Michonne jolted awake to find her hands bound with rope. She struggled to rise from the bunk bed, a dull headache throbbing in sync with her heartbeat.
"Easy now," said a calm voice to her right. "You're gonna be alright."
Michonne turned to find Rick sitting beside her, an opened water bottle in his hand. For the first time since burying Andre, Michonne felt on the verge of tears.
It's really him, she thought, desperate to throw herself into his arms.
"Who are you?" he asked. "What's your name?" His blank stare stopped her cold.
Michonne had apparently survived one delusional man to fall in with another. The man questioning her wore Rick's face, but his eyes held no sign of recognition. She struggled to sit upright and Rick assisted her, placing a hand on the small of her back. She winced at the sharp pain in her bandaged thigh.
"Water," she croaked. Rick tipped the water bottle to her lips and Michonne drank in his appearance, along with the water. His sparkling blue eyes were the only thing that hadn't changed. His tanned skin had more wrinkles than she remembered and a brown beard, sprinkled with gray, covered his square jaw and chin.
Why is he pretending not to know me? Her locs were past her shoulders now and malnutrition had left her thinner, but she wasn't that unrecognizable.
Her heart clenched at a terrifying thought. Maybe he'd forgotten her; maybe she'd been no more than a one-night stand from five years ago. The thought that this man – the father of her precious son – had abandoned the memory of their night together, was almost too much to handle in her weakened state.
Rick misinterpreted the terror etched on her face. "We're not going to hurt you. We just want to know who you are and why you had that baby formula."
Michonne focused on the pain in her thigh to distract herself from the anguish settling in her gut. She needed to remember there were more important things at stake than her wounded ego.
"A young guy and girl. I came across them a few miles west of here. They were shopping for baby supplies. Glenn – I think his name was Glenn."
"Glenn. Maggie is the girl," Rick said, leaning forward and invading her personal bubble. "Where are they now?"
"The scum who put a bullet in my leg took them. A dumb shit who goes by the name Merle."
"Merle?" a voice asked from just outside of the cell. A grungy man in a black leather vest, a crossbow at his side, stood in the cell entryway; his permanent scowl almost a perfect replica of Merle's.
"You must be the brother, Daryl," Michonne said. "Glenn wouldn't tell him where you all were. I think that's why he took them."
Rick grabbed her thigh, pain shooting through her leg. Michonne winced.
"Sorry," Rick said, his expression apologetic. "Where'd he take them?"
"A town called Woodbury. It's run by a sociopath called the Governor." Michonne addressed Daryl. "And Merle's his loyal lapdog."
"My brother ain't loyal to nobody, 'cept himself and me," Daryl said.
Michonne addressed Rick. "Look, I have a friend there, Andrea-"
A flicker in Rick's eyes halted her. Rick, Daryl, Merle, Glenn. Suddenly, the stories Andrea had told her about her lost people came flooding back. The sheriff's deputy who woke from a coma alone, seeking out his wife and son, finding them by what could only be described as an act of God. Was the wife outside the cell, listening to their conversation? Is that why Rick wouldn't acknowledge her?
Focus Michonne. "I think you know Andrea. Blonde, smart, good with a pistol," she said, watching him closely.
"Sounds like her." Rick looked to Daryl and then back at her. "How do you know Andrea?"
"I found her wandering in the woods, being trailed by walkers. I saved her life and we've been together ever since. I managed to leave Woodbury, but we were...separated in the process. I need to get her out of there." Michonne's voice betrayed her regret for not convincing Andrea to come with her.
However poorly Andrea had treated her, Michonne couldn't just leave her in the hands of the Governor. She wasn't the type to hold a grudge.
"Get some rest," Rick said. He placed the water bottle on the floor beside the bed, gently untying the rope binding her wrists. He exited the cell, Daryl following close behind.
Rick locked the cell bars shut. He paused, as though he had more to say. Michonne held her breath, but Rick just trailed her body with his eyes before walking away, abandoning her to a whirlwind of thoughts.
Michonne spread out on the bed, exhaustion overtaking her. Feelings of relief, self-pity, and loneliness swirled within her as she tried to make sense of it all.
Rick is alive.
Tears poured from her eyes and Michonne wept quietly, for having found the father of her son, only for the two to never meet; for being safe and surrounded by people, yet feeling like an abandoned child. She cried herself to sleep, dreaming of a world where Andre and Mike were alive again.
Michonne woke to low voices outside of her cell. She swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her big toe peeked through the hole in her sock. Someone had come in while she slept and removed her boots. She also noticed a small tray filled with crackers, green beans, a stew of some sort, pain pills and another bottled water.
His wife. Her heart wrenched with jealousy.
Michonne dug into the food, finishing everything in under a minute. This was the first meal she'd had in two days. She downed the pills with some water and burped, satisfied for the time being. She slipped her feet into her weathered boots, lacing them tightly. Being somewhere her shoes could be taken off made her feel safe. If the cement floor weren't so cold, she'd happily go barefoot. Her thoughts came easier with her feet unrestrained.
Michonne trudged to the cell bars, putting most of her weight on her uninjured leg. She wished for a mirror, to see beyond the space directly in front of her. Luckily, the voices traveled down the corridor.
"I don't trust her." Michonne recognized Merle's brother, Daryl. "She's probably the reason Glenn and Maggie are missin', not Merle."
"No offense, but kidnapping sounds a lot like your brother." This was Rick. "Anyway, if she were the culprit, why would she come here wounded and leave herself at our mercy? She was running on fumes."
"Maggie and Glenn are MIA and she's our only chance of finding them. Why are we even debating this?" A woman's voice.
Definitely the wife.
Michonne needed to see the woman that even an apocalypse couldn't separate from Rick. Why had she foolishly thought one night would mean anything to a man who'd been married for more than 10 years? Maybe because Rick had the uncanny ability to send her desire into overload and turn her rational thoughts to mush.
"We need more information before we make any kind of decision. We need to find out exactly what we're up-"
A baby's shrill cry interrupted Rick's declaration; a glorious sound she never thought she'd hear again.
"Looks like someone needs a diaper change," the woman said. The child wailed at the top of its lungs. "Hand her over, Rick."
"Thanks Carol. I couldn't change a diaper to save my life. Lori was always better at that kinda stuff…" Rick's voice trailed off.
Was? Shame mingled with the hope she felt at the revelation. And then she scoffed at the fact that Rick had not only managed to knock Michonne up after one night, but to father a child during the apocalypse. The man's track record was almost comical.
"You just focus on getting Maggie and Glenn back," Carol said. "Judith's in good hands."
"The sooner we find out what this lady knows, the sooner I get my brother back," Daryl said. "Let's do this."
Michonne backed away from the bars as two sets of footsteps approached. If this Daryl guy was anything like his brother, then she was in for a fight. Without her katana, she was at a serious disadvantage.
Rick and Daryl came into view. Michonne felt like a caged zoo animal, ready to bare her teeth at the smallest sign of attack.
"Nice to see you're up," Rick said flippantly. "We need to know more about this...Governor, and the town he runs. How well defended are they?"
"Armed guards on every wall. Military grade guns and ammo, including a truck and mounted machine gun. Obviously, you don't want to roll up and ring the doorbell." Michonne's warning was genuine, though she suspected Rick was not the type to back down from a fight.
"And you're sure this Woodbury is where Maggie and Glenn are being held?"
"Merle isn't exactly a master strategist. He depends on the Governor for calculating the next move." Michonne ignored Daryl's glare.
"How do you plan to get us in there?" Rick asked.
"The same way I got out - through a gap in one of the fences."
"You said all the walls were guarded."
"This one, not so much. I found it during my surveillance of the area. As long as we go in at night, and you do as I say, we should be able to slip in unseen." She noted Rick's skeptical expression. "I'm the only chance you've got of getting your people back alive. You need me."
The shared look between Rick and Daryl told Michonne they were in.
"Fine, we'll do this your way," Rick said. "But if you even think about betraying us, I won't hesitate to kill you. Are we clear?"
Michonne smirked to hide the hurt she felt at his threat. The man who'd once whispered sweet nothings into her ear, was now quick to threaten her life. She reminded herself that this man was not her Rick; and maybe that Rick had never been hers to begin with.
"Let's focus on getting out of there alive and leave the intimidation for later." She would do as she promised, and help them rescue their people. As to her future with Rick, that was yet to be determined.
Michonne led Rick and Daryl through the woods as the sky darkened. She approved of Rick's choice to bring Daryl along. Although it was hard to completely trust the man who looked so much like Merle, he proved to be capable and willing to do what was necessary to survive.
They had narrowly escaped death thanks to Daryl's quick thinking. Their decision to take refuge in a small cabin led to a deadly altercation with a shotgun-wielding lunatic. Michonne had stabbed him through the spine to prevent him from opening the door to a horde of walkers. While Rick stood gaping at Michonne, like she was the insane one, Daryl tossed the man's body to the walkers, distracting the horde long enough for them to escape through the back door.
Michonne felt Rick's eyes on her as she guided them to the outskirts of Woodbury, the town's walls becoming visible in the distance.
"How many people have you killed?" Rick asked. Michonne assumed the question was directed at her, since Daryl hadn't just stabbed a disarmed man in the back.
"Not enough," Michonne responded. The Governor's face singed her mind's eye.
"Why should I trust someone like you around my people?"
Michonne glared at Rick, having reached her limit for his impudence. "Someone like me? You mean the someone who just saved your sorry life?"
Rick faced her head on. "Someone who kills without hesitation."
"I'm a survivor, Rick. I didn't make it on my own by being a saint. I do what I must to survive. Always have, always will."
"He was unarmed. You could've just knocked him out."
"I could've, but I didn't." Michonne sighed. "Look, after we get your people back, I don't plan on sticking around. Especially with a man who's unable to see who I truly am." Her voice broke.
The suspicion in Rick's eyes melted away. "There's no need for rash decisions. We've got a job to do, so let's just concentrate on that."
Michonne wavered at the vulnerability in his voice. He almost sounds like he wants me to stay. Afraid to hope, she continued on the path to Woodbury, mentally preparing herself for the battle ahead.
Michonne kicked in the Governor's front door. The fires blazing in oil barrels on the street cast the apartment in a muted glow, allowing her to stealthily navigate the small space.
After locating Maggie and Glenn, Michonne left the group in search of Andrea. The room they'd shared was empty and there was no sign of Andrea on the street. The Governor's apartment was the only other place she could think to search.
"Andrea!" Michonne shouted, desperate to locate her friend and afraid of what the Governor might have done to her. Silence was the only response.
She searched the bedroom, finding it empty. Michonne ran through the kitchen, stopping at the door of a second room. She turned the knob only to find the door locked. She slammed her shoulder into it. The door refused to budge.
"Andrea!" she yelled, banging on the door.
"Michonne," the Governor said from over her shoulder, the surprise in his voice genuine.
She whipped around, but he tackled her to the floor, knocking her senseless and sending a vase crashing to the ground. She barely made out his words as he straddled her hips. "I knew you'd be back. There's no way we don't end up together."
Michonne's ears rang and her vision blurred. She was vaguely aware of the Governor ripping open her vest and the buttons clattering to the floor. She felt the air on her stomach as he shoved her t-shirt up, exposing her bra. His disgusting grunts were the only sound in the room. As he popped open the button of her fly, Michonne reacted, a shot of adrenaline rushing through her bloodstream. Abruptly coherent, Michonne shoved her knee up hard, connecting with his balls.
The Governor cried out and grabbed the area between his legs, rolling off of her and onto his back. Freed from his weight, Michonne reached out and wrapped her palm around the closest weapon she could find - a large shard of glass from the broken vase. He recovered and lunged for her. Michonne jabbed the shard into this eye, the Governor erupting into high-pitched screams. Blood and other viscous fluids oozed from the wound. He screeched in pain.
Michonne rose shakily. She steadied herself and silently slid the katana from its sheath. She raised it high, intending to send the Governor to his grave.
"Do it and I'll put a bullet in your back," Andrea said from behind her. Michonne swung around to find Andrea aiming a pistol at her heart. The pure fear and hate in the eyes of her former comrade stopped her cold. She lowered her weapon, hands trembling.
Michonne asked in a low voice, "You would shoot me to save him?"
Andrea noticed Michonne's state of disarray and turned to look at the Governor. He cried out as his fingers slipped on the shard of glass, too slick with blood to dislodge it. Andrea cringed and raised the gun to Michonne's head, aiming it between her eyes. "I love him."
A part of Michonne wished for Andrea to pull the trigger. The loneliness and heartache from the last two days came rushing back, as she faced a heartwrenching fact - the only two people she cared about wanted nothing to do with her. It was almost too much for her to handle.
Gunshots erupted outside and Michonne's thoughts immediately went to Rick. He needed her. And she needed to fight for him, regardless of what he might think of her. Andrea had made her choice.
"Go! Get the hell out of here before I change my mind!" Andrea shouted.
Michonne's heart filled with pity as she noticed Andrea's hands shaking. She knew, without a doubt, that the woman's love for the Governor would get her killed in the end. And in that moment, Michonne forgave Andrea for not being the woman she had expected her to be. Everyone had the right to pursue their own bit of happiness in this hopeless world; for Andrea, it came in the slithering form of the Governor. And for Michonne, it was an amnesiac Rick.
"However much you hate me right now, I still care about you. You've made your decision, but know this - you can never go back," Michonne said, repeating the words her client had whispered to her five years ago, before being hauled off to serve life in prison.
Michonne realized the truth in those words for the first time in her life. She left Andrea and the Governor behind, in search of Rick.
Michonne lifted her t-shirt, examining the oblong, purple bruise over her right rib cage. She touched it lightly, grimacing from the pain.
"Hershel can treat that," Glenn said. He sat on side of the road while she leaned against the car Rick had driven from the prison. Merle had done a number on Glenn, his shirt stained with blood, and his right eye swollen shut. His nose was broken and would need to be reset.
The two had been waiting since dawn for Rick and Maggie to return with Daryl, who'd been captured in their attempt to escape Woodbury. Rick had sent her with Glenn, apparently not trusting her to have his back after she abandoned them in search of Andrea.
Michonne tugged down the hem of her shirt. "I've had worse."
"I never had a chance to thank you for what you did. Risking your life to save people you don't even know."
Even battered and bruised, Glenn possessed an endearing quality that put Michonne at ease. He was the first of their group to thank her for anything. "Well, I didn't save everyone," she said, her thoughts on Andrea. "And Rick has a funny way of showing his appreciation."
"Rick isn't really himself right now. He lost his wife, Lori, a few weeks ago. She died giving birth and their son had to put her down."
Michonne sucked in a breath. She could only imagine the fractured state Rick was in, especially with a baby to raise in a world of walkers and sociopaths. Grief over Mike and Andre had sent Michonne into a delusional state of her own. For months, she spoke to hallucinations of her dead boyfriend, cursing him for Andre's death one minute and begging him to come back the next.
I doubt he knows right from left; no wonder he doesn't recognize me.
"He may not be able to see it right now," Glenn said, echoing her thoughts, "but we need someone like you. Please consider staying."
Michonne focused on the horizon. "That's really up to him," she said, knowing she would stay in a heartbeat if he asked.
Glenn and Michonne turned at the approach of several dark silhouettes from the woods. Rick, Maggie and Daryl were headed their way.
"What the hell is he doing here?" Glenn yelled. He scrambled off in their direction, brandishing a pistol.
Michonne looked past Daryl to see Merle trailing behind him. She grabbed her katana and followed, itching to get her hands on the man responsible for her limp.
Rick raised his hand, halting Glenn. "Take it easy. He's with Daryl."
"He tried to kill us," Glenn said in a low voice. "And you're letting him live?"
"He's my brother," Daryl said. "I'll make sure he don't hurt nobody."
"Easier to just take him out now and be done with it," Michonne said. Her hands tightened around the handle of the katana.
"No one's taking anybody out," Rick said, glaring at Michonne. "Daryl won't come back without him and we can't afford to lose him. You know that, Glenn."
"You hear that, gal?" Merle asked. "We gonna get nice and cozy, like you and your girl Andrea."
Rick turned his glare on Merle. "The only company you're gonna have is your brother." He spoke to the group. "And I still haven't decided if she's sticking around."
"You would bring this animal back to the prison, but kick Michonne out?" Glenn asked incredulously.
Rick found her eyes. "Your name is Michonne?"
"Yes," Michonne said, scrutinizing his stare for any signs of recognition.
Rick looked past her shoulder, suddenly distracted by something in the distance. Michonne turned to find nothing on the empty road. Rick shook his head and whispered something under his breath. She worried his mind was as unfocused as his gaze.
"Merle can stay on one condition," Glenn said in a steady voice. "Michonne stays."
Michonne gauged the group. Glenn and Maggie held hands, a united front. Daryl scowled but did not object. Merle ogled her breasts. Rick and Michonne connected once more.
"Majority rules, I guess. What do you say, Michonne?" Rick asked with a hint of a smile on his lips.
Michonne released the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "You couldn't get rid of me if you tried."
A/N: Thanks again for all of the reviews and favorites! This chapter is a little longer for those who requested it. :) Hope you enjoy and I look forward to reading your comments!