Chapter 11: Requests

The mood of the group wavered from despondent to desperate. Carol seemed angry and cold, Glenn looked incredibly tired, Daryl was agitated and Hershel tried to exude calm in the midst of a rapidly declining situation. Michonne remained a static fixture set off from the group, taking it all in.

Hershel hadn't been thrilled to see her at the meeting but it was necessary. With the health and safety of the prison group deteriorating, they had to plan for the worst. The facts were that she'd been away for over a week and had spent much of the previous day on the run; although she'd been with Daryl throughout the night, she'd avoided the outbreak in D Block and hadn't really eaten much of anything that came from the prison's rations. As the least exposed, it was important that Michonne understand what they were up against and what needed to be done if that worst case scenario came to pass. When Glenn had come to fetch her, they'd had a moment of levity about how this is one occasion Daryl would be glad she'd spent so much time away from the prison.

And after her emotional breakdown earlier, this is what she needed: to be on the front line doing something rather than sitting around obsessing over things she will never be able to change.

She listened as Daryl relayed what they found with Karen and David. Michonne was horrified to hear it and, having seen Tyreese right afterwards, she shared the Council's concern for any stability while the perpetrator was at large. On the one hand, she could understand the rationale of what had been done but that didn't justify it as the right call.

One emergency at a time though.

She flicked her eyes over at Daryl again. Throughout the meeting he tried to keep his cool even though he was pissed about the murders and worried about the consequences of all that had gone down. He'd also been surprised to see her with the Council yet he'd quickly gotten over that to instead dwell on her being up and about on an injured ankle. At his silent question she'd shrugged. The status of her mildly tweaked ankle had to surely be the least of his annoyances.

From what Hershel was saying, the bottom line was that they needed medication as soon as possible. Nothing they had on-site would address the rampant disease spreading throughout their home, especially when they had no means of pinpointing the exact cause or any kind of cure.

Daryl beat her to the point that the two of them had scoured all the pharmacies in the area long ago and brought back every possible item and medication that could prove valuable. There wasn't any place left to look. That had been in those first months after the showdown with the Governor. She and Daryl had still been wary of each other then but were united in their keen survival skills and their shared quest to locate the madman's whereabouts. Those trips were where they learned what a formidable team they made. Once they'd gotten close, those early runs were also a way to spend time together without worrying about who'd come wandering by to interrupt.

Resourceful as always, it sounded like Hershel had a good plan in mind to tap a hidden source: the veterinarian college at Peachtree Tech. She'd skirted that area a couple months back; there'd been a fair amount of walker activity but nothing overwhelming, although that didn't mean much since things could change overnight when it came to undead activity in these parts. And as soon as Hershel started talking about medicines and symptom management, she knew there'd have to be a run and she knew she'd be a part of it.

Sure enough, after Hershel's suggestion, Daryl picked right up on how it needed to go down. "Peachtree Tech? That's fifty miles. Too big a risk before. Aint now. I'm 'a take a group out." He rose from the table seemingly ready to hit the road right that second.

Michonne pushed off the bookcase on which she'd been leaning. "I'm in." She really hoped he wouldn't argue too much. Again, she was the most logical choice, even slightly injured. Surprisingly, it was Hershel who interjected with a protest.

"You haven't been exposed, Michonne. Daryl has. You get in a car with him …"

She smirked at her older friend. "He's already given me fleas," she joked. Hershel grinned at her humor, always one for lightening a situation when he could.

"Gross." Glenn said and he really did look like he might hurl at the idea.

"You sure aint one to talk," Daryl said to Glenn. "And you," he added, pointing to Michonne. "I aint never heard no complaints when I been up on ya." Michonne didn't want to give him the satisfaction of agreeing with his counterpoint. He turned to Hershel. "I aint crazy 'bout infectin' Michonne. The point we're at though? We gotta risk it. Aint too many folks can go on a run like this and if we get them drugs, it won't matter no way if we get sick."

Michonne couldn't hide her surprise. Only a few hours ago they'd fought about the parameters of her leaving the prison and the risks to her well-being—and Daryl's. She smiled at him. Maybe their talk had brought them to a place where they could be more open and accepting of each other's intentions about doing what had to be done. He nodded to her, acknowledging this unfamiliar acceptance.

Hershel considered the both of them and satisfied with what he saw, he rose from the table as well. "Even so, I advise you to keep your distance. No unnecessary additional exposure." Translation: no making out. "I can lead the way. I know where everything's kept. And I can serve as a chaperone, if necessary," he joked, grinning at her.

Michonne returned his humor. Bless Hershel for doing his best to keep their spirits up.

But Daryl tensed and turned nervously to Carol. He clearly didn't want to hurt the older man's feelings but Michonne could already tell that there was no way he'd be hitching a ride on this run.

"When we're out there, it's always the same. Sooner or later, we run."

The response to this from Hershel suggested that in his enthusiasm to make things better, he'd overestimated what role he could play in the next phase of the plan. Even now with the passage of time and his greater mobility with the prosthetic leg, it was difficult for him to let go of his past efficiency and the things he could do before.

"I can draw you a map." Instead of dwelling on his limitations, Hershel moved on to addressing the issue of quarantining the most vulnerable in the administration building. That included the very young and, as Glenn astutely noted, the old.

In that moment, Michonne got a good luck at Glenn, exhaustion and defeat coming off him in waves. She could see how much it hurt him to be another person to slow Hershel down. The man had been the voice of reason and logic throughout this ordeal, hell, for as long as she had known him. Glenn was like a son to him and it was painful watching the two men share the weight of how severely this plague impacted their lives. In fact, Glenn was taking this entire situation pretty hard. For the first time, she considered how truly young he was to be dealing with such heavy responsibilities. He'd been mostly quiet throughout the entire meeting and he looked, for lack of a better description, utterly stricken. In the back of her mind, she wondered if maybe the sickness had gotten hold of him too but surely he'd be the first one to quarantine himself in that case, just like Sasha had.

Turning her attention back to Hershel, she saw that he had accepted his circumstances like a champ because he knew it was futile to fight the inevitable.

Out in the corridor, Carol and Glenn followed Daryl down the hallway leading to the yard. Michonne turned the opposite way to walk partway with Hershel back to Cell Block A so he could fill Doctor S. in on their latest plans. Before leaving the area, she motioned to Daryl that she was going to gather their usual supplies and he nodded in understanding. It was a comfort to have one thing they didn't need to think too hard about; they had a routine down cold when it came to going on small runs.

So the next twenty minutes were spent checking the various stashes around the prison ground for transport weapons, ammunition, food, first aid supplies and bags to store whatever they grabbed from the school.

Supplies gathered, she found him out front with Zach's car, checking it over for his usual pre-run tune up. He was inspecting the tires when she walked up and barely glanced at her as she loaded the consolidated supplies into the back seat. Moving up to the front of car, he stared at her ankle as he passed but didn't comment. As she left to go around the side and pick out a couple of spare guns, she saw him take his vest off and reach for the car's hood.

Daryl was still tinkering in the engine when she returned with a couple of shotguns. She stowed them in the back seat along with the rest of their gear and wandered over to check on his progress.

"Sum'bitch is about a quart low," he muttered removing the dipstick from the engine.

"Bottom of Tower 3 right?"

He rolled his eyes. "Not no more since me and Glenn cleaned house on the supply stock. Figures that you forgot seein' as how you didn't lift a finger movin' all that shit around to Tower 2. That run you and Sasha and Maggie did was real convenient."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said, feigning ignorance. "Tower 2 it is. I'll go get one," she offered, dusting off her hands.

"Hey." She turned, wondering what else he might need from her errand. "How's that ankle?" he finally worked up the nerve to ask.

She smirked. "Don't worry, I won't be slowing you down if it comes to that."

"That aint what what worries me and you know it." He paused in his work, expecting her full attention and a straight answer to his question.

Sighing she walked back towards him, careful but without a limp. "It's not perfect but it'll hold up just fine. I didn't sprain it and Beth wrapped it up tight." She looked him in the eye. "I'm good." She wouldn't lie to him about something like that. It could get one or both of them killed.

"And the other stuff?"

She sensed his discomfort at specifically referencing her breakdown but it had to be on his mind. A couple of hours ago, she'd been a legitimate mess. How to answer that though? The problem was that she was never going to be alright; she'd always find herself coping with that missing part of her life. She leaned against the hood of the car as she pondered the question.

"There's not much I can do about that except keep trying to accept it." She shrugged. "It feels better to be doing something though."

Michonne looked around and caught Carol out in the distance with Rick trying to gather more water from a pump connected to the small stream outside. At the entrance to the building, Beth was carrying a load of supplies needed to care for Baby Judith while they were in quarantine.

She had lost so much but there was also a lot to hold dear here too. She guessed that's one of the things Daryl was always trying to prove to her.

"Alright then," he accepted going back to his work. "I'm glad you're here. Don't want it to seem like I aint. This virus and that shit with Karen and David's got me shook up is all."

"Understandable. Where else would I be when you guys really need me?"

Daryl leaned into the engine. "I know I sometimes say you're runnin' off. It's what it feels like at times." There was no anger to his words. He wasn't trying to pick a fight, only unpack the frustrations that had accumulated over the last couple of hours. And she realized she shouldn't have opened that door to this discussion with her offhand comment.

"But you know I'm not runnin' off?" she clarified, making sure they weren't revisiting that particular fight twice in one day.

Finally looking up at her, Daryl nodded, conciliatory yet direct. He didn't want to start anything again but the issue always hung between them. It was only a matter of when it would come up and how. Wiping is hands on his pants, he took the few steps toward her to stand next to her and lean against the car.

"Thought about what you said earlier, 'bout tellin' you what I need from ya. I don't have to think on it. We done already gone round and round too many times 'bout where you go when you leave here and for what and for how long. I know I gotta ease up on some stuff. But if we gon' do this, me and you?"

He paused as if to make sure he really wanted to put his next words out there where he couldn't take them back.

"If we gon' do this I want ya to quit lookin' for the Governor. You should do what you gotta when it comes to runs and killin' walkers and keepin' us safe. But no Macon. No traipsin' off for a week huntin' that bastard and no scoutin' out places to track down a damn ghost when you're with us. Focus on what we got here once and for all. Let it go, Michonne."

Michonne tensed, fighting the urge to pop off the automatic objection sitting at the tip of her tongue. She pursed her lips and looked away from him for a moment. Her eyes landed on the graveyard out in the distance, half dug and abandoned to other more pressing problems. The walkers at the fence continued to claw and growl. When she turned back to Daryl, his gaze on her was steady. Calm. There was no sense of embarrassment at discussing his feelings or apprehension about how she'd take the request. She realized he was serious and wouldn't be backing down on this.

What did she expect? She'd asked him what he needed and he'd just told her point blank. For that, she could at least refrain from lashing out. And, damn him, it was as if he picked up on her entire internal conversation as he nodded to her and went back to tinkering with the engine, not bothered by her silence in the least.

"I want ya to think about it, just like ya told me. I aint sayin' we gon' call things off if ya say no but it's what I want and, in my mind, it aint too much to ask."

Michonne crossed her arms and leaned against the car where he'd stood moments before. Her obsession with finding the Governor and making him pay was the main thing—one of the only things—they fought about. She bristled at his notion that it wasn't much to ask. That was the understatement of the year as far as she was concerned. Yet it was difficult for her to explain, even to herself, why letting go felt so unthinkable.

They had other concerns, though, and while they were dealing with them, she would consider how she'd respond to his request.

She watched him play around in the engine for a second; she'd noticed early on that he was quite handy around a car. It relaxed her to appreciate how confident and efficient he appeared carrying out these tasks with which he was so familiar.

"So it's just gonna be me and you like in the old days?" she asked with a bit of humor.

He looked up at her, a brightness in his eyes at recognizing how loaded that question was. It again elicited a variety of memories like climbing trees and hatchbacks and early morning hunts.

"Yeah." He flashed her a grin, letting her know he'd conjured up some of the same images. "And Bob. So kinda like the old days, anyway." His grin transformed into a full-blown smile at her pouty reaction. Neither truly thought this trip would have the ease of their others given the stakes and the challenge of getting there and back as quick as possible. But the promise of handling it together helped relieve some of that tension. "Still, feels like we could use another person."

Back to business, Michonne tried to think of another member of their community who was minimally exposed, not ailing and able to handle themselves well enough for a run of this nature. "Who else isn't sick?"

"We don't ask Rick. He wants to stay here with Carl and Lil Asskicker. Keep 'em safe. Plus, there's plenty 'a stuff he can do here."

"So who else we got?"

Daryl stepped back from the engine and put his hands on his hips. "I got my mind on somebody but aint no tellin' how good it's gon' go askin' for him."

"Tyreese," she guessed and he nodded."

"The man aint in his right mind for bein' so torn up 'bout Karen. I don't blame him but maybe this'll help take his thinkin' off it for a while, be a part 'a helpin' get Sasha better." He closed the hood of the car and grabbed his vest. "You go get that motor oil and I'll go talk to him about it."

"You need backup?" I saw what he did to Rick … and what Rick did to him. Damn."

"I know. It was fucked up, the both of 'em." He shook his head about it. "I got this though. 'Sides, I get why he's pissed so I can handle a little temper tantrum. But if he went crazy on ya, all bets are off."

"How noble." Michonne's wry response made it clear she thought his chivalry anything but. "It wouldn't matter because Tyreese wouldn't run up on me like that and if he did I could take him."

Daryl didn't respond, just shook his head again. "Well, it aint gon' come to that. I'll see to it." Putting his vest back on he walked around the car to where she stood and they both headed up the path. "Meet you back here in a few? I'll get that oil filled and then we can get our asses on the road."

"Sounds good. While you're changing the oil, I'll go get that map from Hershel." He put an arm around her waist and she pushed him away. "Speaking of the good Dr. Greene, how about you keep your hands to yourself. Hershel's orders."

He ignored her and pulled her to him again. "If it was a couple hours ago, I'd be fightin' myself to stay away. But Hershel aint here and if I'm gon' expose you to this flu bullshit anyway then I'm gon' have as much 'a you as I can in case somethin' happens."

Michonne pulled his arm tighter around her. "We'll do what needs to be done. Our friends need our help and we're on it. We're pretty unstoppable together."

She glanced up at him with so much confidence in their combined strength. He returned the gaze, kissing her briefly before they parted.

TBC …