It's going on 13 weeks now. Marissa is gettin' to a point where we're all afraid she's gonna sneak off and go back to Woodbury for her son. She'll get her fool self killed. Rick and Michonne are workin' on a plan, it ain't the best and we got a lotta kinks to work out; it's worth a shot. We gotta make the Governor believe Marissa's dead. He'll come after Michonne next. Michonne can take care of herself. Marissa needs lookin' after. While he's preoccupied with Michonne, Glenn is gonna get in and get outta Woodbury, hopefully with Grayson. Marissa thinks this is the stupidest damn thing she's ever heard. She's been avoidin' the group, 'specially me.
I walk into her cell, "Michonne found some cans of soup on a run today, if ya hungry."
She's layin' on her cot, lookin' at the ceilin'...too mad to look at me, "Okay."
"Marissa-" I rub a nervous hand 'cross the back of my neck and take a step forward.
"Just go." She don't even look at me.
"You're a part of this family now. We can't let ya run off. You still gotta lot to learn about survivin' out there," I say, tryin' to sound soft.
"I don't need to be watched, like I'm crazy or something. Everytime I turn around it's either you, or Rick, or Maggie, or somebody, watching me like I'm just going to run out into a field of walkers and-"
I interrupt her, "We don't think you're crazy, Marissa! But, your behavior since that night in the guard tower (which she claims not to remember)...you've just been...I dunno...cold. Distant. Nobody knows what to make of it. Most of 'em think you tried killin' ya'self that night." I cross my arms and lean against the cell door.
She scoffs, rolls over facin' the wall, "Just go."
"Fine then...be a hardhead, woman! Just so ya know, I've been the one defendin' ya...they do think you're a little fuckin' crazy!" I slam the cell door closed on my way out.
I go on a hunt. I needa clear my mind. That woman is just...messin' with my damn head. I don't know what to make of it.
I ain't never understood women. I ain't never had women for friends. I ain't never had no serious relationship. I ain't never had a 'not serious' relationship. I can barely remember my mama. Bein' around the women in the group is the closest I've ever been to the opposite sex.
I see a raccoon and aim for it. I miss it. Damn it. Now all these troubles in my damn head is effectin' my huntin'. I drop my crossbow to my side. I almost want to punch the fuck out of tree or somethin'.
I remember when Carol started hangin' around me all the time, I was damn near scared to death. Maybe I misread her, I remember the look in her eyes when I said, "I don't feel no romantic feelings for you." It was like she wasn't even that surprised. I dunno. When women get too close to me, it fuckin' scares the shit outta me. That night in the guard tower was the first time, the real first time I ever let a woman touch me while I was sober. It's the first semi-quasi sexual experience of my life that I can actually recall. I can remember how her touch felt, how her kiss tasted. I was too fuckin' scared of her to touch her back. She was too fuckin' drunk. She didn't really want me. She doesn't want me. I just needa get that through my thick skull. Daryl Dixon ain't boyfriend material.
I hunt for a few hours, and I only get 2 squirrels and a rabbit. Not my best. Like I said, my head's messed up. I needa stop worryin' about Marissa.
I stomp through the woods headin' back to the prison when I hear footsteps. Walkers. At least 2 or 3 of them. I run ahead a lil' ways and hide behind a tree. I stand there quietly and wait for the footsteps to get just a bit closer...
I launch out from the tree with my bow just a mere second away from shootin'.
"Please! No!" A frightened, young dark-skinned woman yells with her hands up. A tall, broad black fella accompanies her and I realize these are 2 of the people Rick ran off several weeks ago.
"Whatcha doin' headin' back towards our prison?" I say, crossbow still aimed.
"Just put that thing down, let's talk." The black man says coolly, his hands in the air.
"'Bout what?"
"We just escaped from Woodbury." The girl swallows hard, her eyes never leavin' my arrow.
"And?" I still don't lower my bow.
"We're lost. Been roaming out in these woods a few days looking for the prison. We were hoping your leader would give us another chance," the black man says, his eyes earnest.
"Why should we even give y'all benefit of the doubt?" I ask, slowly lowering my crossbow.
"The Governor...he killed a woman who helped us escape, Andrea. And a few other people who were close to him. He's a very dangerous man," the man says.
"Andrea?" I ask, my heart sinkin'.
"You knew her?" The girl asks, finally lookin' away from bow.
"Yeah. Rick'll want to hear about this." I say, my crossbow completely lowered.
"Rick, is that the leader?" the man asks.
"Yeah, I'm Daryl. Dixon."
The man offers me a shaky hand, "I'm Tyreese. This is Sasha."
"How the hell could you not tell us?" Rick demands, pacin' the cell block.
"How was I supposed to know she was part of this group? She said she was a part of a group. She never said any names or how many people..." Michonne, her eyes are fierce as ever, burnin' into Rick. She sits at the table, distant...until a small tear runs down her face.
"I think we just need to relax here," Hershel chimes in. "It's obvious Michonne didn't know or she would have told us."
"She was my friend," Michonne whispers. Michonne ain't never called any of us a 'friend.'
Rick, sits across from her at the table, his head in his hands.
"Um, guys? Not to get off subject... but what are we going to do about the two new visitors?" Glenn asks, referring to Tyreese and Sasha, who are currently locked in a cell until we finalize a decision.
Marissa sits back from the group, on the loft stairs, "I guess lock them in a cell and watch their every fucking move."
Carol, standin' in the loft, rolls her eyes, "Oh, good grief! Are you still in a sour mood!? We're just trying to keep you from getting killed."
"You're just trying to keep me from finding my son!" Marissa yells, standin' up and turnin' around to face Carol.
"Could everyone just calm down?" Hershel raises his voice. Hershel never raises his voice.
"Yes," Rick agrees. "Calm the fuck down, now. We are going to test these newcomers."
"How?" Michonne questions.
"They're going to get Glenn into Woodbury, in and out, safely. Save Grayson (his eyes burn right into Marissa). Me, Hershel, Michonne, Maggie, Carol, Beth, and Carl will stay here and defend the prison. The Governor is going to come for Marissa and Michonne first." Rick unfolds his plans.
"What 'bout me?" I ask. I ain't tryin' to brag, but...I'm sorta Rick's right hand man since Shane died.
"You are going to take Marissa and get out of here. She can't take care of herself. Too skittish with a gun," Rick looks at her standing on the stairs, her mouth agape. "I ain't trying to offend you, Marissa. But, you have never killed the living before. You have a hard time killing the dead as it is. Daryl can keep you safe."
"This is bullshit! It is my son! I should be here!" Marissa screams, her hands clenched into fists.
"You are too emotionally involved in this. I know from experience when you're emotions run high...you put not just yourself but everybody in danger. You will find a safe place to go. When this is over, we will send Glenn for you both." Rick's face is solemn.
"Rick, this ain't the best plan, man-" I start.
"You all look to me as your leader, I didn't ask for it! I'm looking out for everybody here!" Ricks eyes move from face to face, "If you don't like what rules I apply, then you leave. I'm doing what I think is best here. She's too emotionally involved. And since you feel such a need to protect her, you'd just get yourself killed if you stayed."
I pretend not to hear that last sentence.
"Where the hell we 'spose to go then?" I growl through a tight jaw.
"I think I know the perfect place," Michonne turns to look at me, a smile in her eyes.
