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Chapter Twenty – three

It was like déjà vu. Tall, glass buildings around him, the hustle and bustle of city life, with people coming and going, headed home or starting their evening. It was so much like the time before when he was there more than a month ago, except this time the air was cooler, the sun shrouded by clouds and the skies gradually growing darker due to the early approach of evening. This time he wouldn't be spending an hour at the nearby café debating whether he should walk away or stay and let her know he was there. This time he would be going straight to her building, straight to her. After his phone had powered up, Rick had immediately tried to call Michonne back. However, she'd not picked up. Frustrated, he'd then called the front desk at her office and asked if she was available. He'd been told that she was in a meeting and it was unknown when she'd be available. Well Rick couldn't wait for the unknown, for he and Michonne to continue vague texts and calls, voicemails that were half answered and conversations that were unfinished. He was done hoping that the distance between them would sort itself out. He had to take control, to see her now, to talk with her, to work through everything that was keeping them apart and binding them together – the mess with Lori, the situation with Mike, their feelings for each other and now the baby, their baby she was carrying. Thus, Rick immediately got on the road and made the hour and a half drive to Atlanta.

The entire time 90-minute ride, his shock diminished, replaced by a happiness he couldn't contain. Michonne was pregnant. He kept telling himself. She was pregnant with their child. He knew that the timing was all wrong, that there was so much they needed to be sorted through and that Michonne would be uncertain about it all due not only to the many things they needed to address – his divorce, Mike, their relationship and Carl, but her demanding career which was her dream. Nonetheless, it felt right. He knew they could make this work. As crazy as it sounded, he knew, deep within his spirit, that them doing this together, as one, and raising a family was meant to be. Rick now made his way for the building that he knew held her place of business, mounting the steps that would take him the final feet to the it's front doors, but his trek changed, his determined stride slowing as his eyes locked with a pool of brown, inflaming the love he felt for her in his heart.

"Rick" Michonne breathlessly gasped as they came to meet at the top of the steps. "What? Why are you here?" She shakily asked a question in which she already knew the answer.

"You know why." He quietly uttered, his gaze a tender and intense blue, rousing the emotion within, as he closed the scant distance between them. "You know why." He expressed once more as he gently touched her cheek, inciting her to sigh from the heat it stirred, for tears to well in her eyes at the contented joy and what she'd seen so many time before but what he'd not verbalized and she couldn't quite define…love. Her heart felt full with happiness and a yearning unlike anything she'd felt in her life, when in that moment the pain in her abdomen severely sharpened, bringing with it a strong wave of nausea, causing her to grabbed her stomach, to nearly cry out.

Panicked by what was obviously pain Michonne was feeling in her abdomen, Rick immediately placed a hand atop hers that lay over her tummy and was about to ask 'What's wrong?' but he hadn't an opportunity to respond due to his eyes catching something in his peripheral. Rick turned his attention that way and saw what was coming in their direction, a man in a dark hoody. A man who at one time had been his friend, stalking towards them, his eyes full of rage and hate, hell bent on vengeance. Rick protectively stepped in front of Michonne, just as the man rushed upon them, pulling his gun, attempting to train it on them. However, he'd stopped him. Before Shane could fully aim the gun, Rick made an unexpected move, lunging at the man, grabbing his armed hand, forcing it to his side, when a fierce struggle ensued. Punches and yelling, pushing and shoving, a struggle over the weapon ensued as eyewitnesses ran for their lives, screaming in fear. Michonne stood paralyzed by pain and shock, watched in horror as the fight grew more brutal and dangerous, when the cramps in her abdomen became unbearable. She doubled over in pain just as she saw Rick being struck hard across the face, with the strange man appearing to gain an advantage in the fight, to somehow manage to point the gun for which they still struggled, at Rick. When her world began to spin, everything going blurry, just as she heard one final sound, a gunshot, before her world descended into darkness.

Two and half hours later…

The haze slowly lifted, bringing with it the brightness of life, shining just out of view and the fear that came with the confusion of what had happened, when gradually all became clear, the events of what felt like hours before revealing themselves – the arrival of Rick, paralyzing pain, the brutal altercation, the gun shot and her brief instances of consciousness after. Panic instantly seized Michonne, fear for Rick's life, fear for the baby, driving her eyes to snap open, for her to desperately hope that her distress was unfounded. However, she knew her hope for the latter was in vain, due to the changes she instinctively felt within her body. Anguish invaded her heart, mingling with the lingering pain in her abdomen as she replayed the events of the day, how it had started and now where it had led.

Never would she have ever believed that things would've ended up here, when she'd had her epiphany that morning or when she was dealing with the crisis with her client. Never did she believe that just as quickly as she accepted that she was having a baby, that she was going to be a mother, everything would change, that the baby would be gone, and Rick could be injured or dead at the hands of that maniac who had attacked him. Michonne was besieged by a storm of emotions, driving her need to see Rick, to make sure he was alright, when she moved to leave the bed and aggravated the cramps that were surging through her lower abdomen.

"Chonne!" She suddenly heard and looked up to find Bob entering the room, worry in his tone. "You should be resting." He said as she settled back on the bed, sighing at the pain and her exhaustion.

"What are you doing here?" Michonne sighed in pain as her hand came to rest on her aching stomach.

"My partner and I, our ambulance was, dispatched to the scene of what happened." He cautiously answered.

"Where's Rick?" She fearfully questioned, worried that the worst had happened, knowing that she couldn't bear it if she'd lost him. She kept her eyes forward, focused on the dull gray wall before her, willing what she wanted, what she needed to be true to be reality, forcing herself to believe that he was okay, when Bob answered her question in two words…

"He's fine." He said. Michonne released a breath she didn't realize she was holding and closed her eyes in relief and thankfulness. "He's being treated down the hall. He's a little banged up, but he'll be okay." He detailed, nearly stirring her to tears, but she choked them down and voiced another question.

"And…the baby?" She unevenly asked, what she already knew, as she returned her eyes to Bob.

"I'm sorry Chonne." He sadly confirmed. Michonne turned her eyes away, briefly dropping her gaze as the tears finally came, incessant and weighty, for the loss she'd suffered, the terror at the almost deadly situation she'd witnessed and the solace in knowing that Rick had come through it okay.

"I should've left work when I first started to feel it." She tearfully stated after a while, guilt invading her heart.

"Feel what?" He compassionately asked as he gently grasped her hand.

"I was feeling pain, and nausea, just like I'd…just like I'd felt before when I fainted, but I just kept working." She sighed, shaking her head in angst at her lack of forethought, in fully grasping the precariousness of her condition.

"Chonne, even if you'd left, it's unlikely it would've prevented what happened." Bob countered.

"You don't know that." She lamented. "The doctor told me if I experienced any symptoms like I had before I should go to the hospital…but I waited, and now… it's too late."

"I'm so sorry Chonne." Her friend uttered again, but she didn't respond for she was lost in sorrow and regret, realizing the irony of her situation, that right as she decided to keep the pregnancy, as she was slowly starting to accept that her future would soon include a baby, everything had changed and her pregnancy was gone. Was this the result of her feelings at the start, her disinterest and exasperation at the thought of having a child? Had those negative emotions created a resistance within her body that fought her condition and in turn expelled of the pregnancy? She unreasonably wondered, her internal query, causing her tears to anew, her heart heavy with what she'd not at first wanted, but had grew to desire, when she'd heard the life that was beating within her.

"Are you okay?" Bob asked, when her grief gradually ebbed, several minutes later.

"Yeah." She inaudibly replied.

"Are you sure? Cause I can stay until Sasha gets here if you need me."

"You're leaving?" She asked, now wiping the tears from her eyes with Kleenex from the box he'd offered from the table next to the bed.

"Yeah. I've been here while on break." He explained.

"Thank you for sitting with me, but go back to work. I'll be fine." She encouraged with strength.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Go." She assured. Bob accepted her response, then moved to leave but not before squeezing her hand, again expressing his sorrow for her situation and reminded her to continue to rest, at least until Sasha got there to take her home. Michonne accepted his advice and support, putting her brave face on until he exited the room, when heartache pressed upon her once more, breaking her down with a fury of tears.

Rick lay staring at the popcorn tiles above him, while the nurse carefully wrapped his sprained hand. The pain there and on his bruised ribs, gradually abating due to the medication he'd been given. He wanted the woman to hasten her work, to quickly finish bandaging his hand so that he could find Michonne. Though the doctor had told him he needed to rest, not only due to his sprained hand and bruised ribs, but the concussion he'd developed, he could not sit by, idling waiting to get well enough to see her. For the last time he'd seen her she was unconscious and being led away in an ambulance. He knew she hadn't been hurt by his fight with Shane, by the gunshot that had fired.

Thankfully no one had, but he couldn't get the vision out of his mind of how beautiful, yet peaked she'd looked when he'd seen her, and the agony he knew she'd been experiencing in her abdomen. Could something be wrong with the baby? He posed to himself what he didn't want to admit was possible. A deep sense of foreboding washing over him, making him feel anxious and alarmed, finding no comfort in the limited information he'd pulled out of the nurse, who'd only told him that she was okay. The young woman finally finished wrapping his hand, told him how to care for it at home, then left the room, providing him with the opportunity to satiate the urging in his heart to find Michonne. However, as soon as he moved to leave the bed, fighting through the slight spinning in his head, and the dull pain in his ribs and hand that still wasn't quite muted by the Tylenol he'd taken, detectives had come by, to get a statement on what had happened.

Rick had given the men a full account of the incident. How he and Michonne were talking when this man, who he recognized as Shane Walsh, came out of nowhere. He'd seen Shane was attempting to aim a gun at them, so he'd attacked before the man could succeed. "We viciously fought and somehow Shane managed to get control of the gun. At which point, we struggled over it." Rick disclosed. Then told how he'd been assaulted with the weapon, with Shane striking him across the temple. They'd fought some more, with Rick successfully keeping Shane from gaining full command of the gun. They continued to struggle over the weapon until it had eventually gone off.

However, following that he'd gotten the better of Shane and had taken him down, while disarming him in the process. The detectives had then asked Rick if he knew why Shane was in Atlanta, and furthermore why he'd come after him. Rick candidly responded, filling the men in on his history with Shane, concluding by revealing the restraining order he had against the man. The detectives had thanked him for his cooperation and went to go, but not before informing him that Shane had been arrested for aggravated assault and was being treated on another floor for the injuries he'd suffered during the fight.

Rick couldn't believe this had happened. How had it happened? How had Shane known where he was? Did he really follow him, all the way to Atlanta? He must've. He'd logically concluded, which meant it likely hadn't just started that day. If he'd been planning an attack all along, he could've been watching him for days. The thought of which greatly unnerved Rick. How had things got to this point? He asked himself again, the question he'd asked so many times over the past few months. He and Shane used to be friends. Well he thought they were friends, but obviously they never weren't.

Morgan had always warned him about Shane's roaming eyes over Lori and disingenuous friendship, but he'd not seen it. Thinking that Shane's sometimes questionable behavior was nothing more than a minor case of jealousy which sometimes happened amongst friends. After all, they'd had an occasional rivalry since college. Nonetheless, here he was, reflecting on nearly being killed by his "friend," but he couldn't entertain that anymore. Shane was where he belonged, arrested and on his way to jail, and he needed to get to Michonne. Rick doggedly thought as he once again began to climb out of bed, when another unexpected visitor came by, bursting through the door…

"Dad!"

"Carl…what are you doing…" He barely got the question out when his son grabbed him, stifling the query, his hug filling him with pain, inciting him to groan. "What are you doing here?" He managed to ask ex-wife who rushed into the room. "How are you here?"

"I drove up. It was a miracle I found you through the local police. Why didn't you answer your phone?!" Lori responded in near hysterics.

"What are you doing here?" He severely asked again his tone etched with anger, deliberately ignoring her question.

"I did this to you." She confessed, her voice unsteady. "I'm responsible for what Shane has done."

Michonne slowly emerged from the bathroom, now having changed into the fresh clothes that Sasha had brought from her Condo, feeling physically and emotionally exhausted, but minimal pain in her abdomen due to the medicine the doctor had given her to take. The doctor had come by after Bob had left and explained what she already knew, that she'd had a miscarriage. The doctor had explained, that the occurrence was unfortunately not that uncommon, especially so early in her pregnancy, but that she should heal without issue.

The woman had not prescribed any medicine, recommending she take Tylenol for the ongoing pain she'd have for the next few days and suggested she schedule a visit with her OBGYN within the following week to confirm that her body was recovering properly. After the doctor finished up, leaving Michonne to ponder the advice that was painfully similar to what had been suggested days ago, when she'd first learned she was pregnant, the thoughts threatening to shatter her again. However, Atlanta police had shown up, staying her impending breakdown, wanting a statement about what she'd seen during the incident.

Michonne had recounted what little she'd seen prior to her falling unconscious and had learned from them that the attacker had been someone who'd specifically targeted Rick, but that was all they'd revealed since they were still investigating the case. Who knew Rick here? She'd worriedly mused, just as Sasha had arrived and the cops headed out. Her friend's warm presence, fracturing her stoic stance, inciting her to confess all, from her moving experience at the doctor's that morning, that led to her choice to keep the baby, to her admission to Rick, his unexpected visit and the horrifying and heartbreaking events after.

Sasha had responded with shock and sadness, comforting her with hugs and empathy, countering her guilt with the reminder of her own miscarriage for a similar reason – a severe hemorrhage and the pregnancy having a weak heartbeat from the start. Sasha's words had provided some comfort, and thus motivated Michonne to get herself together, to prepare to leave the hospital by changing into the jeans, tennis' and sweater that Sasha had brought, due to the clothes she'd previously worn being soiled, then destroyed as a result of the miscarriage and the work of the doctors in the ER.

"You ready?" Sasha asked with care as Michonne closed the bathroom door behind her.

"No yet." She answered, bewildering her friend. "But I will be as soon as I see Rick."

"Chonne you're exhausted…"

"I'm not leaving until I see him." She strongly, emotionally interjected, stopping her friend's oncoming objection, who immediately acceded to her decision.

Minutes later Michonne left Sasha to wait in the nearby lobby and arrived alone at the door of the room in which she knew to be Rick's. She put her hand on the knob, ready to enter, to see with her own eyes that he was alright but dreaded the devastation she knew he'd feel when he learned that she was no longer pregnant. Michonne drew a deep breath, and shoved away the despondency that was on the brink of crushing her resolve, then determinedly move to walk through the door, but was stopped…

"Hey that's my dad's room!" A small voice exclaimed out of nowhere drawing Michonne's attention from the door and onto a young adolescent, who'd just walked up.

"Who's your dad?" Michonne cautiously, nervously asked as she gazed at the young boy that seemed vaguely familiar.

"Rick Grimes."