A/N: LOL, I love you guys so much. Between the shade y'all threw at Carol and then Lori, I was dying at these reviews. Don't worry, though, Carol will not be rolling up on Michonne. Not a single one of the Grimes would allow that. And I really appreciate your comments on Rick and Daryl's relationship, as that's one of my favorite things about the show, and I wanted to do it justice. So thank you! Anywho! This chapter is another long one, so I'm gonna hush and let you get to reading! -Ashley

11: bye georgia

It was dark. Very dark, as 4:00 AM tended to be. Michonne and Daryl skulked about the perimeter of the church, quietly dispatching walkers as needed, while guarding all exits. Tara, Maggie, and Rosita were in charge of one vehicle each – a Honda Odyssey, a Chevy Suburban, and a Nissan Altima, respectively. Father Gabriel, who made the decision to embark on this trip to Washington, as he had nothing left to live for in Georgia, sat waiting in the minivan with Tara. Eugene stayed with Rosita while Maggie had been with Judith, as well as Carl, before he awoke for the morning. They kept the cars a good bit away from the church and had spent the night guarding them.

Abraham, Tyreese and Rick gathered all their supplies and quietly took the trips back and forth to where the cars were stationed, making sure each car had ample food, gas, water, flashlights, ammunition, just in case their convoy got separated.

And inside, Carol, Sasha, and Glenn handled the most important task, which was coating the church in kerosene. Glenn took care of the hard parts – the ceilings and doorframes, while the ladies focused on the walls. They had to work quickly, before the smell tipped off the Termites.

"They're ready," Carl whispered outside to Michonne. He had been standing watch, awaiting the signal from Glenn.

She nodded, seeing that Rick was right on schedule, headed back towards them. She gestured for him to hurry, and he quickly jogged his way to the front steps of the church. "This is it," she told him as he arrived. "You sure about this?"

He nodded but didn't utter any words, his eyes focused on the hallway ahead of him.

"Be careful," she reminded him softly, grabbing his hand before he could go.

He hurriedly kissed her palm and smiled back at her. "Go on to the car."

She immediately followed orders, taking Carl with her, with Carol not far behind. Sasha, Daryl, and Glenn remained with Rick.

"You lock the door yet?" Rick looked over to Glenn. He was referring to the attic door, where he suggested Gareth and his crew sleep for the night to get some space. He added that they would take the larger area the following night, so as not to arouse too much suspicion. They'd fallen for it hook, line, and sinker.

"All done," he confirmed, throwing Rick the key to the padlock he placed on the door handle.

Rick sighed, handing each of them a lighter. He almost hated that this was what it had come to – he felt like Gareth actually trusted him on some small level. And maybe in another time or place, they could have come to some sort of truce, but these people had threatened his son, his wife; he killed Bob. The damage was already done. "Y'all ready?" They all nodded and he looked Daryl in the eye before he gave them one last instruction. "You light your corners and get the hell outta here," he reminded them.

With that, they were off.

Rick had the furthest end of the hallway to worry about, as well as the ceiling, but he moved swiftly and quietly to get it done. He started at the floor, just as he'd directed the others, and then used the end of a broomstick to set the ceiling on fire. The whole thing was ablaze within a matter of seconds. He met the other three outside, all of them nearly awed by the orange light already overtaking the place.

"Jesus," Glenn said, realizing that he had just aided in burning nine people alive.

Rick's thoughts echoed that same sentiment, but he knocked them away with a sigh, shutting the front doors to the church. Another chain and padlock went around its handles and he directed them to get a move on. "Y'all go on. I'll wait here." Someone had to hang around and make sure no one got out alive.

The three of them looked amongst each other hesitantly, but Sasha and Glenn did as instructed. Daryl stayed.

"I got this," Rick assured him, watching the blaze roar in the church windows as they stepped away from the building.

"I told you, you ain't gotta do all the heavy lifting."

Rick nodded in appreciation and the two brothers in arms stood there in silence, waiting. Waiting for their enemies to die. Waiting until they were sure they were dead. It wasn't long before they could hear the screams of those inside. The actual sound was faint, but to the two of them, it was deafening, knowing what was happening. It was almost sick.

After a while, they could hear someone banging on the door. Rick readied his gun and Daryl had his crossbow aimed, just in case they were able to break free, but the banging soon dissipated into silence. Nothing but crackling flames, the entire church embroiled in them.

Daryl watched Rick, seeing he was totally engrossed in the chaos before them. He could almost see the fire in his eyes. "Come on, man," he encouraged him to let it go now. "Ain't nobody surviving that."

Rick wasn't ready to leave yet. He almost couldn't believe it had been so easy. Just like that, the threat was gone? Just like that, it was time to leave Georgia? It had been his home, all he knew, for so long. He felt like he was watching his old life go up in flames with that church. He just wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. He slowly let his eyes rest on Daryl. "You sure about that?"

Daryl nodded insistently. "Yeah, man. You squash a bug like this, it ain't comin' back to life."

He was loath to agree, but common sense told him that Daryl was right. The two of them left the scene of their crimes, headed to catch up with the rest of their group. Rick made sure not to look back.

The day trudged on, their small caravan of cars moving slowly through the states below the Mason-Dixon Line. Between the silence and the lack of walkers, they were having a fairly uneventful trip towards Washington, DC, and it was much appreciated. The only real problem they'd encountered was a road blockage near Greensboro, so they had to detour through Raleigh instead. Nothing worth complaining about.

"Are we stopping for the night?" Sasha wondered from the backseat of the Altima. The sun had officially gone down, and Rick, who was driving the Suburban at the head of the group, didn't appear to be looking for places to set up camp.

"I dunno," Daryl answered from the driver's seat. "I'm followin' Rick."

"How far are we from DC?" Carol wondered.

"Least another three hundred miles," he figured, knowing North Carolina was pretty much the halfway point.

"We've been driving nearly fourteen hours," she returned incredulously.

"Trust me, that's good time," Tyreese supplied from behind her. "I thought it would take us about a week to get there."

"Me too," Daryl nodded. "We should be there tomorrow, the next day for sure, at this rate."

"Might be by morning if Rick doesn't stop," Sasha smirked.

Meanwhile, in the SUV, Rick was very clear that he wanted to find someplace to hole up for the night. He was getting tired, and they'd been on the road all day, save for a couple of bathroom and gas refill breaks. He exited the interstate in an area that looked typically suburban – fast food restaurants and gas stations, and likely some kind of mall nearby. It was all abandoned, of course, but he figured a safe neighborhood wouldn't be too far away.

He looked over to his son, who'd been sitting in the passenger seat for much of their trip, observing every single thing. He hadn't taken a nap, and only ate some stale potato chips as they drove. He seemed intent on being just as focused as his father.

"You okay?" Rick asked him softly, not wanting to wake the others.

"I'm fine," Carl looked over at his dad obliviously. "You?"

"Gettin' tired," he admitted. "But I'm all right."

"You know, that wouldn't be a problem if you let me drive," he offered hopefully, waiting to gauge his father's response.

Rick chuckled lightly to himself, amused that he was still on that. "I got a whole car full of people I'd let drive before you, kid. Including Judith."

Carl laughed. "That's cold, Dad."

"That's life."

He glanced out of the side view mirror, making sure Daryl and Abraham were still behind them. "Where are we going?" he wondered when Rick made a random right turn.

"Just gonna see what's down here. We need a house or two, maybe some kind of store."

"How about that?" Carl pointed to their right, where a large, empty parking lot sat, surrounding some sort of office building.

Rick definitely liked that the lot was abandoned. Hopefully, that meantthere were minimal walkers inside. "Nice catch," he noted, turning into the place.

He pulled into the handicapped spots directly in front of the building, watching as Daryl and Abraham did the same. In his rear view mirror, he could see Michonne was still fast asleep, with Judith propped over her shoulder, similarly knocked out. He hated to wake them, so he decided to wait until they cleared the building.

"Get your gun out and keep your eyes peeled," he told Carl quietly. "You holler if you hear anything."

Carl nodded, removing his hat so he could see better, and watched his dad silently exit the car. "Be careful," he told him.

Rick already had his pistol drawn as he approached Daryl and everyone in his car. "They're all asleep," he informed them when they saw no one else had retreated. "I thought we could see what's inside, and if there's too many, we'll find somethin' else."

"Office this big, it's surprising there are no cars out here," Tyreese noted.

"I thought the same," Rick nodded. "Let's hope that's a good sign."

Abraham and Tara joined the five of them and they immediately got into formation as they headed into the building. From the looks of things, it had probably been a pretty secure place back when electricity existed – there were several doors that had to be passed through before they came to the lobby. It was a beautiful space, really, with clean marble floors, some sort of security desk, and elevators situated across from them. The area was dusty, but there didn't seem to be a walker in sight.

"They must've shut down early on," Sasha realized with relief to her tone.

"We should check the other floors, but I think this place is empty," Daryl agreed.

They did exactly that, clearing all five floors of the building within an hour. There were only two walkers in the whole place, much to their surprise. They called in the others, who brought in their sleeping bags and any necessary supplies for the night, spreading out throughout the lobby.

"Nice find," Michonne smiled at her husband as he prepared their beds. They set up shop closest to the front door so that he could keep an eye out for their vehicles.

"Carl spotted this place, actually," he told her, taking Judith from her so that she could have a seat.

Impressed, she offered him a high five. "Good lookin' out, amigo."

He smirked proudly, happy that he had something to offer the group. He very much wanted to carry his own weight, and it seemed that being on the road was allowing him to do so. "Glad to be of service," he grinned.

"You most definitely were," Rick assured him, carefully lowering to the floor without waking his daughter. He rested against the security desk, letting his head fall back tiredly. "Today was a good day," he noted.

"Halfway to DC in one day?" Michonne acknowledged. "Definitely a good day."

He began to reply, but a giant yawn came out instead.

"Go to sleep," she told him, offering to take Judith back. She had been asleep most of the day while he did all the driving. "I can take watch."

"I'm all right," he shook his head. He really liked holding his daughter in these quiet moments. He didn't get much opportunity otherwise.

"Rick," she deadpanned. She crawled across the small distance between them, gently taking Judith and pushing him towards the sleeping back. "Go to sleep."

"You better listen to her, Dad. She used to threaten me with push-ups if I didn't go to bed back at the prison."

"You go to sleep too," she told Carl. "You haven't slept a wink today either."

As the new head of the Grimes family, they could only do as told. They got comfortable in their sleeping bags and were in a deep slumber within minutes. Michonne smiled in satisfaction, seeing her boys finally get the rest they so desperately needed.

It had been a long day. They were up at 3:00am, readying the plan for Gareth, and Rick certainly hadn't been getting a ton of rest before that. It wasn't lost on any of them, the weight of what they'd done and what it meant to kill all those people. She knew it had been heavy on Rick's mind, even if he had come to terms with it. Her husband was complicated and she loved that about him. He didn't do anything lightly – not love, not hate, and their decision would stay with him for a bit. So if that meant she had to force him to sleep, so be it. It was her job to protect him too.

The night hours rolled on and Rick found himself awoken by the sound of a walker at the front door. It was just one, thankfully, and he moved quickly to get outside and slay it before it brought any of its friends along. When he returned, he noticed Michonne sleeping uncomfortably against the security desk and discreetly woke her up.

"What's wrong," she frowned, seeing him kneeled in front of her.

"Come on," he whispered. He took Judith into his arms once again, carefully placing her in their layers of sleeping bags, safely beside her brother. He headed outside to the cars, waiting for Michonne to follow, and opened the back door of their SUV. He signaled for her to get in first, and hopped in after her.

"What are we doing?" she grinned in confusion.

It was just the two of them, in their private, warm little space, while everyone else slept in blissful ignorance. "It's just like we're back in the tombs," he proclaimed proudly.

She looked at him as if he were crazy. But she loved it. "I'm not fucking you in this car, Rick."

"You're so crass," he laughed out loud. "I just wanted to talk. Like we used to."

She smiled at him, in disbelief of how in love she was with this man. How he managed to be simultaneously goofy, sexy, caring, and rugged, she would never understand.

"Come here." He leaned against the car door, propping his right foot upon the seat, leaving a wide space for her to occupy between his legs. She gladly took it, resting happily in his embrace.

"What's got you feeling all romantic this evening?"

"I just like bein' close to you," he offered earnestly. He wrapped his arms around her waist, his hands resting over her barely there belly, knowing that their growing child was somewhere underneath. "Both of you."

She simply could not contain her smile. "We like being close to you, too."

"How are you feeling?"

She shook her head as she nestled into the crook of his neck. "Not bad today, actually. I think maybe the driving soothed her."

His eyes flashed down towards Michonne, wondering how she could possibly know what they were having. "Her?"

"Just a hunch." She rested her hand over his. "'But I also thought Andre would be a girl, so maybe don't listen to me."

He smiled at the fact that she said his name freely now. All that time at the prison, he wondered why she seemed scared of Judith and now he knew. Now, it was something they just talked about. "What was he like?"

"Andre?" she asked. "Oh god, he was the sweetest kid. He could be quiet when he wanted to, but for a toddler, he was very outgoing," she remembered dotingly. "He wasn't scared of strangers like most kids. He was just... happy."

Rick chuckled quietly. Carl was similar, always in conversation with someone, even from a very young age. Not much had changed, it seemed, though he was much more discerning about who he shared information with now. "I wonder what this one'll be like," Rick pondered out loud. "Strong and quiet, I think."

"Like you," she agreed.

He looked down at his wife with a smirk. "I meant like you."

No one could say they weren't similar. "Have you thought about names?" she looked up at him.

"I'm not good at that stuff," he sighed. "I let Carl name Judith."

"He told me," she remembered from a few weeks before. It was at the same time she told him about Andre. "Maybe he can name this one too."

"You haven't thought of any?"

"Nothing special enough," she shrugged. "I want something different. But not just weird for the sake of being weird, y'know?"

"Something like Michonne," he guessed.

"Sure," she chuckled lightly. "Only thing I came up with was Georgia, if it is a girl."

He looked out of the window ahead of them, unsure how he felt about that one. A lot of good things had happened to him there, but so had a lot of bad ones – especially in recent memory. "I think I'm gonna have to veto that one."

"Why?" she chuckled.

"I don't know if I wanna be reminded of that place every single day."

"But it's where we met. It's where we fell in love." She patted his face softly as she reminded him of all the good things. "It's where she was conceived."

"Yes," he allowed with a small sigh. "But it's also where we were when the world ended."

"Our worlds didn't end, Rick."

"Fair enough." He kissed the side of her temple and held her a little tighter. "If it's a boy, we're not naming him Prison or anything."

She laughed. "That's a deal."

"By the way," he realized suddenly, "I forgot, I have a surprise for you."

She was almost suspicious of what that could mean. "What kinda surprise?"

"It's in the console."

She leaned forward to check the space between the two front seats, wondering what it could possibly be. After a few seconds of fumbling, she pulled a Snickers bar into view. A big grin spread across her features. "For me?"

"I found it yesterday and I knew I had to save it for you."

She'd torn open the thing and bitten into it before he finished his sentence. It had been so long since she'd had one, she simply couldn't wait. It was stale, of course, but it was like heaven to her. "This right here?" Her mouth was full as she spoke. "This is like sex."

"I do something nice for you and the first thing you do is insult me?"

"Everything's not about you, baby," she supplied casually as she devoured the chocolate in nearly one bite.

"No, it's not," he agreed. "But you equate sex to a stale candy bar and I'm gonna take that personally."

"You wouldn't if you knew how much I loved stale candy bars."

He shook his head with a chuckle. He couldn't even chalk this up to a weird pregnancy craving – she always did love old candy, from the moment they met. "This poor kid is gonna be so weird."

She playfully elbowed him in the stomach. "You're not so normal yourself, cowboy."

"Are any of us, at this point?"

"No, I guess not," she conceded with a long yawn. She could fall asleep forever in his arms.

"You know what's funny?"

"What's that," she asked sleepily.

"We've spent a lot of time talking to each other. I feel like I know you inside out sometimes, but... I have no idea when your birthday is."

She chuckled quietly. "I guess that is something a husband and wife should know about each other."

"It probably doesn't matter anymore, but it's odd, isn't it? The kind of nonsense this world has taken away from us? Birthdays and anniversaries are nonexistent now."

"Only the important stuff is important."

He nodded, yawning himself now, his fingers intertwining with hers as they still rested on her tummy. "Just you and the kids…"

"You and the kids," she repeated. It was a simple statement, but it said so much. "You're such a good man," she sighed.

He replied with a small, wistful smile. "I don't know if that's true, but… I wanna be."

"You are," she promised him. "I told you this before, but the way you are with Carl astonishes me sometimes. And I had a good dad," she made sure to clarify, "I had a great dad, actually. But I'm not sure we would've made it as far as you two have, given these circumstances."

He appreciated her words more than he could say. "All I ever wanted, even before all this started, was to be someone Carl could be proud of. And I dunno… I feel like I've stumbled a lot along the way."

"You have. We all have. But you continually rise to the occasion, and it's a stunning thing to see." She squeezed his hand, willing herself not to cry. Her pregnancy hormones had begun to ruin every moment with tears. "It's not just in the way you protect them, but I've seen how you make the effort to be present in his life, to have conversations with him that actually mean something. And even ones that don't," she grinned. "Believe me, in thirty years, he'll be telling stories about you."

"All good ones, I hope," he let out a small chuckle.

"Maybe you haven't noticed, but he wants to be just like you, Rick. That's the biggest compliment you can ask for from a teenager."

She was right about that. Through all their ups and downs, Carl never wanted to disappoint his father; he only ever wanted him to be proud of him. Not to mention, he still refused to let go of that damn sheriff hat. "He's made it his sole purpose to protect this group," he realized, laughing.

"Sound familiar?"

"When you're right, you're right."

"When am I not right?"

"I could make you a list," he joked, his chest moving as he let out a silent laugh.

She closed her eyes as she smiled sleepily at him. She liked that he saved his lighter side for her. The rest of the group probably didn't know what a laugh from Rick Grimes even sounded like, but she sure did.

"By the way, since you didn't bother to ask, my birthday is September fourteenth," he declared once their amusement dissipated.

She snorted at his pretending to be offended, but took note of the date. "Interesting."

"Is it?"

"That was my sister's birthday," she revealed as she turned her head towards his chest. "I remember reading something that said September fourteenth people tended to be 'faithful and dutiful,' 'intellectually aggressive,' and 'enjoyed food, sex, and sleep enormously.'"

"Did you just make that up," he chuckled. He didn't believe in stars and signs and all that nonsense, but he couldn't deny that that sounded like himself.

"I swear I didn't," she giggled. "There was a lot more to it, but that's the part I gravitated toward, because it described Noemie to a tee."

"That's funny."

"I'm February fourteenth, by the way."

"Is that so?" In hindsight, that almost seemed obvious, knowing what he knew about her. The way she loved, it wouldn't have made sense for her to be born any other day.

She nodded.

"So wait. When we had that Valentine's dinner at the prison, you didn't think to say anything?"

"I didn't want anyone to make a fuss," she shrugged. "But don't worry, you gave me a lovely gift."

"Did I?"

She nodded against his chest again, loving the way his accent sounded so close to her ears. "And you got to eat some cake, so... yeah. We celebrated." She looked up at him, wondering if he would get the reference.

He could only shake his head and smile. "Michonne..."

"I'm crazy, I know."

"Precisely why I love you."

Her hand instinctively went to touch her necklace, making sure their rings were still in place. She did that every so often, always concerned for some reason that she would lose them. But then suddenly... "Whoa, did you feel that?"

They both sat up at the sensation they'd just felt in Michonne's stomach. It was a small flutter, but there was definite movement there.

"I did," Rick smiled widely, experiencing a swell of pride that he was able to catch it. "Was that the first time?"

"It was." She looked down at her stomach happily, tears forming in her eyes already. She was so glad Rick had been there for it. "I'm thinking maybe she doesn't like stale Snickers as much as I do?"

"Baby... nobody does," he assured her with raised eyebrows.

"Don't. ruin this moment."

"Jesus," he went back to marveling at the fact that their baby was moving already. "That was amazing." He'd missed this with Carl and Judith, having to run after some emergency or another in both instances. Lori always described it later, and he would get to feel the subsequent kicks, but this first time was... magical.

"Andre waited at least four or five months before he was kicking," she recalled warmly. This pregnancy was bringing back so many memories of him, and much to her surprise, she truly didn't mind. She even welcomed them. "But Georgia is clearly a daddy's girl already."

He was too happy to continue protesting that name at the moment. He just rested his chin over his wife's shoulder, their faces side by side, waiting for their baby to move again.

He wasn't sure what would happen when they got to Washington, but so far, everything was going according to plan. And usually, that would worry him, but maybe, he thought, it was time to stop worrying. In fact, maybe these were signs of good things to come. Killing Gareth, getting to North Carolina, even clearing their camp for the night had all come fairly easy. Maybe this new life, in a new state, was exactly the thing they needed.