Michonne smelled the apples before she and Judith were halfway down the stairs. She covered her mouth, battling a new wave of nausea when her gaze fell upon the bowl of shiny red fruit on the coffee table. She rubbed her rounded stomach. With eight weeks of baking to go, this baby had developed an overnight aversion to her favorite fruit.

She continued down. The scent seemed to cover every inch of the house. If she didn't get some fresh air, projectile vomiting would be the newest skill Judith would be asking Mommy to show her how to do. A little stroll to Nora's to get her to take the apples to the pantry and open the windows to remove the scent sounded like a great way to start the day.

While the day had started hours ago for most of the community, of late Michonne was sleeping in and eating more. As the pregnancy progressed, the community had rallied even more around her. Smothering her with care and food, and insisting on taking care of her routine leadership tasks. That it's what Rick would've wanted from them.

While she appreciated their concern, she was quite capable of leading the community and taking care of this baby and a four-year-old. And unlike her fellow Alexandrians, Michonne knew Rick was coming back. The passage of time only strengthened her belief in that, and it was a comfort. And comfort is what she would continue to have once she got away from the offensive apple smell. She squeezed her daughter's hand. "Judith, sweetie, let's go for a little walk."

"Will the baby want pancakes when we get back, Mommy?"

"I think he will," Michonne answered with a smile, opening the front door. "And bacon, too." She had a craving for salt. Thinking of it seemed to ease the nausea.

Judith licked her licks. "Mmm."

"Yes, mmm."

Raised voices coming from the church propelled Michonne in that direction. It was just after eight and she didn't know of any planned meeting.

"Is it church day?" Judith asked.

"No, it's not," Michonne answered.

"Ain't no way!" Daryl raged. "This a bunch of bullshit, and she ain't goin'!"

Judith gasped as they continued walking. "Uncle Daryl said a bad word."

"Yes, he did," Michonne replied, becoming furious at the fact this meeting could anger him so, and many others as varying voices grew louder in concert, and she not be a part or aware of it.

"This is not a choice for you to make for her. None of you!" said a female voice, cutting through the noise. "She'll want to come with me."

More voices of descent erupted. Michonne walked through the double doors and all talking ceased. What appeared to be the eyes of every member of the community turned to her. Still holding Judith's hand, Michonne marched to the front of the church where Daryl stood brooding. "What is this, Daryl?" she asked. "Judith heard you swearing down the street. Why is a meeting going on here without -" Her words and steps stopped when she spotted a face that sent her spiraling back almost five years. "Dr. Stevens?"

"You remember me," she said with a smile.

"The doctor from Woodbury. Yeah, I remember you," Michonne said, taking the remaining steps that brought her between Daryl and the doctor. "You took care of Andrea. You were kind to us. I assumed you were dead."

"This one's bringing a lot of people from the dead," Daryl said, pointing over Michonne's shoulder.

Michonne turned in the direction of Daryl's finger and gasped. "Heath!"

"How are you, Michonne?" His gaze lowered to her stomach. "Besides the obvious."

"At the moment, I'm not sure. These blasts from the past are surprising."

Aaron rushed over from the leaders' table. "I think you need to sit down," he said.

"I'm okay, I'm just confused. What's going on here? What is this meeting? Reason suggests I'm the 'she' you all were shouting about."

The church grew even quieter, with no one attempting to respond. "Okay, what?" Michonne asked, becoming increasingly impatient with being out of the loop on something that involved her.

"You should let Jane take Judith." Aaron held up his prosthetic hand, getting the attention of the redhead who had been a primary sitter for Judith since their arrival at Alexandria. "She shouldn't be here for this."

"I promised her pancakes," Michonne said when Jane came up and reached for Judith's hand.

"And bacon," Judith added.

"I'll be sure she gets both," Jane said, stroking Judith's blonde hair. "Let's go to my house, okay?"

Judith nodded and the two departed.

Michonne accepted Aaron and Gabriel's assistance as she sat. "She's gone now. Will someone please explain why you're having a secret meeting about me, and what the doctor and Heath have to do with it?"

"Mrs. Grimes, I -"

"Don't!" Daryl shouted, interrupting Dr. Stevens.

"Let her talk!" Michonne fired back. The progressing pregnancy had made wearing the sword uncomfortable, and she rarely carried it on the grounds even before then, but if she had it, she'd be warning Daryl with it right now or threatening to cut out his tongue to keep him quiet like he usually was.

Daryl crossed his arms and grumbled under his breath.

"I had Heath bring me here for you," Dr. Stevens said. "It's about your husband."

Tears filled Michonne's eyes. "What?" she murmured.

"Don't listen, Michonne. She…"

"Daryl, please." Michonne rubbed her stomach, releasing a shaky sigh of a breath. She needed to hear from Dr. Stevens, to have the long-held belief she carried confirmed for all of them. "He's alive. That's what you're here to tell me, isn't it?"

"Yes."

Michonne released a breath. What felt like the weight of a boulder rolled from her shoulders. "I knew he was alive." Aaron wrapped his arm around her, offering support as her tears flowed. "I knew it."

"Back in March, my assistant and I found him severely injured on the bank of a river a few miles east of here. We saw smoke in the distance. We got him into our helicopter and we tended to him."

"I ain't buying this." Daryl grunted. "Why didn't you bring him home if you had a helicopter?"

"Because we didn't know what home was for him, or who he was, and he was in no condition to tell us," said Dr. Stevens, her annoyance at Daryl obvious. "We found a very hurt man and we were able to save his life."

"How - How is Rick?" Michonne asked, sniffling.

"All things considered, he is doing extremely well. Always asking for you." The doctor's face brightened. "Excited about the pregnancy. He's been experiencing sympathy pains."

"Really?" Michonne smiled. "We had just started trying when…"

"You have a strong connection, because he's known, insisted on it, for months. I thought it best he not travel, which is why I had Heath bring me here. I want to take you to him. He's on a navy ship, a floating hospital, just over a hundred miles from here."

"I've been at their community in Pennsylvania," Heath said. "They are good people. After I got separated from Tara, members of the group found me and saved me, right before a herd surrounded me. It's a wonderful place. I have a wife and little girl now. It was because of my job, flying supplies to different sites, that I saw Rick. Michonne, Dr. Stevens has taken really good care of him. We've only had a couple of visits, but he was bad off for a very long time."

"Heath, why didn't you come sooner and tell me?" Michonne asked. "You have access to a helicopter, right? I could've been with Rick. I could've helped him."

"It was my decision," said Dr. Stevens, "and I weighed it carefully. Your husband had a lot of recovering to do, and…" The doctor held her hands together. "I'll explain everything when we get to him. The chopper can get us there in about half an hour. Are there any restrictions with your pregnancy?"

"No, everything is going well. We should go."

Daryl groaned, annoyed. "You ain't buying this shit, are you, Michonne? She's from Woodbury," he said, flinging his hand in the doctor's direction.

"Heath's been gone so long, he could be in on it," Gabriel added. "They could be the ones who put a bullet through Anne's head."

Michonne rolled her eyes. She had no sympathy for 'Anne.' The woman's weird talk, going by the name Jadis, and propositioning Rick made her wholly untrustworthy. Not to mention her group's betrayal of them. Rick was good to offer her a chance in an attempt to fulfill Carl's wishes, but in Michonne's estimation, whoever killed her had done the world a favor.

"Dr. Stevens could be from the bowels of hell, but she's not lying about Rick, and Heath is validating her words," Michonne said. "He has no reason to lie."

"But, Michonne…"

"No, Gabriel. I never believed Rick was dead." She fingered the rings. "I told all of you that, but you pushed it aside. Thought I was lost in my grief, and, God, I was, but in missing him. That ache felt like a death to me, but I knew he was alive, because I felt him. I felt his heart beating with mine, and I still do. Judith and I are going, and no one is stopping me."

"Fine." Daryl shrugged. "Then, I'm comin' with you."

"Uh-uh."

"Michonne?"

"No!" She loved Daryl, and he was like a brother to Rick, but she couldn't forget he was the one who rode Rick in the opposite direction of Alexandria, leading him to blow up the bridge to stop that herd. She had forgiven Daryl and Maggie when they explained their plan. The desire to kill Negan was one she had lived with for a long time. But even as unintentional as it was, she hadn't forgotten their roles in why she lost Rick for so long, and doubted she ever would. "You're a loose cannon, Daryl, and I'm not risking it. You're staying right here."

He acknowledged her words with a little nod and dropped his head.

"You shouldn't go alone," said Gabriel.

"She won't," Aaron replied. "I'll go, too."

Michonne nodded and smiled. "Thank you, Aaron," she said, as he helped her to her feet. "As soon as I get Judith, we can leave."

Rick's ears rang. He couldn't have heard what he thought. There was just no… He shook his head. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You were bitten. You want to know why we're always watching you, that's why. You are a miracle, Mr. Grimes. Dr. Stevens believes the cure to the outbreak lies with you."

"Me?"

"You are still here. Not immortal, but also not affected by this virus."

"It wasn't a walker. It couldn't have been."

"Do you know someone who would bite your back right next to where you were impaled by rebar? You were chomped by one of the dead. It could've happened when you were plunged into the river, or it could've happened before. You said you'd been passing out and having visions after the initial injury, only to come to with walkers near. The bite could've happened then."

"How could I not feel being bitten?"

"There are a couple of ways. Your impalement had nerves severely inflamed, making you impervious to the pain of the bite. Your blood loss caused shock, that could've kept you from feeling it, too."

"I knew I was in bad shape, but so bad to not feel being bitten?" Rick dragged his hand over his face, sighing. A million scattered thoughts filled his head. "I can't – I can't believe this." He'd lost Carl to a walker bite. His son was gone. How could he still be around months later? "I need to see it."

"Pardon?"

"The way you people eyeball me, you can't tell me you didn't take pictures. Lemme see!"

Jonah opened a pocket inside the file and extended several instant photos. "Here you are."

Rick browsed through the photos, shaking his head. Teeth marks and a chunk of missing flesh presented from multiple angles told the tale. How could this be?

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions."

"I do." He held up the pictures. "Is this why I've been kept here? Why you wouldn't bring my wife to this boat, and you wouldn't let me leave, huh? Because I'd turn out of the blue and slaughter her, our unborn child, and little girl? Eat the flesh off their bones as they cried and screamed in agony!" The nightmarish visuals invaded his thoughts, chilling his blood. "Could that…"

"No, Mr. Grimes. No."

"What the hell is gonna happen to me?"

"Nothing."

"How do you know?"

"Because we do."

Rick grunted. "Shit." What the hell kinda answer was that?

"Dr. Stevens can explain better than I, but you don't have to worry about anything like that. I promise you."

Rick wanted to believe it, but a bite on his back... No one could survive it. How could he? "I won't - I won't hurt Michonne or Judith?" he asked, the pleading in his voice desperate, but he didn't care. He was desperate.

"No. There is no chance of that at all. None. I assure you." Jonah held out his hands, emphasizing his words. His gaze unwavering. "I assure you."

Relief flooded Rick's body. He sank to the bed, exhaling deeply. He felt like he'd just fought a war.

"Look, I want, I need you to see the bigger picture, Mr. Grimes. Walkers exist by way of the dead. You are alive, not just breathing, but living. Truly living. Being impaled didn't kill you, an explosion that slammed you into a raging river filled with chunks of bridge that broke up your body didn't kill you, and being bitten by a roamer didn't kill you. For an average man, any one of these things would've been the end, but you're not bloody average, and that is the point." Jonah sighed. "I know there is nothing you wouldn't do to me or anyone on this ship to get to your family. Your love for your wife and daughter is awe inspiring. I only ask that you wait for Dr. Stevens' return first. Do this, and you'll be reunited with your family and have all of your questions answered. You have my word."

"Your word?" Rick grunted. "Is that worth anything? After this?"

"For me, it's worth everything. I was a first-year med student at Johns Hopkins when the outbreak happened. All of my family and girlfriend in London. In this world, my word is all I have. I have been very honest with you about everything."

Rick studied Jonah. Minus the bite omission, the young man had always been straight with him. Rick nodded. "Okay, I'll wait. But what you said before, about me living, is wrong. Recuperating from my injuries and surviving this bite is existing, not living. I'll be living again when I'm with my family. When I'm holding Michonne again."

"Soon. It will be very soon."

"Salted fish," Rick said to Jonah's retreating back.

"What?"

"That's what I want for breakfast. I want that dried fish or some jerky. Maybe bacon or ham."

"Anything salty?"

"Yeah. Oh, and someone to get rid of all things apple from this room." Rick cringed, turning from the direction where the breafast landed on the floor. "The smell."

Jonah chuckled. "I'm sure your wife is missing you as much as you're missing her. It seems you two share an amazing bond. Believing she's preg –"

"It's not simply a belief," Rick corrected. "To say it's a belief it's like sayin' my name might be Rick Grimes or these scrub bottoms I'm wearing might be blue. I know Michonne is pregnant."

"As I was saying, your awareness of the pregnancy, feeling sympathy pains, craving food, puts you and your wife on a unique wavelength. I think it's a safe bet that she knows you're alive, and she's counting the minutes until you're together again, just like you."

"If you keep your word, neither of us will be counting much long - longer." Tingling shivers raced up Rick's spine. His heart pounded, breaths quickened. He sat up, reveling in the thrilling epiphany that struck him like a bolt of lightning.

Jonah shot to Rick's bedside. "Mr. Grimes, are you okay?"

"Better than okay." Rick leapt off the bed. "Michonne's here. She's here!"

~Thanks for reading!~