Chapter 1: After the attack on the prison.
They didn't turn back.
Carl shouldered his father's weight as they walked the forest trails toward the open road. He could only hear the residual explosions, gunshots, and the dull throb of a pulse for a hundred and six footsteps, but his mouth tasted of metallic ash for three, and after five his eyes were wrung-out of tears. He kept a steady pace for all of them. The road was clear and quiet, with no walkers in sight he thought the noise must have drawn the bulk of the walkers toward the prison. Carl was relieved to trade the muddy earth for asphalt and to see that they'd made it before the sun went down entirely.
Rick made a coughing noise when he felt his son's shoulder digging into his ribcage, but the man couldn't see much due to the swelling. Every step brought new agony, so he stopped walking and looked at the boy. "Carl…just leave me here...you won't make it... it'll be dark soon..…jus' go." he pleaded, and in a forgiving gesture, he brushed the hair out of Carl's face. Let me go.
Carl pushed his father to get him moving again, without answering his plea. This man, his father, needed to be alive not just for his sake-but for the entire group, since he knew eventually they would find one another again and when that happened they were going to need him to lead. He had seen Hershel's face, just before it happened, and part of him understood then what he was sure of now, that his father had finally grown to fill the shoes forced upon his feet.
Rick saw the face of a young man as he looked down at Carl. When did that happen? He knew that look, because he'd given it. There would be no way to change Carl's mind, he knew that now. So with he gave to his son's determination and continued down the road.
Michonne POV:
She had yet to cleaned the blood off her blade.
Though hours had passed since she had run the governor through.
Michonne had finally taken him out but not before he got to her people, her family. She sighed. Stopping him didn't bring the peace she sought-but it felt good. Michonne continued to carry her katana, even though the killers blood and the blood of the one he'd killed still painted its sides. In determination she sharpened the sword on a nearby boulder and chose a path that would lead her out of the forest.
Michonne just kept walking after she helped Rick. He was badly beaten, but she felt he would survive. So seeing him so badly wounded ignited a part of her heart. Where is he? Not knowing if Rick found Carl and Judith weighed on her but she assumed that he had. She needed to. After she calmed her nerves. Michonne hoped to catch up with them at some point and regroup, but she couldn't find their trail.
Hours later, she was still walking, trying to keep off the road, hoping to avoid walkers and any stragglers from the Governor's group. Though she doubted there would be any left. Seeing the monster they followed into battle likely shook up the patchwork warriors they'd been made into. She wondered if they were as deeply wounded. Then she hoped they were.
Her muscles were weak from adrenaline and combat, so she took breaks every so often. Massaging her shoulders and wrist. When the sun began to set she made her way towards the road. From there she had a clear view of a familiar neighborhood-this was where she hoped to wait out the night.
She had been looking at the neighborhood, not far off when she noticed them.
Michonne perked up. Were those walkers or... people?
Down the road there were two faint silhouettes. She stalked after them, letting her heart run ragged with hope.
Houses farther in the neighborhood, would likely be safer, but it was too dark and he didn't know if his Dad could walk much further. So Carl chose the first one they came upon.
It was a faded green two story house. Similar to the rest of the block.
Stumbling, he helped his father sit down on the front steps. "Get your gun." he whispered. He knew that he needed to clear the house. He learned how while on a run with his Dad and Michonne. Wow. It felt like such a long time ago to him. That day he got a glimpse of who the samurai woman was, and they had been close ever since. He remembered seeing Michonne save his Dad, but where she went after that he didn't know. "Come on, focus." he said to himself. Not wanting to be caught off guard in the moment while thinking about the past. Kicking open the door he looked around-keeping his gun at the ready.
Rick managed to unholster his and rest it on his lap, just above the bullet wound. Least it stopped bleedin' he thought clenching his jaw. He was too weak to examine it closer. Tired too. The next moment he was struggling to keep his eyes open, they were bruised much like the rest of him.
A few minutes passed… and Rick heard a soft crunch that sounded like foot steps. Alarmed. He grabbed the porch railing, pulling himself upright, and quickly pointed his gun in the direction of the noise. It had gotten fairly dark out, so he could only see about ten feet in front of him.
She'd seen his hunched figure from the street. She noticed a messy head of curls. Must be him. Michonne went toward him slow, not wanting to get shot.
"Hey stranger," she said smile on her face and her head tilted. Michonne inched toward Rick on the porch with her hands in a frozen wave in front of her chest.
He took a deep jagged breath as she walked into his line of vision. Chonne? He lowered his gun, and tried to step down and greet her, but his legs wouldn't let him. Rick's knees buckled on the second step. She ran to him, letting him rest on her shoulders. "Thank you." he said tearing up. Michonne knew how deeply he meant that.
After clearing the house, Carl returned to the porch to help his Dad inside, when he noticed her there. Arm lightly wrapped around his dad. His face lit up and he threw open the door. "How'd you find us?" he said in a whisper as he crouched to hug Michonne.
"I picked up a thing or two from Daryl." she said squeezing him tighter. They had a silent but happy reunion. Not wanting to attract the attention of walkers. "Lets get him upstairs." she said. Carl held the door, as she helped his Dad cross the threshold. Handing Carl her katana as she passed by him. He they shared a look.
Michonne climbed the stairs with Rick in tow, his arm tight around her waist. He was always strong when he needed to be, but he was glad she was there to hold onto. Glad she's safe. Once they had successfully entered the bedroom at the top of the stairs, he made his way to the bed and collapsed into its comfort.
"Do you need anything, I can see if there's any pain meds in the cabinets?" she asked sitting on the edge of the mattress near him. He didn't speak, just looked at her. Rick slowly traced the curved profile of her face, gently stroking his thumb against her bottom lip. She put her hand on top of his and kissed his thumb. Their eyes stayed locked, hers deep chocolate and his cerulean. Michonne smiled into his palm as he let out a deep breath, finally giving his body what it needed. Comfort and sleep.
Michonne got up and silently exited the room-
She wondered where Carl disappeared to. Looking around, she caught him before he left out the front door with her katana. He looked back, and after seeing her he stopped moving. She made a face that she hoped registered as concern and not warning.
"I'm gonna check a few houses for medicine. I'll be back soon." he whispered.
"I'll get it. You stay with your Dad." she said in a low tone.
"No. I can do this. You stay." he tread lightly, seeing her expression change. "You can take care of his wounds, I've seen you help out with that before." he said, his eyebrows knit together. " I CAN do this. So let me."
He didn't wait for a response. This annoyed her but she saw the that he needed her trust. So she gave it.
"Hey." Carl turned to look back at her. "Be careful, and try and find some water, your Dad's pretty dehydrated." said Michonne.
Carl nodded, gripping the katana. She smiled, hoping it was the right decision. Still glad that she'd given him the blade, but uncertain if he could wield it like they practiced.
The bedroom had an attached bath, and Michonne tore through it. Opening the medicine cabinet and digging under the sink, coming away with a Red Cross first aid kit and rubbing alcohol.
"Alright. Let's see the damage." she mumbled to Rick who was deep into his REM sleep by that time.
Michonne pulled open the drawers of the nightstand next to the bed. Finding a pair of scissors along with a myriad of other items. She delicately proceeded to cut him out of his shirt and jeans, tugging away the offending fabric. He lost so much blood. She noticed the bullet wound outside before, but up close it looked much worse. He's gonna need those drugs.
She knew enough and had learned even more about treating wounds, both from previous experience and by watching Hershel. Remembering. Michonne paused, suppressing the tears that would come if she followed that train of thought, and began treating Rick.
Carl had returned a few hours later with a small grocery sack of pill bottles and first aid items-and a gallon jug of water. Michonne could see he was fading fast so she made him go lie down in the other bedroom. He listened this time.
The adrenaline that had gotten her through the day left her. She really started to feel it. After she managed to pop a few pain pills and an antibiotic that looked like it could knock out a superbug into Rick's mouth (she washed it down with a little water) she sat down. In an Instant. She felt herself fading.
Michonne stripped down to her undershirt and boy shorts. Tossing the soiled clothing in a lounge chair at the foot of the bed. She lifted the sheets and revealed a half naked Rick, looking at his form relaxed with sleep let her to rest on his softer lines, which caused another part of her to ignite again.