Declarations

Part 2: Claimed

Daryl had never seen a woman tear into squirrel meat the way Sasha had the night before in front of their campfire. She damned right savored it. They'd been talking about what could have happened to everyone and whether or not the bus she found was their bus when the conversation came to a dead stop. He chuckled to himself as he thought of it now. He handed her the branch with the meat still smoking and sizzling, and Sasha's mouth dropped. No words came. He swore he felt her inhale the scent. If he hadn't warned her it was too hot to eat, he knew she would've burned her mouth and tongue right then.

It would've been a shame, too. Sasha had a pretty mouth.

Daryl's steps faltered. Where the hell had that come from?

"What is it?" she asked, a few steps ahead of him. "Walkers?"

"Nah." He shook his head. "Nothing."

He adjusted the bag on his shoulder and set the crossbow on his back just right. Not that it hadn't been fine a minute ago. He had to do something to get his mind off her tongue and shit.

"What the hell?" he muttered under his breath.

"You okay?" she asked, waiting for him to catch up.

"Fine."

He avoided her eyes. He wasn't sure if his thoughts were showing on his face. Carol used to say he was too closed off, but Merle read him like a book. He sensed that others could, too, at times. He figured thinking about Sasha that way was natural. Sex. That sort of thing. He respected her. She was a fighter. Kinda bossy. Served on Council well. A little distant, but shit, who wasn't?

As Daryl reached her, they fell into step together again. They followed the rail tracks, hoping it would lead them to a town. Someplace to hole up. The nights were getting colder and they could do for some supplies. Maybe they'd run into their crew.

"I didn't say thank you," Sasha said, after a few miles down the track.

Daryl looked at her. He'd been thinking about what they'd do if a town didn't appear soon. Maybe following the tracks had been a bad idea. Maybe the road would have been better.

"I'm talking about the squirrel," she added. "I just wolfed it down. My mama raised me right. I have manners, you know. Thanks, Daryl."

He frowned. "You don't have to thank me for that."

"I want to." She gave him a faint, rare smile. "I want you to know I appreciate it."

"You gonna start slobbering on me again?" He wanted to keep it light, but inside, he was starting to feel warm. The way she was looking at him made him feel special.

She grinned for a half second. "I might."

"Aw, shit."

They both laughed.

Minutes later, another thought came to Daryl. He stopped again and knew Sasha would do the same.

"We just got up and started walking, but what if we could find Maggie and Bob?"

She frowned. "It was a bad fog. I don't know which way I came out of it." She dug into her pocket and pulled out a compass. "It's broken. I should've tossed it, but…"

He looked back the way they'd come. The sun wasn't too high in the sky. Dew still clung to the leaves. Backtracking now wouldn't put them too far behind, but hell; it wasn't like they were on any kind of schedule anyway.

"Whatever you wanna do," she said, pocketing the compass.

Daryl considered the pros and cons. Had he tried to find their trail yesterday when Sasha found him, maybe this would be a bright idea. But he remembered the other voices he'd heard. He didn't want to risk picking up the wrong scent and tracking them straight into an ambush. After a minute or two, he shook his head.

"Nah, we'd better not."

By noon, he was reconsidering the advantages of the road versus the track. Sasha was starting to lag a bit, but he could tell she didn't want him to know. She straightened her shoulders whenever he looked in her direction. He nodded toward the trees.

"Need a break," he said. "What about you?"

"Yeah," she said with a sigh.

They parted at an oak. Daryl answered the call of nature behind a row of bushes while listening out for Sasha. He finished quickly and was relieved to find her already waiting for him by the large tree.

"I'd love to refill this bottle." She showed him that she only had a few swallows left of water.

"Might be a creek back in here."

He took the lead. His gaze scanned the forest floor, looking for telltale signs of small animals and nearby watering holes. Eventually, he found what he was looking for.

"Start gathering twigs," he told her.

Daryl moved a few paces ahead. She took up the rear and to his surprise, her steps were as quiet as his. He spotted a grove of pecan trees and not too far ahead was a small pond. A flicker of movement caught his attention and he grew still. Sasha was so close that he felt her heat on his back. He held out his arm to keep her in place.

He squinted his eyes to zero-in on the bushes that fluttered. It could've been a buck, but Daryl wasn't sure. He motioned for her to stay behind him. Using the forest as cover, he tried to edge closer, but a clearing caught him up short. He waved for Sasha to step back. He followed and they squatted down.

"What is it?" she whispered.

"Ssh."

Daryl waited. If it was a buck, he had it and they were eating good tonight. Still, he had a cagey feeling in his gut. Something told him to be wary. He kept his eyes peeled. Then he saw them. Two men about average build were moving through the trees. Daryl couldn't tell if they were on the hunt, pissing, or fucking. They were just there. He wished he knew if they were the assholes from before or if there were more. If he was alone, it wouldn't matter. He could deal, but he had Sasha. That changed everything.

He motioned for her to go back and hoped she wouldn't say anything. To her credit, she just crawled like he told her to. Once they were in a thicket, he stood and pointed for them to get out.

"Hey!"

Fuck.

Daryl considered pretending a bout of deafness. Sasha stiffened behind him, but he knew she'd follow his lead.

"Hey, ya'll!"

Shit, Daryl thought. Walkers loved noise. Didn't these dumbasses know this?

He turned around and saw that the two men were several yards away. If they had weapons, Daryl couldn't tell from this distance, but he didn't let that sway him.

Before Sasha moved, he caught her wrist. Her eyes widened as they met his. What?

"If they ask, you're mine."

$%^&

Michonne had spent a lot of time not thinking about Rick finding her in the bathtub. They were adults. She knew hers wasn't the first nude female body he'd seen, but the few times thoughts had snuck in, she wondered how much of her nude body had he seen. His blue eyes had grown bright and the red underneath his tanned face had reminded her of Christmas lights in the mall. Later, they avoided the topic as they enjoyed Carl's small haul of soup and sardines. Occasionally, their eyes would meet and something fluttered in her lower belly.

As they settled down together that first night, she smiled at Carl as he prepared the recliner for her. Out of nowhere, Rick shuffled behind her and said against her ear, "He's kinda happy you found us."

The sensation started again. She pressed her hand against her abdomen as she nodded.

She sensed him pause. Half of her wanted to turn and face him, but she feared what would happen. The truth was she was damn happy to have found them, too.

Carl finished tucking the sheet in just so and plumping the pillow. He handed it to her. "Here. Want a blanket?"

"The sheet should be enough," she said.

She kicked off her boots and set the katana within arm's reach. It had never taken her so long to sit before, but she wasn't quite ready to turn and face them. Well, not them. Rick. She could still feel his heat on her back and his eyes burning into her. There always seemed to be something else on the tip of his tongue, but the words never came. Carl's youthful enthusiasm usually filled the gap and it was doing so again, but still. She couldn't use the numerous tasks at the prison to avoid whatever wasn't said. The prison was gone. And here she was alone with the Grimes men. This time it wasn't a dream or a forbidden moment of what if. It was real.

"Michonne?" Carl's voice was insistent as if he'd called her several times. "I swear it's clean."

"What?" She turned and settled on the recliner. As she did so, the frown on Carl's forehead smoothed. Rick remained silent and his gaze stayed steady. She pushed the recliner back until it was more comfortable. "What're you talking about?"

"The sheets," Carl said. "Never mind."

"You're not staying on the floor?" she asked him.

"I don't mind." He glanced at his father and at the door. "We're all together."

"There's room on the sofa," Rick said, sliding over. He winced once and held his side. With his other hand, he patted the empty space. "Get up here. Michonne's right. Plenty of room."

"Dad"

"Now, Carl."

She bit back a smile as Carl groaned and obeyed his dad. The sigh of contentment that escaped gave him away and they all laughed. Once again, she found her gaze connecting with Rick's. Flickering candlelight made his expression unreadable, but just knowing that he found the need to connect with her was a powerful tug on her emotions. After bottling the hell of the past few years up and finally unleashing it all, she wasn't quite sure what to do with this pull to Rick.

Prior to the awakening in the forest, she would have continued to ignore it on a conscious level, but she didn't want to be that person anymore with her katana swinging while her head was metaphorically buried in the sand. And if she was completely honest, it wasn't just Rick who drew her in. Carl had a hold of her, too. She couldn't let herself be afraid to feel anymore. She had to let her guard down. Learning how would be the tricky part.

"Michonne?"

"Ssh, Carl. She's probably asleep."

"No, I'm not," she said. "What's up?"

"You were so quiet," Rick murmured. "You okay over there?"

"Cozy enough," she said. "Recliners are the best."

"Is it a La-Z-Boy?" he asked.

"A what?" Carl asked.

She laughed. "It's a brand. No, I don't know. I'll tell you in the morning."

She pulled the sheet to her chin and curled on her side. Her chair had been angled to face the sofa. A strong current of peace settled over her as she watched them find comfortable positions. Soon, even breathing signaled that either one or both of them had succumbed to slumber. It struck her that being with them felt right and she was more in harmony with herself than she had been in a very long time.

"Michonne?"

Rick's raspy voice carried softly in the darkness. She quickened at the sound of his Southern drawl. Even battle weary, he spoke with authority and a strange hint of trepidation.

"Yeah," she said.

"G'night."

"Good night, Rick."

A pointy elbow nudged Michonne's side and pulled her from her musings. She looked to her right and found Carl's questioning blue eyes peering at her. Heat rushed to her face and she was grateful that her skin tone hid the telltale signs of an embarrassing blush. She met the boy's hard stare with a fake frown.

"What?"

"You got quiet," he said.

"I got what?" She found the observation amusing. No one had ever accused her of being a chatterbox. Still, she and Carl had a certain vibe. She'd told Rick that she was done taking breaks and meant it. Her fog had lifted, but that didn't make her a jabbermouth.

"You kinda went someplace else," Rick said, slowing down to fall into step on her left side. "Thought you were sleep walking."

Considering her thoughts had been on him and that first night back with them, she wasn't ready with a response or an easy quip. Instead, she just shrugged. Although her gaze remained on the train tracks that lay before them, she sensed his gaze linger. Again. She also knew the moment he redirected his attention to the trail. But unlike before, he didn't walk ahead of her and Carl. This time, Rick stayed in step with Michonne and it felt right, being there between father and son.

"Hope we come on a town soon," Carl said.

"Tired?" she asked.

He shrugged.

"There's a water tower up ahead," Rick said. "Probably a town."

"We don't have to stop," Carl said. "We're still going to that place, right?"

"Terminus," Rick said. He glanced at Michonne.

"It was the plan," she replied, responding to his unanswered question.

"Yeah," Rick said quietly.

Picking up on his mood, she asked, "You changed your mind? Think it's like Woodbury?"

Rick frowned, shrugging. "It's hard to know. Can't go in unprepared."

"No—"

"But what if the others are there?" Carl asked. "What if they saw the signs, too?"

"They could be," she answered.

"You think it's stupi—"

"I never said that," Michonne cut in. "Never. They could be there, but your dad is right. We don't know the place or the people. Checking in up here wouldn't be a bad thing. If there's a place to sleep instead of outside…"

"Get our bearings before we go in," Rick said.

Carl nodded, but he didn't say anything else about it. Michonne looked at the boy to gauge him. He had closed himself off. His mouth was drawn and his eyes were distant. Rick touched her shoulder and squeezed.

After leaving the two-story house with the white picket fence in a hurry, their days had been spent walking and their nights had been watchful as they lay out in the open. Rick had confided in Michonne about the men who had discovered their hideout and her clothing. He hadn't gone into details about their plans for her, but from the darkness that filled his eyes, she could guess.

The trek had been hard on all of them. Their home at the prison had softened them. A roof over their heads and a bed to sleep in had made them forget what it had been like in the very beginning. The sudden destruction of everything they held dear was a good reminder as was these long daily walks. Michonne understood Carl's quiet and his need to hope for the others' survival, but like the unspoken message between her and Rick, they didn't want to get his hopes up. If need be, the three of them would make it out there together. They would start over again.

$%^&

Sasha prided herself on being an independent woman and taking care of herself. Then the world went to shit and she found out just how capable she was. Having Daryl make his little declaration struck a nerve. Her first inclination was to act out. Immediately. He must have read something in her eyes because his narrowed into slits as he glared at her.

"Don't," he muttered under his breath.

Before she could respond, the other men had closed the distance and were only a few feet away. Even without Daryl saying anything, she sensed that their speed unnerved him. Tension rolled off him. He stood coiled like a snake with his body set blocking hers from the men's view.

She readied her stick in her hand. It was good for walkers, so maybe the weapon could serve the same purpose on the living. Too bad her rifle was low on ammo. At this point, the firearm was more an accessory than a tool. As the men stepped closer, Daryl took another step in front of her. She peered over his shoulder and saw two dirty white men. One was tall, brunette, and appeared to be in his early thirties. The other was a little shorter with blonde shoulder-length hair. Both carried tire irons.

"Hey," the tall one said.

Daryl nodded once.

"Y'all lost?" asked the blonde with a laugh.

"Shut up," the tall one said. "Do you have a camp nearby?"

Daryl shrugged.

"I get it," the tall one said, "a lot of crazy assholes out here. Ours is a half mile east."

"They don't care—"

"If y'all need a place, we have some room," the tall one said. "I'm Lorenzo. That's Clay."

"Daryl. This is Sasha."

Lorenzo nodded in greeting. Clay stepped forward and looked them both up and down, his gaze lingering on Sasha.

"We gon' be on our way," Daryl said.

Something snapped. Loud grunts and squeals followed. They turned in the direction of the noise. Lorenzo and Clay nodded at each other.

"We got 'em!" Clay said before he disappeared into the foliage.

Lorenzo indicated for them to follow. "We spotted a wild boar a few nights ago and set a trap. We either got it or something else. Y'all welcome to join us."

"How many?" Daryl asked.

"Me, Clay, my sister-in-law, and my nephew are at the camp," he said. "My brother and Clay's cousin are out scavenging. It's a few of us, but we do alright, I guess."

Sasha touched Daryl's shoulder, and he turned to look at her. She got a good vibe from Lorenzo. She wasn't sure about Clay, but these people were offering to share food and shelter. Turning that down didn't seem like a smart idea. She nodded at Daryl.

"Sounds like you have a good bunch," she said.

"We're okay," Lorenzo answered. "At first, it was just me and my family. Then we met up with a few others that included Clay and Nash. Now, it's just the six of us."

"Y'all spare the room?" Daryl asked. He and Sasha followed at a measured pace. His posture still indicated lack of trust and a preparedness to protect if necessary.

"You'll see," Lorenzo said. "Look, I'm no saint, but I'm not a jackass either. If you need a spot, come on. Dawn'll be happy to see Sasha, that's for sure."

"Don?" Daryl frowned.

"Dawn, my sister-in-law. She's been stuck with guys for…well, for awhile," Lorenzo said. "She'd liked the female companionship."

"What about Clay?" Daryl asked. "He better not try nothin'."

"He won't. It's obvious you're together," Lorenzo said. "He's not fool enough to mess with another man's woman."

$%^&

Rick had taken note of the clouds forming overhead. He hoped the storm would move north and bypass them, but given their luck, the clouds only darkened and hung in wait. The water tower was further than he'd guessed. Michonne had entertained Carl with the age-old debate of Batman vs. Superman and to her credit, his son pulled free of his funk. A few times, Rick had caught the smile in her eyes and found himself staring longer than he had a right to. If she found his behavior strange, she didn't let on. It was one of the many things he appreciated about her.

Fat droplets teased them with a sporadic cadence. Carl piped in with the last word, "Kryptonite!" just as Rick spotted an abandoned railcar not too far down the track.

"There!" he pointed.

The word left him seconds before a loud thunderclap shook the ground. The trio raced for the railcar with surprising speed considering their lack of nourishment. Rick had his firearm and knife ready for walkers, lying in wait. Michonne reached the car first.

She called back, "Clear."

The open car was a godsend. They climbed inside and stood in the open doorway. The clouds hadn't made good on its threat, but the afternoon sky was fast turning to night. Rick glanced at Michonne.

"It's not bad," she said.

"Stuffy," Carl complained.

"Could be worse," Rick said.

The railcar was on the small side, but big enough for them. For shelter, it worked. They were dry and wouldn't have to sleep on the ground. Of course, he'd prefer a mattress or even a worn out sofa, but now that the downpour was starting to hit, he couldn't begrudge this box of stainless steel.

They slipped off their packs. Carl flipped on his small flashlight while Michonne searched her bag for the candles they found a day or so ago. Once she produced the round ball of wax, Rick knelt beside her with a lighter. Carl put his flashlight away as the flickering light illuminated the small corner of the car. Rick headed back to the open doorway as Carl removed cans of food from his bag.

Although he hadn't heard her approach, Rick knew that Michonne had followed him. She released a soft sigh as they watched the rain create a wall between them inside the car and the world outside of it. The metal roof pounded with a crazy drum riff. The idea of a heavy metal solo made Rick smile.

"What?" she asked softly.

He shook his head. "Nothing."

"No, c'mon," she said. "Give it up, Grimes."

He pointed. "What does that sound like?"

She frowned as she looked up. "Rain?"

"No, listen."

She shook her head. "I don't hear it."

He took a step toward her. He noticed that her eyes widened, but she didn't move. Anticipation coiled between them. Yearning crept over him. He swallowed hard. In a voice that he barely recognized, he said, "Close your eyes and just…listen."

Her dark eyes stared a few moments longer. It wasn't that she refused to obey, he decided. She was searching and he wasn't quite sure for what. He was on the verge of asking when she murmured, "Okay," and followed his bidding.

Rick had watched her sleep before, but this was different. Her eyes were closed and he knew that she was highly attuned to everything. Yet, without her questioning gaze locked on him, he had the freedom to enjoy her beauty. He wondered if she knew how stunning she was. So often, she used her features to enact a wall, but when she softened… God, she was a vision.

"Is it something specific?"

"Hmm?" he asked.

"The…thing?" She gestured with her hand, pointing toward the railcar's ceiling.

In his unrestrained perusal of her, he had forgotten his initial request. He scratched his temple. What was it? The rain? The roof? What?

"Rick?" she asked.

"You still don't hear it?" he asked. He remembered now. He wanted her to hear the beat.

"Sounds like rain beating the hell out of tin."

"Forget it," he said, humor in his tone.

She opened her eyes. A teasing light danced in the dark brown orbs. A grin played at her full lips. "Sorry."

"No, you're not."

She shook her head. "I'm not."

"Dinner's ready," Carl said.

They shared cans of beans, corn, and SPAM around the flickering candlelight. Laughter and conversation helped them ignore the cold meal and cooler air that the rainfall had produced. Afterward, the empty cans and wire created a makeshift alarm system for walkers. Rick offered no protest when Michonne volunteered for first watch. He wasn't surprised when his son insisted on sharing part of it with her. Happier times filled his dreams until the familiar groans awakened him.

Michonne stood near the opening with her katana in hand. He pulled his knife free of his belt and joined her.

"Can you tell how many?" he whispered.

"No," she said. "The moonlight isn't consistent. Clouds keep moving in and out."

"Maybe they'll keep going."

"That's why I didn't wake you or Carl," she said. "A couple came by first. I can't tell if something spooked this bunch or it's one of those random herds."

"Closing the door will make noise."

"Yep."

Rick sighed. Of course, she would have thought of that. He heard Carl roll over in his sleep. They hadn't had shelter like this since the two-story house. The hard floor of an old boxcar wasn't as good as the sofa at the house, but this was a damn sight better than sleeping out in the open. The nights they had camped outside none of them had gotten rest. He didn't want them to leave until morning, if then.

Minutes flowed like molasses. Either this was a big herd or he was impatient. Yet, he and Michonne remained vigilant and still. Finally, the last three shuffled by. He waited until more time had passed before he tried the door. It moved with effort. He didn't close the door all the way. There was enough room for air to circulate, but for nothing to come in without considerable disturbance. Once done, he told Michonne that he'd take over watch.

The next morning, they got an early start. The water tower was still the goal and Rick wanted to reach it by noon. He abstained from the day's debate of She-Hulk vs. Wonder Woman and simply enjoyed listening to the sounds of their banter. Little mud clung to the tracks. Even as the sun crept higher, a chill lingered in the air.

Rick shrugged off his jacket and extended it to Michonne. "You should put this on."

She took the coat and handed it to Carl. "Put this on."

"I'm good," the boy said. "You're only wearing a shirt."

"I'm fine. You should wear it."

"You've been shivering all morning," Rick said. "Wear it."

"But Carl—"

"He's wearing two shirts," Rick said.

"You're only in the t-shirt," she argued.

"Yeah, the brisk air feels good," he said. "Wear the jacket, Michonne."

She stopped and they did, too. Carl held her bags and katana while slid the jacket on. They waited for her to adjust her weapon and bags around the new attire before they started back on the tracks.

"Just until we get to town. I'll find my own jacket," she said. "You'll get this back."

"I know."

Another hour of walking and the first stretch of abandoned buildings appeared. They left the rail tracks to follow the muddy road into town. Rick half expected tumbleweeds to blow down the street. When he was a kid, he used to daydream about ghost towns. It was hard to believe that this was now his reality.

Some of the stores had been heavily looted, but they managed to salvage more necessary supplies such as toothpaste, toothbrushes, deodorant, and soap. In a bar, they found pretzels, pickled wieners, and water. Carl pointed out a store that had a faded advertisement for clothes on the door. Shadows moved past the window.

"Gotta stock up for winter," Rick said, slipping his knife from his belt.

"Let's do it." Michonne had her katana ready.

"Okay," Carl said with his gun in hand.

Rick took point. A glance into the window revealed that clothes and shoes hadn't been completely looted. Walkers wandered aimlessly until they noticed them at the door. Michonne dropped her bag and indicated that she'd go around back. Carl stayed with Rick and the two went in.

The trio's practiced teamwork enabled them to make quick, clean sweep of the cluster of walkers. Michonne was just slicing the heads of the last two when a side door opened and a couple of humans joined the fray. She almost sliced them but she caught herself in time.

"Hey!" A bald man raised his bat in defense.

Rick and Carl cocked their guns. "Don't," Rick said. "Put it down."

"Aaron, listen to 'em," the other man with short dark hair spoke up. "We're good."

Michonne moved to stand near Rick and Carl. No one put the weapons away.

"For shit's sake, we should be fighting the living dead, not each other. I'm Lee. That's Aaron. I guess he think he's Hank Aaron, but without the permanent tan."

Rick waited for Aaron to lower the bat before he holstered his gun. Michonne grabbed her bag from outside and began looking through the clothing racks. Carl remained at her side. Rick maintained his position closer to the two strangers. He took note of how the men watched them. He knew they were trying to understand their relationship.

"We were looking for winter gear and got ambushed," Aaron said. "Fought 'em off real good until they backed us into the storeroom. Then y'all showed up."

"Good thing, too," Lee added. "Didn't want to be stuck in there all night. Usually with them one becomes two…two becomes five. You know what I mean."

"Yeah," Rick said.

"Y'all took 'em out, no joke," Aaron said. "That sword is serious business."

"Whose she?" Lee asked, his gaze following the shopping pair until he focused on Rick.

"Michonne. I'm Rick. That's Carl."

Aaron shook his head. "Nah, is she yours?"

Rick nodded, his jaw set. "She's mine."

[A/N: Thanks for the awesome response! The reviews, follows, and favorites are appreciated. I'll warn you now that there may be a few intentional inconsistencies (i.e. the compass) but bear with me and I hope you'll enjoy the journey anyway. If you read my GH fics, you may recognize a few names and yep, they're coming along for the ride. They won't completely inhabit their GH personas. He's not a prince in this one, but he'll still be a fantastic, wonderful guy. lol! This chapter needed to cover a lot so it was longer than usual. I hope that future chapters won't be. And to make sure that I stick to that, future chapters will be written according to couple. Richonne will have a chapter. Dasha will have a chapter. There may be a few times where I'll combine the happenings like in the first two chapters, but starting with Part 3, to keep the page numbers down, the chapters will be group specific. As always, thanks for reading and I truly enjoy hearing from you. Please feel free to comment, review, etc. The October 12th countdown continues…]