4. Lifelines

Michonne stared in her closet wondering why she was taking so long to choose an outfit it wasn't like she was going on a date it was a parent teacher conference. "Who am I kidding Alley I've been set up." She had to laugh at the fact that she'd been set up by one of her students. Did her social life seem that bad that thirteen year olds were setting her up now?

She hadn't been on anything close to a date since the shooting. It was hard enough just making it through one day she couldn't handle the added stress of a relationship. After the shooting she stayed inside and hardly opened the curtains. she never slept she spent her nights talking to herself and pacing the halls of her condo. . Her phone rang but she didn't pick it up she couldn't bring herself to talk to anyone. The state of nonbeing had taken her over so slowly that she didn't even notice how she had faded away from the world. The shooting had changed her whole reality. She was no longer Michonne. Now she was the teacher that had a scar from where a student she saw in class everyday shot her. Every time she had to look at the gun shot wound on her thigh she would cry. Whenever she closed her eyes she would hear the screams, and then it was getting to where she didn't even have to close her eyes she heard their screams all the time. The faces of the students that died haunted her. She saw their faces in random young people she passed on the street. If she drove by as school she would break out in a cold sweat. The outside world was too loud, too open, too unpredictable.

A school shooting was every teacher's nightmare. After watching her students die Michonne had wanted to distance herself from her students at Possum Holler, but it hadn't worked,she couldn't be a teacher and be distant towards her students. Carl Grimes had found his way right into her heart. Now it seemed his whole family was finding a place into her heart.

Michonne finally decided to wear her red charmeuse shell top with flutter sleeves and a pair of her well broken in Levi's. She added a pair of silver hoop earrings and a silver bangle. "What do you think Alley, have I perfected the I'm trying but I'm not trying too hard look or not?"

Allegory meowed and jumped down from the bed.

"I'll take that as a yes." Rick had asked her to come over at six so Michonne had a little time, and since she didn't like coming over to anyone's house empty handed she made a picture of ginger lemonade to bring over. It wasn't a far drive to Rick's house. He lived in a ranch three streets down from her. She pulled her Camry in his driveway behind his Durango. Michonne checked herself in her rearview mirror one last time to make sure she didn't have lipstick on her teeth or anything else embarrassing then collected her ginger lemonade and Carl's files and rang the doorbell.

"Hello Michonne." Rick said answering the door. He was wearing a green apron over his clothes that said: He who cooks is king. "Dinner isn't quite ready yet but please have a seat in the living room."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No you're the guest relax."

"I brought some ginger lemonade I hope you'll like it."

"We'll love it I'm sure I'll just go put this in the refrigerator."

Michonne noticed that the whole house had been cleaned up since she'd been there. The living room had a Country Living feel to it. It was very quaint and cozy and Michonne imagined that Lori must have been very house proud. There were pictures of Rick, Lori,Carl and Judith hung up on the walls and on the fireplace mantel. They all looked so happy in their pictures and Michonne wondered what went wrong. How had what seemed like such a happy family become such a broken family?

"Ms. Mitchell when did you get here?" Carl asked coming into the living room with his little sister,who was holding a book, in his arms. "I didn't hear the doorbell."

"I just got here a few minutes ago."

"Oh, no wonder I didn't hear you come in I was giving Jude a bath and she totally soaked me. I had to change clothes." Carl put his sister down.

"You help your father out a lot don't you that's very nice."

"My dad has to work at lot so I look out for Jude."

Michonne smiled sadly. Carl was dealing with so much trying to be an adult and not quite succeeding.

Judith climbed up on the couch beside Michonne and put her book in Michonne's lap. "You read me peez"

Michonne picked up the book, Liza Lou and the Yeller Belly Swamp, and was pleasantly surprised because it was one of the books she'd given to Judith as a gift.

"She always wants that one now." Carl explained. "Dad and I are sick of reading it."

"Well it's a good thing I'm not." Michonne said. She opened the book and started to read making voices for each of the characters. Judith moved closer and listened with rapt attention. Carl sat on the other side of her laughing at the voices she put on. Moments like this were the reason why Michonne had become an English teacher. To her there was no better feeling than installing a life long love of reading in a child. There was nothing better than giving them to tools to go out and be anyone they believed that they could become. When Michonne finished the story Judith clapped her tiny hands.

Rick came out of the kitchen sans apron to announce that dinner was ready.

"It's about time I'm starving." Carl grumbled and picked his sister up from the couch.

"It smells wonderful."

"Thank you, Rick said to Michonne, it's nice to know someone appreciates my culinary expertise."

"Yeah right, Lasagna is the only thing you know how to cook."

"Quiet you." Rick said and took his daughter from his son and sat her in her booster seat.

Carl was right when he said that his father's lasagna was good. "This taste wonderful Mr. Grimes, Rick."

"Thanks it's my mom's recipe."

"So dad what are we doing this summer?' Carl asked.

"Oh we might visit your grandparents in Atlanta and then maybe go camping. Why do you ask?"

Michonne exchanged a hopeful look with Carl. "Well speaking of Atlanta there's a youth writing camp going on down there this summer, and I think it would be really beneficial for Carl to attend. It only last two weeks so you'd still have time for your other plans as well"

Rick wiped off Judith's mouth. "Really? Does that sound like something you'd like to do Carl?"

"Yeah!"

"Well I brought a pamphlet if you'd like more information on it". She handed the pamphlet to Rick.

"What you name?" Judith asked pointing at Michonne.

"My name is Mimi."

"Mimi, Mimi." Judith sang.

Carl looked at her questioningly.

"Mimi is what my nephews and nieces call me. Do I not look like a Mimi to you?"

"Mimi is an old lady's name. You're not old."

"Bless you my child."

"So, Rick began, would you like dessert or would you like to get started on the conference?"

"I couldn't eat another bite so I think it's best we get started."

Carl took his cue to leave and lifted Judith out of her booster seat and took her from the room.

Rick watched them go and then as soon as they were out of earshot turned back to Michonne. "Are my sons grades OK?" Is he going to pass?"

"Yes, I was going to recommend he take my AP English class next year."

"Good then if you don't mind could I tell you what happened with my wife. I think maybe it will help you to help me with my son."

"Of course."

"I think I need a beer, would you like one."

"Sure."

Rick grabbed two Heinekens from the refrigerator. "Is a bottle fine or would you like a glass?"

"A bottle is fine thank you."

Rick sat across from Michonne and twisted the cap of his beer and nervously spun it for a second. He took a long pull from his beer before speaking, and when he did speak he looked at a spot on the wall just above Michonne's head as if looking in her eyes was too hard. She knew that feeling all to well.

"I got the call over my radio. They didn't say what had happened just that there was an incident at my house. I put on my siren and did well over ninety miles per hour all the way there." Rick closed his eyes and took another drink from his beer. "She was dead when I got there but her body was still in the car. She'd run a hose from the tailpipe of the exhaust to the front seat of the car."

"Oh Rick I am so sorry." Michonne said she had not taken a drink of her beer yet.

"She left a note that said: 'I know that I'm a shitty wife and I'm not winning any mother of the year awards, but I need you to know that I love you. I've always loved you. I love Carl and Judith always. I'm sorry that I wasn't strong enough to stay.' I read that note and lost it. I just broke down and started screaming my partner said I needed to think of my children, and when I pulled myself together and turned around there were Carl and Judith.

Michonne was crying silent tears that she didn't even bother to wipe away.

"Carl saw her being brought out on a stretcher her body was covered by a sheet but he wanted to see her. He wouldn't believe me when I told him she was dead. I never told him how his mother died but he knew. He started screaming that I killed Lori. He wanted the other officers to put me in the back of a cruiser and take me to jail. I wanted them to take me to jail too because in that moment I thought Carl was right, my indifference did kill my wife."

Michonne wanted to say something to Rick but what was there to say? No wonder he looked like he was about to fall apart at the seams when she'd first saw him. Carl had that same look about him too, that look like he'd just come undone, and nothing could put him back together. It was a look that she could instantly recognize now.

"Carl didn't speak to me for a two months after his mother died, Rick looked up with watery red rimmed eyes, and looked into Michonne's eyes, then you came and you got him to start writing and it helped him. I don't even think he knew he had that talent, but now that he does it's like a new outlet for him. I heard you in there reading to my daughter and I just want to thank you. Lori will never get to do that for her but she needs that. I need that"

"I think I need it too."

2

It was nine o clock and Carl suddenly realized that he had not heard the front door open or close. He looked out of his bedroom window and saw that Ms. Mitchell's car was still parked in the driveway he wondered what she was still doing here so late. There was no way that she and his father could still be having their conference. He paused his video game, opened his door as quietly as possible, and crept out into the hallway.

The pair were still in the kitchen he could just make out the sound of their voices. He tiptoed closer and stuck his head in the doorway, and there was his dad and Ms. Mitchell at the sink doing dishes together his dad had rolled up his sleeves and was handing a plate to Ms. Mitchell to dry. Their voices were so low that he couldn't hear what they were saying, but he knew it wasn't about him or how he was doing in school, for one thing Ms. Mitchell had her shoes off, and for another his dad was staring at his teacher's boobs. Carl turned around and crept back into his room before he died of second hand embarrassment. He lied down on his bed and stared up at his ceiling. The solar system that he and his father had painted when he was eight years old was still up there. They had gotten blue paint all over themselves and his mom had said they looked like smurfs. She would never tell him anything like that again.

He couldn't help but wonder how his mother would feel about his father getting with another woman. It gave him a funny feeling to think about. He knew that his father would not remain single forever, and even though he did like Ms. Mitchell his dad's moving on felt somehow disloyal. Sometimes Carl didn't want his father to be happy. A selfish and very stubbron part of him still wanted to punish his father for his mother's death. It was easier to blame his dad than to accept the fact that his mother killed herself, because that somehow meant that he wasn't worth living for. Carl sometimes wondered if his mother ever loved him or Judith at all because if she had how could she have done what she did? There were times when he even hated his mother for leaving them all alone, but in the end that only lead to him hating himself and now he just wanted all of those feelings to be gone.

That's how Ms. Mitchell had helped him. She told him to write down his feelings and when he did he found it helped him sort out all the shit that had been churning in his mind all day. She did that mom not you! Carl thought bitterly. She's here now not you! His brain raged and once it set off on a crazy tangent like this it was hard to stop. You could have been here. I still wish you were, but you didn't want us. Did you hate life with us that much? I didn't even get to say goodbye. Why wasn't I even good enough for a goodbye?

Finally he heard the front door open and he got off his bed and looked out the window. His dad was walking Ms. Mitchell to her car and he opened the door for her and then closed it for her. She waved to his father before pulling off. His father watched her car go then turned back into the house. He heard his father whistling down the hall as he made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth and get ready for bed. Carl wondered what the two of them had talked about. Had they talked about his mother? Did his dad tell her about that awful day? The stretcher carrying his mother's body had seem so flat that he could not believe that his mother was under that blanket. Carl had wanted to see that it was really her but his father hadn't let him look. He let out a huge sigh wishing his mind would switch off and give him a break, but he knew that he wouldn't be sleeping any time soon tonight, so he picked up the spiral bound notebook Ms. Mitchell had given him and began to write.

Carl woke up the next morning to the smell of breakfast that his father was cooking.

"How do you like your eggs?" His dad had asked.

"Um on a plate." Carl responded so shocked that his dad was cooking breakfast. His dad didn't cook eggs and he certainly never cooked types of eggs. Usually in the mornings he just grabbed a pop tart and ate it on the way to the bus.

"I thought we should try eating at the table again."

"OK."

"It was nice last night eating at the table wasn't it?"

Carl nodded. They sat down and ate breakfast together, and though they didn't talk much there wasn't the usual feeling of tension in the air either. Carl felt like he was sitting down eating breakfast with his dad again and not a stranger.

"I thought we'd go camping this summer just me and you that way Jude will get to bond with grandma and grandpa what do you think?"

"That would be all right."

"Good. I don't want you growing up without me realizing it Carl. I know I've made a lot of mistakes, and there are a lot of wrongs that I can't right but we're going to be all right."

"I know dad." For right now that was the closest thing to I love you either of them were likely to utter.

It had been almost three years now since his mom's death and they were finally getting back to the place where they saw each other and not their own grief. Carl had always thought when people died that you mourned together but, they never discussed his mother's suicide his dad never even said the word both of them just kept their feelings about her to themselves. "Can we go see her?" Carl ask without elaborating he knew his dad would know what he meant.

His dad had looked at him for the longest time fork poised in mid air. "Yeah Carl we can go see her we'll even buy her some flowers." So the three of them had gone to his mother's grave. It had been so long since any of them had been there he'd almost forgotten what it looked like. They brought red geraniums, his mom's favorite, to put on her grave. Judith stood between the two of them not understanding why her brother and father were crying, and after a few minutes looked ready to cry herself until his father lead her away. Carl kneeled on his mother's grave and traced his fingers over her name. He wasn't sure that he believed in heaven, but he hated to think of his mother lying in the cold hard ground. He took a look around to make sure no one was near or his father wasn't coming back before he began to speak. "I miss you mom but I can't keep going on hating you and hating myself. I think maybe dad might have found someone. I don't know if she likes dad yet, but he likes her and so does Jude. I like her too. I don't know why you did what you did, but I don't think you meant to hurt anyone." He couldn't talk anymore everything just felt too raw, as if he'd just picked a healed over scab. Carl stared at his mother's grave wishing that he could hear her voice or just see her one last time.

"You ready to go son?" His father asked squeezing his shoulder.

He stood and sniffed his tears away. "I'm ready."

Carl was late to school, but as he only had gym first period he did not care. His father had to sign his late pass in the student office and they ran into Ms. Mitchell. She didn't give any indication that she'd been over to their house. Nor did she pay Carl any extra attention than she usually did. He had not expected that she would, his dad however was a different story. Carl knew a lot of women in Possum Holler wanted his dad but at times like this he couldn't see why. He kept staring at Ms. Mitchell with his goofy cheese ball grin on his face and rubbing the back of his neck the way he did when he was nervous.

"Oh hi, his dad said with a little wave, I was just dropping Carl off we're running a little late today."

"Well as long as you're not late to my class I won't hold it against you."

"Right, no he'll be on time. He'll definitely be on time."

"I should go I don't want to be late for algebra too." Carl left in a hurry, but when he'd looked back his father was still standing in the student office talking to Ms. Mitchell.

3

Rick poured himself a cup of coffee. It tasted like shoe polish and probably had been sitting around for a week and a half, but so long as he didn't have to make it he didn't care. He walked back to his untidy desk and set his coffee mug on a stack of papers. If he never had to do paperwork again it would be too soon, filing endless and meaningless reports was not what he expected he would be doing with most of his time when he'd became a cop. He didn't think he'd be wearing a bullet proof vest and taking out crime lords either, but he at least thought he'd work in a major city. Mostly he was a baby-sitter breaking up petty domestic squabbles. Neighbors fighting over property lines and loud music. Parents at their wits end dealing with their surly teenagers. Married couples who liked to use the police as a cheap form of marriage counseling, but he was too much of a police officer now to become anything else. He'd gone into the police academy right after high school and been working as a police officer ever since. The Possum Holler police department wasn't exactly glamorous or exciting but it's what he knew and it's what payed the bills.

Rick's cell buzzed in his pocket he pulled it out and answered it. "Sheriff Rick Grimes speaking."

"Rick it's Michonne, could you come over to my place please?"

"Michonne what is it?" Rick said feeling a wave of apprehension chase down his spine. It sounded as if she was crying.

"I can't talk about it over the phone, but please hurry!"

"I'll be right there!" Rick put down the phone and hurried out to his cruiser. He floored it to Michonne's house feeling a sickening sense of déjà vu. She had not said she was hurt so he had to believe that she was all right and there was something else that had upset her. He pulled up into her driveway and hurried to her front door. "Michonne its officer Grimes."

Michonne opened the front door so fast that she must have been standing in front of it waiting for him to come. "It's out back on my patio I couldn't stand to bring it in the house. "

Curious Rick followed Michonne to her back yard patio.

"There in that box." She said and ran back in to the house.

Absolutely puzzled Rick bent a down in front of a Tiffany's blue box and peered inside. Rick gasped no wonder Michonne was so upset it was her cat Allegory, or what was left of her was stuffed in the blue box. Allegory's bloody dismembered body was nestled in white tissue paper that was now drenched red. The cat had been decapitated and her head lie next to the pieces of her mutilated body.

"Michonne?" Rick called as he walked back into her house. He didn't see her in the kitchen so he walked into her living room. "Michonne?" He didn't get an answer instead he could hear the sounds of her retching coming from the bathroom. Rick waited politely outside while the toilet flushed followed by the sink running.

"Sorry about that." Michonne said slowly walking out of the bathroom. Her eyes were still rimmed with tears. "There was a card taped to the inside of the box lid, but I didn't touch it.

Rick went back outside and took a pair of vinyl gloves from his pocket and opened up the card. The card was blank but inside of the card was a note typed in all caps. You're next bitch! Rick decided not to show Michonne the card it would only upset her more.

"When did you find this?"

"About fifteen minutes ago when I went outside to look for Alley."

"Don't worry I'm going to find who did this."

"I already know who did it, Nick Hayden he killed my cat."

Rick remembered Nick he was the student that had gotten expelled for plagiarizing an English paper. "I wouldn't doubt it, look I'm sorry but I'm going to have to take your cat's body in for evidence."

"I don't care I can't stand seeing it anymore." Michonne said and burst into fresh tears.

"I promise you I'll get him, and I'll keep watch on your place tonight." Rick called in the incident and another officer came out to take Michonne's statement and remove the cat's body. Rick handed over his report and photos. After the second officer left Michonne curled up in a ball on her couch covered by a blanket and looking very much like a small child.

"Can I get you anything?" Rick asked.

"How could he do that to a defenseless animal? He's mad at me I get it, but why hurt my cat?" Michonne shook her head. "I've had Alley since my junior year in college and now she's gone."

Rick stood there feeling awkward as hell. She had been there for him so many times and now that the tables were turned he couldn't do a damn thing.

"What does it say about our society when so many young people are so unblinkingly violent?"

"I don't know Michonne I wish I could tell you, but I do know as long as I'm around I won't let anything happen to you." Fate, kismet, destiny Rick wasn't sure if he believed in any of that but he was sure that Michonne found her way into his life for a reason. The two of them kept meeting up and that had to mean something. His son and daughter adored her and that had to mean something as well. It meant a lot to him that his children who had been hurting so much like this woman, it made him like her too. He wanted to get to know her as more than just Carl's teacher and that scared him. He hadn't thought about being with a woman since his wife died, but he thought about Michonne a lot.

He thought about the way she made him feel whenever she smiled at him. He thought about the way she looked in those jeans she wore when she came over to dinner. He remembered the way it felt when she'd rolled up his sleeves so that he could wash dishes. Her hands had felt warm, soft and feminine on his skin and that whole night he wanted to find any excuse for her to touch him again. While they were washing the dishes he kept sneaking what he hoped were surreptitious glances at her, but he was pretty sure she knew that he was checking her out. Michonne made him feel like a high school boy with a hopeless crush.

"It's the worst feeling in the world wanting to save young people and know that there are just some you can't reach."

"Remember when you told me I can't keep blaming myself?" Rick asked. "Well the same applies to you, you can't keep blaming yourself. You're not responsible for every kid in the world Michonne."

"That's the weird thing I don't even want to save Nick I just don't want any of this. I just wish there was somewhere I could go where violence couldn't reach me."

"It won't, not here. Now sit tight and I'll make you a cup of tea."

"You don't have to."

Rick searched Michonne's kitchen until he found a box of chamomile tea and a dainty tea cup with roses on it. He filled up her copper kettle and set it on her stove to boil.

"Don't you have to get back to work?"

Rick spun around. "You scared me." He said to Michonne who he had not heard come into the kitchen.

"Sorry I just thought I'd help you with the tea." As if on cue the kettle whistled and Michonne got down a second tea cup and poured tea for the both of them.

"I am doing my work, Rick replied, I told you I'm going to keep you safe and I meant it. You mean too much to me and my children for me to let anything happen to you."