Chapter Five

Daryl saw Michonne pull up in her car when he made it to the door of Denny's. He walked over and waited for her. She smiled at him again and got her son out of his car seat. They walked in together to a practically empty restaurant. It was scary. He'd never seen a Denny's this empty except late at night. They were seated right away and offered drinks. They ordered coffee and she ordered juice for her son.

"Sure. We don't have a lot. This…whatever it is. Our deliveries are spotty," the older white woman, 'Sue', told them.

"Fine," he grunted at her.

Michonne couldn't help but smile at Daryl. "You're cute," she said to him. He made a face. "I do like your hair short."

"Whatever," he muttered.

She reached into her purse and pulled out the envelope full of cash, how cliché, and handed it over. "Whatever you can get. Thank you."

He took it off the table fast and put it on the seat next to him. "You better not be a cop. You can't lie about that, can you?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I'm not a criminal attorney or a cop, Daryl."

"I could take it."

"You could. Wipe your ass with it. Start fires with it. Like I said, guns will be easy to find." She knew they would. Bullets would be harder. Good thing she downloaded instructions on how to make gunpowder. And shells. She should've done this the first time. Of course, she thought this would blow over and Mike would be right there with her. The one thing she did hold onto was Mike and his betrayal. That was more tangible to her than anything else she'd gone through. She'd never gotten over losing Andre.

Sue came over and took their orders then left. She watched her son as he scribbled on the paper the server had brought over with their coffees. Sipping with relish, she looked at the man sitting across from her.

"What?" he asked.

"You didn't come back to Alexandria after. I'd always hoped you'd found someone and made me Auntie Michonne."

"Auntie Michonne?!" he gaped at her.

"Yes. Auntie Michonne," she smiled. "We didn't talk much. You didn't talk to anyone a lot, aside from Rick and Carol. Possibly Jesus. Maybe Aaron." She reached over and squeezed the hand he had on the table. "You're a good man, Daryl Dixon."

He frowned. "Don't know about all that," he muttered.

"You are," she insisted and removed her hand. Daryl didn't like to be touched. The rest of their lunch was spent mostly in silence. It reminded her of when they'd gone out looking for The Governor. It was peaceful.

"Here," she gave him her car keys as they were leaving.

"What the hell?!" he gaped at her again.

"I'm assuming you won't be able to bring them on your bike," she said.

He shook his head. "Yeah. Didn't think about that." He scoffed. "I could take this money and this car."

"You could. At least you'd have toilet paper. Or kindling," she said.

"Drop you and little man off," he told her. "Can I leave my bike at your hotel?"

"Yeah. Follow me. I'll need your plate. So, the hotel won't tow it," she added at his look.

"Hell. Already got my number," he muttered.

Daryl watched Michonne walk into the hotel. He left Merle a voicemail and headed home. He'd get in touch with that guy Merle knew and get the crazy woman some guns. He looked in the envelope when he got home and saw a lot of money. Ten thousand. The crazy woman gave him ten thousand dollars. And her car. He coulda ripped her off. He could still rip her off. When he walked in the door Merle was in the kitchen, a beer in front of him.

"Got the message. What the hell? You wanna go on vacation?"

"Shit's gettin' bad, Merle. A lotta people are gettin' sick. Had a friend of mine get us a coupla rooms in a B & B near the mountains."

"A friend of yours?" he asked suspiciously.

"Yeah, Merle, I got friends," he retorted.

"None with money, little brother," Merle snapped back.

"I do. She's gettin' outta the city, too. Not with us," he added at Merle's look.

"You gotta girlfriend? Hell, I thought you were gay."

"Fuck you, Merle. I'm not gay. She's just a friend. Shit's gettin' weird, lotta people gettin' sick," he said angrily.

"Huh," he grunted. "What's the catch?"

"No catch. Fuck, it's free rooms and breakfast. Don't gotta do anything. Thought maybe we could go huntin' or somethin'."

Merle stared at him. He didn't do anything. Maybe this wasn't a good idea.

"How long?"

"Week. It's not like you got nothin' else to do."

"Alright. Give me the directions. Room's booked?"

"Yeah, startin' today. Check in's three."

"How long to get there?"

"Don't know. A few hours or so."

"Get your shit together, little brother."

"Got somethin' to do. For my friend."

Merle smiled. "Alright, Daryl. I think I like your girlfriend. When you headin' out?"

"Tomorrow mornin'," he said and gave him the directions. "Meet me up there."

Now the bastard was smilin' bigger. "Have fun, little brother. Condom's, dumbass," he said before he went to his room.

"It's not like that!" he yelled. "Asshole."

He met up with one of Merle's friends and called Michonne back.

"Hi, Daryl," she greeted when she answered.

"Hey. Got some."

She sagged with relief. The last thing she needed. Michonne would've found guns and ammo, but it would be easier if she had some to start with.

"Thank you. Dinner?"

He snorted. "Sure."

"IHOP or Denny's? A lot of businesses are closing down."

"Don't matter."

"Denny's it is."

"Yeah. Pick you and little man up in a few hours," he said and hung up.

Six would put them just under the curfew and, if experience was anything to go by, they'll be out of a lot of things. She enjoyed having food brought to her table while it lasted.

"Come on, Peanut," she crooned to her just waking son. "Let's go to the pool."

She enjoyed this, too. She ignored Mike's calls and let them go to voicemail. She had nothing to say to him. She couldn't imagine him doing anything differently from last time and if he did? She'd never, ever forgive him for killing her son. Out of everything that happened last time that resonated with her, the grief had been considerable, that had been the worst.

They stayed at the pool for a little while then they both laid down for a nap. She needed to get the rest while she could.

"Hello," she answered. She sounded like she'd been sleepin'.

"I'm here," he announced.

"Okay. Give me a few minutes."

"What room?"

"Oh, three seventeen."

Daryl walked inside and took the elevator up. He knocked on door three one seven and it opened a few minutes later.

"Hi," she greeted and stood back.

"Guns in the trunk," he told her when he was inside.

"Good. It'll make it easier. So, Denny's."

"Hi, Da," little man said.

"Little man," he responded. Little man's dad must be an asshole because Michonne practically lit up the room. After she got her shoes on, they headed downstairs, and he got in the passenger side. She looked at him while she strapped her son in and didn't say anything when she started to drive.

"Figured I could stay here tonight. Curfew," he muttered.

"Sure," she replied.

This woman. "You know I could kill ya both."

She laughed. "You could try. I've got a sword and now more guns. Plus, ammo. Right?"

"Yeah, I got ammo," he scoffed. "Figured if it was as bad as you say it was, no one's gonna be makin' bullets."

She grinned and pulled into the parking lot.

Dinner was much the same as lunch; quiet. Andre'd lost his fear of Daryl and Daryl had always been good with kids. It seemed like. Those memories seemed more of a dream every day. Michonne was deciding if she should write that stuff down in case she needed to remember. Why would she? She'd be living a different life. It wouldn't be sunshine and rainbows, but it couldn't be as bad as last time. Andre would be with her. And if for some reason he wasn't? Well, she'd do a better job this time.

When they got back to the hotel Michonne took the guns, thank god they were in bags, up to her room through the back door. Daryl looked at her funny as she tested both rifles and handled the handguns easily.

"Guess you do know how," he muttered.

She didn't stay up much longer after that, telling Daryl they'd go to IHOP for breakfast. He shook his head and laid down on the couch.

It took longer than Michonne had liked, but as she told Daryl; he'd been a friend to her when she'd needed one.

The IHOP was deserted when they pulled up. If the lights hadn't been on he'da thought the damn place was closed. The news. He'd been listenin' to the news in her car both ways and it wasn't lookin' good.

"Hi. Just sit anywhere," the older white lady said and went to get coffee. When she put the pot on the table, she told them they were out of a lot of things. "When this flu's over I may pick up a new career. Truck driver. I hear they make good money," she laughed.

"I'm sure they'll need them," Michonne agreed. "I'll have pancakes and bacon. If you have any juice, I'd like for my son to have it."

"Sounds good, dear. He is a cutie. What about you, handsome?"

He frowned at the woman. "Same."

She picked up the menus she'd just put down and said she'd be back with juice before leaving.

"Was it," he whispered.

"I can't remember. I know we'd been confined to our apartment until we were told to go to the camp," she answered as she poured them coffee.

"Huh."

"I couldn't resist eating out one last time," she smiled.

"Where are you goin'?"

"Nice try, Mr. Dixon," she replied and put her arms on the table.

"You and little man can't do whatever by yourselves. Puttin' up fences or walls."

She shrugged. "I'm sure I'll find people. Besides, you have Merle."

"I can talk to Merle," he said.

"Are we talking about the same Merle Dixon?" She raised her eyebrows.

"I'll talk to him," he insisted.

She grabbed his hand and squeezed it. "Daryl, you're a good man. A good man. Your brother is a racist asshole, and I won't have him around my son. But I would like something from you. If you would."

"What?" he asked with narrowed eyes.

"Find someone and make me Auntie Michonne. I figured you like blondes, don't ask me why. When I'm at my place I would like to think of you, my friend both times, as being happy. We didn't have a lot of it last time. I think we're due." She let go of his hand.

Auntie Michonne.