Constructive criticism is always welcome. I don't have a BETA so sorry for any mistakes.

Disclaimer: I do not own nor claim to own The Walking Dead or any characters and places associated with Robert Kirkman, Tony Moore and Charlie Adlard's story or Frank Darabont's adaptation. No profit is made from the writing for this fanfiction!

Michonne missed being a mother. She missed her son too, but over the months and eventually years she had found a way to come to terms with that when it hit her. However much she missed him, and it hurt to admit, but she found herself almost grateful that he didn't have to grow-up with all the death, decay and uncertainty. He didn't have to struggle with the constant danger, about going cold or getting hungry.

She wasn't like Rick, but then again she never had been. Rick could raise a family in this world, he still tried now. Michonne on the other hand, couldn't think of anything worse. She missed Andre. She missed holding him on her hip and snuggling with him, she missed the gargles he made and those big vacant eyes as she tried desperately to make him laugh. More than anything else she missed the slurred little words he made as he tried to imitate her and her boyfriend. There was so much she wished that she could have back, but she couldn't do it again and she didn't envy those that did.

Often she looked at Judith in her makeshift crib, or she would pick her up and hold her in one arm as her hand cradled the back of her head. She'd lose those thoughts and give into the sweet little memories of Andre, just for a moment before they came crashing back.

It always went the same way. She would hand her to Rick and she would swallow her feelings thickly before distracting herself with something else.

Not that day.

It was early morning when Michonne opened her eyes to wailing from the other room. Somewhere lost in her subconscious she knew it had been going on for hours but fatigue had deafened her to it until she had the energy to move. When she did, she found Rick pacing the length of the living room dead on his feet, bags under his eyes looking like they had been etched in with a chisel and mallet.

His eyes flicked to her, before flicking back to the space in front of him, before landing on Michonne again. "Sorry," He said, too listless to mean it. "I hope she didn't wake you."

"You want me to take her?" Michonne replied.

The relief on Rick's face was barely visible through the exhaustion and rather than reply he extended out the snotty, waling creature to Michonne who scooped her up and resumed where Rick had finished, jogging her lightly and patting her back. It was moments before Judith's wailing has turned into blubbers, and then into little whimpers, before she gave in, and allowed her head to loll.

Rick collapsed back onto the shared sofa, face somewhere between relief and disbelief and allowed his eyes to close. He felt the cushions shift beside him, and finding himself unable to rest completely opened his eyes to Judith snoring lightly against Michonne's chest.

"Go get some sleep." She muttered. "I'll stay up."

Rick smiled gratefully and stood, heading for the stairs. "You sure?"

"Yeah."

When Rick awoke it was to the sound of giggling, and having rested he was in a better mood to accept it. Somewhere between being handed the sobbing toddler and Rick appearing in the doorway, both Michonne and Judith had slept and she, sat in her highchair and covered in something which looked like Rice Pudding, was giggling manically at Michonne who was growling at her, mouth filled with squirty-cheese.

"Morning."

Michonne jumped slightly, wiping the cheese from her mouth and swallowing before replying "Morning. Sleep well?"

Rick pulled out a chair and sat himself at the table next to his daughter, reaching for the tin which held all that wasn't spread all over Judith's table and face. "Well enough."

Michonne picked up Judith who had taken to making grapping motions at the air, and wiped her face over with a damp cloth before handing her out to Rick. She was gargling happily to herself, her little hand's tangling into Michonne's hair when out of it came something which made both adults freeze.

Amongst the sounds and giggles came something that sounded very much like "mama", and Michonne's heart both lurched and sank in a seemingly impossible move. "Did… did she just…"

Rick dropped his spoon, eyes focusing intently on his daughter. "Did you just speak?" He asked in a soft voice and placed his hands around her, attempting to take her from Michonne.

Judith wailed as she had the night before but this time distinctively saying "mama", long and slurred as she made grabbing hands to Michonne who had dropped into the seat opposite Rick.

For Rick it didn't matter what she had said. She had spoken, and all of the doubts through the trauma of growing up, lack of time going into developing it, her birth, that made him doubt if she would even be able to speak all melted away. He rested her against his chest and hugged her close. Judith continued to blubber but he was too lost in his smiles.

"Michonne, she spoke." He laughed and turned to her.

She was overcome with joy and with pain, and had no willpower to hide it. Wave after wave of the conflicting feelings broke across her face. It was the high of being a mother with the crushing low of losing a child, and it came out in gross sobs.

No. She couldn't do this again.

God, she wanted to do this again. So, so bad did she want to be a mother again.

The smile slipped from Rick's face and he sat down next to. "Michonne?" Shifting Judith from one arm to the other he placed a hand on her shoulder. He expected her to flinch away, but she didn't even feel it to react. Her breaths were coming in pants, her hands came up to her mouth to cover the sobs; she looked inconsolable, but she wasn't. There was something, even Rick could see.

He stood, and placing Judith into Michonne's arms headed towards the kitchen door where he stayed and watched. Watched, not because he was worried for his daughter but because he couldn't find it in himself to leave.

Michonne still sobbed, but they seemed to settle after a while. Her forehead rested against Judith's who was distracted by her sobbing by Michonne's hair. Even her shoulder Rick could see Judith's little hands hold around her neck and he heard a gentle giggling, though he couldn't tell completely who it came from. If he was to guess, he would say it was Michonne.

Thanks for reading!