!Warning! Pretty gruesome scenes and racist and sexist language coming up. This is, of course, not intended to offend anyone. Please read and review! Slight change of POV too.

Michonne drove fast, one hand on the wheel and the other arm leaning against the window. She kept her eyes on the road but periodically checks her rear view mirror when she's on a long stretch of road. She sees nothing. Michonne has been driving for about six hours, it now being around noon and she is feeling restless, her fingers drumming on the wheel. This was unlike her. She felt anxious.

Michonne had woken that morning on Rick's warm chest, and now she was hundreds of miles away. For at least half an hour she had stayed in that position, her head rising and falling with every breath he took. It was so warm nestled in the crook of his shoulder that she didn't think she could leave. Rick was right; she was an idiot for leaving. But she had too. Michonne knows what she's done, knows why the Governor wants her dead. She put down his daughter and is now was paying for it. She does not regret it, of course, the only regret is that she had not cut him down that day they saw the helicopter fall.

She thinks back to Rick. It had physically pained her to sit up and get dressed, her want to stay being that strong. After draping his coat over him, she paused at the door and the thought that she could still change her mind, still wake him up and tell him that she was staying, occurred to her. Michonne imagined his eyes crinkling as a grin spread across his weathered face. She shook her head to try and rid the thought, grabbed the handle, and walked out the door. Her eyes scanned the tree line but she saw nothing, and so she walked down to where Daryl was meeting her.

Michonne had chosen to ask Daryl to open the gate for her, not Rick. She did not want to look back and see him standing there, watching her go. The day earlier, when she had gone to the kitchens to get Rick and hers meals, she had met Daryl and told him of her plan. He nodded, scowling as though it were sunny, and asked if she's sure. She said yes. They agreed to meet in the parking lot where she already had the jeep all packed, just before sunrise.

Now she was driving down a narrow lane, about ten miles from the nearest highway. Michonne tries to focus on the road, tries to watch her mirrors, but Rick's face keeps appearing in her mind. She wishes so badly that she could have been there when he woke up, could have watched him get dressed again, they could have had breakfast together. But no, she had done the right thing by leaving. He and Carl were safe now, she told herself. Her plan would work however long it took. Then why did she feel so uneasy, why were her fingers drumming the wheel or her foot tapping the floor of the jeep? Michonne shakes her head to try and erase these thoughts. She was just upset about leaving them, that was all.

Michonne sees an all too familiar silhouette on the left side of the road, one shape leaning over another, eating it. She doesn't know why, but as she approaches it she slows down. As she comes closer her eyes widen and she comes to a stop, just a few feet and a metal door separating her from the walker kneeling on the curb.

The thin walker was male and wearing a police uniform. The dark navy was stained black with dried and fresh blood from the dog it was eating, and the walker's sagged and rotten skin gave it away as having turned many many months ago. As she stared at him, the walker lazily looks up from the exposed stomach of the dog, entrails hanging from his teeth. His cloudy eyes stare back at her, his jaw droops and rises grotesquely as he chews. The late afternoon sunlight catches the gold badge still pinned to his chest, the metal now dull and waxy looking. Michonne looks at the badge for a long time, anxiety bubbling in her stomach and up her throat.

The walker gazes dumbly at her as he swallows, then looks back down and grabs another fistful of meat and brings it to his gaping mouth. Blood spatters over the badge. Michonne blinks, then frowns and checks her mirrors again.

Xxx

It is late afternoon and Rick and Carl are in the garden. Carl's nibble fingers are quick at harvesting the bean pods, Rick's not so much. He tries not to gaze off into the tree line, half hoping that he will see Michonne walk into his sight, so much like the first time he had ever seen her. Rick knows Carl sees him do this, sees him stare off aimlessly, but his son doesn't say anything about it. Rick wants to talk to Carl about this, about him and Michonne, but he did not want to do this today. Today he would practise living at the prison without Michonne.

Daryl had taken Tyreese and Sasha on that run up north this morning; they had left just a little while after Michonne. This meant that Rick was on guard duty for the majority of the night, leaving him with even more waking time to replay his moments with Michonne. Not just the sexual ones, but the conversations they had shared as well. He felt as though a small part of him had up and vanished in the night, but he tries hard not to think on it.

Rick suddenly hears a scream and looks out over the field, as does Carl. The scream comes from outside the fences. His eyes quickly rake the area from which he heard the scream come, and he sees them.

A young woman with a child in her arms, a boy, who was screaming. She desperately tries to shush him but he wails and wails, and then she catches sight of them and screams too as she tries to step on her obviously injured leg.

"Please!" She wails, "Please help us!"

"Dad!" Carl yells, looking to his father. Rick takes off running towards the nearest break in the inner fence, Carl close on his heels.

The woman screams louder as she sees them approach. "Oh god, please help me!"

"You need to be quiet!" Rick shouted back. Luckily this patch of field was away from the largest clusters of walkers, but hers and the child's screams were quickly attracting them. Rick watches as a group no more than forty feet away turns and starts stumbling toward the pair.

"Dad, we have to do something!" Carl hisses.

Rick's mind whirs. Something isn't right about this; there is no way that this woman could have walked through these woods with a screaming infant and a hurt leg. That would have been impossible. Judging by her clothes she couldn't have been in the woods from more than a few days, they were too clean. Rick tries to calculate the best action to take.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Carl dart from his side and through the opening of the gate, and then sprints down the corridor created by the inner and outer fence.

"Carl!" Rick bellows, "Carl, get back here now!" He takes after him.

"They need help, we can get them, hurry!"

Carl wasn't listening to him. The boy runs to the place where they had cut a hole in the fence and bound it with wire, meant for quick access or escape. His nimble fingers make easy work of the bindings and he pushes through the opening, his sheriffs' hat falling off into the dirt. He pulls out his gun.

"Dad don't worry, I got them!" Carl sprints over the field toward them, the nearest walker still ten feet off. Rick takes out his gun.

Just as Carl reaches them two quick shots fire through the air and Rick flinches and blinks. He watches as the three figures, Carl, the girl and the child, all fall to the ground.

"Carl!" Rick screams, the sound tearing out of his throat. He reaches the opening in the fence and pushes himself through it, barely noticing the metal catching and tearing at the skin on his arms and neck.

The sight that greets him as he looks up stops Rick completely. To his horror, the Governor is holding Carl upright by the neck, a gun pointed at his temple. Carl was bleeding from the shoulder and it looked like he had been shot. Rick could see that his son was shaking. The two bodies of the girl and the child lie in the grass at Carl's feet, looking as though one bullet had passed through her neck and entered the head of the little boy. Walkers were approaching them now, slowly but surely. Rick tries to breath but it is as though the world no longer had oxygen. Angry tears well up in his eyes as he stares at Carl, who stares back at him, and the Governor smiles.

"Please," Rick begs, "Please don't hurt him. He has nothing to do with this."

The Governor grins wider and Rick sees him reach behind and pull a hunting knife out from his belt. He brings the knife to rest on the soft tissue just below Carl's right eye. Rick sees that Carl is breathing very quickly.

"I disagree," The Governor says lazily, "I think he has a fair bit to do with this."

Rick steps foreword but the Governor steps back, dragging Carl with him. "Now, now Rick. Don't do anything foolish here. I would hate to have to maim your boy out here in the open like this."

Rick swallows. "What do you want?"

The Governor laughs. "I want you to watch as I kill your boy, watch as I hang him from a tree. Then I want you to help me catch that cunt Michonne. You won't have to do much, seeing your body at the gates aught to do it. Then you're going to watch as I make that bitch of yours squeal." He presses the knife deeper into Carl's skin and Rick sees a bead of blood run down his cheek.

The walkers were too close now, but Rick couldn't move.

"Now drop your gun," Rick's lips quiver but he does this, "Good, now follow me."

Rick hears noises from inside the prison, shouts for him and Carl. He doesn't look back as he slowly follows the Governor into the tree line, watching Carl's face as he is lead backward. He knows Carl is trying to be strong, but he sees tears falling out of his wide eyes.

Xxx

They walk a long distance, Rick out in front at the Governors command with him and Carl in the rear. Rick glances back every couple of seconds to see the gun still pointed at his sons head and the knife still at his eye. At last, after what had to have been an hour of walking through the woods, they reached a small camp. There was a small, muddy truck parked in the middle and a fire pit not far from that.

"You," He says to Rick. "There is a pair of hand cuffs on the hood of the car. Cuff yourself to the grill."

Rick glares at him and doesn't move. The Governor presses his knife harder into Carl's face and blood really begins to flow.

"Alright!" The Governor sneers as Rick walks to the car and does what he is told, cuffing his left wrist to the car, though leaving the cuff as loose as possible. He didn't know what else to do. If he had acted then the Governor would have shot Carl. Rick's brain was working on overdrive. Oh god, please Jesus let Carl survive.

The Governor smirks. "You know, I've been alone for a long time now, haven't met anyone worth talking to. Those," He nods in the direction which they had come from, referring to the bodies of the girl and the young boy, "those can't be considered people. They were pathetic, couldn't even look after themselves! I found them on the road, can you believe that? Just walking, like they were going somewhere." He licks his lips and grins, and Rick's skin crawls, "The girl paid me how she could."

Rick's face crinkles with disgust. The girl can't have been more than fourteen.

The Governor laughs, "I know what you're thinking 'she was a child, how could I?', but I can tell you, there are plenty of things children will do in this world to survive. Now that's something your boy here has to learn."

Carl spits at the Governor's shoes.

"Carl!" Rick shouts. He begs god not to let his son die here, today.

The Governor gives a hearty laugh, "He's feisty! Maybe I'll keep him." He turns to Rick, "How would that make you feel, Rick? How would it make you feel to know that your son is traveling the country with a man like me, that I would make him do the things that a man like me does? I imagine a moral man such as yourself wouldn't care too much for it."

Rick remains silent. He prays for something to happen, anything that would allow Carl to survive this. He didn't care what happens to him, just as long as Carl made it through.

"Who knows, maybe I'll even let him do the honours when I find Michonne, and trust me when I say that I will find her. What do you think about that, boy?" He squeezes Carl's face hard with the hand that holds the knife, and Rick sees his son cringe in pain, "Would you like to have yourself a little dark meat?"

Rick's blood boils. Angry tears stream down his face but he can't do anything. He feels so fucking helpless. He can't believe that this is the end, not after everything they had seen and survived. He and his son couldn't die here, in the middle of the woods, murdered by a fucking lunatic. Plans flew through Rick's mind, each more desperate than the last. Any quick movement he made would result in Carls being shot, and then him. If he did nothing the Governor would eventually kill him and either kill or take Carl. Rick exhales, trying not to groan.

"No?" The Governor taunts Carl, who says nothing, "More for me then." In a movement as quick as a flash the Governor slashes at Carl's face and kicks his knee backward. Carl's gurgled yell fills the clearing as he crumples to the forest floor, his leg buckling under his own weight. Rick bellows swears at the Governor from where he is cuffed to the car and watches as Carl brings his hands to his face to stop the heavy bleeding.

The Governor strides toward Rick, leaving Carl to curl up on the ground. "You, on the other hand, I know you'd want a piece." He punches him hard in the ribs and Rick feels a crack. Another hard punch send him to his knees, his cuffed arm raised above him now. "I bet she's good too," He kicks again, "bet she sucks dick like only a whore knows how."

The Governor kicks him in the ribs and Rick feels them break, then the man leans down toward Rick on the ground as he holds his ribs, "Tell me, does she taste good?" He wages his tongue.

Rick spits in his face. Out of his peripherals he sees Carl stirring, so his instinct tells him to keep the Governor distracted. Maybe, just maybe, if Carl could get up and run he could make his way back to the prison.

The Governor wipes a hand down his face and scowls fiercely. "You really are a fucking idiot." He stands straight and knees Rick in the face. He feels his nose break and blood begins to flood out of his nostrils. He nearly chokes at the pain. Rick tries to take a breath but it is knocked out as the Governor kicks him hard in the chest with his steel-toed boots. Rick feels his shoulder pop as his arm comes out of its socket, his wrist still cuffed to the grill of the truck. Rick gives a yell, the sound muffled through the gushing blood.

Again and again the Governor hits him in his face and chest and kicks him in his ribs. The pain becomes so extreme that he has trouble even keeping his eyes open. He tries to focus on the spot where Carl had been, but whether he was gone or Rick was just too disoriented to see, he couldn't find him. The Governor didn't seem to notice.

"That's right you fucking bitch!" He hits him in the jaw, "I'll make you wish you were dead!" He hits him in the cheek, "But I'm not going to let you die, not until you've seen what I'm going to do to that precious nigger of yours! I bet you'll vomit when you see me inside her."

The Governor brings his foot down on his chest again and Rick doubles over, unable to breathe.

"And when I'm done, I'm going to cut you and your boy up in front of her. But don't worry I'm not going to kill her." He grins, "I'll keep her as my pet." Rick, somehow, raises his head enough to look at the man arched above him. "Now, let's get you up, wouldn't want to miss Michonne when she comes back. It's just too bad I lost that key," He nods to the handcuffs as he pulls the hunting knife out of his belt, "I suppose I'll just have to improvise." He raises his hand over Rick's cuffed wrist.

Rick cringes away as there is a swirl of silver. He sees a hand drop to the earthy floor. He feels warm blood spray over his face and chest and he looks up to the Governor holding the bleeding stump of his arm. Behind him, standing straight with her sword gripped in her hands, was Michonne.

The Governor turns, dumbstruck, and his sights fall on Michonne. She smiles at him.

"Phillip." She raises her katana and places it over his heart, the tip just creasing the fabric of his shirt. Slowly, she pushes harder. Rick hears the Governor gasp as the sword breaks his skin and enters his chest. Michonne, very slowly, pushes the sword in deeper, an almost indifferent expression on her face. Rick sees the point of the sword emerge out of his back, Michonne not even putting enough force behind it to piece the fabric. She was making this last.

Michonne brings her face close to the Governor's. "After all that talk… and now I'm the one inside you." She wrenches her sword up and out, and the sharp blade separates the Governor's shoulder from his neck. He crumples to the ground and blood flows freely from the gaping wound, quickly pooling in the earth. His eyes bulge as he raises his stump of an arm in a pathetic and reflexive attempt to stop the bleeding. His wet gasps fade out as he quickly bleeds to death.

Michonne is at Rick's side in a second. "Carl," He stammers, coughing on the blood in his mouth, "Where's Carl?"

"He's here, he's fine! I carried him behind the car." Her hands hover over his broken face and he sees that tears are falling from her dark eyes, "Jesus Christ Rick, we have to get you back."

He groans as she stands and hurries to the door of the truck. Rick tries not to fall unconscious as he hears her rummaging around in the back. His world is hazy and shaky and the corners of his sight are trimmed in black. He spits up a mouthful of blood.

Michonne returns and he sees a pair of bolt-cutters in her hands. "Rick, just hang on! I've got you." She quickly clips the metal loops linking the handcuffs and his arm falls heavily to his side. He screams as red hot pain courses through his entire body.

"Shit! Rick, put your arm around me!"

He is barely aware when she snakes his other arm around her shoulders and heaves up. He screams again, more viciously this time, as he feels his broken ribs shift under his skin. He could vomit it was so painful.

She unceremoniously drags him to the trunk of the truck and pushes him in, not stopping as his screams intensify. "I'm sorry!" She yells at him.

He remains conscious just long enough to hear her lift Carl into the car as well. He hears Carl ask about him. He can't make out her reply before he closes his eyes and the world goes black.

Xxx

Hope this wasn't too graphic! I haven't read the comics but I know what happens, so even though I'm not including it I still wanted to show him as the absolutely abominable character that he is.

Please tell me what you guys think! I live for the reviews. There will most likely just be one chapter of this left, but who knows!