She came upon a church two days later.
A relatively young man, still after all these years, dressed in his priestly vestments, sat dejectedly on the steps. The church entrance was fortified with dozens of large spikes driven into the ground- for keeping walkers away, she supposed. It would do nothing for human beings. Though it was doubtful that was a problem. To Michonne's way of thinking, it made no sense to sit on the steps like a waiting buffet, but maybe that was just her. It wouldn't be much of a walker meal anyway, since there was no one in his congregation. And there probably hadn't been for a while. The pastor seemed oblivious to it all either way, just giving his liturgy to the elements and the sky while clasping a bible between the hands that rested in his lap.
Michonne watched him for over an hour before approaching. He was clearly crazy, but did that also mean he was dangerous? For her child's sake, she had to know.
That was what she tried to sort out before coming out from behind the trees. She watched for other, unseen people or weapons, and after a while, she watched for anything at all, besides a lonely man who laughed and cried a little at his own jokes. It became quickly clear though, the priest was utterly alone and afraid of his own shadow. Every noise he thought he heard made him jump. Only once had it actually been something to be afraid of, a feral dog. Still, he managed to scare it off by lobbing his heavy bible at it.
Michonne chuckled quietly at his expense.
He may be crazy as a loon and somewhat sacrilegious, but it seemed, he was also something of a pragmatist. She figured she could handle that in a new companion. And in this world, who was without their flaws?
Michonne's fingers ached from kneading but she didn't stop.
She'd never been the type of girl to give her man a back rub after a long day of work. Never one to expect a back rub either, although Mike had obliged on occasion during the last few months of her pregnancy. Still, it wasn't her thing. But somehow this seemed like a special occasion. What else could you do for a man who single-handedly kept the entire Prison from being overrun with only his thirteen-year-old as backup?
A good back rub seemed the least.
"Good?" She asked as she worked the tight knots in Rick's shoulders.
"Yeah." He practically hummed, his eyes at half-mast.
It had been a long, hard day for everyone, herself included, but Rick she knew particularly, had been through a lot.
Everyone had been aware for a while that someone was feeding the walkers, luring them to one particular part of the fence line in such numbers that their crush had weakened the restraints. Still, they had since been reinforced, so no one expected that an entire part of the fence would just suddenly give way. Or that it would happen when there was practically no one around to do anything about it.
So, it had been just Rick and Carl, holding off a horde, on their own.
Illness had decimated the Prison numbers and those still alive were either recuperating or out on a run, like she was with Daryl, Bob and Tyreese. No one was prepared. And that was a wake-up call. The idea of Rick and Carl struggling against a herd of walkers all by themselves because she was too much of a coward to stick around had been a bigwake-up call. Of course that wasn't quite what happened, but to her it may as well have been. It just seemed like recently, it didn't matter what the run was for, exactly. If it meant that people were leaving the Prison, she was up for joining them. The guilt she now felt about her behavior was palpable.
"Better?" She asked finally, pausing before her hands ached as much as his shoulders did.
"Hmm, yeah, thanks." Rick said as if she'd woken him from a trance. He took her hands from his shoulders and used them to guide her off the small bed, around to face him. She let herself be led, easing from behind him.
He lay down and scooted until his back touched the wall, pulling her down with him. Michonne couldn't help feeling a little uncomfortable, though she still didn't resist. They'd never done this on the block before, potentially in full view of anyone who chose to walk past his cell right then. They hadn't discussed it yet either, outting themselves. Although, she supposed, given what she knew was coming, they'd probably need to do that soon anyway.
"Don't go, okay?" Rick said then.
Michonne sighed deeply. Both Rick and Daryl had been uncharacteristically vocal about their feelings on her frequent runs. And since she could hardly be completely honest about what was keeping her away for weeks at a time, she could only sit there and take it. All the biting comments about her absences, all the sulking when she was about to leave, it became harder and harder to withstand the onslaught. Even Carl was beginning to get moody about it.
"Daryl and I were talking..." Michonne admitted as she settled facing him, her head across from his on his pillow. Rick draped an arm over her, his hand possessively claiming her hip and thigh.
"You and Daryl actually talk? Coulda fooled me." He smiled drowsily.
"Oh, har-har." She retorted but smiled back anyway. "…The Governor's trail has gone cold."
Rick looked intently at her then, searching her face in the semi-dark, for something.
"What do you think it means?" He asked through a yawn, his voice barely above a whisper.
Michonne shrugged. "I don't know. I wanna believe it means he's dead but I know that's not it."
"Can you live with that?" He asked seriously, although it seemed to her like some sort of joke or riddle. "Not knowing?"
"Do I have a choice?" It seemed like she'd run out of choices in every avenue of her life. She didn't like feeling that powerless. She wasn't accustomed to it.
Up until now, she'd had perfectly plausible excuses why she needed to be away. Still, she knew the truth. It wasn't just The Governor and it wasn't just the prospect of this pregnancy. It was the family. It was the idea of linking her life inextricably to all of these people. Not just Rick, Carl and Judith, but choosing a life that included Daryl and Glenn and Maggie. It was being with Hershel and Beth, Tyreese, Sasha and the others. It was growing accustomed to a sense of community and belonging that her body almost rejected. Michonne had known from her first day here that she didn't want any part of it. Not really. The reliable food and shelter were cool but she didn't want or need the people. And now with this baby coming, whether she liked it or not, here was a tangible representation of that attachment. It was too much.
All of it.
"Michonne?"
Michonne was lost in her own thoughts and hadn't heard him. "What?"
"That mean you're sticking around a while?" He asked again, giving her bottom a little lascivious squeeze.
Michonne smiled in spite of her perturbation, covering his hand with her own and intertwining their fingers.
She had warned Tyreese that anger and stupidity got you killed, but they weren't the only things that did. Attachment and sentiment had a way of clouding your judgment and weakening your resolve too. Leaving you open to grievous attack or serious injury. Still, here she was, rubbing her man's back, holding his hand and thanking whatever deity existed out there that nothing had happened to him or his son. It was clearer than ever love and friendship were a liability, Mike and Andrea had taught her that…the hard way.
This was not where she wanted to be. Yet here she was.
"I suppose."
"You sound thrilled." Rick quipped quietly.
"It's not that."
"Then what?" He yawned again.
"How can I know everyone I care about is safe, if he's still out there?"
"You can't. We're not. I'll tell you the same as Carl, we're never safe." The levity of the past few minutes vanished. Rick's voice grew grave.
"How can you believe that when you have them?" Michonne asked dreading the thought of bringing another child into a situation like that.
"It's because of them that I have to believe that." Rick pulled her closer to him.
Michonne rolled then so that her back was to Rick's chest and she could fit into the curve of his body snugly, a little spoon to his big one. He swept her locks over her shoulder and put his mouth on the nape of her neck, softly.
She contemplated his words for a moment in silence. "Then, how could you possibly be okay with me not looking for him anymore?"
"'Cuz it's always gonna be something. And we just have to handle it as it comes. Not just you. We. Handle. It. All of us. There's strength in numbers." Rick said directly into her ear in a husky whisper.
She closed her eyes willing herself to believe him. It just sounded like some platitude to Michonne, but she could tell by his tone, Rick believed it.
Perhaps in time she could too? Michonne shrugged again resignedly. Again, what choice did she have?
"I've been trying to tell you this. You're one of us. Don't go it alone. Be one of us."
He pulled her into his chest, settling in more behind her.
Michonne mulled it for long minutes. If there was ever a time to just say it, to tell Rick she was pregnant, this was it. In the quietude of this moment and in the sentiment of this conversation.
"Rick…" she started, holding her breath and beginning to break his embrace in order to turn and face him again.
"Don't go." He whispered again into her neck, tightening his arm as he drifted into unconsciousness.
"I already said I wouldn't."
"No, I meant tonight." He muttered.
It was the last coherent thing he said before his breaths grew shallow and she lost him to sleep.
Michonne closed her eyes and tried to draw comfort from the idea of her baby born into a fierce family of warriors, all ready and willing to do battle for one another.
Unless she planned to listen to this guy's homily to the squirrels, Michonne had waited long enough, she decided.
She walked directly out of the bushes toward where he sat startling him, which was her intention. The priest tried scrambling to his feet, tripping over his robes as he tried to retreat up into the safety of his sanctum.
"I don't have anything!" He yelled back at her, still trying to get inside.
Michonne strode across the lawn separating them not wanting to be on the other side of the door when he got it closed.
"Please, please, I swear," He stuttered and sputtered over his words, cringing back when she put her hand up to keep the door open.
How did someone like this manage to survive two years into the end of days?
Up until this very moment, Michonne had been nearly certain all the weak, broken and otherwise less-hearty people of the world had been quite literally devoured by now.
Was this an act? She wondered again.
If it was, he'd discover quickly she was not the one. Maybe if he was particularly lucky, he'd live to tell the tale.
She eyed him as he tripped his way further into the nave, pleading for his life. His light brown skin growing red and sweaty as he bumbled around.
"Padre, calm down." She said after closing the door to the chapel behind her. She stood in the vestibule reluctant to come closer in case he wasn't just cowardly but also erratic.
It felt strange to be speaking to a corporeal person again. She'd been talking to her ghosts for so long it felt odd that someone real might actually answer.
"M-my people are coming back. I won't be alone here for long. P-please just take what you want and go."
Michonne looked around the cool, dark, clearly empty sanctuary. Unless she was in the market for some religious artifacts, there was really nothing to have.
"I don't want anything from you." She said as soothingly as possible. "Just calm down."
"—Because I don't have anything! They'll be back soon!"
"Father! Stop!" Michonne put up both her hands, jostling the baby who cried out in protest once.
The priest looked down at her midsection in surprise, only just realizing that she had something there. Michonne looked down too, peeking into the sack. Her daughter blinked up at her, gurgling. She'd fed her while they waited in the woods sussing out the priest, so this was just Aria being her new mellow self. Michonne smiled for a moment before looking back at the stunned cleric.
"Y-you have a baby in there?" He asked hesitantly emerging from behind the pew where he cowered.
Careful, he's a fool if he imagines that makes you any less of a threat than you were a minute ago, and idiots are dangerous. Rick's voice reminded her.
But that's his mistake to make. Carol added.
Michonne didn't speak, she just continued to watch him closely.
"I'm sorry. I'm Father Gabriel." He said laying his hand across his chest before reaching as if to shake hers. "And you are?"
Michonne still didn't reply, instead looking around the room for other exits or still other people, possibly laying in wait.
The priest took a deep breath calming himself. He looked at her, seeming to take her all in finally.
Michonne had no doubt she looked formidable. With her trench coat, hiking pack and katana, she looked like one of the wandering samurai from her favorite old movies. The baby threw off the look somewhat but only if you actually realized Aria was there, hidden among her clothes.
"Please, please sit down. Are you hungry? Do you need something to drink? Either of you?" He said backing down the aisle toward the altar. "I have water and the group found some cans of concentrated apple juice. I could open one of those?"
"I thought you didn't have anything?" Michonne asked easing the pack off her shoulder.
"Ah, well." He paused realizing his mistake. "Well, you know. I didn't. Not before the group came. But then we went to the food pantry—"
"There's a food pantry?" Michonne didn't think she'd ever heard better news.
"Um, there was. But we got most of the things from there that were still edible. It's all here now. Well, some of it's here. Some, they took with them." The priest spoke quickly like one of those dolls that needed winding up at first but then wouldn't stop chatting.
"Your group?" She asked, following him slowly up the aisle. She suddenly wandered if his "group" was a figment of his imagination like hers was.
"Does the baby need anything? The pantry doubled as a Goodwill. Let's see, we found diapers and wipes, formula, pacifiers…"
"It's okay, she's fine." Michonne couldn't help but be amused by his sudden burst of enthusiasm.
"It's a girl!" He said taking a step toward her then to look before thinking better of it and stepping back.
Michonne put a protective hand across her child and stepped back simultaneously.
"I-it's just that our other baby is a girl too. That's all. I just thought it was a happy coincidence. No need to go out looking for blue stuff right?" He began stammering again, conceivably noting the extreme caution in her expression.
"Other baby?" Michonne gripped the head of the pew in front of her. "What other baby?"
She knew it was stupid. The feeling that surged in her chest. This was proof that her daughter was not going to be the last baby born to the world. And that she certainly wasn't the only one…even if it had felt like it.
"The group leader. He has a baby daughter…and a son. But the boy is a preteen."
Michonne's heart lurched. If she wasn't gripping something already she might have collapsed. The priest was still speaking but all she could hear was the blood rushing to her head, making her feel light-headed. She reflexively placed her hand across her daughter. Their daughter.
He was still alive. They were still alive.
"H-how many? In your group?" It was Michonne's turn to stammer. She sat down then before she could fall down.
"About 12, I think."
Twelve. Tears came to her eyes. Twelve still alive. It was almost like her bones knew which ones too.
"Miss? Are you okay?" Gabriel asked his expression turning sober.
"And where are they?"
"Well, I don't understand completely but two of them were apparently taken to a hospital in Atlanta. They went to get them. I stayed behind with the boy and the baby."
"They're here?" Michonne leap back to her feet, startling the baby who whined. "Carl and Judith are here?"
The Father's eyes widened hearing her children's names. "You know Rick?"
"They're here?" Michonne looked around demanding, "Where?"
Gabriel eyed her suspiciously again and then after a moment said reluctantly, "In the Rectory."
He pointed in which direction. Michonne didn't feel as if her legs were strong enough to carry her down the long center aisle to where she needed to be.
"Carl! Carl!" She just cried out loudly from where she was, wiping the sudden stream of tears from her eyes with her sleeve.
Off to the left, an inconspicuous wooden door creaked open slowly and then there he was, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He looked older, taller, more angular, his hair was a bit longer too, but it was still her boy.
"Michonne!" He said clearly as astonished to be laying eyes on her as she was on him.
He threw the door wide and ran to her, his hat falling off in the process.
He ran into her embrace before she could stop him, only narrowly missing Aria because of Michonne's arm between them.
"Careful," She said stepping back and checking to make sure the baby was okay.
Carl looked down in confusion.
"You'll squash your sister."
"My–?" He repeated bewildered.
Michonne put both hands under Aria and pushed her up closer to the top of the sack presenting her to her brother. She began to cry then, upset to be displaced.
Carl peered over the lip of the burlap and looked down at his sister and then back up at Michonne. A large smile broke out across his face.
"You, you did know about your father and me?" It had never, until that moment, occurred to Michonne to ask.
Carl cocked his head to the side, a mirror image of his father, and smiled. "C'mon, everyone knew."
Michonne couldn't even unpack that information. She was too overwhelmed.
"I mean, if they didn't know before, they know now. He hasn't been doing so good since you..." Carl's face grew grim and he trailed off as if he didn't know how to finish the sentence.
"What's her name?" He asked suddenly over her increasingly ear-piercing cries.
"Aria." Michonne answered, bouncing her up and down to calm her. "Aria Rachel."
They just smiled at each other for another long moment before Michonne grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back into her. She kissed him on the forehead and smelled his hair, desperate to stay in this moment with two of her children.
Suddenly, there was a brief honk outside.
"They're back." Gabriel announced.
Michonne looked at the priest as if he'd just materialized out of nowhere in front of her. And for a moment it felt as if he did, she was so caught up.
"I've got to go get Judith." Carl said letting Michonne go and running back into the Rectory for his sister.
Gabriel walked back down the aisle toward the front to get the doors.
All these months of being alone.
Months of thinking that there would never be another place she could call home again. That she could ever feel safe again. All the fear and doubt extinguished. Just that quickly. In the time it took to know that Rick, Carl and Judith, Maggie and Glenn, Daryl and the others could still be alive, Michonne felt like she could breathe again. Exhale finally, knowing that home was now and forever going to be wherever these people were. Her family of warriors, as committed to keeping her safe as she was to them.
The ghosts hadn't been lying. She and her daughter were not alone. They had never been.
Michonne turned toward the doors and Carl caught up to her with Judith on his hip. She'd gotten so big! Michonne smothered the little girl's face with kisses and tugged on her foot as she used to, which got her a smile and giggle for her trouble.
She smiled as Father Gabriel pulled back the doors, bathing the sanctuary in sunlight.
"C'mon, you guys." Michonne said happily, holding them to her as they walked down the aisle. "Let's go say hi to your Dad."
END.