So I rewatched episode 05, and I made myself mad again. This is basically a three to four chapter purge.
I don't 0wn the walking dead.
Please review.
Chapter I
"And the knight returns to his horse. Exhausted and bleeding, the knight wanted to save everyone. Courageously, he forces his horse to move. He wanted to protect everyone from the horrible monster, and he wanted more than nothing to protect his family…" Michonne takes a deep breath, and she fights through the tears.
Retelling the story of Rick's demise is never easy, but she needs to tell it. Therefore, she takes many breaks between her storytelling. Her breathing is never steady, and Michonne's voice shakes. Her fingers tighten their grip on Judith's little hand while her other hand soothes the agitated being in her stomach.
Everything always feels as if it was yesterday. Was it yesterday that Carol and Maggie were holding her back? Michonne can't really tell. The pain continues to exist, and so time must have refused to do his job. The healing process is nonexistent, and in the worst night, she refuses to accept the truth.
Tonight is one of those worst nights. Her hold on Judith's hand is a bit tighter. The baby is kicking at every jump of her heartbeat. The words fall out of her lips in a disorganized order while her mind insists into detailing every second of the horror in hope to find blue of Rick's survival. Her storytelling suffers through the process of her mind slowly becoming numb. Michonne attempts to shake herself out of her paralyzing trance.
"He wanted more than ever to protect his family, and so..." The words refuse to leave the enclave of her mind, and her hopeful heart imprisons them.
Judith grasps the gravity of the tales. Every night, she quietly listens to the same story. When her mother stalls, she never presses.
"He wanted to protect his family from the monster, and so he pushed his horse forward. The monsters trailed behind him, and the princess was worried. Will he be Okay? She wanted to protect her family and their little princess. The knight disappeared with the monsters, and he saved everyone because he was always a hero." The voice is small, and the tongue twists at the hardest words.
Her diction is poor, but words for words, Judith tells the story with a facility. She leans closer to Michonne's protruded stomach, and she does not want her little sibling to miss a line.
"Everyone said the knight disappeared forever, but the princess refused to believe it. In her heart, she knew they were the ones who live, and they were the ones who don't die. Maybe the knight disappeared, but it was not forever. He would come home." Michonne finishes the story, and she kisses the crown of her daughter's head. "Tonight, we end it here."
"Goodnight, mama." Judith kisses Michonne's cheeks, and she leans to kiss Michonne's stomach." Goodnight, baby." She whispers between many yawns.
Another yawn leaves Judith's lips, and Michonne attempts to leave the room. Like every other night in the last six months, Judith firmly holds on Michonne's hand.
"Don't go, mama." She presses her golden-haired head on Michonne's hand.
Fear lives in Judith's voice, and Michonne scoops her daughter. In six months, Judith has not allowed Michonne out of her sight. With the development of the pregnancy, the little girl has become more protective of her mother. Grief has taken many forms in the Grimes' household.
"Okay! Make some space for me, baby," Michonne replies with relief.
Michonne is afraid too, and staying in Judith's room is a way to delay the inevitable. She does not want to return in the room, which she shared with Rick. Michonne does not want to face his absence. She can't sleep with the cold spot on the other side of the bed. She can't face the clothes, which he will no longer wear. Michonne won't survive the sight of the last shaving stick, which Rick used. Therefore, she welcomes Judith's request every night.
"Mama?" Judith calls for Michonne in her drowsing state.
"Yes, baby?" She pushes the hair in front of Judith's eyes, and she waits for the little girl to speak.
" I hope the knight return to his home because the princess misses him like we miss daddy." With her innocent words, Judith reminds Michonne that reality always finds a way to crush any fairytale.
"He does," Michonne tells a lie, which contains the hope that she refuses to relinquish.
"Grimes." A foot collides with Rick's ribs before his name echoes in the dark room.
Rick's eyes flutter open, but the task is purposeless. Darkness consummates every space in the room. He can't tell if it is dawn or twilight. Rick's fingers slip below his body and graze the bruised ribs. A viscous liquid coats his finger, and he does not need the light to tell that it is blood. For the last months, his wound has not completely healed. Every little progress made toward full recovery, his captors have sabotaged.
"180" Rick whispers to an inaudible volume.
180 days or approximately six months since he woke up in that bed. His happiness for being alive did not last. From the recovery bed to the cold hard floor of his dark cell, it took nothing more than a rebuttal to an offer.
"Still not willing to cooperate?" A hand grabbed his hair, and his captor drags him out of the cell.
Six months in captivity and Rick has not put a face on the voice. The last face, which he remembers, belongs to Jadis. Jadis' voice and her advice echo in his mind.
Cooperate. Don't be difficult, and do not attempt to negotiate.
Rick did none of it, and what was a potential source help became a relentless tormentor. No was not an answer, which they were willing to take, and yes was a binding lie, which Rick was not willing to tell.
"Go fuck yourself," Rick says with a voice, which the lack of use has strained, but the cockiness continues to preserve the richness of his southern tone.
"Wrong answer." Hot air caresses Rick's ear, and the grip around his hair tightens.
Granite scratches his thin skin, and pieces of Rick's skin start to adorn the ground of his cell. The skin on the floor matches the dry blood splatter around the walls. Rick swallows his cries, and his pain threshold is nonfunctional.
"Tough guy! Aren't you one, Grimes?" The voice oozes in frustration, and Rick prepares himself for more violence.
Rick no longer has the muscles to cushion any physical blow. Whomever his captors are, they are versed in the art of torture and sequestration. In six months, Rick has become a breathing shell. His body is nothing more than an excessively bruised skeletal frame.
They keep him at the brink of death, but Rick can take enough breaths to feel the scorching pain. They are good at torture, but Rick Grimes is stubborn on his most generous days. During his worst days, he is vindictive and dedicated to their annoyance. Between the many blows, Rick knows that he won't hold any longer. A small smirk graces his lip, and he lies on his back to welcome the kick.
"See you on day 182." The laugh is as painful as the kick breaking his ribs, but he has to remind his jailer that he continuous to control the game.
"Bastard." He hears before the world disappears into a crimson red, and his sight vacillates into the deep dark while his consciousness takes a leave.
Xxxxxxxxxx
Michonne stares at the window, where life arrogantly continues to exit. She draws a deep breath, and she tries to ignore the knock at her door. Michonne does not know who is at her door, but she assumes that it is one of her friends coming to fret about her health.
A deep breath does not quiet her fury. A deep breath does not soothe her pain. Anyone's presence by her side is a reminder of Rick's absence. Her anger with everyone is irrational, but she has no power over her grief. Eight months and she continues to fear his ghost. Aside from Judith's room and the kitchen, their house has become a mausoleum. The cup, which Rick has last touched, has not left its last spot. She has not cleaned the living room because she is afraid to dust away what remained of him.
Her behaviours are irrational, and Michonne does not expect anyone to understand. Maggie may come close, but she does not understand. Carol' swords of comfort are not what she wants to hear. Daryl, she can't stand Daryl with his weary eyes on her. However, her friends refuse to afford solitude to Michonne. Therefore, she has to settle for a routine and denial as her grieving process.
The routine is her morning breakfast with Judith. Denial is telling Judith and her unborn child many twisted fairytales, where Rick is the knight who finds a way to his home, to her, and to their children. Their children, pain is when Judith requests a prayer for her daddy. Michonne draws a deep breath. The breakfast is done, and she tries to ignore the knock at her door. Michonne's routine is when she wants loneliness. She grabs her katana, and every step is so arduous to take. Her unborn child believes that it is funny to hug her bladder.
"Judith?" Michonne calls her daughter with a breathy voice.
Eight months through the pregnancy, her body hangs by the thread. Her baby is demanding. Sleep eludes Michonne with the constant urination, but she is grateful because she doesn't revisit the bridge memories through dreams where she has no power over the situation.
"Mama?" Judith appears with her serious expression.
The effect of Rick's desperation on Judith is what hurt Michonne the most. Too young to process loss but trusted into the situation, Judith has only demonstrated protectiveness. She self-appointed as Michonne's protector due to the fear of losing her remaining parent.
"Can you tell to the baby to calm down for mama?" Michonne quietly asks because her baby only wants to listen to his big sister.
A small smile appears on Judith's lip, and Michonne values their routine. Her children are her crutch, and she holds onto her soul for them. She refuses the control, which numbness wants on her feelings. She will continue to feel because there are two lives, who deserve happiness.
"Hey little one," Judith softly whispers against Michonne's overly swollen stomach." Mamma needs you to calm down." She continues and presses a warm kiss on Michonne's stomach.
As usual, there is a reaction to Judith's voice, and the skin of Michonne stomach distorts to accommodate small hands and feet.
"He is saying hi, mama." Judith almost jumps of joy.
Although the muscles are uncomfortable under an almost forgotten tension, Michonne's smile is genuine. It is watery because she will want to share the bond between their children with him. She can't bring herself to say his name. The ghosts of memories tightly hold on his name. The smile is watery, and it wavers at thoughts of him. However, it is still a flutter of joy and hope.
"Thank you, baby." She says with a smile, which fights through the mixture of emotions to hold its spot of her visage.
…
….
…
The knocking sound has not ceased, and she can't forever ignore it. Loneliness is not a luxury, which anyone affords her. Michonne tightens her grip on her katana. Routine will always be her saving grace.
"Carol," Michonne says with a fake smile, which translates as go away.
"Maybe, it is not a good idea." Carol uses a tone of voice, which ranks between pity, concern, and growing exasperation caused by Michonne's stubbornness.
"You don't have to come with me. I can handle it." Michonne says with as much calm as she can muster.
"You're close to term. One day, one week, or a month won't change much to the situation." The sentence is Carol's tactful way to say what they all think.
She needs to give up on his ghost. Michonne needs to grieve, and she needs to let go of hope. Routine is a shield, and she continues to fuel her denial.
"He is out there. I know it. I feel it." She must sound insane to everyone.
She may sound naive, and they may pity her hopefulness. However, they don't have s heart, which beat in symbiosis with Rick's one and she does. Her heart continues to beat, to languish, and to wait. Rick Grimes must be out there, and they will not hold her back this time.
"Michonne." Carol tries again, and it may be the one time, when Michonne is tired of listening
"If you are going to lecture me about what I need to do about my husband, I will ask you to move out of my way. You don't know what I feel or how I feel." She does not raise her voice because Judith may be standing a few inches behind her with the desire to protect her, but her tone is sharp.
"We all loved Rick. We all miss him, and he will want what is best for you and the baby." Carol does not allow Michonne's anger to affect her.
They all know of grief, and they are a family. Michonne bitterly laughs. She can only laugh if they think what she feels for Rick is only love. They must be naive if they equate her everyday agony simply to missing me. When the soul is torn, the effects are an emotional massacre. Her soul is not torn.
It is restless because she knows better than to believe her eyes when it comes to Rick Grimes. Therefore, she pushed past Carol, and she intends to go to the bridge. She will continue to search that river and its surrounding until her hopes are validated. Rick is out there.
Michonne does not make it past the porch. Perhaps, it is the anger or the continual trip to go look for Rick, but her membrane breaks before the due date, which is next week.
"Carol." Michonne winces, and she does not want to alert Judith.
Although, it is a lost cause because the little girl must have developed an acute instinct when it comes to her mother. In a matter of seconds, she is already by Michonne's side
"I'm okay. Your baby brother just wants to come out." Michonne says as she tries to calm a Judith, which holds her tears.
Bravery is a family trait. Judith refuses to let go of Michonne's hand when they rush her to the emergency. She stubbornly demands to see her mother while Michonne goes through an easy 2 hours delivery. When they finally allow her in the room, Judith rushes to hug her mother.
Her defensive stance refuses to disappear, and Michonne's words don't soothe her. She guards Michonne's bed with a ferocity, which almost breaks her heart. When Michonne carefully place Rick junior or RJ, her healthy 7 pounds baby in Judith's arm, she ultimately relaxes. Their family bond is the only way through grief. Routine, denial, and loneliness won't cut it. They will hold on until she finds him as a family.
"Mama?" Michonne looks at Michonne's with aghast eyes when her little brother starts to move.
"That is fine. You're doing a great job." Michonne reassures Judith when she notices Panic in her child's voice.
"Do you want to put him to sleep?" Michonne tries to encourage Judith, which fear of a wrong deed freezes on the spot.
"Can I tell him a story?" She asks full of hope, and she finally starts to move.
"I think he will love that and I will love that. We can't break a family tradition." Michonne's cheek suffers from exhaustion. Her extensive smile is pure and a welcome sight.
"The knight returns to his horse. Exhausted and bleeding, the knight wanted to save everyone. Courageously, he forces his horse to move. He wanted to protect everyone from the horrible monster, and he wanted more than nothing to protect his family…"
Rick's hand between Michonne's thighs retraces its steps and creates a new path of blazing caresses until her ass. With a handful, Rick squeezes the tender flesh. He knows what she likes. Michonne smiles between their kisses. The young woman releases Rick's hand, which she held hostage. He will have better use of it. Promptly, the hand descends on her ass. Rick's lips cover Michonne's one, and Rick's kisses are a careful discovery of Michonne's lower lip, which his teeth trap. The kiss is an expert exploration of her upper lip, which Rick's tongue teases after each nibble…
"Grimes?" His name announces the beginning of the day, and it kicks off a routine while his mind fails to escape into a haven.
Rick has to let go of his fantasies. His reality is one, which can hardly be forgotten.
"674" Rick whispers as a way to keep up with the days as they dissolve his hopes to ever see his family out of his feverish moment.
"I assume your answer will be a variation of fuck you." The voice resonates in his ears, which are slowly losing their functionality. An eardrum can only support so many kicks.
Rick chuckles as he braces himself to the worst.
"What if we actually negotiate this time? You won though guy. We get it you won't break but you can bend. I heard that you have a family out there. Your lady may have or have not given birth to a little guy." Rick's arrogant chuckles die, and he wants to reject the information.
Although, the hope, which started to waver, restores itself. The deep breaths, which add to the bruising of his ribs, become necessary. Rick lays across the floor stained with his blood and many body secretions. Rick hasn't heard his captor speak, but the smugness precedes the words.
"Work for us, and you're free to go play daddy dearest. Although, you can let your pride turn you into a deadbeat dad." He continues to say while Rick catches the underlying threats.
He knows when gold stands as a disguise for bullshit. The stench never goes away, and those lies smell of everything but flowers.
"You will be an amazing recruit once you're back to shape, Grimes. What do you say?" For the first time in almost two years, light baths Rick's body. The sight is horrid, and the smell equally matched. Wounds and cuts cover every inch of his broken frame. Muscles have melted to leave behind sinuous paths in his skin. Rick's eyes have grown used to the dark, and he has to keep them close to avoid a corneal irritation.
"What is your name?" Rick quietly asks, and he finally opens his eyes to see who has been torturing him.
"Not the question, which I expected, but my name is Brad." He answers and leans closer to Rick, which fingers rise to grip his belt.
The bony digits dig into the buckle until he pulls Brad to his eye level.
"If you stayed away from my family, we could have continued this little game forever, but you had to make it so personal, Brad. Now, I have to kill you to send a message to your boss. I was cooperating before this." Rick finishes with a lethal quietness, but with his frail frame, he does not look very intimidating.
"Stubborn Bastard," Brad shouts with fury, and he is about to slam his foot in Rick's head.
Although, he does not have the time to react when Rick cries in agony as he pulls his hand from the belt's buckle. Rick drags the prong lodged in his palm into Brad's eye. The other man falls due to the pain, and it gives a better access of his neck to Rick, who viciously stabs the skin until he repetitively pierces the carotid. Brad falls by Rick's side, and he tries to close the gaping wound with his hands.
Rick returns to his laying position, and he waits for his message to reach the right ears. He needs to leave this place, and he will do so on his term.
"I'm coming home to you, Chonne." Rick smiles at the blurry dancing hallucination of Michonne, which his continuous feverish state creates. Exhaustion claims Rick. He barely reacts when two men in white lift him from the ground, and he focuses on the building's layout while they cross many corridors.
"You have been heard, Mr. Grimes."