AN: Here's another chapter.
I am not entirely happy with it, but I absolutely cannot make it any better or fix it anymore. There's an AN at the end that I would appreciate if you would read and weigh in on.
I hope you enjoy the chapter, but I would absolutely understand if you didn't, LOL. Seriously, though, I tried.
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"Come on in," Ezekiel said. "Henry's with Enid."
They stepped into the house that Henry was calling home and, temporarily, that Ezekiel was also calling home. He waved a hand in the somewhat universal gesture that said that they should make themselves at home. Michonne walked with her hand at the small of Carol's back, and she waved her toward a chair that looked like it might actually be the most comfortable for her. Carol sat down in the chair, and Michonne sat on the couch near her. Ezekiel stood for a moment.
The presence of the tiger, lounging on the rug at the side of the room, would have been shocking—terrifying, even—except for the fact that they'd become accustomed to her regal presence. She watched the scene unfolding around her with the same simultaneously bored and intense expression that any housecat had ever used to oversee the doings of their humans.
"Can I get you something to drink?" He asked. "I'd offer you refreshments, but…Henry and I haven't really done much in the way of procuring food."
"We just came to talk," Carol said.
Ezekiel nodded. He sat down on in the other chair, so that all their bodies created something of a circle—at least as much of a circle as the arrangement of the living room furniture would allow.
Michonne couldn't help but notice that he looked tired. Heavy. They'd all looked that way for different reasons and at different times. It was as if they wore their struggles as lead mantles draped over their shoulders.
"You want to talk," Ezekiel said, the words coming out more as a musing than a genuine statement.
"Without all the crap," Carol said. Ezekiel laughed to himself. It sounded sincere, if exhausted, and Carol laughed to herself quietly. Immediately, Michonne could feel that it was something shared between them. Ezekiel nodded in response.
"Whatever you wish," he said. "I promise," he said, immediately holding his hand up to Carol's beginning protests. "Some if it is habit. Nothing more than that." He looked toward Michonne. "You play the part so long that the role becomes a second skin…almost impossible to shed entirely."
"Do your best," Carol said.
"I think I know why you're here," Ezekiel said. "You're here for an apology."
"No," Carol said. "I didn't come to ask for an apology."
"No. You came because—I owe you an apology," Ezekiel said. "And, want it or not, Carol? You'll have it, and I mean it. I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I would never…never…hurt you on purpose. And, I'm sorry that I hurt you by accident. I'm sorry that I let myself get so wrapped up in…things and feelings…that I hurt you."
"You didn't really hurt me…"
"There were bruises."
"I bruise easily."
"You would say that," Ezekiel said. "Ed would have taught you to say that. And the last thing I ever wanted was to be him."
"You're not him. You could never be him. I did kind of have intentions to kill you. Arguably, it was self-defense."
Ezekiel frowned at her.
"I lost control of myself. I could blame adrenaline, but it wouldn't do any good to either of us for me to offer you excuses. I hurt you, and I'm…sorry."
"Why?" Carol asked. "Ezekiel—I'm not angry about the bruises or…whatever it was that happened. It was a misunderstanding. It was a moment where I was startled, and you were surprised. And when everyone feels like that, accidents happen. I just want to know…why? You haven't been yourself lately. The whole thing. Just…why?"
For a moment, they looked at each other, rather intensely, and Michonne sat back in the couch and wished she could blend a little better with her surroundings. There was clearly communication taking place, though, and there was no need for more words than the ones that had been shared. Carol's expression was set. The line between her brows left no room for argument. Ezekiel's expression was penitent. The deep-set frown suggested that he'd been answering the question, for himself, for most of the day, at least.
Ezekiel shook his head.
"I haven't been myself lately," he confirmed. "I've felt as if—I hardly know myself. What can I say?"
"If I knew how to answer that," Carol offered, "then I wouldn't have come."
"You know I love you," Ezekiel said. "I have loved you since the moment I met you."
Carol laughed to herself.
"Now you're being overdramatic again," she said, relaxing into her chair. Ezekiel laughed in response.
"Maybe a touch," he ceded. "But the sentiment remains true. Despite the fact that I love you, though, I know that you were never mine. Not really. Not entirely. You always belonged to your Wildman in the woods."
"And I always will," Carol said. Her smiled hadn't faded and, really, neither had Ezekiel's. Both of them seemed to have relaxed, though, and the exchange passing between them, now, had a whole different feeling to it than it had before. Michonne felt relaxed enough, now, to sit back in her own seat without wishing that she had the abilities of a chameleon to visually become one with the floral fabric.
"I know," Ezekiel confirmed, nodding his head.
"You said you accepted it," Carol said. "We talked to Henry about it. As angry as he was…you helped me talk to him because…you accepted it."
"I did," Ezekiel agreed. "And, I do. I've told you from the beginning that, more than anything? I want you to be safe, cared for, and happy."
"Then I don't understand…" Carol said.
"Neither do I," Ezekiel said with a nervous laugh, this time. He shook his head and got to his feet, very much in the manner of someone who has far too much energy and no outlet for that energy. He paced a few steps away from them, as though he intended to make a clear path for pacing out his extra energy in the oversized living room. "I've been here—turning it over in my mind, Carol. I don't have an excuse. I don't have an explanation. At least, I don't have a very good one."
"I'll take a bad one, Ezekiel," Carol offered.
"I'm only a man," Ezekiel said. He held his hands out to Carol, palm upward, as if to say that was the best worst excuse that he could give her, and maybe it was. "You said that—you would always come back."
"I did say that," Carol said. "And I meant it. I'll never be truly gone. You're Henry's father, and you're very important to me. You know that." Ezekiel nodded. "You said that was enough. Have you changed your mind?"
"I am happy to have you in my life, whatever form your presence may take," Ezekiel said. "I never changed my mind about that. And it's enough. You're enough, Carol. But, suddenly? I woke up and…I was a man with nothing. You were gone. Naturally, you'd taken her with you. My son was leaving home to be close to you, and I had nothing."
"You have the Kingdom," Michonne said. She didn't know, exactly, why she'd felt so compelled to speak. She was supposed to be here as a spectator and nothing more. Maybe, though, it was simply because she connected with something in Ezekiel's expression and the tone of his words. She knew, even as she said the words, what he was thinking.
"The Kingdom is a construction," Ezekiel said. "A community—the same as Alexandria."
"A community that counts on you," Michonne said. "The same way that Alexandria counts on me."
"A community full of people who have always been able to take care of themselves," Ezekiel said. "They haven't needed me as anything more than a figurehead for years. It's been me that's needed them more often than not. Even now, I've left Michael in charge, as he planned to be for the winter, and I can assure you that the Kingdom continues to function just as efficiently as ever."
Michonne's chest ached. She understood.
A place couldn't fill a hole—not the kind of hole that Ezekiel was clearly feeling. Michonne had holes of her own, even if she didn't remind people of their presence regularly.
"You have Henry," Carol said.
"Henry is all but grown," Ezekiel said. "And, if we're lucky? Soon he'll be married. He'll be starting a family of his own."
"You'll still be his father," Carol said. "His family will be your family. And—you'll still have me. I'm still your friend, Ezekiel."
He nodded his head somewhat solemnly.
"Shiva probably doesn't appreciate being left out, either," Carol added with an encouraging smile.
"I am no longer welcome in your home," Ezekiel said. "And—I've been thinking about it. I am not sure that my presence is really…welcome…in your home either. Or your community." The final words, Ezekiel directed in Michonne's direction. "So—I apologize to you, Carol, for any harm that I may have done you. Michonne—I apologize for any disruption of peace that my presence has caused here. I will be happy to apologize to anyone else who feels that I have wronged them. Tomorrow, I'll be returning to the Kingdom."
"If you need to go back to the Kingdom because you've been gone too long," Carol said, "then you ought to go. But if you're going because you think you're not welcome?"
"You need to stay," Michonne said.
"I hardly think after what happened…"
"What happened was—maybe a long time coming," Carol said. "And maybe as much my fault as anyone else's." She offered him a tentative smile.
"You're suggesting it was to be expected that we would quarrel like schoolboys on the playground?" Ezekiel asked, laughing to himself.
"It's only natural there would be at least some kind of fight. I am pretty irresistible," Carol said, her voice heavy with teasing.
"That you are," Ezekiel said. "Still, I mean what I said from the beginning. I would rather have you in my life as…what I may have you as, than as nothing at all. In the best interest of you and the little…one…" He had clearly stopped himself from calling the baby a princess. Though Michonne didn't think it was the worst name ever for a baby girl, she could understand why Carol insisted that he stop. "Maybe it's better that I leave."
"You said that Michael had control of the Kingdom," Carol said. "And that you weren't really needed."
"You know it's true," he said with a laugh.
"Maybe you're needed here," Carol said.
"Carol…"
"Ezekiel—I'm married to Daryl. And I love him more than I've ever loved any man. But I love you, too, as a friend. A very good friend. You haven't lost that."
"You haven't lost anything," Michonne interjected. "Nobody here is so rich as to throw away a friend over a disagreement. In fact, it's more than that. You have family here. And you're not leaving Alexandria."
"I don't want to cause any trouble or ill feelings."
"Do you—promise not to be rough?" Carol asked.
"I promise not to touch you again," Ezekiel said, holding his hands up in mock surrender.
"Don't play the martyr with me, Ezekiel, it doesn't look good on you," Carol said.
Ezekiel laughed to himself and shook his head.
"I promise to—only treat you…or anyone else…with the utmost respect and delicateness."
"Do you promise to—help me talk to Henry? So that he understands, completely, that…this was never personal? And that, especially now, it's not?"
"We'll talk to him together," Ezekiel said. "If you think that might be best."
"Then, I think you can't leave," Carol said. "I think—you have to stay. In fact, I think I need you to stay."
"You told Michael to watch over the Kingdom for the winter," Michonne said. "And you really shouldn't travel in the snow."
"There isn't any."
"It'll be coming soon enough," Michonne countered. "You ought to stay at least until the spring."
Ezekiel looked between them, smiling to himself, even though he was doing his best to swallow the smile.
"You ladies drive a hard bargain. You make it difficult to refuse."
"Especially when we work together," Michonne said.
"Some might say you're…a force to be reckoned with," Ezekiel said, smiling back at her.
"We're each that, all by ourselves," Michonne offered. She didn't try to hide her own smile entirely. Ezekiel laughed quietly. He looked at Carol.
"What will your husband say?"
"I'll talk to him," Carol said. "But—I wouldn't worry. I think that he'll understand."
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AN: So, I need some honest opinions from the few people who are reading this story. I'm too close to the project because it's my creative endeavor, so I need some opinions from those who aren't as close to it as I am.
When I started this story, I really wanted to tell it. I needed to tell it. When I decided to expand it beyond a one shot, I knew the feeling/tone for the story and the ending that I wanted. Around Chapter 35 (so back in August), it took an unplanned detour that has been nothing like what I wanted for the story.
The only thing that has kept me from throwing it out entirely is that I really did want to tell this story and I know that, if I were to throw it out, I would still feel like it was a story that I needed to tell. I would eventually have to rewrite it. That's a lot of work.
The only thing that keeps me from throwing out the past 11 or so chapters, deleting back to Chapter 35, and starting from there again is that I know that, once it's out there and you've read it, it's really difficult to erase the feelings and knowledge from your mind. Even if I deleted it, it would still be part of the story for me and for you, at least in some ways.
I will spoil just enough to say that this was NEVER meant to be anti-Ezekiel or even negatively-Ezekiel in any way. That was not my intention at all. That was not part of the plan. It doesn't fit, in any way, with the feeling I wanted or the ending I want. Therefore, the only way to fix this colossal mess is to figure out how to undo that negativity/those negative feelings. As you can see, I've done about the best I can do. I am not a magician, and I'm being weighed down by the negativity (hence the reason it's taken me since August to write these 11 chapters). I need to be done with the negative.
I guess my question is…is what I have been capable of doing enough to get rid of the negative feelings, or are those just a permanent part to this now?
I need to know if I'm better to just try to go forward from here (for which those negative feelings have got to be pretty much gone for everyone reading/writing/and existing in the story), to delete back to 35 and start again from there (if it's even possible to somehow erase all that's happened from memories and feelings) or to start again (which I don't want to do, honestly).
I know this is a story that I need to tell. I know it's one I want to tell. It's just that it hasn't really been that story for about 11 chapters, and I need to know if there's any salvaging it, from a reader's perspective, (and, if there is, what's the best way to go about it from the options above), or if I need to toss out the whole thing.