Michonne hefted the heavy water containers as she made her way down the road. The sun was much higher in the sky now and the early morning coolness was burning off. She stopped for a moment to use her forearm to wipe a bead of sweat that was steadily sliding down her forehead into her eye, when a movement further down the road caught her attention.
Someone was making their way towards her. She took a moment to focus, and realized from the clothing that it was Carl.
Her heart dropped. Was something wrong with his father? Did he die? Was there a threat? She walked faster to catch up with the boy who noticed her after a few seconds.
"Carl? What happened?" Michonne asked.
"I'm going to find food. My dad is still sleeping, he'll need something to eat when he wakes up."
"You need to stay…"
"He's fine. I'm going. You can stay back at the house if you want, I'll get some food for you too."
Michonne sighed. She had no right to boss this kid around. He wasn't hers, and they really did need food. The single can of beans she had left just wasn't enough. She studied his face and saw the pure resolve reflected back at her.
"Did you leave a note for him?" she asked.
Carl's eyes flicked back and forth. "A note?"
"Yea, to tell him where you are. What if he wakes up and both of us are gone?"
"Oh. Uh… no."
"C'mon," Michonne said, lifting the water bottles that she'd let rest on the ground.
"Where are we going?" he asked.
"We're going back to the house so you can leave your father a note. Then we'll look for food."
Carl reached out a hand to take one of the heavy water containers Michonne was carrying. Amused with the boy's thoughtfulness, she gave it to him, and they continued back to the house.
While Carl wrote, Michonne dropped off the bottles of water and checked out Rick once again. He was still lying in the same position, and his condition hadn't gotten any better or worse.
"He should drink something soon," Michonne said softly.
"Yea," Carl agreed. "When we come back I'll try to give him something."
He finished scribbling the note and left it on the table in front of his dad.
They secured the house as best they could, and then left to explore the neighborhood. The first house they rummaged through had clearly been ransacked by someone else. Furniture was strewn around, and the cabinets were open and bare. Animal droppings were prevalent throughout the living room and hallways. After a few minutes of scavenging silently, Michonne called off their hunt.
"There's nothing here. Let's go."
The two of them kept walking, passing houses that Michonne had already checked out the day before, until they came upon a house that seemed promising.
The grass was waist high in the yard, and hidden within the bushes was a red tricycle that had been there so long, foliage had grown through the spokes in the wheels, and roots encircled the handlebars, the plantlife gripping it possessively.
They approached the steps, and it creaked under their combined weight. Michonne tried the front door and it was locked.
"That's good," Michonne whispered to Carl. "Means no one else has been in here."
"I can get it open," Carl said, staring at the door.
Michonne took a step back and watched the boy, thinking he knew how to pick locks or had some other tactic for getting through locked doors. She was surprised when he backed up a few feet, got a running start, and launched himself at the door with a thud. He promptly bounced off the front and landed on the porch in a heap.
Michonne burst into laughter so hard she bent over to try catching her breath. Carl lay on the ground in a stunned silence, listening to Michonne's hysterics.
"Are… are you okay?" she managed to get out, struggling to see Carl through the tears coming from her eyes.
"Yea, I'm great," he mumbled, picking himself off the ground.
"If I'd known you were gonna do that I would've told you it wouldn't work."
Carl sighed, ignoring Michonne as he peeked through the small window next to the front door.
"Well, now we know there are no walkers on the first floor," he muttered.
"Yea, cuz they would've come a runnin' with that racket," Michonne teased, before joining him in front of the door. "You can do a lot more with brains than you can with brawn."
She pulled a plastic credit card from her bag and folded down one end. As Carl watched intrigued, she wiggled and maneuvered the card into the small slit between the door and the door jam. She slid the card down, through the latch on the door handle, and after three attempts, the locked door popped open.
Carl gave her a blank stare as she pushed the door open, pulled her katana, and proceeded into the house.
Michonne's eyes scanned the unkempt living room in front of her. Clothes were sprawled on the couch, and suitcases were laid out on the floor as if someone were preparing to leave quickly. Baby bottles were lined up on the kitchen counters, and Michonne noticed a box of diapers near the suitcases.
Her heart clenched, but she took a deep breath and continued in, followed by Carl.
Together, they did a quick scan of the first floor, making sure there were no hiding walkers. They then carefully made their way up the creaking steps to the second floor. All of the doors on this floor were closed.
Michonne would've told the boy to search for food downstairs as she cleared the upper floors, but she could tell he would not have been okay with that. Throughout the whole downstairs search, Carl was right behind her, covering her back, and she was sure that they boy knew what he was doing.
They stood in front of the first closed door. "You ready?" Michonne asked, looking back at Carl. He nodded. She swung the door open, and he entered the room with his gun pointed, her sword following right behind. The room was still. It had a yellow and green motif, with clouds pasted on to the walls, and bookshelves full of books. Model airplanes and stuffed animals cluttered the floor. A toddler bed with yellow and green Bob the Builder sheets, and a crib with a stuffed Winnie the Pooh toy inside it lined the walls.
Carl lowered his gun. He took a few steps into the room and looked down into the crib with a reflective look on his face. Michonne's eyes were drawn to the toddler bed, but then found Carl, and she walked up behind him.
"That's the same crib my sister had," he admitted, running his fingers across the crib's railing. "Her name was Judith. Dad let me name her."
Michonne's heart broke. She couldn't see Carl's face underneath his large Sheriff's hat, but she could feel the emotion in his voice.
"She's gone, like the rest of my family. Like my mom. Like everyone I ever knew. Like we're gonna be soon."
Michonne bit her lip. She remembered having those same thoughts after she lost Andre and Mike. She remembered the deep depression that followed, the pure hopelessness of it all. To see those thoughts being voiced in a child so young deeply disturbed her. Looking for a way to comfort him, she placed her hand on his shoulder.
"My son is dead. He was only three when he died. He loved Bob the Builder, and playing with toys, and reading, and singing. He would've loved this room…" she said, her voice breaking.
Carl turned to look at her as she took a deep breath and blinked rapidly to stop herself from falling apart. "My family is dead too. But you know what? I'm alive. And while I'm still breathing, I'm going to keep living. It took me a while to come to that conclusion, but living is how we honor the people we've lost."
"What was his name?" Carl asked.
"Andre. His name was Andre Anthony."
"Do you think he's in heaven now?" Carl asked.
"I hope so. I hope your sister is in heaven too."
Michonne paused for a moment and looked at the ground briefly before continuing. "Look, I know I don't really know you, but I can tell that your dad is a good dad."
Carl narrowed his eyes. "How do you know?"
"Because you're still alive. You're still here. I know how hard it is to keep your kids safe in a world like this, and if his son is still alive, and as smart and caring as you are, I just know he's a good dad."
Carl looked down at the floor and then slowly looked up at Michonne again.
"Maybe Andre and Judith are together in heaven, somewhere."
Michonne smiled and patted Carl on the back.
"C'mon, let's check out the other rooms," she suggested.
The two of them opened the second door which was another bedroom with an attached bathroom. When Michonne searched the bathroom inside, she found toothpaste, toilet paper, and more first aid gauze and bandages. Carl took sheets and linens from the bedroom that would be very useful at night.
They reached the third bedroom, and this time Carl opened the door and Michonne entered first. The faint smell of decay caught her attention immediately.
In the bed was an adult and two children, their decomposed bodies entwined on the bed. The adult, presumably female from her long hair, had her arms wrapped around the children, and a gun in her hand.
Michonne quickly exited the room, bumping into Carl who was trying to enter behind her. When the two of them stumbled out, Michonne slammed the door shut.
"What is it?" Carl asked, baffled by her behavior. Michonne's eyes were wide and her chest was heaving as she pressed her back to the door.
"Nothing," she lied.
Carl squinted his eyes at her.
"There was a baby in there," he declared.
"No. It was a dog," Michonne lied again.
Carl looked at the door again, and then turned around.
"C'mon, let's see if there's any food in the kitchen," Michonne said, redirecting him downstairs.
In the kitchen, the two of them cleared the cabinets, finding a treasure trove of undiscovered food. Two boxes of cereal, a half full bag of dried rice, a can of powdered baby formula which Michonne tried to discreetly hide without Carl seeing, canned vegetables, and two stale, melted candy bars. But the most impressive part of their haul was a giant can filled with 112 ounces of chocolate pudding.
When Michonne saw the pure excitement on Carl's face she picked up a can opener and unscrewed the top.
"Go ahead," she said, passing him a spoon. "I'm sure your dad won't mind if we're a little late coming back."
Carl smiled and pushed another spoon to Michonne.
"Let's share."
The two of them found a sunny spot on the front steps of the house, and shared the pudding between them.
Soon they were both breathing heavily from their overfilled bellies.
"That was good," Michonne said with a nod, "but we'd better save some for Rick."
"Yea," Carl said with a smile, bending the can so it covered the remainder of the pudding.
They gathered their haul, and started back towards their home, both of their spirits lighter.
A/N: Thank you for every review!