Part 8: Revelations

The aroma of brewing coffee lulled Rick from a dreamless sleep. He rose from the former bank manager's swivel office chair to stretch the kinks from his neck and back. Across the room, Michonne sat half-curled on one of the leather sofas with Carl's head resting on her lap. A blanket hung loose over them. His son claimed most of the sofa, but Rick knew that she didn't mind. A few times in the night, Carl mumbled and cried out. Rick went to the boy, but Michonne waved Rick away as she soothed his son with gentle caresses and soft murmurs. The image of her tending to Carl had been the last thought on Rick's mind as he fell asleep.

Dawn entered and whispered, "Good morning." She headed to her son who lay sprawled on the other sofa. His covers lay in the heap on the floor. She stretched the blanket over him, pausing to brush the curls from Dominik's forehead, but she didn't wake him.

"Mornin'," Rick said quietly before a yawn captured his greeting.

She smiled. "Sleep okay?"

He nodded. "Yeah. You?"

"It was peaceful," she said. "The coffee's ready. I'm working on breakfast—"

"You don't have to do all that for us."

She shrugged. "We all have to eat." With that, she left the room.

Rick hadn't made his mind up about the Cassidy family after one night. They seemed alright, though. Dominik and Carl were close in age. It would be good for both boys to have someone to hang with, as much as they could hang given the circumstances. Daryl's recommendation couldn't be dismissed, and Rick noticed how well Sasha and Dawn got along. Hell, Sasha wasn't one to open up to anyone so that was something in itself. Still, he wouldn't make a firm decision until he and Michonne talked.

As if she knew his thoughts had turned to her, she stirred. To his disappointment, she remained asleep. Yesterday had been hell for her, too. Although she worked to maintain that strong woman resolve, he knew the softness that resided underneath. Rick went to her and pushed a few locs from her cheek. His fingers skimmed her jawline, but he was careful not to wake her. He needed to see her like this. Safe. Unhurt. Resting. Beautiful and unguarded. He bent forward and kissed her forehead. Then, he left the manager's office before her mouth proved too tempting.

If Rick had a camera, the bank lobby would have been perfect for embarrassing photos. Lorenzo lay sprawled across the teller counter in a position similar to his nephew. Daryl had the other end and he too was fast asleep. Sasha sat near Daryl's head. She stifled a yawn as she smiled at Rick and offered a small wave. He returned both gestures. He planned to talk to her later, but the coffee proved too alluring.

A campfire coffeepot rested on the makeshift grill. Clean mugs lined a nearby table. Packets of sugar and cream were also available. Rick blinked once and rubbed his eyes. He used a towel to remove the pot from the heat and poured two mugs.

"Morning," Nik said.

Rick tensed. He wasn't sure why. He and the younger man hadn't spoken much. And it was Cassidy's bullet that prevented Joe's buddy from running off. Still, strangers made Rick uneasy. He hadn't always been that way.

"Mornin'," Rick said. The other man's brown eyes were clear. But it was obvious something was on his mind.

"You were a lawman before," Nik said. Upon Rick's silence, he continued. "We live in a lawless time now."

"What are you getting at?" Rick asked.

"I get why you did what you did—"

"I don't need your approval," Rick said.

"I'm not offering it," Nik said. "What I'm trying to say is I would've done the same thing." Dawn hummed to herself as she rummaged through the food items. Nik's gaze strayed to her and his affection for her was impossible to ignore. He rubbed his hands over his face as he spoke to Rick again. "A year ago, I would have fought for staying true to the old ways, but now I'd do anything to protect my family."

Rick nodded. Adapting to the changes hadn't been easy for him either. He couldn't say when he realized that he couldn't be the idealistic Sheriff's Deputy of King County anymore. Maybe it was a gradual process. Once made, there was no turning back now.

"Since this shit started, we've been with different groups. Some were…iffy to put it nicely, but we could become united."

"Why?" Rick asked.

"Safety in numbers is the answer that makes the most sense," Nik said, "but the truth is my wife and Sasha became friends. Maybe the same could happen for our boys. Hell, when I was Dom's age, the last thing on my mind was survival. I hate that my son is growing up like this, but what can you do? I can't turn back time. If I could, a lot of things would be different."

"We haven't made plans," Rick answered. "We had a larger group. We got separated. Until Daryl and Sasha showed up yesterday, I thought… Now, there's a possibility, you know?"

Nik shrugged. "The more the merrier."

"Daryl said y'all took him and Sasha in."

"We did," Nik said. "Do it again."

"Y'all saved our lives yesterday," Rick said.

"It's what people do—"

Rick shook his head. "Not all people. You helped Daryl and Sasha twice when you didn't have to. Thank you for that."

Rick grabbed the two mugs of coffee and took them back to the manager's office. The aroma awakened Michonne and she greeted him with a smile. One hand accepted the mug from Rick and the other caressed his son's cheek. Rick sat on the floor, cradling the mug between his palms, and watched Michonne sip coffee and Carl sleep.

$%^&

Tackling domestic duties under primitive conditions had been an interesting adjustment and perhaps a showing of God's unique sense of humor. Prior to the collapse of their world as they knew it, Dawn had written about this sort of thing. She had just sold a young adult novel series about a dismal dystopian future to a major New York publishing house when the dead started coming back to life. They were doing research in southern Georgia and met up with Lorenzo who was driving back from a weeklong vacation in Miami. For the first few weeks, she kept waiting for Nik to wake her up so she could tell him about her crazy dream and overzealous imagination. But he never did.

She carried oatmeal and a box of powdered milk to the grill. Nik lifted a cast iron pot onto the iron grate and poured bottled water inside.

"Tell me when," he said.

"Let's start with two bottles and then I'll know," she told him. She poured a good amount of oatmeal and milk into the pot. While he stirred with a wooden spoon, she asked, "How did it go?"

"Not sure, yet," he replied. "He's wary."

"Like you." She poked his hard, flat stomach and he smiled. "If it had been you instead of Lorenzo out there, Sasha and Daryl never would've seen our camp."

Nik shrugged. "I'm cautious. Clay and Nash had been a mistake. We couldn't afford to make another one."

"Admit that Lorenzo did okay."

"You're always sticking up for him," Nik complained with a faint smile. "My little bro is lucky that I'm not the jealous type."

"As if." She rolled her eyes and wrestled the spoon from him. "Hand me some sugar. I can't eat plain oatmeal."

He placed the packets in her hand, but he didn't release her until she kissed him.

"I needed that," he said. He pulled a chair close and sat as she cooked the oatmeal.

Before the outbreak, they often cooked meals together. Who was the better cook was a hot topic for debate. Nik was unmatched on the grill, but Dawn's baking made him drool. In the after, everything was rushed. They could never simply enjoy the moment. Dawn tried to bring normalcy into their routine for Dominik's sake and Nik did, too. But either the dead undead or some asshole living person found various ways to wreck it.

"About yesterday," Nik said quietly.

"Yeah?" She paused in surprise. She had drifted back to their open kitchen in Nashville with its terra cotta flooring and gas stove. Everything was stainless steel.

"It got me thinking about Noelle."

For a moment, she forgot to breathe. There wasn't a day she didn't think of their daughter, but by silent agreement, they rarely mentioned her. The unknown was too painful. She tapped the spoon hard against the edge of the pot. "Yeah?"

"Dawn." He took the spoon from her and set it on a towel. Then he drew her to him. His blunt fingertips dug into her hips. "She's safe with our parents."

"Yeah," she murmured against his chest.

"You need to say it," Nik said, "and believe it."

"She should have been with us," Dawn said. "Sometimes it's easier to believe…"

"I promised that we'll all be together again, and I meant it," he said.

"She went to New York with our parents. Has a year passed or has it been two? They could be anywhere."

"It doesn't matter. We pretend that there's no hole in our hearts, but it's a lie," Nik said. "I've always kept my promises to you and I won't stop breaking them now."

"This is one I won't hold you to." Dawn pulled Nik close to hide the tears in her eyes. "I love you."

"Love you more," he said with a kiss to her cheek.

$%^&

The abandoned town offered more than a solid roof, clean clothes, and fresh supplies. After breakfast, Daryl, Rick, and Lorenzo decided to go beyond the main block and see what else was available for their use. Rick struck gold when he spotted a Chevy Tahoe with the key in the ignition.

"Big enough for five," Rick said.

Daryl nodded. Lorenzo frowned, but he only told them to start it.

Rick opened the door and an odor from hell hit them full in the face. Daryl opened the back rear driver side door while Lorenzo moved around to get the doors on the passenger side. Then the three men stepped back. They guessed either a small animal crawled inside and died or died underneath the vehicle.

"It'll take at least a day to air out," Daryl said. "Maybe three."

Rick released a small laugh. "Three? Think it runs?"

"Looks alright," Lorenzo said. "I'm good with cars—"

"He's lying," Nik said with his son in tow.

"Uncle's an expert," Dominik added. "If it's not running, he can fix it."

"You make me sound like a miracle worker," Lorenzo grumbled.

"You are," Nik said. "You should've seen the RVs when we found 'em. Don't let my kid brother fool ya. If there's life left in that Tahoe, he can find it." He hooked an arm around his son's shoulders. "C'mon."

"Where y'all headed?" Lorenzo asked.

"Hunting for a crossbow in that hardware store," Nik said. "I'm not going too far from the bank."

Lorenzo laughed.

"Mr. Dixon—"

"Don't call me that," Daryl said. "I told you. Just call me Daryl."

Dominik glanced at his father. When Nik nodded, the boy said, "Um…Daryl, if we find a crossbow, would you mind teaching me how to use it?"

Daryl shrugged. "Sure."

"Thanks!"

"You don't got to thank me," Daryl said quickly. "I ain't done nothing, yet."

"Okay." Dominik pulled on his father. "C'mon, Dad. Sasha said she found arrows in the store. There gotta be a crossbow, too."

"Maybe," Nik said, "but we'll look."

"I'll come help in a minute," Lorenzo said. He turned back to Rick and Daryl. "Even if others come through, I doubt if they'll take it. We can keep looking."

Rick cocked his head to the side. "I like the size of it. Bank's got running water. We can clean it. Find some Lysol or something. Take care of that smell."

"You know we got plenty of room," Lorenzo said. "In my truck and the Explorer. The fit'll be tight, but we can make it work."

"We won't have room for the supplies if we all try to squeeze in," Rick said. "The Tahoe'll work. If y'all don't mind waiting a day or two."

"I don't have a problem with it," Lorenzo said. "We can figure stuff out at dinner? Dawn found rice. I promised to supply the meat."

"Not another boar," Daryl said.

Lorenzo laughed. "Rabbit or squirrel."

"Need to get 5 or 6 for this group," Daryl said.

"At least." Lorenzo saluted and jogged off in the direction of his brother and his nephew.

Rick tugged the end of his t-shirt over his mouth and reached inside to get the key. When he stepped out, he pocketed it and nodded toward the woods. "You hunting, too?"

"In a minute," Daryl said.

They headed back toward the main street and Daryl realized how easy being together again with Rick was. He couldn't remember being more relieved when he rushed inside that law office and saw the three of them still alive. Having the group split like it was felt off. Sasha finding him saved his life, but finding the other three made things better, too.

"They don't seem ready to let y'all go," Rick said quietly.

"Nik talk to ya?"

"Yeah."

"Figured he would," Daryl said. "He's got a way about him. Kinda direct. Young in age, but old, ya know?"

"I wouldn't have put it that way, but I can see it," Rick admitted.

"We've been seeing the signs for that sanctuary."

"Terminus?"

Daryl nodded. "Signs are everywhere. Sasha thinks Tyrese could be there."

Rick's eyebrows lifted. "Is that the plan? The Cassidy's are down with this, too?"

"It ain't no plan," Daryl said. "Just talk. Ain't nobody sure about it. Reminds me of Woodbury and that fantasyland the Governor had. Reeks of bullshit."

"Sight unseen," Rick murmured.

"Huh?"

"Agreeing with you," Rick said. "We've seen the signs. I guess we've been following them, but we hadn't made a decision."

"Nik and Lorenzo want to check it out before going in," Daryl confided. "Don't seem like a bad idea."

"Nah, I agree with it," Rick said. "If we decide to do it. A few days of nothing will be good for Carl and Michonne."

"And you," Daryl said.

Rick nodded. "Speaking of…"

Daryl decided to make a run on a couple of nearby stores as Rick went back to the bank. They had taken anything of use from the Dollar General the night before but Daryl went back anyway. He had a way of finding uses for most things that others viewed as trash.

A discarded bucket was shoved under a register, as were rags. He found an old bottle of Pine-Sol in the closet with a mop that had seen better days. With everything in hand, he left the store. As he was coming out, Sasha left the bank. He called to her.

"Hey! Where ya goin'?"

"Are you serious?" she asked, raising her hand to her forehead to shade her eyes from the noon sun.

"Yep. Still stands. Ya not goin' nowhere alone." He dropped his stash on the sidewalk in front of the bank. "The toilets work inside so where ya headed?"

"I need some air," she said, giving him a pointed look. "Do you mind?"

He swallowed a laugh at the annoyed look she gave him. Maybe she didn't realize how appealing her frowns were. How her brown eyes brightened. And her mouth bowed just so. Daryl inhaled a sharp breath and just moved into step beside her.

"Damn," she mumbled with a hint of humor in her tone. "You don't let up."

"Nope."

"We're the only ones here," she said.

"We don't know that for sure. Better to be safe than stupid."

She narrowed her gaze at him. "That's your motto?"

"Today it is."

She shook her head. "Daryl Dixon."

"What?" he asked. "You always saying my name like there's someone else here."

She laughed outright then. "Just needed to stretch my legs. I'm not used to being cooped up anymore."

He nodded. Not much he could add to that anyway, so he changed the subject. "We found a car. Rick did. Chevy Tahoe."

"That's a big one. Where is it?"

"Airing out," he said. "Smells like… You know."

"Walkers?"

"Not quite," he said, "but close enough."

"What else have y'all been up to?" Sasha asked. "You know it's not fair that the men get to have all the fun and the women are left to cook and clean."

"That ain't what happened," he argued.

"That is what happened."

"I found a mop and a bucket."

"So?" she said.

"Yeah, so." They paused at the end of the block. Several yards ahead of them, the Cassidy men walked together. Daryl couldn't be sure, but it appeared that Dominik had found a crossbow.

Sasha jutted her chin toward them. "What's the deal? Are they with us or not?"

"They're with us."

"If I hang with them, I'm not technically alone."

Daryl grimaced. "Not technically."

"I have a message for Nik and you're busy with the mop and bucket," she said. "My knife's sharp." She held it for his inspection.

"Looks good," he muttered. "Fine. If that's what you want."

"See you in a few." She returned the knife to the sheath that she'd attached to her belt. With the back of her hand, she lightly brushed his arm. "Don't work too hard."

Daryl made sure to wait until she joined Nik and his son. The duo seemed happy to have her tag along. The uneasy feeling of jealousy pricked Daryl's gut. He turned away to retrieve his cleaning supplies. It would serve him better to keep busy than cloud his mind with thoughts on an unpredictable woman.

$%^&

Michonne stayed with Carl and enjoyed doing so. They ate breakfast together in the manager's office while listening to the muted sounds of the others as they came and went. After the constant drifting since the loss of the prison, she welcomed a day where nothing was required of her except tending to him. Not that she viewed looking after Carl as a requirement.

He had been cleaning his gun when he paused to glance at her. "I guess Dad thinks I need a babysitter."

She saved her place in the X-Men comic book to focus on him. At first, she denied how he tugged at her maternal instincts. Andre Anthony had been a toddler when she lost him. Comparing her baby to this preteen seemed ludicrous. If her son had lived, he and Carl would have been nothing alike. At least not in looks. In temperament, she couldn't say. Andre Anthony had a stubborn streak. When his mind was mind up, swaying him otherwise proved to be a task where the weak needed not apply. On the other hand, his sense of humor was infectious. Shadow puppets captured his attention within seconds and a shadow rabbit dancing on the wall would send him into a fit of giggles. Carl's stubbornness and humor reminded her of the child she lost and through him, she was able to remember her baby boy without anger or bitterness.

"Want to get out of here?" she asked, setting the comic and Wolverine's latest adventure aside.

Carl frowned. "Where?" He glanced toward the door.

Michonne looked up. "The roof. Fresh air. Warm sun. Your dad and Daryl checked it out yesterday. They cleared it."

The boy shrugged. Michonne took that as a yes. She slipped the strap of her katana over her head while he fitted his pistol into his holster. The door to the roof was at the end of the hall. Carl headed toward it.

"Be there in a minute," she said.

In the lobby, Dawn sat with a notebook and pen in hand. She flexed her fingers as she stared at the boarded windows.

"Hey," Michonne said.

Dawn blinked. "Hi. I was miles away."

"I didn't want to startle you."

"I'm okay." Dawn smiled. "Can I get you something? Does Carl want anything? We have bottled water…"

Michonne shook her head. "We're going to the roof. Just wanted someone to know in case his dad looks for us."

"Another Alpha," Dawn murmured.

"Huh?" Michonne frowned.

"Nothing. I'll tell him," Dawn said. "How's he doing?"

"He's okay. Quiet," she added with a shrug.

"Boys," Dawn said, understanding. "You?"

"I'm fine."

The roof offered just what they needed, Michonne decided. Fresh air and sunshine without the threat of walkers. Carl sat near the ledge, his legs dangling over the side. She did the same. From their position, the view of their block revealed a small square. A few walkers ambled in Daryl's direction as he washed a vehicle. He noticed and quickly felled them with his crossbow. After retrieving his arrows, he returned to work as if nothing happened.

She released a soft chuckle.

Carl looked at her. "Daryl?"

"Yeah."

Carl rubbed his palms along his jean-covered thighs as he stared across the horizon. "I thought we were dead and then Daryl busted through the back door. The other guys came through the front. But Dad… I never expected him to do that."

She nodded. "I don't think he expected to either."

"That man—he had me." Carl's voice cracked. "What he was gonna do to me…"

Michonne moved closer to him and waited.

"I don't know, Michonne," he said.

"What is there to know?" she asked. "We're here."

"I think I could've done it, too." Tears were now streaming down his face. "When you told them to hurt you and they were trying to see who'd go first, I wanted to gut them. I wanted to hurt them in the worst way. I wanted it to be slow and painful and the worst thing they ever knew."

"Carl…" She reached for his hand, but he moved to stand. She rose, too. As he backed away from her, she followed him.

"Killing them wasn't enough," Carl cried. "He said he was gonna use us to hurt Dad, but I saw his face. He wanted to hurt us just because. They were so ready to do th-things to you! So killing them just doesn't seem fair! Does that make me a monster, too?"

"No!" She opened her arms and he ran into them. As he cried, she hugged him to her. Finally, she told him everything about Andre Anthony. How she loved her baby boy and how he died. How her love for her child's father ended so quickly and what she did in the aftermath with her grief. She felt Carl stiffen and then squeeze her tighter as she whispered the details of her past against his brow. At the close, she said, "Sometimes, it's about survival. Your father isn't a monster. You're not one and I'm not either," she said. "This isn't the world we used to know. The rules have changed."

"I don't know what that means," Carl said.

"For people like the ones who grabbed us, it means freedom to do anything. For us, it means adapting."

"And family," Carl said. "We're family, Michonne."

She smiled.

"I love you," he said.

Her throat constricted. "Love you, too, Carl."

He hugged her again and kissed her cheek. He released her and looked toward the exit door. He said, "Dad."

"Hi," Rick said.

"I'm thirsty," Carl said before exiting the roof and leaving Michonne alone with his father.

Rick joined her. "Should I be jealous?" He wiped the tears from her cheek.

She shook her head.

"Think we should tell him or wait a little longer?" Rick asked.

"He's smart. He probably already knows," she said.

"In that case…" He moved behind her and closed his arms around her. "We found a car. It works. Found more ammo, too."

"Is Terminus the next stop?" Michonne asked.

"Not sure, yet. I'd rather check it out first. Don't want all of us going in at once. If it's bullshit, I want you and Carl safe."

"We'll come in and get you," she said.

"I know." Rick nuzzled her neck and held her close.

$%^&

Sasha paused a moment to admire the view. Oblivious to everything except potential walkers, Daryl worked the mop over the Tahoe like he was working out problems to save humanity. She knew that ogling the way his biceps flexed and his hips swayed to a soundless rhythm was wrong. The symptoms of his issues were obvious. Not that she could pinpoint what his deal was with touching—at first she chalked it up to race, but not anymore. Sasha supposed no one was immune to hang ups.

"Almost done?" she asked.

If she startled him, he played it off very well. He turned with a faint grin. "Yeah. You would show up when the hard work's over."

"I planned it right."

She moved away as he poured the dirty water from the bucket and wrung out the mop. He left the bucket near the Tahoe, but he kept a firm grip on the mop handle.

"It's a weapon," he said. "Not leaving it for someone to use on one of us."

He shouldered the crossbow and they headed back toward the bank. When he reached for the door handle, she grabbed his wrist and tugged. "Just leave the mop. Wanna show you something."

Daryl propped the mop against the double paned glass door and joined her as she crossed the street. She sensed the frown before she looked at his face. Reading him was easy. Already, he was trying to assess the ways she defied his orders of going off alone. Little did he know that Nik and Dominik had assisted her on this venture. Lorenzo on his return from hunting rabbit and squirrel also proved to be resourceful. They rounded a former shoe store and there was her surprise. Daryl stopped, mouth parted, and he stared.

"It's a Harley," he murmured.

"Yeah." She slipped the key from her pants pocket. She took his hand and carefully placed the key on his palm. "It's yours—"

Before she could say more, he pulled her into a rough hug. The scent of man and sweat filled her senses. The more Sasha spent time with Daryl, the more she found his unique fragrance appealing. His hands rubbed her shoulders and back. The feel of him against her felt good. It felt right. Sasha squeezed him tight. Her body tingled and she could feel her nipples tightening as he crushed her against his chest. Just as she began to enjoy the fit of her body to his, he released her and stepped back.

Humiliation burned. She spun away, but he caught her hand and pulled her to him. She tried to tug free, but he wouldn't let go.

"Don't, Daryl," she said.

"I'm not good at this," he confessed.

"Because I'm black?" she asked.

"No 'cause I'm me," he said. "I'm just not…" He sighed. Their gazes connected. His blue eyes were wary. "I'm not good at it."

"Felt good to me," she said.

He blushed and she gently brushed a lock of hair from his eyes. "Truth is, I'm not great at relationships either."

"I ain't talkin' 'bout relationships," he mumbled, looking at the ground. "Talkin' 'bout all of it. I don't know what you want, Sasha."

She hesitated before answering. Closing herself off had been a blessing and a curse, but it hadn't fulfilled her. The last few days with Daryl, pretending to be his and vice versa had been nice. Hell, better than nice. For so long, she'd feared wanting anything, but she was tired of that. "I don't know what you want, Daryl."

"Keep you safe for one," he said quickly.

She smiled. "You do that." She looked at where his hand had a firm grasp on hers. "I don't want to be afraid of this." She squeezed his hand. "I guess I don't want to pretend anymore."

"Me either," he said. "But I ain't good at it."

"Then we'll go slow while we figure it out," Sasha said.

He caressed her cheek for the briefest moment. Then, the wariness lifted. He gave her one of the brightest smile she'd ever seen on his face. "You bought that Harley just for me."

"Yeah. Sure."

"All I got you was a dumb knife." He tossed the keys in the air and caught them. "Guess I gotta do better."

She laughed. "I'm not keeping score."

"Sure you're not." Daryl strutted to the bike. "This thing works?"

"Lorenzo got it working—"

"I didn't hear the engine."

Sasha smirked. "It wouldn't have been a surprise if you had heard the engine. It works. Has gas. I'm still working a helmet."

"For you," he said. "I ain't wearing no helmet, but ya better get one. A pink one."

She rolled her eyes while he laughed. He climbed on. Seconds later, the engine purred to life. An image of pure bliss exuded from his face.

"Hop on."

Hesitation was out of the question. Sasha straddled in behind Daryl. Her arms wrapped snug around his waist. He rubbed his hand over hers. She felt him shudder, but the moment passed and he relaxed. Then, he gunned the engine and they were off. She smiled so hard her cheeks hurt. The wind pushed them forward, and Sasha kept smiling.

[A/N: First, my apologies for the length. It's much longer than I intended, but it does push the narrative forward. Future chapters will NOT be this long. After the events of "Tribute," a few things needed to be squared away and set into motion. Part 9 will focus on the merging of the two groups as they finalize their plan regarding Terminus. (Although I'm still on the fence about it. Lol!) As always, thank you all for reading, favoriting, following, and commenting/reviewing/kudoing. Your comments provide jewels of inspiration! Wishing everyone the happiest New Year ever! ]