Chapter Seven: The Nest

"Piti, piti, wazo fe nich li: Little by little the bird build its nest." –Haitian Proverb

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Michonne woke with a searing pain in her neck. She groaned, stretching her sore muscles as she sat up in the back seat of the Jeep Cherokee. For the second night in a row, appearances of the little boy and Winnie plagued her dreams. The early morning light shone in her eyes and she positioned her hand like a visor as she examined the figures moving around outside.

She pressed her cheek against her knee as she watched Rick's silhouette pacing outside as if deep in thought. He paused near the trees on the far side of the camp, rubbing the back of his neck. Michonne pulled her light sweater closer over her body. The early mornings were becoming especially chilly as they moved further into the year.

It was their third day on the mountain. The morning after they arrived, Rick and Morgan made a trip down the mountain to assess the state of the highway and the traffic jam and if there was a clear path to the city. They returned with disappointing news. As they were approaching the abandoned highway, they encountered a large herd-like group of "walkers", as everyone now referred to them. They narrowly escaped.

Their goal of getting to the city would have to wait and the mountain would become their temporary home.

"We found water!" As Michonne exited the car she looked up to see Glenn and Andrea running through a path through the trees.

"What's going on?" she asked, as they approached the center of the small camp.

"There's a river," Glenn explained as he tried to catch his breath. Rick, Shane and a few other inhabitants approached to find out what the commotion was about. "It's down that way." He pointed in the direction they came from. "I'm thinking it could be a good source of food and water. Anybody knows how to fish?"

"We're country guys." Rick nudged Shane, who was still fiddling with his gun. "Of course we can."

"That's good," Shane nodded without looking up from his gun. "We won't starve once we run out of food and water. We can get cleaned up properly too."

"I think I've got a rod with me." Rick started walking away with Glenn in tow.

"How long can we possibly stay on this mountain?" asked Miranda Morales indignantly crossing her arms as the group dispersed to complete their individual morning routines. "We're going to have to leave at some point to reconnect with the rest of the world. We have family out there."

Shane narrowed his brown eyes as he leaned forward to meet the woman's terrified ones. "Look here princess. We're not even sure if there is a rest of the world right now." He held up an old radio that he never seemed to separate from. "It's getting worse, but we're alive. The government might be on the verge of falling. This is our safest bet for now. We all have people we love out there but this is how it is."

"It's true," Michonne said, placing a comforting hand on the woman's shoulder. "It's tough not knowing what's going on, or if our family is okay, but there isn't much we can do right now. We just have to hope for the best."

"If some of us can even be bothered to remember them," Shane growled as he stalked towards his jeep. He opened the trunk and started sifting through its contents.

"What's his problem?" Miranda sniffed as she wiped away her spilled tears.

Michonne shrugged, trying to ignore her wary feelings. "I think he's just a grumpy guy. It's not the worst thing in the world right now."

"That's an understatement," Andrea snorted as she narrowed her eyes in the direction he took off in. "Something's eating at that man."

Shane reemerged from the back of his car with two buckets. "Hey Rick hurry up with that rod!"

Michonne volunteered to go down to the river with Glenn and Andrea to gather water for the camp. It felt wonderful to have a large source of water at their disposal. She took the opportunity to wash her face and freshen up before gathering water for the camp. The three of them conversed as they drew water into containers and contemplated their futures. She learned that Glenn was a pizza boy and Andrea was a clerk at a law firm.

"Hey Michonne!"

Michonne nearly jumped out of her skin before turning to find Carl staring up intently at her. She didn't hear or notice him approaching her as she reentered the small camp. "Hey Carl!" She placed the bucket she was carrying down next to the car and lightly ruffled his hair. "I haven't seen you all morning."

"Sophia and I were playing in Dale's RV with Eliza and Louise. Mrs. Jones gave us cookies." He scratched at a spot on his arm. "It's so cool in there. It looks like a house in there."

"That sounds really cool," she said as she adjusted the strap of her scabbard.

"What have you been doing?"

She did her best Vanna White impression as she pointed to the bucket of water. "Collecting water with Glenn and Andrea."

His face lit up in excitement. "I heard about the river. Shane said he and Dad are going to teach me how to fish. He said we're men so we have to provide the food for the women to cook."

Michonne's eyebrows rose and her face grew contemplative. "Huh." She leaned against the Jeep, crossing her arms. From what she observed during the past three days, it didn't surprise her that Shane would say something like that. "You know, my Mom actually taught me how to fish when I was your age."

Carl's face morphed into an expression of surprise. "Really?" He giggled, looking up at her. "Are you good at everything Michonne?"

She chuckled at the similarity of the boys thought process with his father's. "Not everything." She pulled her hair back away from her face, feeling muggy from her trek up the hill. "My grandmother, Clari, was a fisherwoman. She was the only woman in her village that did that and nobody could catch fish better than her. So I guess it runs in the family."

"Well then I want you to teach me instead," he proclaimed after mere seconds of pondering. "Hey Michonne?"

"Yeah?"

He shuffled awkwardly, playing with the edge of his shirt. "Are you really my Dad's girlfriend?"

"Where did you…?"

"I heard Shane call you that the other night." He averted his eyes. "He called you my Dad's girlfriend?"

As if on cue, she saw Shane emerge from the woods in her peripheral vision. Her eyes narrowed as she looked in the man's direction. "Well, I'm not," she said. "Your Dad and I are just friends."

A strange look crossed Carl's face that almost resembled disappointment. Michonne couldn't be quite sure because the look was gone just as quickly as it appeared. "Okay." He wore a neutral expression. "I'm gonna go find Sophia. Maybe she wants to learn to fish too."

"See you later," she called as he dashed away. She looked back to where Shane was standing outside the open trunk of his car sifting through the contents once again. She slowly made her way toward the detached unfriendly man.

"What the hell is your problem?"

Shane's movement froze, but his back remained turned to her. "Can I help you?" His tone was less than friendly.

"Yes," she answered, crossing her arms. "You can start by letting me know what your problem with me is."

He dropped the bag that was in his hand back into the trunk, whirling around to face her. "I didn't know I had one." He put his hands on his hips and took a small step in her direction. "Who do you think you are huh?" His eyes burned with fury. "You think because Rick walks around acting like he's in change, you're some kind of first lady?"

"What?"

"You're nothing new, you know that right?" he sneered. "This is how he is. You're just a shiny new toy. You don't get to come in and play Lori's role. Yes Lori. Carl had a Momma. Apparently I'm the only one 'round here that remembers her."

Michonne grimaced, taken aback by the implications in his words. She glowered at him, anger and slight embarrassment boiling within her.

"It's cool though," he said, throwing his hands up in surrender. He backed away from her, grabbing his shotgun from where it rested against the car. "I'm cool. No problems from this guy. I'm just trying to mind my own business and survive this shit."

Shane slammed the trunk shut and stalked into the woods with his gun in hand while Michonne watched him with a multitude of conflicting feelings. It was obvious that her friendship with Rick bothered Shane and those troubling feelings he harbored were directly tied with him and Rick's relationship with Lori, the ex-wife. A part of her understood where his apprehension was coming from. Not knowing whether your friends and family were dead or alive is very painful and difficult to process. At the same time she realized that Shane was instigating unnecessary drama that she did not intend to deal with.

~TNB~

Four and a half weeks passed them on the mountain before they encountered other survivors. It happened on an afternoon when Rick had gone into the woods to check on their animal traps. Michonne tagged along with him for company. During their time on the mountain, the river proved to be an excellent source for fish and frogs, however they were running low on the food items they packed and people were growing tired of fish.

"Is it me or is Shane still acting really pissy?"

"He is. It's not just you," Rick sighed, rubbing his face. "I have a few ideas as to why that is. I still can't believe he said that to you. You have nothing to do with whatever's botherin' him. I doesn't help that we're all stuck up here."

"Yeah." Her mind drifted to their encounter weeks before. As the time passed it seemed as if his problem was a little more personal than worrying about Lori. She spent a great deal of time thinking about his words before deciding that it really wasn't worth it to obsess about his judgments and put too much stock in his harsh words. "We've been on this mountain for over a month and he's been cool for the most part, but it feels like he's been getting angrier lately."

He offered her a small smile as he lightly nudged her shoulder. "I'll talk to him."

Michonne and Rick had been almost inseparable while on the mountain. They gravitated to each other and genuinely enjoyed each other's company. She was happy that she had him as a friend in this strange world. They walked in comfortable silence as Rick approached the first trap, which was empty. "How does that work?"

Rick playfully raised his brow. "Not an expert on traps? Color me surprised Miss World Traveler. I expected more."

"I told you I wasn't good at everything. I'm a fast learner though." She crouched down beside him, meeting his piercing blue eyes. "Teach me."

His lips formed into a small, amused smile as he looked down at the trap. "It's a simple bait stick snare," he explained. "You have your bait, the noose, a forked stake and the spring pole." He lightly tugged on the rope, which was tied into the shape of a small noose. "When the trap gets triggered, it springs and fires like this and we get our dinner."

"Not from this one though." Her stomach rumbled, reminding her of the breakfast she missed. She never believed she would miss massive breakfasts with eggs and bacon and pancakes as much as she did in that moment.

"Nope." He stood, brushing off his pants. "Come on, we'll check out the others to see if we have a catch from there. If not, we'll always have trout."

"Do you really think they're okay though?" she asked as they sought out the next trap. He understood what she meant without her specifying.

"I still have hope. It's been a month. Carl asks about his mother quite a bit. He worries and he's scared," he explained. "I worry too. I keep praying that she made it out somehow. My ex-wife and I may not have been in love at the end of the day, but it still hurts to even think that she may not have survived this. Contrary to what Shane believes."

Michonne nodded sympathetically. It really was something that was difficult to process. Especially due to the fact that she hadn't seen a walker since the day they fled from the highway. It made their situation even more surreal. She was thankful that they were relatively safe on the mountain, however she was still having difficulty with not knowing if her sister's bus ever made it to the military refugee camp. She was plagued with nightmares of Sasha and her family trapped in their bus in the middle of a walker-filled highway.

"Oh I meant to tell you," Rick said suddenly. "I was talking with Glenn and Morgan about that the other night. A small group of us are thinking about trying to head down to Atlanta again to see what's going on. We're planning out a route. Even if we don't find what were looking for…we'll still need supplies, you know?" The implication that the city might be gone wasn't lost on Michonne.

She didn't need to think twice about how she felt about the trip. "I want to come too."

He shot her an incredulous look. "Are you sure about that?"

"Completely."

"I know you're struggling with this," he said softly. "We all are. It's difficult not knowing. Especially with the nightmares." She knew he must have heard her on some especially terrible nights. "I hate not knowing what's happening. I also hate that I'd be leaving Carl alone if I decide to go."

Michonne felt the tightness in her throat as images of Sasha and her parents invaded her mind. "I moved to King County to run from my problems. Get a fresh start. I haven't spoken to my mother in almost a year." She folded her arms as she tried to steady her breathing. "I was so…angry, but now it doesn't matter anymore, you know? I've lost so much. It hurts not knowing because I love my Mom so much. She was the best mother she could be and I may have lost her too."

His arms encircled her, pulling her body against his. She didn't realize that tears were escaping her eyes until she leaned her head against his chest, allowing the wetness to accumulate on his shirt. "It's driving me crazy," she gasped out as memories of the little boy named Andre filled her mind.

"It's okay," Rick said, rubbing her back. "We'll figure it out."

She laughed humorlessly, lifting her head to meet his eyes. His arms brought her unbelievable comfort. "I'm so sorry for piling this on you." She tried to step out of his embrace, feeling very embarrassed, but he didn't let go. "I'm not usually like this with people at all."

"I don't mind," he assured her. "It's good to let things out. I've been told that I keep things in and don't talk enough.""

"Same." She gave him a teary smile. "Thank you."

"For what?" His eyes drifted over her face, lingering on her lips. Michonne understood that look and it wasn't the first time he had it. Her breath caught in anticipation, wondering if this would be the point where he went beyond longing looks. In that moment, she was almost positive that their lips would finally meet.

A loud whistling broke them out of their sensual staring contest. They whirled in the direction of the noise to find two men standing a few yards away. One of the men held a large crossbow while the other larger man held a rifle over his shoulder.

"Well hello there," the larger man said in a raspy voice. "What do we have here?"

Rick took a step forward, partially shielding Michonne as his hand twitched toward his colt python. Something about the men, particularly the larger one, made him uneasy. "Can we help you?"

"Can you help us?" The man laughed, rubbing his stubbly face. "I don't know. Depends on what you offerin'." His eyes raked over Michonne's body in a predatory manner. "We'll take any help we can get."

"We're tryin' to escape those dead things," the man with the crossbow piped in, casting a wary look at the larger man. "I guess y'all are doin' the same."

"Oh right!" The larger man guffawed. "Where are our manners, baby brother?" He shot an insincere grin at Rick. "I'm Merle and this is my brother Daryl. We're kinda like survivalists. Very in tune with nature and all that mumbo jumbo. Rednecks to the core." He sounded as if he were pitching tagline ideas. "We can help you out in this wilderness. Right Daryl?"

"Right."

Rick appraised the two men wearily. "I'm Rick Grimes." He glanced at Michonne over his shoulder. "This is Michonne."

"Hmm." Merle stroked his chin before opening his mouth as if to say something. He chuckled and shook his head. "I'll keep that one to myself for now." He mumbled something that sounded like 'liberal type'.

"Y'all camped out 'round here?" Daryl asked, his eyes moving around the woods as if he expected to see a tent or shelter he missed before.

"Yes. There's a group of us here."

Merle's eyes twinkled with mirth. "If it ain't a bother, we'd really appreciate it if you let us rest with you." He looked to his younger brother. "We been walkin' for days. And like I said, we can help you out however we can. People out here eatin' each other like savages. We gotta stick with the good type of people." His eyes drifted to something to the side. "We'd make some traps that actually work too."

Rick and Michonne exchanged an uneasy look. They could see the distrust in each other's eyes, but at the same time they both knew they had to tread carefully. "It's no bother." He looked back to the two men, his expression resolute. "We just need to set a few ground rules first. I'm sure you understand."


A/N: What do you think? Enjoyed it? Bored with it? Let me know in the reviews.

Thanks for the wonderful responses to the last chapter!