amplifying the sound of my voice, making it seem louder than it is. My heart is still pounding, my body still aching for her, but I'm praying that she didn't notice—praying that she's as blissfully unaware as she seems.

"Y-Yeah," Cass whispers back and it takes everything in me not to turn around and look at her. There's an uncomfortable edge to her tone, and it sends a wave of anxiety rushing through me. Did she notice? Does she know?

"Goodnight Cass," I say quietly, hoping if I say that, my damn dick will realize it is time to sleep and not time to do what he actually wants to do.

"Goodnight, Rick," Cass breathes, her voice soft and laced with a warmth that sends a shiver down my spine. Her words are like a balm, soothing the raw nerves that have been frayed by everything that's happened tonight. But before I can fully appreciate the moment, Cass shifts on the bed, trying to get more comfortable, and her movement sends a jolt of heat straight to my core.

Her ass brushes against my back, and for a split second, all I can think about is what it would feel like if she were pressed against my crotch instead. The image is so vivid, so powerful, that I have to bite down on a groan, clenching my jaw so hard it aches.

Fuuuuuuck

"Shit—I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—" Cass apologizes quickly, her voice full of embarrassment as she immediately pulls away, trying to put some distance between us. I'm struggling to collect myself, to push down the wave of desire that threatens to drown me.

"Don't worry about it. See you in the morning," I somehow manage to say, forcing my voice to remain even and emotionless. It's a monumental effort to keep the suffocating arousal from seeping into my words.

"Right, yeah," Cass breathes, her voice small and uncertain as she goes still beside me. It takes a while, but eventually, her breathing evens out, a soft, rhythmic sound that tells me she's finally fallen asleep.

I stay awake for a long time, listening to the sound of her breathing, finding an odd sense of comfort in it. The warmth of her back against mine is both a blessing and a curse, a constant reminder of the closeness we share, and the impossible distance between us. Slowly, as the night wears on, my breathing steadies and I finally allow myself to drift off to sleep, lulled by the comforting rhythm of her presence beside me.

___

I round the corner into the kitchen, rubbing the remnants of sleep from my eyes, when I stop dead in my tracks. Cass is there, in the early morning light, moving gracefully around the kitchen. She's wearing one of my button-down shirts, the fabric hanging loosely on her frame, barely brushing the tops of her exposed thighs. Beneath it, I catch a glimpse of blue lacy panties hugging her curved hips and ass, teasingly visible as she sways to the soft music playing from the radio. My stomach tightens, and my throat goes dry as I take in the sight of her, my mind caught somewhere between confusion and arousal.

"Oh, s-sorry," I stutter, caught off guard by the scene in front of me, unsure if I'm intruding on something private, yet unable to tear my eyes away.

Cass turns to face me, her expression lighting up with a warm smile that makes my heart skip a beat. "Rick," she breathes, her voice laced with that easy, unguarded affection that makes my heart clench. She nudges her head toward the counter where she's making coffee, a playful glint in her eyes. "What are you apologizing for?" she asks with amusement, her tone so casual, so familiar, that I can't help but stare at her in disbelief.

"I-I just... you're uh... exposed," I manage to say, my voice thick with the effort of trying to keep my thoughts straight. My heart is pounding as I take a hesitant step forward as she just encouraged me to, my gaze flicking from her to the kitchen around us, trying to piece together how we ended up here—why she's so at ease, why she's wearing my shirt, why she doesn't seem to care that I'm standing here, seeing her.

Cass lets out a soft, melodic laugh, the sound wrapping around us, warming the space between us like a comforting embrace. Her hand reaches for my arm, and with a gentle yet insistent tug, she pulls me flush against her back. The scent of her—something sweet and familiar—fills my senses, making my head swim.

"I think I was a bit more exposed to you last night," she teases lowly, her voice light and playful as if drawing me closer is the most natural thing in the world. She leans back into me, her body fitting perfectly against mine, and for a moment, everything else fades away.

I blink, momentarily stunned, as I realize that I'm not wearing a shirt, just a pair of pajama pants. The realization sends a jolt of surprise through me, but before I can fully process it, a tentative smile tugs at my lips. Deciding I don't really care how I got here, I give in to the warmth of the moment, wrapping my arms around her waist, pulling her closer, and feeling her body mold perfectly against mine.

A flutter of happiness and disbelief bubbles up inside me, tingling in my chest and spreading through my veins. I bury my face in the crook of Cass's neck, inhaling deeply, the scent of her hair and the softness of her skin grounding me in this surreal moment. It's like everything I've ever wanted and feared all at once, and for the first time, I let myself revel in it, in the sheer, unfiltered joy of holding her close.

"You smell so good," I murmur, my voice low and filled with wonder, amazed that I can tell her this. A grin spreads across my face, the reality of holding the woman I've been hopelessly in love with finally settling in. It feels right—her warmth seeping into me, filling the empty spaces in my heart.

Cass chuckles softly, the sound like music. "I try," she replies, her voice laced with amusement as she leans her head back against me, fitting perfectly against my chest.

"I love you," I whisper into her hair, my lips brushing the soft skin of her neck. The words come out easily, naturally, as if I've always known them. I press a gentle kiss to her neck, and she responds with an adorably soft giggle that sends a thrill through me.

"Rick," she whispers, one of her hands sliding down to rest on my forearm, her touch light and reassuring. She pulls me closer, and I hum contentedly, tightening my hold on her as I lose myself in the sensation of her warmth, her presence.

"Rick!" Cass whispers again, this time louder, her voice tinged with urgency. I groan in slight frustration, not understanding why she's pulling me out of this perfect moment. I don't want to let go, don't want to lose this closeness, so I pull her back against me, feeling her body fully against mine, pleasure coursing through me.

But then, suddenly, she's ripped from me. The warmth, the softness—everything vanishes in an instant, and I'm jolted awake.

I blink rapidly, trying to adjust to the darkness of the hospital room, my mind struggling to make sense of the disorienting shift from the comforting glow of our kitchen to these cold, unfamiliar surroundings.

"Cass?" I grumble, my voice thick with sleep and confusion, my brain scrambled with confusion and the lingering sensation of embracing Cass lovingly.

Propping myself up on one elbow, I squint through the darkness, my brows furrowed as I see Cass standing by the bed, her chest heaving with quick, shallow breaths. Her urgency makes my stomach twist with confusion and worry, so in contrast to her happy comfortable smile.

"Rick, we need to go now," Cass hisses, her voice slicing through the silence of the room with a sharp edge of desperation.

"What are you talking—" I start to ask, but the words die on my lips as the reality of our situation slams into me like a freezing wave. The hospital. We're here to get Beth and Carol out. Not in some cozy kitchen, not in a world where Cass is mine, where love and warmth are within reach.

I sit up straight, the dream evaporating like mist in the harsh light of reality. My heart pounds in my chest, a mix of adrenaline and crushing disappointment coursing through me. I drag a hand down my face, the heaviness of the truth settling in with a thud that seems to echo in my bones. It wasn't real. None of it was real.

Goddamnit.

Daryl's flashlight sweeps through the window again, a cold, sobering reminder of where I am and what I can't have. Cass isn't mine. She never was, and she never will be. There's no kitchen waiting for us, no soft music playing in the background, no love that we can share. Only this—this dark room, this dangerous mission, this endless fight for survival.

"Shit. Okay, let's go," I mutter, pushing myself to my feet with a heavy sigh. The grief of what I'll never have sits like a stone in my chest, but I swallow it down, burying it deep where it can't interfere with what needs to be done. I reach for my belt and boots, the familiar weight of the gear grounding me in the here and now.

And just like everything else in my life, I push away my wants, my needs, and my desires, and I focus on the plan. On the mission. On the group. On what matters. Because that's all there is.

All there can be.

___

A/N: sorry to any of you who were convinced Rick was awake when he spooned Cass!! He was simply dreaming, as I always make him do hehe

___

Honeymoon - unpublished scene from the epilogue
( six months after Andy was born )

- Cass's POV -

"Where are you taking me?" I ask, grinning as I stumble slightly, Rick's calloused hand covering my eyes while he guides me through whatever building he's decided to surprise me in.

Rick's familiar, deep chuckle reverberates through his chest and into my back as he steers me forward, one hand shielding my vision, the other resting securely on my waist. His touch is firm, grounding, and despite my playful complaints, will always make me feel safe.

"I think you've forgotten the whole point of a surprise," Rick says dryly, his voice dripping with amusement. I can practically hear the smirk tugging at his lips and if my eyes weren't covered, I'd roll them.

I take another hesitant step forward, the floor beneath me unfamiliar, but then my foot catches on something—a crack, a piece of debris, I can't tell. My body jolts, and for a split second, I'm weightless, falling. A startled gasp escapes me, followed quickly by a curse, but before the panic has time to settle in, Rick's arm tightens around my middle, yanking me back into him. My back slams into his chest, his strength effortlessly keeping me upright.

"Jesus Christ, Rick," I pant, my breathless laugh tumbling out as I steady myself, heart racing from the near fall. "You do know who you married right? The clumsiest woman alive and you think this is a good idea?" I demand breathlessly, a grin of fond amusement tugging at my lips.

Rick's hold on me is unyielding, the warmth of his arms anchoring me just like they always have. It's a rhythm we've fallen into—a routine as natural as breathing. No matter how many times I trip, fumble, or lose my balance, he's always there to catch me, steady as ever.

"Stop being so dramatic," Rick chides warmly, though his voice is tinged with laughter. "We're almost there, I promise. And believe me, I know exactly who I married. I've been catching your clumsy ass for years."

I can't help the snort that escapes me, my grin widening despite myself. "Mhmm, and you love this ass, don't you?" I tease, nudging him with my hip, reveling in the familiar banter that's always come so easily between us.

Rick lets out an exaggerated sigh, but there's a playful edge to it. "Damn right I do," he growls softly, his voice taking on a husky, teasing tone. His hand, which had been resting comfortably on my waist, slides lower, his fingers brushing against my the waistband of my jeans before landing with a light, teasing smack on my ass.

I yelp in surprise, nearly tripping again, but his grip on me tightens instantly, pulling me close, his laughter rumbling against my back. My cheeks flush, heat rising as I bite my lip, trying to suppress the grin threatening to spread across my face.

After what feels like an eternity, Rick's pace slows, and I feel his warm breath on my ear. "Alright," he murmurs, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly whisper that sends shivers down my spine. "We're here."

I blink, my eyes adjusting to the sudden flood of light after the darkness as he drops his hand from my eyes. As my vision clears, the room around me comes into focus—and my breath catches in my throat. 

We're standing in the middle of an old research lab, the high tech type they only have in universities. Tall, dust-covered windows stretch up to the ceiling, casting pale beams of sunlight across rows of lab tables and equipment, long abandoned but still full of promise.

The air smells faintly of must and chemicals, and the tables are scattered haphazardly, covered in faded lab reports and crumpled data sheets. Beakers and test tubes sit untouched, remnants of a time when science and discovery still mattered—when the world hadn't yet fallen apart. The shelves lining the walls are stocked with instruments, some of them rare, some that I thought I'd never see again. In this forgotten space, there are the tools and materials that could make a real difference—medicine, treatments, everything we've been so desperately lacking.

My heart pounds in my chest as I turn to face Rick, finding him watching me with a rare look of vulnerability in his eyes. His normally steady gaze flits across my face, his lips curling into a tentative smile, one that doesn't quite reach his eyes. He's nervous. Rick, of all people, is nervous.

I'll never get used to being able to have that effect on him.

"I know it's not, you know, the typical wedding present," he begins, his voice carrying a slight edge of uncertainty that I've only heard a few times before as he shifts on his feet, his hand resting on his belt. "But when me, Nathan, and Morgan were out looking for you, we stumbled across this place. And I couldn't stop thinking about how much you could do with all of this. Or Eugene. But mostly you," he adds, his lips quirking into a lopsided grin. "Guess I'm a little biased. I just... thought you'd like it."

For a moment, I can't speak. My gaze darts back to the lab, taking it all in—the forgotten tools, the endless possibilities—and my mind races with everything this place could mean for us, for the people we've been trying to protect. The sheer potential overwhelms me.

"Rick..." I whisper, my voice catching in my throat, thick with emotion. I turn back to him, and the relief that washes over his face is palpable, easily reading my expression as always. 

His shoulders sag, the tension easing out of him as if he's been holding his breath this whole time. A slow smile stretches across my lips, and I step forward, throwing my arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight embrace. "You are the best husband ever," I murmur against his chest, feeling the warmth of his body seep into mine.

Rick exhales, his body relaxing fully as he wraps his arms around me, holding me close. The steady beat of his heart against my ear grounds me, calming the whirlwind of thoughts spinning in my head. "So," he asks softly, his breath tickling my ear as he buries his nose in my hair. "You like it?"

I pull back just enough to look into his eyes, my chest tight with the overwhelming surge of love I feel for him at this moment. My throat constricts with unshed tears, my voice trembling with sincerity as I whisper, "I love it." My gaze flickers between his eyes, trying to convey everything I feel—how much this means to me, how much he means to me. "You know me... God, you know me so well."

Rick's expression softens, his thumb gliding tenderly across my cheekbone as he cups my face, his touch grounding me. His eyes are filled with warmth and certainty, the same unwavering devotion I've seen countless times before. "Of course I do," he murmurs, his voice a gentle rumble, as solid and reassuring as the man himself. "You're... everything, Cass."

The sincerity in his words washes over me, wrapping around my heart like a balm. It's as though every syllable sinks deep into my chest, filling me with a warmth so fierce it makes my heart ache. My breath hitches, a soft whimper escaping before I can stop it. My fingers tighten in the fabric of his shirt, clutching it like a lifeline as if holding onto him is the only thing keeping me grounded in this moment. I press myself closer to him, inhaling his familiar scent—earthy, warm, and undeniably Rick.

"God, I love you so much," I whisper fiercely, my voice trembling with the weight of everything I feel. The words tumble out raw and jagged, like they can't possibly capture the depth of what's in my heart. "My gift sucks compared to this," I choke out, trying to laugh but barely managing.

Rick's low chuckle vibrates through his chest, the sound soothing the frayed edges of my emotions. "I don't need a damn gift, Cass," he murmurs, his voice deep and steady, wrapping around me like a protective shield. "Just you. I only ever need you." His hands drift lower, settling at my back, his touch warm and steady. He draws me in closer, his presence enveloping me like a safe harbor as if I'm the center of his world. I close my eyes, letting myself get lost in the comfort of his embrace, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath my cheek.

A grin tugs at the corners of my lips, mischief lighting my eyes even as I keep my face pressed against his chest. "Though I think you're gonna like my gift just a bit," I muse, teasingly drawing out the words, my grin widening as I think about it.

Rick raises an eyebrow, his voice dipping into playful curiosity as he pulls always slightly to look down at me. "Well now, the curiosity's killing me," he grins, amusement laced in his voice. His gaze sharpens with intrigue as I pull away from his embrace, my hands lingering on his chest, savoring the familiar feel of him beneath my fingers.

I bite my lip, my grin widening as I take a step back, a playful spark dancing in my eyes. "Patience, Mr. Grimes," I say, my voice smooth, taunting, as I turn on my heel and start strolling through the lab. My fingers skim over the cold surfaces of the lab equipment, the weight of the past and its promises settling around us. Each machine, each forgotten tool, hums with possibility—new ways to help our people, to heal those we've fought so hard to protect.

"Whatever you say, Dr. Grimes," Rick calls after me, his tone laced with affectionate teasing. I grin to myself, his familiar banter chasing away some of the unease that's been lurking at the edge of my excitement. This lab is a miracle, but even so, there's a part of me that feels the flutter of doubt creeping in.

Since Andy was born, our world has been a whirlwind. Sleepless nights, constant demands, and the relentless exhaustion of parenthood have consumed us. The rare moments we've had to ourselves are stolen, brief flashes where we're too tired to do more than collapse into bed. My dad has been a godsend, stepping in more times than I can count, but even with all his help, the weariness lingers, clinging to my bones. I feel it in every step, every glance in the mirror at a body that doesn't quite feel like mine anymore.

Maybe that's why Louise, Maggie, and Glenn all but shoved us out of Alexandria, insisting that we take this break—a chance to finally have the 'honeymoon' we never got. It's been almost a year since the wedding, and we're only just now getting the chance to reconnect, to remember what it feels like to be us again. Even though guilt tugs at the edges of my mind, nagging at me for leaving our children behind, I know they're alright. We need this. I need this.

I glance back at Rick, catching the eager curiosity in his eyes as he watches, and my heart swells with a wave of affection so strong it threatens to overwhelm me. Whatever doubts or insecurities I might have pale in comparison to the love that radiates from him. This man—who has stood beside me through every storm, seen me at my lowest, my darkest, and loved me still—there is nothing I could give him that would match what he's given me. But I'll spend the rest of my life trying.

"So," Rick's voice breaks through my thoughts, pulling me back to the present. He leans forward, elbows resting casually on a nearby cluttered table, the paper-strewn surface a sharp contrast to the smooth skin of his tanned arms leaning against it. His sleeves are rolled up, revealing his toned forearms, the muscles shifting beneath his skin as he moves. "You gonna save the world with this stuff?" he asks, nodding at the scattered lab equipment with a slight grin.

A soft smile tugs at my lips as I turn my attention to a dust-covered centrifuge, my fingers brushing lightly over the cool metal. The warmth in my chest spreads, steady and reassuring, even as I keep my voice light. "Oh, I think you're giving me too much credit," I reply, my grin widening. "I'm not Eugene."

"Thank God for that," Rick says, his voice dropping into that teasing, low rumble that always sends a flush of warmth through me. "Otherwise, this honeymoon would be a lot less enjoyable for me," he grunts, his grin twitching at the corner of his lips underneath his salt-and-pepper scruff.

I snort softly, the sound slipping out before I can stop it, and without breaking eye contact, I circle to the opposite side of the table. I mirror Rick's posture, leaning over the table on my elbows until our faces are just inches apart, my chin resting on my hands. Our noses nearly touch, and I can feel the warmth of his breath mingling with mine. My grin deepens as I lower my voice to a conspiratorial whisper, my brows raised. "But still... somewhat enjoyable?" I tease.

Rick blinks slowly, his smile deepening, his eyes crinkling at the corners—the way they always do when he's genuinely amused, when he's at ease, and it makes my heart flutter like it always has.

"Hey-" he says, adopting a mock-serious tone, "he's got one hell of a mullet. I can only resist so much," Rick grins teasingly, his grin broadening into a full, boyish smile, the kind that softens the hard edges life has etched into his features and makes him look, for just a moment, like the man I first fell in love with. All those years ago, in that hospital room.

A laugh bubbles up from somewhere deep within me as I look into his eyes—those blue eyes full of that same spark of playfulness I've adored for years—and I feel it. That unshakable, undeniable connection, the kind that no amount of exhaustion, sleepless nights, or insecurities could ever take away.

"Should I be concerned about the fidelity of my husband around a certain mullet-haired scientist?"I tease, my grin wide and teasing, though beneath the lightheartedness, there's a quiet relief. We're still us.

Rick chuckles, shaking his head, and his hand comes up to brush a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "Never," he murmurs, his voice low and rumbling, a promise wrapped in that single word. His eyes darken slightly as his thumb traces the curve of my cheek, and before I can say another word, he leans in, capturing my lips in a kiss.

It's not hurried or desperate—it's slow, tender, and full of unspoken understanding. His lips move against mine with that familiar, steady pressure that always feels like home. I sigh into the kiss, letting go of the lingering worries and the insecurities that have shadowed us for months. In this moment, there's no need to be anything but present, wrapped in the warmth of his embrace, feeling the world slip away.

When he pulls back, just an inch, his forehead rests against mine. I can feel his breath, warm and steady, mingling with mine. "I've missed this," he whispers, his voice so quiet it's almost swallowed by the room, but I hear it. I hear the weight of those words, the honesty in them.

I nod, my throat tightening as I press my lips together, trying to keep the emotions in check. "Me too," I whisper back, my voice barely more than a breath. The words are simple, but they carry the weight of everything we've been missing, the deep ache of our separation despite being physically together.

For a moment, we remain there, our foreheads touching, our breaths synchronized. It feels as if the rest of the world has faded away, leaving just the two of us in this dusty, forgotten lab, reconnecting in the way that only we can.

Rick breaks the silence with a soft, "I have another surprise for you." His voice is playful, but there's an edge of nervous excitement to it. I pull back slightly, narrowing my eyes at him, curiosity piqued.

"I swear to god, if it's another romantic gesture that makes my gift look even worse, I'll divorce you," I say with a mock-serious expression, my eyes widening for effect. Rick chuckles, his laughter rich and warm as he pushes off the desk, a playful glint in his eyes.

He steps around the table, his hand finding its way to my waist in a smooth, practiced motion, pulling me towards him. "Well, I don't think it's that romantic that you need to divorce me," he replies, his tone warm and teasing, the corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement. "Come on, I'll let you walk without covering your eyes this time because I'm just the best husband ever," he smiles, holding his hand toward me with a grin.

Fighting back a smile, I take his hand, feeling the reassuring solidity of his touch. We make our way across the abandoned college campus, the silence around us punctuated only by our footsteps. Rick leads me through the crumbling corridors, the echo of our movement mingling with the distant creaks of the old building.

When we finally arrive at the next location, I find myself standing in the doorway of the former dean's office. It's a large old-fashioned room, its wooden-framed windows towering high, letting in beams of muted sunlight from the setting sun that play over the dust in the air. The scent of aged books fills my nose as my jaw drops at the sight of the room.

Turning to Rick, I see him watching me with that same warm, eager smile, his eyes crinkled with anticipation.

"That's it, I'm divorcing you," I breathe, my heart aching as I turn back to the office in disbelief, only making Rick chuckle warmly.

In front of the imposing wooden desk sits a neatly made mattress, covered in plush white pillows and a thick comforter that looks like it's been brought straight from Alexandria. Candles are scattered across the room—some burned down to almost nothing, others still flickering—casting a soft, golden glow over the space. The atmosphere is intimate, romantic, and far too thoughtful for what I expected in this run-down, forgotten office.

Rick's dry laugh cuts through the awe in my chest. "Yeah, yeah, I'll have Michonne draft the divorce papers," he quips as he steps inside, dropping our backpack to the floor with a soft thud. His tone is light, but there's a deeper warmth in his eyes as he watches me, clearly enjoying the effect this place is having on me.

Shutting the door behind us, I follow him in, my gaze drifting around the room with amazement. My heart tightens with emotion, and I bite my lip, trying to keep it together. I don't deserve this man.

I'm lost in the thought when I feel Rick's hands slide around my waist, pulling me gently back against his chest. I inhale sharply, closing my eyes as the comforting warmth of his body envelops mine. My hand instinctively reaches up behind me to tangle softly in his hair, the feel of his breath on my neck sending a shiver down my spine. "You're too good for me, Rick," I murmur, my voice quiet but laden with emotion as I stare at the candlelit set-up in front of us. "This is... too much."

Rick chuckles, the sound low and rich, as if the very idea of him being too good for me is absurd. "It's just a bed, Cass," he says, his voice tinged with that familiar huskiness that always sends heat pooling through me. "Didn't feel like sleeping in a damn dorm room or the floor for our honeymoon." Rick mumbles, his voice laced with a familiar huskiness that has me biting my lip.

I laugh softly, my eyes half-closed, savoring the feel of him against me. "You lit candles," I whisper, my words filled with the soft hum of pleasure and amusement. I arch my body back into his, melting into him, savoring the privacy we finally have.  

The door to the office is closed and locked, and we're miles away from our family. No kids needing us, no need to stay quiet when we finally get our hands on one another and end up having to rush it anyway or stop because Andy is crying again, no hurried moments stolen between distractions. Just us.

Rick groans quietly, the sound vibrating through his chest and into my back as his body reacts to mine. The press of his growing arousal against my ass is unmistakable, and a slow smile spreads across my lips. "Mmm, maybe I did," he murmurs into my neck, his voice a gravelly rumble that sends another wave of heat surging through me. His hands, once gentle, become more urgent, one sliding up to cup my breast through my t-shirt, the other gripping my thigh possessively.

A quiet, breathless laugh escapes me as I bite my lip, barely holding back a moan as his fingers massage my breast, his touch sending sparks of pleasure shooting through me. "You're a romantic, Rick Grimes," I tease, my voice thick with desire as I grind back against him, feeling his reaction to me growing harder. "And I stand no chance against you."

Rick lets out a deep, rumbling groan, his lips finding that sweet spot where my neck meets my shoulder. He nips at my skin, his teeth grazing me in just the way he knows drives me wild, and I can't hold back the moan this time. The sound spills from my lips as I lose myself in the moment, in him.

"But it's my turn now," I say suddenly, making Rick freeze in place.

"What?" he rumbles in confusion, his hand slipping from my breast to my waist as if reluctant to let me go, his breath hitching.

Untangling myself from his arms, I hear him groan in protest, his grip loosening reluctantly. "My turn to give you something," I grin, bending over to grab the backpack with exaggerated slowness, earning a sharp exhale from Rick.

"You're making this a lot harder than it needs to be, Cass," Rick mutters, his jaw tight, eyes dark with desire as they follow my every move.

I straighten up, casting him a playful wink as I make my way toward the small attached bathroom. "Patience, Sheriff," I tease before disappearing behind the door.

___

Glancing at myself in the mirror, I wince slightly, tilting my head as I adjust the costume, feeling a bit ridiculous. Louise found it on one of her runs with Glenn and was laughing so hard as she gave it back to me, insisting I surprise Rick with it.

I shift awkwardly, my fingers brushing over the skimpy fabric. I'm no Carrie Fisher—that much is for sure. And after Andy, I'm still not quite where I want to be with my body, though my boobs are bigger, which is a plus.

I let out a shaky breath, steeling myself. This is Rick—he's seen me in every state possible, and he's always made me feel beautiful, no matter what. I brush my hair over my shoulder, deciding to forgo the ridiculous space buns, and with a final glance in the mirror, I open the door.

Stepping out into the office, I see Rick at the desk, frowning slightly as he fumbles with some food containers, trying to set them up, probably to distract himself. Goosebumps prickle across my skin as the cool air hits my exposed body, but I push through the nerves, stepping forward with a playful grin.

"Setting up dinner?" I ask innocently, biting my lip, my voice lilting with false casualness.

"Mmm? Yeah," Rick mumbles distractedly, still focused on the containers. "Just trying to—" His voice cuts off abruptly as he turns and finally sees me.

He freezes, his entire body going still, eyes widening in a way that sends a rush of heat through me. My stomach twists with a mixture of nerves and excitement as I stand there, feeling exposed and vulnerable in the costume despite knowing this man, my husband, has never made me feel anything less than adored.

Rick stares, his gaze slowly trailing up and down my body, his breath catching in his throat. He swallows thickly, blinking as if to confirm what he's seeing. His mouth falls open slightly, and for a moment, he's completely speechless, the intensity in his eyes growing with every second.

The silence stretches, and my nervous smile falters slightly. "Well?" I ask, my voice shaky, unsure if I should laugh or hide behind the nearest piece of furniture.

Rick coughs, finally shaking his head, exhaling slowly as he grips the edge of the desk like it's the only thing keeping him upright. "Sorry, just—" He breathes heavily, his voice thick with disbelief. "I think all the blood just left my brain, I can't—" He fumbles over his words, leaving me fighting back a fond, relieved smile as warmth blooms in my chest.

"Where did you... h-how did you—?" Rick stammers, his eyes raking over me again, jaw clenching, his head tilting as though he's trying to process the sight of me in this.

"It doesn't matter," I breathe, shaking my head, definitely not wanting to tell him this was Louise's idea. Under the weight of his gaze, I fight the urge to cross my arms over my exposed body, resisting the insecurity bubbling just below the surface.

Rick mutters something under his breath, his voice low and full of raw need. Then he pushes off the desk, closing the distance between us with a few quick strides. My eyes widen slightly at his sudden intensity. 

"Rick—mmph!" I begin, but my words are swallowed as he slams me back against the bookshelf, his lips crashing into mine with a hunger that takes my breath away.

His hands are immediately on me, sliding over the bare skin left exposed by the skimpy bikini, gripping and caressing me like he hasn't in far too long. The heat of his touch sends shivers down my spine, and I find myself moaning softly into the kiss, my body arching toward him in response. His urgency, the sheer need in the way he kisses me, makes my heart race, my pulse thundering in my ears.

Rick's hands move to my thigh, gripping it roughly and pulling it around his waist. He grinds against me, his hard, jean-covered length pressing into the thin material of the bikini, eliciting a gasp from me as pleasure spikes through my body.

It's been a long time since he's been this eager, this desperate, and despite the rising heat between us, a small voice in the back of my mind whispers that maybe it's because I'm dressed as Princess Leia. I shove the thought down, clenching my eyes shut, determined to enjoy the moment, to lose myself in him.

"You're perfect," Rick growls, pulling away from my lips to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down my neck. His breath is ragged, and the scratch of his beard against my skin sends a delicious shiver down my spine. My head falls back against the shelves, eyes squeezed shut, the overwhelming sensation of his mouth and hands clouding my thoughts

But the doubt creeps in again, and I curse under my breath as he grinds harder against me. Am I ruining this moment by thinking too much? Did I really pick a gift that's making him think of another woman, a fantasy from his childhood? How stupid am I?

Rick suddenly pauses, sensing my shift. "What's wrong? Am I being too rough?" His voice is husky and breathless, but his hands immediately soften, caressing instead of gripping, as if he can read me without needing the words. I curse inwardly, hating how he can always tell when something's off.

"No," I whisper, shaking my head, my eyes still closed as I battle with myself. Stop it, Cass. Just enjoy this.

But Rick pulls back slightly, his breath coming hard and fast. His hands move from my hips to my face, cupping it gently as he searches my expression, his brow furrowed with concern. "Hey," he breathes, his voice softer now. "I'm sorry. I just—attacked you," he adds with a sheepish grin, his cheeks flushed, eyes dilated with lust but tempered by tenderness. "I just... fuck Cass, seeing you in that damn bikini is driving me insane." His chest heaves as he speaks, and I can't help but smile at his honesty, even as I struggle to push through my own insecurities.

"It's like all my goddamn fantasies from puberty coming to life, and I don't know how to handle it," he chuckles, his thumbs brushing lightly over my cheeks. His gaze holds mine, warm and sincere.

I smile back at him, leaning into his touch, but I can't shake the vulnerability that's been gnawing at me. "No, I'm not upset," I say quickly, my voice a little shaky. "It's just..." I hesitate, swallowing hard before continuing. "I've been so insecure after having Andy. And—I know it's my own fault for dressing up like this, but I can't help but think that maybe you're imagining... the real Leia. And I don't blame you! I get it, really."

Rick's brows draw together as he blinks at me, clearly taken aback. "You think I'm picturing... Carrie Fisher right now?" he asks, his tone dry, almost incredulous. I nod, biting my lip, feeling stupid for even bringing it up. But instead of awkwardly trying to deny it, Rick smiles, shaking his head as a low chuckle escapes him.

"Cass," he begins, his voice soft but filled with conviction, "you're the woman of my dreams. If teenage me saw you right now, I think he'd have a heart attack." His eyes crinkle at the corners as he grins at me, his gaze full of affection. "Hell, I'm on the verge of it myself," he adds, making it nearly impossible for me not to grin back, my heart fluttering at his words.

Rick's words wash over me, filling me with warmth and dissolving any lingering insecurities. His roughened, steady hands move gently as he adjusts a strand of hair from my face, his touch both calming and electrifying. 

"All I'm thinking about right now," he continues, his voice husky and thick with want, "is how lucky I am to have an incredibly gorgeous wife who would dress up like this for me. And how desperate I am to rip this damn costume off of her and bury myself inside her." His words are a deep rumble, reverberating through me, sending chills up my arms. "Baby or no baby, Cass, your body is perfect because it's yours, and it's the only one I've wanted. Since you kissed me on the cheek back at the prison, it's been the only body I've pictured, dreamed about, and drooled over."

His sincerity is too much, my heart swelling to the point it feels like it might burst. Tears sting my eyes, not out of sadness but sheer overwhelming emotion. "God," I whimper, pulling him in for a desperate kiss, my hands gripping the back of his neck as I yank him closer. "I love you so goddamn much," I mumble against his mouth, the words pouring out between kisses, my body arching into him as my hands clutch at his back, his shoulders, anything to get him closer.

Rick groans in response, his breath hot and ragged. "I—" he kisses me, his lips claiming mine with hunger. "Love—" another kiss, deeper and more urgent. "You—" kiss, "More—" he gasps between kisses, his hands now roaming, no longer holding back. His touch is rougher, more insistent as his fingers slide down my stomach, his palm flat and hot against my skin, his fingers tracing the edge of the bikini. My body responds instinctively, arching into his touch, my heart racing.

"Are we doing this?" he mumbles, his voice suddenly softer as he pauses, pulling back to look me in the eyes, searching for my answer. His gaze is intense, but full of care, and I can see the restraint he's holding onto, the way he's waiting for me.

Instead of answering with words, I grab the back of his head and pull him into another devouring kiss, giving him all the consent he needs. In an instant, the hesitation vanishes, and Rick's hands are back on me, urgent and determined.

With one swift motion, he pulls at the bottoms of the bikini, lifting my leg and sliding them down before tossing the fabric aside. The cool air hits my skin briefly before his hands are back, gripping my thighs as he lifts me against him, pressing me against the bookshelf again, his body hard and warm as he grinds against me again. My breath hitches as I feel the intensity of his desire, and I lose myself in him, in the heat of the moment, in the way his lips trail down my neck, in the feeling of his hands everywhere at once.

Rick's warm hand slides between my legs, his fingers teasing my folds, collecting the wetness there as he moves in a way that makes me see stars, knowing just how to touch me. My hips instinctively grind into his hand, and I throw my head back, the hard edge of the bookshelf digging into my scalp as I moan loudly, clinging to his arms as though they're the only thing keeping me grounded.

"Oh god," I whisper, my breath coming in ragged gasps as the pleasure builds, eyes clenched shut as I bite down on my lip to stop the scream threatening to tear from my throat.

But Rick isn't having it. His growl is low, filled with a kind of primal frustration, and suddenly his touch is gone. I blink, barely registering what's happening before he yanks me off the bookshelf, his hands firm on my hips. I inhale sharply, eyes flying open as the sudden change leaves me breathless.

"What are you—" I manage to start before Rick cuts me off with swift, decisive movement. He turns and tosses me onto the mattress, and I bounce once, landing in a tangle of pillows, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I stare up at him in shock. My mouth parts, a gasp slipping out as I watch him, the raw heat in his eyes making my pulse quicken.

Rick unbuttons his shirt in a frenzy, yanking it off his shoulders and tossing it aside, leaving him in his jeans. He's breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling as he steps toward the bed, his gaze locked on me. The muscles in his arms flex as he reaches for me, climbing onto the bed, every movement deliberate, hungry.

"You're whispering and moaning," he growls, his voice thick and low, sending a shiver down my spine as he leans closer. "I want you screaming."

The words hit me like a jolt of electricity, my stomach flipping in response, the heat between my legs growing unbearable. My heart hammers in my chest as Rick grabs my hips with a force that sends waves of anticipation flooding through me. He pulls me roughly toward him, and the friction makes me gasp, my body instinctively arching toward his.

Before I can catch my breath, his lips are on mine again, possessive and demanding, his hands roaming my body with a kind of urgency that sets my nerves on fire. The mattress dips beneath us, and the flickering candlelight casts shadows that dance across his face, highlighting the raw desire burning in his eyes.

"Rick..." I gasp between kisses, my voice barely a whisper, my hands sliding down his bare chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath my fingertips. But his growl cuts me off as he nips at my lower lip, tugging it gently before his mouth moves down to my neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin there, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

The sensation is consuming, the heat of his body against mine, the urgency in his touch as if he's been starving for this. His hands grip my thighs firmly, spreading them apart with a possessive intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. I can feel his breath on my skin, the roughness of his beard brushing against my neck as his mouth moves lower, leaving a trail of wet kisses that make my pulse race.

Without warning, his fingers fumble with the thin straps of the bikini top of the costume, and with a sharp growl of frustration, he rips the cheap fabric in two, discarding it with the same careless hunger. The cool air hits my bare skin for a moment before his mouth is on me—hot, wet, and desperate—his lips closing around my breast.

I whimper at the sensation, my back arching into him instinctively, offering more. My eyes flutter shut as waves of pleasure course through me, each kiss, each flick of his tongue sending a shock of electricity straight to my core. His hand grips my waist, anchoring me as his mouth worships me, alternating between licking and sucking, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just enough to make me gasp.

"Rick," I moan lowly, pleasure dripping from my words, barely recognizing the sound of my voice, tangling my fingers in his curls desperately. I need him closer.

Rick's hand moves with a knowing precision, his fingers teasing my folds before delving deeper, pushing me to the edge with every stroke as his fingers slide inside me. I inhale sharply, my body responding instinctively, hips shifting needily as he brushes against me, his touch both a tease and a promise. A low growl escapes him, vibrating against my breast as his mouth releases me with a final bite, the sensation making my entire body jolt beneath him.

His gaze is dark and intense, his pupils blown wide with desire as he watches me, drinking in every reaction, every sound. His fingers start to move faster, deeper, the pleasure building rapidly, coiling tight in my belly, making my breath hitch. My back arches off the mattress, my chest heaving as I cling to the sheets, every inch of my body responding to the way he knows exactly how to unravel me.

"You're so fucking perfect," he murmurs again, his voice rough with need as his fingers curl inside me, hitting the spot that makes me cry out, my hand flying to his shoulders, clutching him desperately. He watches me with a predatory hunger, his lips pulling into a grin as he thrusts his fingers deeper, the pad of his thumb circling my clit in perfect rhythm.

The pleasure is overwhelming, a tidal wave threatening to consume me, and I can't hold back the whimper of need that escapes my lips. "Please, Rick," I beg, my voice trembling, my nails digging into the flesh his shoulders, holding on for dear life as my body responds to him.

His breath is ragged as he leans down, groaning softly when he feels me clench around his fingers. His mouth hovers near my ear, his voice low and commanding, sending shivers down my spine. "I said I want you screaming," he murmurs, his tone both possessive and tender, igniting something primal inside me. I want to surrender to him completely, to let him take me apart because I know he's the only one who can put me back together.

"I need you," I choke out, my body trembling, teetering on the brink, my mind spinning as his fingers drive me closer to the point of no return. I'm so close, the tension building to a breaking point, my breath coming in short, desperate gasps.

Rick leans in closer, his nose nuzzling against my cheek, a rough groan rumbling from deep in his chest. "Come on Cass, be a good girl and come for me," he whispers hoarselt, his voice laced with both tenderness and dominance, feeling my body tense.

That's all it takes—his words, the way his fingers curl just right against my g-spot—and I come. My vision goes white, a broken moan tearing from my throat as my body convulses, the pleasure exploding through me in waves. I arch off the bed, my head pressing into the pillow, my entire body trembling as I lose myself completely in the sensation, in him.

Rick doesn't stop, his fingers slowing to a gentle rhythm as he coaxes me through the intensity of my orgasm, his lips brushing against my neck in soft, grounding kisses. Each kiss is a reminder of where I am, who I'm with, and the love that holds me steady, even as my body shudders from the intensity of the pleasure.

"That's it, you're so good, Cass, so beautiful," Rick murmurs against my skin. I'm panting as I come back to earth, my heart slamming against my ribcage.

"God, Rick," I pant, my throat hoarse from the sounds that Rick had coaxed from me, my near death-grips on his shoulders easing slightly, my fingers trailing down his arms in soft, appreciative caresses. Rick smiles against my neck, gently removing his hand from me, and gazing at my face.

A teasing grin spreads across his face as he licks his fingers clean, the sight making my stomach flutter, heat already rekindling inside me. "I missed this," Rick says quietly, his voice filled with warmth. "Taking my time with you." He licks his lips, his expression softening. "I love Andy with my whole heart, but that kid is one hell of a cockblock," he jokes, his tone light, and I can't help but huff out a genuine laugh, my head falling back against the pillows.

"He really is," I chuckle, shaking my head. Then, with a soft sigh, I add, "But I miss him." My voice drops into a gentle pout, my heart aching for our sweet baby boy. Rick snorts softly, his thumb tracing lazy circles on my thigh as he smiles lovingly down at us, thinking about our baby.

"I miss him too," Rick smiles warmly, his blue irises full to the brim with love as he looks down at me. 

"You know..." I start, swallowing as I gather my thoughts. "You said when you found out, that no matter what, Andy is our son. Just like Judith is our daughter." I continue, searching Rick's face, the words coming out in a breathless rush, my heart thudding for a different reason now.

Rick's playful expression fades, his brow furrowing as he adjusts on the bed, giving me his full attention. "Of course," he says softly, his voice calm but concerned like he's trying to understand what's on my mind.

I smile slightly, reaching up to cup his cheek, my thumb brushing along his cheekbone, my heart aching with love. Rick leans into my touch, almost unconsciously, the tender gesture making my chest tighten with emotion and my smile widen.

"He has your eyes," I whisper, my voice trembling. Tears sting the corners of my eyes as I press on, my throat tightening around the words with the emotion welling up inside me. "A lot of babies are born with blue eyes, and they change later. But Andy's... they've stayed the same. And they're not just blue, they're your eyes, Rick." I pause, blinking quickly to keep the tears at bay. I had hoped this for so long but had refrained from saying anything. "I can only give him green. Negan had hazel. The odds of him having blue eyes..." My breath hitches. "It's slim. So if they're from you..."

[ A/N: I know the actual genetics on this are complicated but just bear with me okay?? We all know she's right anyway ]

My voice falters, and I can feel my heart beating wildly in my chest as I look into Rick's eyes, hoping he understands the weight of what I'm saying. "If Andy is really yours... it means I had a piece of you with me, the whole time I was at the Sanctuary," I say, the emotion rising in my chest, threatening to spill over.

Rick exhales slowly, his brow knitting as his gaze locks onto mine, his beautiful blue eyes shining with the same emotion I feel in my chest. His hand moves to cradle my face, his thumb brushing away a tear that escapes, his touch impossibly gentle.

"I know you love him no matter what," I whisper, my voice cracking. "But if there's even a chance..." My breath catches as I try to keep it together. "I just—I wanted to give you that. To know he's ours."

Rick's eyes are glassy, and his throat works as he tries to form words, but I can see the hope, love, and anguish battling within him. He doesn't need to say it for me to know what he's thinking—what man wouldn't hope that his wife had been carrying his child rather than the product of someone else's cruelty?

But whether or not Andy is Rick's by blood, I know Rick will love and protect him fiercely, with everything he has. That's just who he is

"Well, I hope that's the case," Rick breathes, soothingly rubbing the skin of my thigh as I smile softly in understanding. "But you always had a part of me with you. Whether or not Andy is mine," Rick tells me sincerely, his hand on my cheek dropping to my sternum, caressing the skin and muscle that ridges over my ribs. I know he must feel my thumping heartbeat because a smile quirks at his mouth, warm and comforting.

"I was always here Cass. I always will be." His voice is quiet but resolute as he rubs the skin over my heart, and with those simple words, the dam breaks. My eyes flood with tears I'd been fighting, and the emotion swells inside me.

I choke on a sob, pulling him down on top of me, needing to feel him, to have the solid weight of him grounding me. Rick grunts in surprise but quickly lets out a soft chuckle, his body settling into mine as his arms wrap around me. Our bare skin presses together, and I bury my face into his shoulder, tears soaking into his warmth as I revel in the comfort of his presence, his weight a balm to the storm inside me.

"I love you," I murmur, my voice shaky, the words spilling out in between laughter and sobs. "I love you, I love you," I repeat, unable to stop, as if saying it over and over could express the depth of everything I feel.

Rick tries to respond, his voice tender. "I love you too—" but I cut him off, flipping us over in one swift motion, straddling him as he looks up at me, startled. Before he can say another word, I lean down and start showering his face with kisses—on his forehead, his eyebrow, his cheek, his lips, his nose, anywhere my lips can reach. It's like a floodgate has opened, something primal and loving and desperate bursting from me, needing to give him every bit of affection I can.

Rick laughs, light and boyish, his hands landing on my hips as I smother him with kisses. "Cass, I can't—" he manages between chuckles, his chest shaking beneath me. "I can't breathe, woman!" His laughter grows louder, warm and full of life, and it makes my heart feel like it might burst.

Finally, I pull back with a sheepish grin, wiping at the tears still clinging to my eyelashes. Rick's chest rises and falls with laughter, his face flushed from my assault of kisses. His eyes are brighter than I've seen in what feels like ages, his hair tousled from my affection, and a wide smile stretches across his lips as he gazes up at me, amusement and love shining through.

"I wasn't expecting that," he says, his voice light but carrying something deeper—a tenderness, a joy that hums between us in the quiet moment.

"Can't let you have all the fun," I tease, leaning down to press a slow, lingering kiss to his lips, savoring the warmth and softness of him. My heart swells, a deep, contented ache settling in my chest. "Besides," I whisper against his mouth, "you gave me the hardest orgasm I've had in months. I had to give you something in return."

Rick's hands slide up my sides, pulling me closer again, his breath warm against my lips. "You give me everything, Cass. Every day." His voice is soft, but the weight of his words makes my heart flutter, stirring something deep within me—a need, a yearning for more of him, for everything.

A soft moan escapes me, my hips shifting instinctively against Rick's as his words sink into me. My body aches for him, for his touch, and Rick groans in response, his mouth claiming mine in a deep, hungry kiss. His hand presses against my lower back, pulling me flush against him, and I can feel the heat between us rising, the intensity building again, as if we're both helpless to resist the pull any longer.

My fingers slide up his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle, before I tangle them in his curls, tugging gently, knowing the reaction it'll draw from him. The sound he makes, low and throaty, sends a shiver down my spine, my mouth quirking up with satisfaction. His grip tightens on me, and his hips push up slightly, the rough denim of his jeans rubbing against my wet, sensitive core. I gasp, the friction sending a sharp spike of pleasure through me.

"Rick," I breathe, pulling away from the kiss just enough to rest my forehead against his. Our eyes lock, and I feel a rush of boldness surge through me. "I want to do something different," I say, my voice shaky but filled with desire.

Rick's eyes darken, his gaze flicking to my lips as I bite down nervously before meeting my eyes again. "What?" he asks, his voice low and gravelly, laced with both curiosity and need.

A slow grin spreads across my face as I lean closer, my heart pounding. "I want you to take me from behind," I whisper, feeling my cheeks flush as the words leave my mouth. "I want you to bend me over this bed and fuck me until I give you that scream you were wanting earlier."

The shock in Rick's eyes is immediate, his breath catching as he stares at me like he's trying to process what I've just said. "Y-You want—" He swallows, his eyes searching mine. "You really want me to do that?"

I can't blame him for his surprise. We've always been more passionate and loving than that. Always face-to-face. Sometimes more feral and rushed than others, but it has always been meaningful. The first time we had sex the night of Deanna's party, we both already loved each other, we just hadn't admitted it yet. But what I'm asking for now is something rougher, something primal. The way he spoke to me earlier, the fire in his eyes, stirred something inside me—a desire for more, to surrender fully to him, knowing I'm safe in his hands.

I nod, shifting on his lap. "We don't have to," I add quickly, sensing his hesitation. "But the way you talked to me earlier... the roughness... I trust you, Rick. Completely. I know you'd never hurt me," I assure him, my voice soft but firm.

Rick seems to hesitate. "Even after all you've been through? A-Are you sure?" he asks, his brows knitted together, making me smile softly. My sweet husband.

"I'm sure. I know you'll stop if I tell you. I feel completely safe with you Rick." I reiterate with him sincerely. "But if you don't want that, it's fine. We can do anything else, I just want you," I breathe, making Rick grin up at me.

Rick's expression softens, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips as he lets out a breath he's been holding. "No, it's not that," he says, his voice low and intimate. "I just... I only want to do things that you're comfortable with. But if you're sure..." His eyes darken again, a smirk playing on his lips as his hands slide down to grab my ass, giving it a squeeze that makes me let out a small gasp.

"How could I not want that?" Rick breathes, his voice rougher now, thick with need. He leans in, brushing his lips lightly against mine, teasing, sending sparks of electricity down my spine. "I can't say I've never thought about it," he murmurs, his breath hot against my mouth. His grip tightens, his hands commanding, and before I can respond, he flips me effortlessly onto my back. My body bounces against the mattress, a laugh of pure, unbridled excitement slipping out as I gaze up at him.

Anticipation courses through me as Rick strips off his jeans with a practiced ease, tossing them aside without a care. His cock stands hard and ready, a sight that makes my stomach tighten and my mouth water. Every part of him is familiar, but no less thrilling, his body a source of endless desire that I can't seem to quench.

Rick kneels on the bed, his chest heaving with deep, controlled breaths, and the grin spreading across my face mirrors the hunger in his eyes. "Ready to scream, sweet wife?" His voice drops into that deep, commanding timbre that sends a molten wave of heat pooling between my thighs.

Before I can even answer, Rick grabs my hips and in one fluid motion, he flips me onto my stomach. The swift shift leaves my heart racing, my body trembling with anticipation. I prop myself up on my forearms, knees tucked beneath me, bracing for him. His touch is firm yet gentle as he pulls me back toward him, positioning me exactly how he wants, his presence looming behind me.

A low moan escapes me as I feel the head of his cock slide teasingly between my thighs, not entering, just pressing, the slow friction driving me mad with want. The heat of him, the deliberate way he moves, sets my body alight. I arch my back, wordlessly begging for more, offering myself to him, desperate for the sweet, overwhelming fullness of him inside me.

"Fuck, Cass," Rick groans, his voice thick with lust as his hands trail up from my hips, skimming over my back. His touch is grounding, calming even, despite the storm of desire building inside me. I arch further, pushing against him, craving the connection only he can give. He leans over me, his breath hot against my ear as his hands find my breasts, kneading them in rhythm with the slow rocking of his hips.

"You look so fucking good like this," Rick rasps, his words sending a shiver through my entire body. His grip tightens, and the way he takes me, the way he owns every inch of my body, makes me feel cherished, claimed, and utterly alive in his hands.

A strangled moan escapes my lips as he rubs against my soaked entrance, not yet giving me what I crave but letting me feel his heat, his hardness.

"Please, Rick," I gasp, my voice trembling, the desperation thick in the air between us. My body aches for him, every nerve buzzing with the need to be filled, to have him inside me. I clench around nothing, the emptiness unbearable as I press my ass back into him, silently begging. "I need you."

Rick, ever the perfect husband, doesn't make me wait a second longer. He pulls back, his hand sliding down to grip my hips, steadying me as he aligns himself with my entrance. The first slow, deliberate push of him inside me steals the breath from my lungs, my fingers curling into the sheets as I adjust to the delicious stretch of him filling me.

"Fuck," Rick groans, his voice low and rough, vibrating through my core. His grip tightens as he sinks deeper, each inch setting me on fire, claiming me completely. The sensation of him inside me, coupled with the primal position, sends a pulse of pleasure straight to my core. I moan loudly, my hips instinctively rolling back to meet his, urging him to go deeper, harder.

"You're so fucking tight," he groans through clenched teeth, his voice strained with need as he pulls back and thrusts into me again, harder this time. I cry out, gripping the sheets for dear life, my knees spreading wider to give him all the access he needs. "Always so tight, so perfect for me."

His words, rough and dirty, send a new wave of arousal crashing through me, and I feel myself tighten around him, drawing him in deeper. Rick grunts, his hands sliding to my ass, squeezing firmly before spreading me wider, making sure I feel every inch of him as he pounds into me. The pace quickens, each thrust more demanding, more primal, and I'm lost to it, my body a slave to the rhythm, to the intensity of our connection.

"Fuck, Rick!" I cry out, my voice breaking, the pleasure building rapidly, coiling tighter in my core with every thrust. He's relentless, hitting deeper with each stroke, driving me closer to the edge, my breath coming in ragged, shallow gasps as I feel myself unraveling.

Rick leans over me, his chest pressing against my back, the heat of his body enveloping me as one hand snakes around to find my clit. His fingers tease the sensitive bundle of nerves, sending shocks of pleasure through me, while his other hand grips my shoulder, pulling me back into his powerful thrusts. 

"You gonna scream for me, Cass?" he growls, his voice dark and rough, the sound sending a shockwave of heat straight to my core. His words are a command, an invitation, and I can already feel myself unraveling.

The pressure inside me builds until it's unbearable, and with his fingers pushing me to the brink, the thick rope of pleasure finally snaps. My vision blurs, my body locking up as a tidal wave of pleasure crashes through me. "Oh, God, Rick!" I scream, my voice raw, my body shaking violently as I come, trembling uncontrollably in his arms. My knees buckle, but Rick holds me firm, his hips still driving into me, drawing out every last wave of ecstasy, every gasp and moan that escapes my lips.

"That's it, Cass," Rick groans, his voice rough with pride and lust, his hand gripping my hip tighter as his thrusts grow more erratic. "That's my Cass, my wife, my sweet, perfect girl." His words are thick, breathless, each one sending a jolt of warmth through me even as I struggle to come down from the high. His thrusts grow erratic as he chases his own release, his grip tightening on me, fingers digging into my skin as his body begins to tense.

With one final thrust, Rick buries himself deep inside me, his entire body shaking as he comes, a low, guttural moan escaping his lips. I feel the warmth of him filling me, the sheer force of his pleasure vibrating through me, and it makes my whole body quiver in response.

We stay there, entwined, both of us panting, skin slick with sweat, our hearts racing as the intensity of what just happened slowly fades into the quiet of the room. Slowly, Rick releases his grip, his hands sliding gently up my back, soothing the trembling muscles.

He pulls out of me carefully, and I collapse onto the bed, my body spent, but a smile tugs at my lips as I turn on my back to look up at him. Rick lays down beside me with a heavy sigh, pulling me into his arms without hesitation, his breath still ragged but his hold tender.

"You okay?" he asks softly, brushing a strand of hair from my sweaty face, his eyes searching mine with that familiar concern. His hands are gentle now as he holds me close, the intensity of the moment slowly fading into a deep sense of connection.

I nod with a breathless smile, my heart still racing. "More than okay, Rick. Happy honeymoon to us," I chuckle, making Rick's flushed expression get taken over with an equally happy grin.

He shifts in the bed he set up for me, leaning forward and pressing a simple soft kiss to my lips, leaning his forehead against mine. "Happy honeymoon. I love you, until the day I die," he murmurs, making me whimper, shaking my head, pulling him closer.

Something tugs in my chest the idea of losing him, something dark and heavy and aching. "No. You're never going to die," I whisper, shaking my head, making Rick tilt his head, smiling at me with amusement.

"We're all going to die one day, Cass, you're a doctor; you know this," Rick rumbles with amusement, our naked bodies intertwining, our skin hot and radiating love.

"If you die, I'm coming with you. I can't live without you," I murmur stubbornly, nuzzling against Rick's chest. He huffs, his hand rubbing my back before trailing soothing fingers through my hair.

"You can," Rick assures me, but I shake my head stubbornly again.

"No, I can't!" I retort with an exasperated laugh, pushing myself up to glare at him playfully.

Rick tilts his head, eyes twinkling with love and amusement. "You can. You're stronger than I am."

I narrow my eyes, irritated that he thinks I could survive in a world without him. "I will wrestle you to the ground, Grimes," I threaten, making a steady grin spread across his perfect features.

"Is that a promise?"

"Oh, shut up and kiss me,  you idiot."

___

A/N: I hope you guys liked it!! thank you all again, I wish you all the absolute best!! Apologies this took so long (we're already halfway to 600k now oops), my original honeymoon smut scene got deleted and was honestly a bit too similar to the last smut scene in the chapter Split Open for my liking as I wanted to make sure this one was worth reading and not something repetitive!

ily forever <3