Red River Blue

Chapter 81

Michonne sighed as she trudged up the steps. She glanced behind her before she knocked lightly on the door, still trying to figure out how she managed to get herself nominated for this particular task. The selling point seemed to be that she was a woman. Because they both had vaginas, that apparently meant that she was supposed to be able to relate to Jessie in some way.

Jessie's husband was abusing her. Not only did her younger son confess this to Carol and River, but Harley and Beth actually saw Pete grabbing at his wife. Michonne was on board with the idea that they ought to help the woman. Or at least try to. She just didn't know why she was the one knocking on the door to speak to her. If Rick and Merle's stupid asses wanted a woman to do this, they should have sent River or Carol over here. Someone that could relate to Jessie in some way. Because if a man tried to take a swing at Michonne, it'd be the last swing he ever took.

Michonne knocked on the door again, pounding slightly louder this time. A little part of her was hoping that no one would answer. So she could leave. But just when she was thinking that she was off the hook, the door cracked open. Jessie peeked out, giving Michonne a curious glance. They had been introduced briefly. But never really spoke before.

"Can I help you?," she asked. Michonne nodded, trying to figure out what to say next.

"I need to talk to you," she said, finally spitting out the words.

"It's not a good time right now," Jessie told her. The woman's voice was low and soft. And she kept nervously glancing back inside the house. Michonne let out a heavy sigh and decided she might as well just rip the bandaid off. Being subtle was never her strong suit.

"Your son asked Carol for a gun," she said. Unlike Jessie, Michonne was not concerned about keeping her voice down. "He said he needed it to protect you from his father. Because the man beat you unconscious." Jessie's eyes widened. She brought her hand up to cover her mouth, choking off a sob. "You want to let me in?," Michonne asked. "Or do you want to have this conversation out here on the porch?"

Jessie choked off another sob and swung the door open, moving back and allowing Michonne to enter her house. Once the door shut, Jessie started talking. She fired off lame excuses for her husband in rapid succession. He had a drinking problem. He didn't mean it. He was a good man when he wasn't drinking. Michonne wasn't impressed with any of it.

"He's hurting you," she stated. "Do you want our help? Or do you want to wait until he kills you?"

"Why do you care what happens to me?," Jessie asked. Michonne paused. It was a legitimate question. The truth was, Michonne wasn't sure if she had any personal investment in Jessie's marriage. She had been tasked with keeping the peace and protecting this place. A job she took seriously. But the real reason she was here was because River and Carol were making a stink. And because they were upset, Daryl and Merle were both pissed off. And Rick couldn't let all of them throw a fit without him. So now Michonne was here in Jessie's house. Talking to her about how her husband was using her as a punching bag.

"It doesn't matter why. Do you want our help or not?"

Jessie stayed quiet for a moment, pondering the question. Finally she gave Michonne a small nod of her head. She did want their help. And not only that, she needed it too. Before Pete really did kill her.

"Alright then," Michonne said, nodding her approval and placing her hand on the other woman's back. "Go pack a bag. You and the boys can come stay with us. We'll figure out what to do next once you're out of here."

Michonne hovered awkwardly in the living room. She didn't accompany Jessie upstairs to get her things. And now she was questioning that decision. Because the woman seemed to be taking longer than necessary to return with a few days worth of clothes and her toothbrush. Michonne breathed a sigh of relief when Jessie finally returned with a small backpack in her hands. Michonne was heading for the door when she heard Pete's voice.

"Where in hell do you think you're going?," he asked, his attention focused on his wife. Michonne could tell from his body movements and the glazed look in his eyes that he was drunk.

"I'm leaving," Jessie told him, taking another nervous step towards the door. He moved fast for someone so drunk, rushing forward and grabbing Jessie by the arm. When she started struggling to break his grip on her, he raised his hand and slapped her across the face. Michonne reached for her sword. But her hands came back empty. Her sword was across the street, hanging up above the fireplace mantle. She cursed under her breath. Then she launched herself at the larger man, leaping onto his back and locking her elbow around his throat. He let go of Jessie, sending her flying onto the floor. She scrambled to her feet and ran for the door, screaming for help the moment she got out on the porch.

Michonne kept a firm hold on Pete's throat, squeezing as hard as she could and hoping that he would start to lose strength. But he was only thrashing more wildly, determined in his drunken rage to shake her off and go after his wife. He threw himself backwards. Michonne guessed his intent was to slam her body against the wall. But he didn't aim well. And instead of hitting the wall he sent them both flying through his living room window. They hit the porch and went rolling. Michonne took the brunt of the impact, since she landed underneath the much larger man. Her head knocked hard into the wooden slats of the porch and she could see little black dots swimming in front of her eyes.

Pete's recovery was much faster. He clambered to his feet and stumbled down the steps. Jessie was in their front yard, backing away from him. He started towards her. But suddenly someone was in his way, pushing back against his chest.

"That's enough," River hollered, mirroring the large man's movements to keep her body between him and his wife. "Back off! Calm yer ass down!" River glanced behind her. Carol had Jessie by the arm, trying to pull her away from the fight before her husband managed to get around River and go after her again. Taking her eyes off the man was River's mistake. She didn't see his hand coming at her until his palm was cracking down across her face. The force of the impact knocked her back a step. She could taste blood in her mouth from where her teeth cut into her lip.

Carol shouldered up next to her. But she wasn't taking any chances. Carol had her knife out, ready to stab the man if he came at either of them again. They backed away slowly, still keeping Jessie behind them. River pulled up the hem of her shirt and wiped the blood off her lip. Jessie was crying, practically begging her husband to stop.

"Go back in yer house," River suggested to him, "before ya get more than a hangover."

Pete did not listen to her sound advice. Instead he started advancing on the small group of women. He got as far as one foot off the curb before he was tackled to the pavement. Merle was on top of the man, punching him over and over again in the face. River wasn't concerned at first. Pete more than deserved what he was getting. It was when the man started to go limp and Merle was still swinging that she glanced at Carol.

"Oh shit. He's gonna fuckin' kill this asshole," River hissed.

"Goddamn it," Carol cursed.

They must not have been the only ones concerned with what was happening. Because several people from town started advancing on the two men with the clear intent of dragging Merle off the other man. He whipped his gun out of the back of his pants and pointed it at them, telling them to back the fuck off. He then announced quite loudly that he intended to beat Pete to death. And that no one was going to stop him. Since his focus was on the advancing townspeople, Merle didn't see his brother flinging at him until it was too late. Daryl punched him across the face hard, knocking him out in one swing.