"So, how is it that you know this woman?"

Rick paused in his rather Herculean effort of ridding himself of the thick bristles he allowed to accumulate the last few days to glance at Michonne in the oval-shaped mirror. One dark brow tilted in silent question. Not that he didn't already know who she was asking about. I swear I mentioned traveling with Raya while we were making our way to Hilltop with Glenn and Abraham's bodies...

Admittedly, things got a little fuzzy after Negan and that asshole, Simon left. The last thing he recalled with any clear detail was surging to his feet and grabbing Raya in a hard, desperate embrace. Maybe he hadn't told Michonne about traveling with her. I should have talked to her about Raya before we got some sleep. He hid a grimace by swiping the razor over his right cheek. Told her, she'd be coming by once she found out where Daryl got taken.

Finding Raya making breakfast must have come as a helluva shock to her. To Michonne's credit, she waited until they were alone before asking about her. Talking just wasn't his strong suit. Never had been and he much doubted it ever would be. Talking was what caused the breakdown of his marriage.

'You aren't a bullshitter.' That was what Raya said to him the night before she packed her two kids and that abnormal dog of theirs into the Bronco she proliferated and left him. 'You aren't a bullshitter. That's why you and your wife fought so much. You aren't a bullshitter and she isn't a listener.'

He denied it, of course. The fault for the problems in their marriage was his. Hadn't Lori said as much when she would speak to him? Hadn't she accused him of not caring enough about her and Carl, by giving up on their marriage because he wanted out but didn't have the guts to simply say so?

Raya had been right. Lori hadn't been much of a listener. And I wasn't much of a talker. He always planned to make things right with Lori. He just didn't know how. Then she died giving birth to Judith and the opportunity to fix things was lost forever. That's why he couldn't bullshit Michonne. Not now. Not after everything they had gone through — with the Governor, Terminus, McGrady, the Wolves, Negan — and would go through if Raya was correct about the Joker coming after them.

"Rick, I'm waiting for an answer."

The edge to her tone warned him that trouble lay ahead if he tried to evade any of her questions or was less than completely honest with her. Rick struggled with what to say as he swiped off more whiskers. There was only so much truth he could give her. Especially since I don't know everything myself. He rinsed the razor off in the murky, foamy water pooled in the sink basin and lightly tapped it on the edge to clear off the shaving cream and any bristles caught between the blades.

"You want to know about Raya?"

"Yes, I want to know about her." She folded her arms across her chest and pinned him with a look that made him want to squirm. "Who else do you think I want to know about?"

"I was just making sure you meant her." She gave him a look that said she didn't believe him. "What?"

"Who is she? How do you know her? Why is she here?"

Her suspicion twisted his belly into a knot. Lori accused him of withholding things. Of not telling her everything that happened after he woke up and left the hospital. He hadn't lied to her. He told her about Morgan. About Raya. Traveling with her until they got separated. I didn't keep anything from her. There wasn't anything for him to withhold. Nothing between him and Raya extended beyond the scope of friendship. Even that dance, we shared in the kitchen of that farmhouse wasn't anything more than two friends taking and giving comfort to the other.

That memory, along with his son and daughter and Michonne, helped him when he found himself at his lowest. They reminded him of why he kept fighting. Why he couldn't give up. Everything he did was for his family. For his friends. For a future for them all. He made a lotta mistakes along the way — Negan by far the largest — but his intentions had always been good.

"Rick?"

Rick ran the razor over his throat as he considered what he could tell Michonne that wouldn't creep too close to that line he didn't want to cross. Most everything he came up with was stuff he felt Raya should discuss. Like how she's a crime fighter from a city we all thought fictional. That she's been trained by a man we believed fake. That she goes by the name Fenix. That one of the men after her calls himself the Joker.

The last was the one he dreaded explaining the most. How do I tell her that a homicidal maniac in clown makeup wants to kill us just to get at Raya and her family? He got a moment's reprieve when the blade nicked his throat. He hissed out a curse and placed a finger on the cut to stem the blood.

"You okay?"

"Yeah... just cut myself is all."

"I thought you gave up shaving because you were tired of cutting yourself?"

"I did." His eyes met hers in the glass. "But someone downstairs said I looked like a mountain man." His lips curved at the corners. "Even suggested I smelled like one."

"Well." There was amusement in her voice, on her face. "I'd have said mule myself."

He chuckled softly. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." She sobered. "Now, tell me about her."

Raya encouraged me to tell Lori about her, he recalled as he searched for what to say that wouldn't give away too much. Said I needed to be up front and honest with her so that we could start over with no secrets between us. Lori reacted as badly as he predicted she would. Accused me of betraying our vows. Which was rich given how she screwed around with Shane.

Michonne wasn't like that. She'll accept I met Raya while looking for Carl. We traveled together. Became friends.

"What is it you want to know?" He lifted his finger to check his throat, smearing the dollop of red that bubbled out of the small nick despite his attempt to staunch it. "General things?"

"How about we start with something simple." Michonne leaned against the door jamb. "Where did you meet her?"

Well, he thought as he picked up the razor from where he dropped it after cutting himself. I can at least start off with the truth.

"Georgia." He dunked the razor into the water and swished it around. He tapped it on the side of the basin before swiping it across his left cheek. "Was a few miles outside of where I worked as a deputy."

"Okay..." She slowly digested that as he scraped off the whiskers under his chin. "Was it in the hospital or after you left it?"

Another truth, he could tell.

"After." God, it seemed like a lifetime had gone by since he woke up, alone, and unaware of the nightmare waiting outside his hospital room. "She found me in the back of a car I had decided to camp in after my police cruiser ran outta gas."

"You traveled together then?"

"We did for about a week, yeah."

"Just you, her, and that big dog of hers?" Her eyes narrowed as she watched him. Gauging his honesty like any well-trained and seasoned attorney would. "Nobody else was traveling with you?"

This was that murky ground he feared walking on. The line between truth and lie became very thin. He had to figure out what to say that said enough to satisfy her without breaking Raya's confidence. Not telling her about Raya's son and daughter wasn't a lie so much as it was just an omission of details not relevant to the situation. That's what he was telling himself, anyway.

"It was her, me, and that dopey white dog of hers."

Keeping Michonne in the dark about Rose and Christopher was the only way to keep her safe. If Slade Wilson came to Alexandria, if he captured them, he'd interrogate them. Raya hadn't told him much about the man, but what little she had let slip convinced him that Negan was a walk in the park compared to Slade Wilson. Negan tortured them by playing cruel psychological games meant to break them down and make them compliant to his demands.

He suspected Wilson would just torture them until they either told him everything he wanted to know, or they ended up dead. The only one he's gonna torture for information is me, he decided, jaw clenching. It's what I deserve after what happened to Glenn and Abraham.

It was also bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit.

The truth was he wanted to shelter and protect Christopher and Rose in the same way he did Carl and Judith. Neither teen had ever had a father in their life. Christopher's father died before he was born and Rose's… Well, he only played daddy when it suited him.

Slade Wilson put himself ahead of his daughter. And that is not how being a parent works. Kids were not toys that parents could take out and play with when the mood strikes them. Being a parent was a full-time job. There were no days off, no calling in sick, no overtime pay. Everything you do, you do for them.

Raya put her children before herself. She moved them to Georgia to give them stability, security, and safety. She chose to set aside the costumed vigilante so she could devote her time to them. To raise them. To see them grow up in an environment that didn't include assassins, homicidal clowns or ruthless billionaires who wanted to use her son to create an army of supermen. She still trained them, he mused. Still taught them everything Batman taught her. Prepared them for the world. Almost as if she knew this was gonna happen.

That was ridiculous, though. Nobody could have predicted this was gonna happen. How could they? Raya had proven she was a lot more adept at surviving this world than he believed when they were together. She possessed the sort of stealth and cunning he had only seen in people specially trained for performing those sorts of maneuvers. Then again, he thought as he scraped off another layer of whiskers. Raya isn't an ordinary woman.

The men who raised her, the cop and the vigilante didn't teach her to accept being ordinary. They taught her how to rise above, to stand tall, and to work hard. He became a cop because he wanted to do good. To help people. To protect them. Raya put on a mask and took to the streets to do the same thing. Only, she got what he so often couldn't: justice. She wasn't indestructible, though. This world and men like Lex Luther, Slade Wilson, and the Joker had taken a toll on her.

He could see the frown lines and bits of silver in that wildly curling halo that framed her face. She was also thinner than he remembered. She tends to skip eating when she's worried about something. She needed someone to help take some of the pressure off her. Someone who could help with the worst of whatever might come next. Someone who could handle what this Joker might do next. As much as I hate to admit it… Negan is the one most capable of the job.

"Why is she here?"

And there was another question he had dreaded her asking. It wasn't one he could answer. Not without giving away her private identity or going into the other topic he wanted to avoid: Negan. He just had to hope she'd forgive him once the full truth came out.

"She's here to help us."

"Help us?" And there was the other set of questions he wanted to avoid. "How?"

Rick finished scraping off the last of his whiskers as he considered how to reply. "You will have to ask her that."

"Why can't you tell me?"

That he could answer honestly. "I don't know how she plans to help us." He looked over his face to make sure he hadn't missed any whiskers before grabbing the towel on the edge of the sink. "We didn't get a chance to talk about how she plans to help us."

"Why not?"

"You saw the smoke in the distance?" He saw her nod. "It's coming from Negan's compound." He held up a hand to stop her from asking the question already forming on her lips. "Raya confirmed it as we were talking with one of Negan's men."

"One of Negan's men was here?"

Shit, said too much. Well, there was no going back now. In for a penny, in for a pound. The best he could hope for was that she wouldn't wallop him.

"Yeah, uh, one of his men, Dwight he said his name was, was here."

She straightened. "Dwight? The one who shot Daryl and took his crossbow?" Shock and dismay washed over her face at his nod. "He was here?"

Back to treading water again, he thought, grimacing. Part of him felt like the harder he tried to keep his head above water the more difficult it became to stay afloat. I can't break that trust, though. I just can't.

"Yeah." He prepared himself for his impending clobbering. "He was here."

"Why?" she demanded. "Why was he here?"

"To tell Raya that she needed to stay here because a man looking for her was at the Sanctuary."

"A man?" Suspicion darkened her tone. "What man? And why's he looking for her?"

He rinsed the razor in the sink while he debated how best to answer. Truth is the best here, he decided. "His name is Slade Wilson." He set the razor in the medicine cabinet and shut the door before turning towards her. "And that is all I can tell you about him."

"You can't tell me why he's looking for her?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because." He made a face. "Because it's something she should explain really, not me."

"I see."

Rick had anticipated that she wouldn't be overly pleased by his saying she needed to ask Raya about Slade Wilson. He just didn't have any other choice. A promise is a promise.

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine."

It was anything but fine and Rick knew it. There was nothing he could do about it, though.

"Mich-"

"Can you at least tell me how she got in when I left word with Aaron that nobody was to be let in without your permission?"

"She didn't come in through the front gate."

She stared at him incredulously. "And you don't think that a bit strange?"

"No." His brow puckered. "Why would I?"

Her sigh told him she thought he only had one oar in the water. And since I often act crazier than a sprayed roach...

"Rick," she began in a calm and reasonable voice. "I understand that you trust this woman…"

"With my life." He fought to keep from snapping the words at her. "With yours, Carl and Judith's lives. With the lives of everyone here."

"I wouldn't be so quick to trust her." She glanced over her shoulder when Krypto's bark was followed by Judith laughing. "You know as well as I do that this world changes people." She moved to him and set a hand on his arm. "Who she used to be might not be who she is now."

"No." He shook his head. "This world hasn't changed her."

"How can you be sure? You haven't seen her in almost three years."

"I know the sort of woman she is." He grabbed a towel off the rack and scrubbed it over his face and the back of his neck. "I guarantee this world hasn't changed her."

Not like it changed me. He didn't say that aloud. There was no need to. Michonne knew how much this world had changed him.

"What I'm finding strange is that one of Negan's men came here to warn her." Her head turned to one side as she studied him. Gauging his reaction. "Why do you think he did that?"

"She has an agreement with Negan." Another partial truth. "She provides therapy for those who want it or need it."

And helps bring raping scumbags to justice. He didn't add that, though. It trod too close to the Batman topic he was trying to stay away from.

"Maybe she's a spy."

"She's not a spy."

Not for him, anyway. He couldn't tell her that she was an agent for a man gracing the pages of the comics in Carl's room. He didn't have a clue where to begin that particular tale. No, Batman, this Joker fella, Slade Wilson, and anything else regarding her private identity needed to come from one person: Raya.

"Have you considered that she might be one of the women that Paul says he keeps at his Sanctuary?"

He said, "She isn't," even as he thought, she is the woman at his Sanctuary. Raya was Negan's right hand. There was no doubt in his mind about that. Simon might be his second-in-command, but Raya is his co-leader. Much like Michonne is mine.

"How do you know?"

"Raya's not the kind of woman who'd allow herself to be kept." A wry grin tugged at his lips. "She'd beat the shit out of any man who tried to keep her."

Like you, he added silently.

"Who is she, Rick?" She shook her head. "Who is she really?"

"I told you..."

"Yes, you told me she helped you after you left the hospital." She shook her head. "But I don't believe that's all it was."

"Well, no…"

"She's more than some stranger who stopped to help you."

"She's my friend." That much was the truth. Raya was his friend. "One who was there when I needed her the most. She helped me look for Carl."

Until men showed up at that farmhouse and spooked her. Luthor's men caused her to run as far as she could because she feared the baddest of the bad showing up and hurting me.

"And?"

"And she's trusted me with things that I can't reveal to you or anyone." He gazed at her beseechingly. "Please understand."

"I'm try-"

"I can't fail her." The words came tumbling out before he could stop them. "Not like I've failed everyone else."

Her face softened as those damning words hung in the air between them.

"You didn't fail anyone, Rick." She moved to him and took his hand. "You didn't fail anyone."

"I got Glenn and Abraham killed." He blinked away the tears, hating them and himself for them. "I'm to blame. Me. Had I not been so goddamn..."

She silenced him with a kiss.

"We all have to shoulder a share of the blame for what happened to Glenn and Abraham."

"If I hadn't led you all to that supply depot…"

"Who says he wouldn't have come after us eventually?" She stroked a hand over his cheek. "Even if we hadn't attacked his supply depot, we still killed his men. He'd have wanted revenge for them."

Logic. It was something Raya and Michonne both tended to wield at exactly the moment it was most needed.

"I don't want to lose you or Carl or Judith." All the fear, guilt, grief, anger and sorrow he had tried his best to keep locked away leaked into his voice. "I can't. I just can't."

"You won't lose us," she vowed softly. "We will find a way to survive this. I promise you that."

"Not alone." He shook his head. "We can't fight this alone. We need her. I know you don't believe me…"

"I do," she interjected firmly. "I do believe you."

"Give her a chance to explain," he begged. "You'll see then that you can trust her."

"I will," she promised as she laid her forehead against his. "I will."

A/N: Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!