Recap: After a public outburst, Monday night, Michonne is admitted into psychiatric care for 48hrs. With no way of getting out until the time is up, Michonne decides to cooperate with the onboard psychologist, Linda. After a talk with Mike, Michonne realizes that Mike may know about her affair with Rick.

Chapter 14

Christie's POV

Christie sat down her phone and glanced at the bearded man with a small head. He unceremoniously invited himself to sit across from her inside Rositas, five minutes ago. She cringed when his large belly bumped into the table, making her sugar honey ice tea shake. Christie calmly placed her hand on top of the glass to keep it from spilling and sighed.

"Am I bothering you?" He asked. Christie's response was a blank stare and then an eye roll. Does he seriously have no self-awareness? His offensive grin dropped replaced with a scowl.

"Pretty girls nowadays, don't know manners. A man asks you a question, you answer."

Christie played with the hem of her dress and met the man's lecherous gaze. A quip was on the tip of her tongue, but she suppressed it by pressing her lips together. She wanted to take the fork she had carefully straighten and stab him in the hand. She wanted him on the ground writhing in pain because of her. A perverse smile crept on her face as she enjoyed her horror show fantasy.

"Missy, why are you smiling, you look crazy." Christie's smile dropped. The man took a napkin from the table and dabbed his profusely sweaty face and then casually tossed it back on the table. Christie sneered, her hand inched towards the fork, a slew of profanities wanting to break out of her mouth.

"Is there a reason why you're in my seat?" Shane Walsh's strong southern twang rang in her ear. Annoyance was her first emotion, she wasn't expecting him to be here, and she didn't want him here. But, she felt his heavy hands on her shoulders, and when she leaned her head back, it rested on his hard stomach. Now an extra surge of confidence swept over her, she flashed a devilish grin at the befuddled beady-eyed man who didn't seem to comprehend Shane's question.

"A man asks you a question, you answer." Michonne's guy. His accent was less harsh than Shane's, softer, but the grit in his tone showed that his kindness only extended so far.

The big-headed man's face redden, his beady eyes bounced left and right above Christie's head and then they fell upon her. Her smile only grew wider and she snickered. Shane's hands left her, she glanced up as he stood by her side. His nostrils flared and the vein in his neck pulsed. Her hero, she smirked, maybe she'll forget about her self-imposed celibacy tonight.

The man stood up in a hurry, his large belly once again bumping into the table, this time, spilling Christie's tea all over it and onto the bottom of her dress and her legs. She sat there for a few moments, not reacting like she should when cold liquid stains your Valentino dress. Instead, she watched passively as Shane lunged for the man, grabbing his arm, and pressing his fingers into his skin as he escorted the man out. And then she felt a hand on her arm and napkins appearing in front of her face. Turn on your emotions, you robot! Christie turned her head and smiled timidly at Michonne's guy.

Maybe it was the heat or the fact that he stopped in the middle of an argument with his wife to check on Michonne or maybe she still had the picture of him smiling with that same wife and his son on her mind, but when Christie first got a good look at Rick Grimes last Friday, she couldn't see his attractiveness. But, not now, his lips upturned into a companionable smile, he had a strong nose and chiseled jaw and chin. But it was his eyes that stood out the most, they were vividly blue and as Christie looked closer, they confirmed to her that everything Michonne told her about this other world was true. Rick has been through things, have seen things, done things that didn't disappear like the rest of the other world. From the outside, he was just a cop from a small town, who had limited life experiences, but looking into his eyes, Rick was so much more.

There was movement to the left of her, a waitress apologetically cleaned up her spilled drink. The interruption broke Christie out of her trance, she mumbled thanks and dabbed at the splotches that were on her dress and wiped her legs. Shane came back, adrenaline coursing through his body, his eyes soften when they fell upon her.

"What did you do?" Rick asked. Shane shot him an indignant look.

"Nothing that you wouldn't have done… before last week, I mean." He came forward and she stood up. He grabbed her hand and Christie stepped closer, smiling brightly. She held onto his hip and pressed herself against him. Make him feel wanted, whisper platitudes in his ear, and promise him an amazing lay. She had a suspicion that Shane didn't know the real reason for Rick meeting her, so he needed to go.

"Can you give Rick and me a couple of minutes alone?"

Shane raised his eyebrows, his skepticism showing on his face. "Just a few minutes and then you can have me to yourself," she continued.

She rubbed his lower back until Shane's frown upturned into a smile and then his gaze fell to Rick who stood behind her. "I'm sorry Christie, my friend's paranoia seems to be rubbing off on me," he said.

She didn't know what Shane meant by that but she turned back just in time to see Rick's eyes roll. He then sat in the same seat that the boorish man had stood up from. "I saw a couple of stores, I'll see if I can buy you something you'll like."

"No. You don't have to," she said quietly. Shane gently grabbed her chin with two fingers, he licked his lips and leaned in closer to her. Her cheeks flushed, she wanted to move back, but instead she waited to see if he would kiss her. His eyes were heavy with lust and she felt his excitement. "Shane," she whispered. His breathing tickled her nose, she would have happily told Rick they could talk later if her instincts weren't screaming for her to step back. Because, looking into Shane's eyes, she didn't just see lust, but a darkness, a creeping obsession slowly awakening from its slumber, and she so happened to be its trigger.

"I'm going to anyway," he said. Shane released her chin and trapped her in strong arms and then planted a kiss on her forehead. "I'll be back."

"Ok." She moved away from his hug, fixing her hair as she went back to her chair. A quizzical expression sat on Rick's face when their eyes met.

"No funny business, Rick," Shane said. He slapped Rick hard on the shoulder. Both Rick and Christie chuckled at the joke that neither of them actually found funny.

Once Shane was out the door, silence fell between them, Christie knew Rick wanted to know Michonne's whereabouts and Christie wanted to know what was going on.

Sighing, she leaned her elbows on the table and then quickly removed them because of the stickiness from her spilled drink. She cupped her hands in her lap and bit her bottom lip, watching Rick steal glances towards her.

"I've never seen Shane so infatuated before," Rick smiled and Christie shrugged. "He's in love and from what I've heard you two only met this past weekend."

"Maybe there's something in the air. Making strangers fall in love despite themselves and… circumstances." Rick frowned and Christie knew her small dig didn't go unnoticed. She always had a childish want to poke the bear. To see how long before she made an enemy. It was Michonne who never let Christie's invasiveness and immaturity get to her if anything she recognized Christie's proclivity towards self-destruction. Would Rick do the same, she wanted to apologize, but she knew she was going to poke at him again.

"Michonne and I aren't strangers," the lack of patience in his tone and hard stare didn't surprise Christie.

She slowly nodded, "With the exception of last week, Michonne has never mentioned you before. Same graduating class at Yale?"

Rick tilted his head, smirking, "No. She went to Yale?"

"Interesting," she said quietly. What else did he not know about Michonne? She didn't want to think that Michonne, her level-headed, logical, Michonne would throw away a perfectly good relationship for something that purely physical. "Are you not married?"

Rick's jaw clenched, he tapped his finger on the table in a steady rhythm. "We're separated now."

"Separation doesn't mean you're single."

"I'm getting a divorce."

"But have the papers been signed, sealed, and delivered to the court?"

Rick's eyes narrowed, he turned his head to the line that was forming in front of the counter.

"Didn't think so," she continued. Although, Christie noticed that a wedding ring was absent from his hand. Married men take their rings off all the time.

"I get it," Rick said his eyes sweeping back to her. "Like you said, almost two weeks ago, Michonne was in a good place and then things start falling apart for her and it leads back to me. You want answers."

Christie paused, leaning back in her seat, "I have a feeling you won't be able to answer half the questions I have for you. So, just one, well, maybe two."

His blue eyes stared intently at Christie, his gaze unnerving yet not dangerous. Christie smiled, "Do you love her?"

Rick's eyebrow lifted, he pinched his lips and nodded, "Yes."

"Don't you think that if you love someone you would do what is best for them?" She asked, Rick's mouth tighten as the two of them stared at each other. "Michonne's in a mental ward being evaluated as we speak, Rick."

He flinched, his eyes widen and his mouth slightly dropped. You should comfort him. Christie leaned forward, reaching across the table until her soft hand touched the back of Rick's hand. "She's ok and will be released tomorrow, but like you said, everything has been turned upside down for her and it leads back to you."

Rick glared at her, but then his eyes soften and his head hung down. He moved his hand and fiddled with his fingers. He appeared to be thinking, contemplating on his next words.

"I'm not leaving her," he said with quiet confidence. "I can't…"

"You can't because you just can't or you can't because you don't want to?" Christie said with genuinely in her question.

"There is nothing I wouldn't do for her in this world, the other world, nothing. I don't want to lose her, but if she, not you, not Mike or Lori, if Michonne wanted me to leave then I will." His blue eyes seemed to be even bluer to Christie, she didn't see the same obsession she saw with Shane. She saw desperation, but also determination and honesty. "And I may not know or remember where she went to school or other facts about Michonne, but I know her heart, and she knows mine. And we both know being without the other is not what's best for us."

"You need each other," Christie stated. Rick nodded. For once, she was at a loss for words, she felt Rick's intensity gliding towards her from across the table just like she felt Michonne's in the car the other day. She glanced away from him towards the restaurant windows and saw Shane heading towards the door. Her and Rick's little meeting was over. Gazing back at Rick, their eyes met, but it didn't seem like Rick was really looking at her, but instead in his own head.

"Rick," she said softly. "There's nothing you can do about her being in the hospital, but I'm positive she'll be out tomorrow. In the meantime, do you have a place to stay?"

"I was going to a hotel—."

"Forget it, you and…" Christie sighed, "Shane can stay with me. But you have to promise me something?"

Rick squinted, "What?"

"Please don't go searching for her tomorrow or try to visit. I know you left your wife, but Michonne and Mike are still…technically together and she's in a delicate situation. I just ask that you don't try to play hero."

Rick shook his head, "I won't."

Christie smiled, "Cool." She held out her hand and Rick shook it firmly, "Welcome to Atlanta!"

Michonne tossed and turned all night. Sleep didn't come easy for her knowing that Mike knew that she wasn't being faithful to him. How much does he know? How long has he known? Should I just lay the truth on the table or play along for a bit further? Michonne couldn't find a definite answer for any of those questions, therefore, sleep alluded her until the wee hours of the morning when her brain had enough.

Now she groggily muttered under her breath like a kid not wanting to get up for school as she heard heavy knocks on her door and then the knob turning. She closed her eyes tighter hoping that it was just a nurse dropping her off her breakfast, but then the helium voice from yesterday called her name.

"It's a little after eight, we need you to get up now," said Linda; the psychologist that held Michonne's fate in her hands on whether she would leave or not.

Michonne pulled the blanket over her head and turned facing away from Linda.

"Michonne. I'm going to leave the door open, one of the nurses is bringing your breakfast. Eat. My office's room number is 610. I need you there before 9:15."

Michonne didn't respond, she thought about the questions Linda would ask and the appropriate answers to them. She exercised her brain to see this ordeal as a job interview and Michonne always rocked her job interviews.

After a few minutes, she groaned accepting that a few more hours of sleep were not hers to take. She got up from her bed and stretched her aching limbs and brushed her teeth.

For a hospital, there was minimal noise in the hallways. Light chatter came from the nurses' station a few feet away and a woman pleaded for 'Roger' to not leave her in the next room. Michonne walked passed it and saw the woman was on TV, crying dramatically.

Michonne kept going, as she walked further the linoleum flooring stopped and replaced with plush carpeting. Michonne turned a corner and the hallway was wider and office like. She walked until she got to room 610; Michonne poked her head in, Linda sat at her desk, writing in a notebook. The blue file she carried with her yesterday, sat on top of a large pile of assorted folders and papers. A stack of textbooks was being used as a doorstop; Complementary and Alternative Medicine for Psychologists: An Essential Resource was the title of the book on top of the stack.

There were more textbooks and regular books strewn on the floor and placed in four tall bookcases that line up against the wall. Michonne gently knocked on the wall alerting Linda to her presence.

"You're early," Linda said, grinning widely. She closed the notebook and gestured for Michonne to sit on the couch that was in between two of the bookcases. Michonne maneuvered around stacks of books and folders and sat down on the leather couch that squeaked underneath her weight. "I'm sorry for the mess, reorganizing my office is taking longer than I intended," she said.

Michonne only nodded, clasping her hands together and resting them on her knees. Linda did have one bookcase behind her that appeared to be the only one she tidy and alphabetically categorized. The majority of the authors were African-American and based on the titles, the books were an assortment of fiction and non-fiction works.

"How are you feeling today?" Her question grabbing Michonne's attention. Michonne gazed over Linda's attire, she was wearing black capris today and a bright orange, pink and white strappy top. She had her pen and notebook armed and ready to write.

"Tired," Michonne shrugged. At that moment, proving her point she yawned.

"The hospital bedding isn't the most comfortable in the world. You couldn't pay me a million dollars to trade in my foam mattress for the crappy padding they use in this place," she laughed, but Michonne didn't share in her amusement. Linda stopped and eyed Michonne's watchful gaze, both of them engaging in a staring contest in which Michonne won. "How are you mentally feeling?"

Confused yet focus. Michonne gathered all the patience and meditated on getting through today. Andre was at the forefront of her mind and having him in her arms would give her a semblance of control if ever Mike decides to confront her.

"Sound," Michonne said flatly and leaned back on the couch, crossing her right leg under her left thigh. She picked at the bandage on her hand and hoped she could get the stitches taken out soon.

"In between the time I left you yesterday and this morning, have you experience any disorientation and/or loss of time?"

"No."

"In between the time I left you yesterday and this morning, have you experience any hallucinations?"

"No." And Michonne was grateful that her mind was preoccupied with other things that didn't involve the dead or madmen breaking into her community.

Linda hadn't opened up her notebook yet, she sat up in her chair staring intensely at Michonne. Her lips pressed tightly against each other.

"I asked you yesterday that I would repeat some questions to you and that I needed you to be truthful, correct?"

Michonne nodded.

"Well, I'm going to just ask you one," she said, finally opening up her notebook and clicking her pen. "Tell me what happened the other day?"

"I was stress and I guess my breakdown had been building up." Michonne looked at Linda who watched her impassively. She swallowed, licking her lips, Michonne decided to tell Linda half-truths. "Mike proposed to me Friday and…," she paused and let out a shaky breath. "And I wanted to tell him no, but instead I said yes."

"I understand you two have a child together?"

"Yes! Andre Anthony."

"Did you say yes out of obligation to your child?"

Michonne shook her head. "I said yes because I didn't want to admit to myself that I couldn't make us work," she shrugged, her eyes were tearing over.

Linda blinked a few times, "Is there someone else, Michonne?"

Michonne chuckled, thinking of Rick was treacherous because, before she could stop, she saw him lying underneath her whispering words of adoration and devotion. She nodded.

Linda pursed her lips, clicking her pen, she finally began writing in her file. "You can't make it work with Mike because of this other person?" Her tone and body language devoid of judgment made Michonne feel a bit more at ease.

"Maybe. It's hard to explain," Michonne admitted truthfully. That past Friday, Michonne wasn't even sure if Rick existed in this world, yet, she was still hesitant. Michonne, I'm sorry. It happened so fast. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to block it out. That's why she was hesitant, Michonne would never be able to see Mike the same way again, not when her memories of that day in that other world were becoming clearer.

"So that night…"

Michonne opened her eyes and wiped the tear that fell on her cheek, "That night, I felt overwhelmed by the engagement and that someone else. I don't know what happened, really, it's a blur. I remember going outside for air, I remember the musician, and then I remembered feeling guilty. Guilty that I was no longer the woman Mike thought I was and guilty that I could no longer see him without seeing his mistakes." Mistakes he doesn't have a clue he did.

"Michonne, you attacked Mike that night, though. If you feel guilty about your behavior, why were you angry with him?"

Michonne stared blankly at the disorganized books on the shelves behind Linda. Andre. Her beautiful child, her baby that she felt grow in her belly was ripped away from her in the most horrific matter. She blinked back tears, trying to make the image go away.

"Michonne, we can stop now. I think there is more and I want to explore that with you." Michonne heard her, but her helium voice sounded distant.

"I need to go home," she said quietly.

Linda leaned forward, "We have all day today, go back to your room and rest."

Michonne shook her head and stood up, walking to the door, "I'm leaving!"

"You can't—."

Michonne paused by the door, her "job interview" was going south, but she couldn't care less, she just wanted to be with her son and call Rick. She turned to leave as a tall tan man was walking into the room. Michonne put her hands out to stop herself from bumping into him and he grabbed her arms.

"Excuse me," he said. His English accent made his already proper appearance more appealing.

"Jake?" Michonne heard Linda getting up, she wiggled out of Jake's grasp and stepped to the side. "What can I do for you?"

"I was actually looking for her," he pointed to Michonne. Michonne eyebrows furrowed, confused as to why she was needed. "She's free to go."

"What?!" Both Michonne and Linda spoke at the same time. Michonne eyes swept towards Linda who looked flustered.

"Michonne please go back to your room."

"He said I was free to go."

"Linda, it's court ordered."

"But—." Michonne didn't wait another moment, she spun on her heel and practically ran to her room. She knew Christie came through for her and she was elated. With a wide grin on her face, she sped walk back to her room, but just as quickly her smile dissipated when she saw Mike standing at the door. His sullen expression made her dreadful. If Michonne thought she was going to get a break today that thought soon became fleeting as she realized there was another hurdle she needed to jump through.

Michonne rolled down the car windows, letting the sun and air hit her face. Closing her eyes, she calculated that it would take about fifteen minutes to get home. Fifteen minutes of sleep and charge up. She felt Mike move to her left and then heard him take a sip of coffee. A hello, are you okay, and let's go were all Mike said to Michonne, she waited for him to rain down a bunch of questions on her head when they drove away, but for the past five minutes, Mike was silent.

"I don't know whether I should be relieved or worried that you haven't said a word in ten minutes."

Mike chuckled lightly, "Nothing wrong with a little peace and quiet." He glanced over at her, his mouth upturned into a small smile. Mike set his coffee back in the cup holder and grabbed Michonne's knee, squeezing it lightly. "You're tired, rest, we'll be home in a bit."

"Yeah," Michonne leaned against the window and did just that.

As soon as Mike opened the door to their home, Michonne heard her little man. High-pitch screams of excitement and toys crashing came from the living room.

"Peanut!" Michonne yelled Andre's nickname a second time until she heard tiny thunderous footsteps coming towards her. She pressed her back to the wall, hoping to catch him by surprise. But, Mike scooped Andre into his arms and rained kissed on his face.

Rolling her eyes at Mike's blatant attempt to block her from Andre made Michonne want to snatch Andre from him. Andre thrust his arms towards her, demanding to be held. Michonne smiled at her son, weakly, she reached to grab him, but Mike moved towards the kitchen.

"Did Uncle Terry feed you little man?" Mike asked.

Terry.

She wished she could explain to Mike why her heart pounded and her fingers curled into a fist each time his best friend was mentioned or seen. Following behind Mike and Andre, Michonne's more rational side meditated on the fact that Terry wasn't the same person from the past.

"Christie couldn't babysit?" She asked, keeping her voice light and innocent. But Mike's face tighten and he shook his head, a sarcastic chuckle escaping his mouth.

"I called my friend, Andre's godfather, not some fucking assistant," he spat.

Michonne paused while Andre threw his arms out to her, making small grunting noises as he tried to wiggle out of Mike's arms.

"Put him down and talk to me." Keeping her voice as calm as possible despite the volcano inside her on the verge of erupting, Michonne placed her hand on Mike's arm and pleading with him with her eyes. Andre grew restless and more vocal in Mike's arms, he wiggled harder, no longer reaching for Michonne, but instead his toys on the floor.

"Guys." Terry appeared from the hallway tossing his backpack over his shoulder. "I gotta go," he continued. "We hanging out later?"

Mike frowned, mulling over shots with buddies or fighting with her weighed heavily on his mind. He kissed Andre on the forehead and much to Andre's delight, he sat him down on the floor.

"We are, but I'll call you if things change." Mike and Terry did their handshake, Terry went over to Andre, but hesitated, glancing towards Michonne. She didn't say anything and she tried to keep her face neutral, but Terry smiled weakly and walked to the front door.

Bye Michonne," he said quietly.

"Bye."

Andre ambled to her, his hands grabbing onto her legs. Michonne picked him up, hugging him tightly and kissing him on his soft face and hands, she didn't want to let him go. "I missed you so much peanut." Tears stung her eyes, she wanted to stop them, but they began falling onto her cheeks. The warmth of his small body gave her the comfort she needed. "You gonna give mommy a kiss?" Andre nodded and pursed his lips, he leaned forward and gave Michonne a sloppy kiss on the cheek. She laughed, giving him more kisses until he started to protest.

Michonne eyes met with Mike, he looked solemnly at her and then shook his head. He sat down on the couch and Michonne sat down on another side of it with Andre, she grabbed one of Andre's toy train and began playing with it.

"Tawmas," Andre said. Grabbing the train from Michonne's hands and then driving it across Michonne's chest.

"Thomas! Where's Percy?" She asked, Andre's response was a shake of his head and then focusing back on Thomas the train.

Rubbing her hands through his hair, she mused over how calm her son made her feel, only one other person had that effect on her, but he was miles away. Michonne groaned and Andre mimicked her, forcing her to laugh.

"Don't mock mommy."

"Mock mommy!"

Michonne tickled Andre's stomach and under his arms, his riotous laughter filling up the tensed room. She stopped, giving her son time to catch his breath. This was good, but it'd be even better if Rick was with us. She hadn't spoken with him since early Monday morning and she had a feeling Rick was probably beside himself.

Mike flipped to a channel where Serena Williams was playing. Her opponent didn't stand a chance, she was running all over the place, missing serves and becoming increasingly frustrated.

"Is my phone somewhere in here?" Michonne asked.

Mike's furrowed eyebrows drew in even more, his eyes focused on the tennis match.

"Mike?" She said with more force in her tone.

"I bought you a new phone, it's in our room," he flipped to another channel where cartoon puppies were running around.

"Paw Control!" Andre yelled out, Mike changed the channel, but it was too late. Andre demanded that Mike turned back to his show. Michonne smiled as Andre hopped off her lap and stood in front of the TV, but her smile falter, she felt exposed.

"Why do I have a new phone?"

"You broke the other one."

They stewed in silence, watching the cartoon with Andre, but neither enjoying it. Michonne rolled her shoulders and stood up, Andre was preoccupied and she needed a shower. She walked past Mike and went to her bedroom. Her new phone sat on the nightstand, turning it on, Michonne noticed that Mike set up her phone. She scrolled through her contacts, all was there except for one. Rick's number is missing. Her stomach churned, she felt like her insides were quivering as she was faced with more proof that Mike knew. Dropping her cell on the bed, Michonne ambled to the bathroom and shut the door behind her. Why hasn't he said anything? If the roles were reversed she would have said something, anything to get the truth out of him. Simply ignoring the giant elephant between them only made Michonne worry more.

Michonne hopped into the shower, cleaning her body, but unable to cleanse her mind. Once done, Michonne wrapped herself in a towel and opened the door, startled to see Mike sitting on the bed. She swallowed, her eyes darted from him to their bedroom door that was slightly a jarred, Andre made choo choo noises from the living room, she and Mike were essentially alone.

Michonne quickly put on her underwear and a bra while Mike sat on the bed, his head in his hands. She grabbed a shirt and put it on as well, her stomach turning in knots because Mike's silence was damning.

Dressed with the exception of shoes, Michonne bit her lip, there was no point to holding it in any longer.

"I'm calling off the engagement," he spoke, his voice tearful.

"I'm sorry Mike," she kneeled down beside him and placed her hands on his knees. Tears fell down her face, "I really am sorry." He turned his face away from her and stared emptily at the wall.

"Why?"

Michonne coughed, blinking away the tears in her eyes that kept gathering, "I can't explain it without sounding crazy."

"Then try."

She paused, thinking of where to start, but for a lawyer, she couldn't articulate what happened. Mike sighed heavily and got up, moving around Michonne. She looked up and saw he held his hand out but wouldn't meet her gaze.

"The ring."

Confused for a moment, Michonne quickly understood what he wanted and removed the engagement ring, Mike gave her only a few days before. She placed it his hand, he viewed it, twirling the ring around and then stuck in his pocket.

"Michonne." He finally met her eye, his eyes were hard, determined. "I'm not giving up on us," he declared.

Michonne swallowed, "I think you have to," she whispered.

Mike scoffed and shook his head, he then walked out of the room. Michonne's lip quivered and then she sighed and then the tears fell again. She hunched over until her she was lying on the floor, she drew her knees into her chest and gave in to her sadness. Michonne couldn't comprehend the dueling emotions inside her; she loved Mike so much that she felt shame for breaking his heart, but the dreams, the memories were too strong. Every time she looked upon him, even for the briefest moment, she saw him dead, jawless, armless, and her dragging him around in chains.

"Mommy." Michonne looked towards the door, Andre moseyed over, his toy train in hand and laid down with her on the floor. Their faces mere inches from each other, Michonne studied his plump little lips, cute button nose, and his brown eyes that focused on Thomas the train. She rested her hand on his back and felt his breathing. Her perfect little boy. She kissed his soft cheek and wiped her face. A new sense of hope flowed through her veins, her boy was alive and at the end of the day, that's all that matter.

Christie had call Michonne, asking her urgently to head to the law firm. Mike was gone, more than likely with Terry and Michonne was okay with that, she had Andre. Michonne walked into her law firm with Andre in her arms, most of the employees were heading out for the day, and she saw the custodians walking about getting ready to start their night shift. After greeting some of the secretaries and security staff, she went to her office. She sat Andre down on the floor near her desk and dug through the diaper bag, grabbing all of his toys.

"We're only going to be here for a few minutes, ok baby?" Andre reached for a toy car that was in Michonne's hand, she smiled knowing that Andre couldn't care less. A knock on her door, made Michonne spun around to see Spencer.

"Hi. I hope I'm not interrupting," he came in, carrying papers with him. His face was red and his hands were shaking.

Michonne met him half way, concerned, she grabbed his upper arm to stop him, "Are you okay"

"I umm, I have some papers for you to sign, Mr. Tracinski is taking over Merle's case from you." Zach Tracinski was a capable lawyer, but he was known to settle cases, not win them, but what could she do, Michonne was in no shape mentally to be a lawyer, she needed a break. She grabbed the papers and set them on the desk. When she turned around, Spencer was right behind her, making her bump into his chest. "I have to tell you something. Not here, though."

Michonne chuckled awkwardly, "I doubt my son is going to care what you have to say."

"Please," he pleaded.

Michonne frowned, but nodded, "Just for a moment."

Andre was still preoccupied with his toys, Michonne closed the door behind her and followed Spencer down one of the hallways.

The vacuum humming in the lobby area covered the sound of Rick's footsteps. He wiped the sweat from his brow, rubbing the secretion on his jeans. The hallway expanded into another lobby, only much smaller, there were large windows on the opposite side looking out towards the sun setting over the Atlanta skyline and another hallway leading to who knows where. Straight in front of him was the receptionist desk where no one sat, he walked up to it and drum his fingers on the cherry wood furniture. Glancing at the two doors on either side of him, deciding which one he would knock on first.

Time was of the essence, Christie had promised him that Michonne would be here albeit only for a brief period. Rick smoothed his black button up down and walked to the door to his left. His stomach rumbled from a combination of hunger and nerves, it's only been a few days since he saw Michonne, but for him, it felt like weeks. Separation was no longer a viable option for him, they needed to be together, that's how they'll survive, that's how they'll figure things out; together.

Squeaky laughter from the other room halted his steps, he turned and faced the door to his left and listened for any more noise. Someone was moving around in that room, he heard a thump and then the excited squeal of a child. Rick's heart panged, the child's voice grew louder as he shouted and another thump this time against the wall could be heard. Could it be? Rick always wondered what Michonne's baby looked like, whether he had Michonne's expressive brown eyes or her smile, whether he was a splitting image of her or Mike. He knocked softly on the door and his mouth upturned into a wide grin. Rick felt like he was moments away from witnessing a miracle, in another world, the little boy on the other side of the door was gone, but in this world, alive and well and now knocking on the other side of the door.

Rick turned the knob, relieved that it wasn't locked, he opened it further and a small child appeared through the crack. He does have his mother's eyes. Rick smiled, "May I come in?"

"What is it?" Michonne stopped Spencer, they had walked far enough from her office, the distance making her uneasy. Her gaze swept over Spencer's pale face, sweat dripped off his nose falling onto his tie. Michonne stepped back, anticipating the contents of Spencer's stomach to spill out on the floor. "Spencer?"

"They found Daryl." He sighed. He covered his mouth, not quickly enough for Michonne to miss seeing his quivering lips.

"He's dead?" It wasn't a question, just a matter-of-fact statement. Spencer's look was familiar to Michonne, she's seen it over a dozen times in her other life, a look she was sure she wore on her own when she had to be the deliverer of bad news.

"Yeah, yeah." Spencer's jaw slacken, his eyes dull. "Umm. He, he was shot. Tied up and shot."

Michonne touched his arm, letting him know she didn't need to know more. "Has Merle been told?" Despite Merle's numerous shortcomings, he loved his brother and his brother loved him. Guilt gnawed at her heart like a parasite trying to weaken her decision to not move forward as Merle's representative.

Spencer's eyes pinched tightly shut and he shook his head. His shoulders drooped and he sighed, "I can't. Merle scares me."

His confession did not surprise Michonne, she gave his arm a squeeze, the color in his face yet to make a reappearance. This was probably the most jarring moment in his young life even though he was only a third party. Michonne pity Spencer, but her frown turned up into a gentle smile as she led him to the couch.

"You tell Zach that I will let Merle know about his brother's death." Spencer sat down, putting his head in his hands. Michonne patted his back eying the wastebasket by the receptionist desk. Her eyes were then drawn to the clock with each tick of the hand increased the chances of Andre getting himself into trouble. "Spencer, I need to grab Andre and then I'll come back and sit with you."

Spencer leaned back in his seat, sighing and rubbing his legs. "I'll be okay." He flashed a weak smile and patted his chest. He wasn't okay, but the conversation will have to be tabled for another day.

"Goodnight then." Another squeeze on the arm and a short wave goodbye, Michonne sped walk back to her office.

Daryl was dead, murdered.

Her stomach twisted into knots, something wasn't right. From the brief conversation she had with Daryl, he seemed decent, only had minor scrapes with the law and those scrapes were because he followed behind his older brother. When Merle was away he led a quiet life.

It felt like Quasimodo was ringing the church bells inside her head alerting her to wake up. Something was wrong. But, now wasn't the time to play Nancy Drew, she tried, but she needed to put herself first. She needed her son and she needed Rick.

Michonne opened her office door quickly and stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes widen and she thought she could feel her heart in her throat.

"Hey, pretty lady," Rick smiled warmly at her, sitting in one of her chairs with Andre, peacefully in his lap.

Michonne clutched her stomach, the sight before her felt as if she was dreaming. How many times did dreamed about this moment in that other world? How many times have she looked at Rick as he talked with Carl or played with Judith and thought about him being a father to Andre. He stood up, holding Andre on his hip and held out his hand to her.

"Rick." She wiped the tears from her face and tried to stop her lip from quivering, her hand slipped into his and she felt complete.

"Mommy, crying."

Rick and Michonne laughed, "I'm okay, peanut."

"Peanut!" Rick exclaimed, "I couldn't remember his nickname so I've been calling him 'pumpkin' for the past minute."

Michonne chortled, "And I bet he looked at you like you were crazy."

Rick nodded, "yeah, yeah he did." Rick moved his arm around Michonne's lower back, she rested her head on his chest and smiled watching Andre touch Rick's nose and mouth, studying him as if he was a new toy. Rick bent down and kissed her forehead. "Are you okay? Christie told me what happened."

"I'm great now. I was about to ask you how you found me, but Christie…"

"Mmhmm."

She gazed at him, his lips curling up as their eyes met. Michonne turned so that her whole body faced him and reached up to him. Her lips grazing his, he held her waist tighter, making her feel safe, secure. And seeing Andre in his arms calmed her, for the first time today, she felt she was making the right decisions. Rick kissed her lips and slowly dipped his tongue in her mouth, her tongue greeting his. Fervently they kissed, Michonne shivered from excitement as she brought a shaky hand to his face. A low throaty growled parted from Rick's lips which made Michonne pull back. Her eyes swept over to her son, who stared at her inquisitively.

"We should save that for later," she said nodding towards Andre. Rick smiled, he kissed her again on the forehead and slid his hand away from her.

Michonne gathered Andre's toys from the floor and put them in the diaper bag, zipping it closed, Andre's laughter drew her attention. Rick was spinning him around making airplane noises while Andre screamed with delight. For the first time in a long time, Michonne felt complete.

Everything will be okay.

AN: Reunited again! No more separation, but now the real drama begins. :D