A/N: Just FYI, this chapter is a remix of the flashbacks from the season 6 premiere, so it's set between the morning after Pete and Reg's deaths, but before the quarry plan goes live. Thanks to those who are reading and reviewing-I'm grateful to have you along for this story. I'm excited we finally made it to this season because are so many great moments I have been looking forward to working with. Hope you enjoy!

Face washed. Teeth brushed. Hair pulled back. Sweater, pants, and boots on. Michonne stood in front of the standing mirror in her room, not looking at her reflection, but rather just beyond it to the corner where her katana rested against the wall.

After Reg's senseless death the night before, she had made the decision to remove the katana from its short-lived home over the fireplace, returning it to her custody where she, and she alone, would be responsible for its use. As she stood there in the light of a brand new day, she now wondered how this would work. She picked up the sword and slipped the strap over her shoulder then looked at herself. Her eyes drawn to hilt of the sword peeking out from over her shoulder. We don't need them here. She still wanted to believe that, but the past twelve hours had all but dashed that hope. She lifted the strap up over her head and returned the katana to its place in the corner. She then walked over to her dresser, opening the top left drawer and shifting her intimates to the side to uncover a small knife with a leather belt clip. She removed it and slid the drawer shut then attached the holder to her belt, unsheathing the four inch blade for quick inspection before returning it to its holder. She then exited the room, shutting the door behind her, and made her way down the stairs and out the front door to take a few laps around the block to get some fresh air and stretch her legs before going to the Infirmary to visit Tara.

"He went that way to check in on Morgan a few minutes ago, if you care," Daryl called out to her before she had even stepped off the porch.

She tilted her head to the side, giving him an annoyed look while she walked toward the curb, just in front of the spot in the street where he was working on his motorcycle.

"I said if you care…" in response to her look.

She ignored him, and changed the subject as she pointed at the bike.

"You fixing to leave us again?"

"Apparently not," he answered glumly. "Rick doesn't think we need to be out there looking for people right now. Way I see it, though, we're down two more…" he said as he finished tightening the fastener he was working on before looking up at her. "What the hell happened here?"

"I don't even know," she said as she shook her head in exasperation at the events of the past few days.

"That ain't like you, Michonne. You're always on it, picking things up when he's falling down."

"Not sure how much you can do when everyone's falling down at the same time, even me depending on who you ask…"

Daryl grunted indifferently in response as he returned his attention to his motorcycle maintenance.

"Do whatever you think is best, but just know I wouldn't mind you sticking around for a bit. May help restore the balance around here..."

"Yeah, all right," he mumbled.

She took off down the street, passing their group's second house then the Anderson's. She looked up to see the piece of plywood that was covering their front window, a reminder of the fight which was the first in a series of unfortunate events that she hoped had finally ended. She rounded the corner and walked past the main gate then on toward the armory. Once she was almost past it, a set of scaffolding came into her view, peeking out slightly from behind the building. She spotted Dev, his hair pulled back and wearing a faded pair of paint splattered jeans and a white long sleeved t-shirt, sitting on the raised platform in front of the wall, the top quarter of which was painted solid white.

"Hey," she called out as she walked up onto the curb and around the back of the armory.

He looked down from his spot to see her now standing at the base of the scaffolding, shielding her eyes from the sun as she looked up at him.

"Hey," he returned. He was still warm, but more subdued than usual.

"You started without me?" she asked pointing at the spread of white on the wall.

"It's just the primer."

"Yeah, but that's all I'm fit to do."

"Somehow I doubt that," he said managing a small grin as he looked down at her. "I'm going on a run in a few days, and I wanted it to be prepped so I can start when I get back. It's also a decent distraction. Come on up."

She hesitated for a moment, feeling as though there was something else that she should be doing instead, but came up with nothing. No job, no emergency, and her visit with Tara could wait a few minutes. He watched as she nimbly climbed up the bars running up the side and stepped onto the platform, checking to make sure there wasn't any wet paint on it before lowering herself into the empty space next time him. He reached back and handed her a clean paint brush then pulled the tray of primer between them.

"Thought I'd been let go from another job…" she said dryly, attempting to achieve some levity; although the thought did sting. Having never been fired from a job in her past life, the possibility of losing two non-paying volunteer gigs in less than 48 hours was not something she was proud of.

Dev looked at her and gave a sympathetic pout, having heard Deanna announce that Michonne had been "relieved of her duties" at Rick's hearing the previous night.

"She'll come around," he assured her. "She's got a lot to work through right now."

Michonne nodded knowingly. The woman had not only lost her one half of her family, but she had a community in crisis right now, and Michonne's problems now paled in comparison to hers. They settled into a comfortable silence for a moment, looking out over the walls from their high perch. It was a quiet, sunny day. There were scattered, single walkers, but they were being taken out by whomever was in the watchtower. Given the speed and precision with which it was being done, she'd venture a guess that Sasha was on duty.

"Last night…" Dev started somberly, his voice pulling her attention away from the outside, "walkers are one thing, but seeing a man take the life of another? You've seen that before?"

"Yeah," she confirmed quietly. Not just seen she thought to herself. He wore a pained expression that told her that this was the first time he'd been exposed to it.

"I couldn't sleep."

"Neither could I...it's not something you should ever get used to," she assured him. He nodded finding some comfort from her validation of his feelings. He wasn't too soft, he was just human.

"Reg was a good man. He's the reason I'm here."

Michonne set her paint brush down at her side and gave Dev her full attention.

"I was wondering how that came about. Going from London to Alexandria."

"I was on a long term assignment in D.C., and my company put me up in a condo that happened to neighbor the one they stayed in while Deanna was in session. I met Reg down in the lobby one day, the doorman introduced us actually, and we hit it off. We talked movies, football or soccer, rather, the news," he reminisced. "When the epidemic started, they grounded all international flights so I couldn't get back home. Deanna tried to use her pull to get me on a military charter to Europe with foreign diplomats and officials, but it didn't work out, so they told me to come to Ohio with them because they didn't want to leave me alone. We were diverted to this place while we were on the road, and the rest is history."

"So you've been here from the start..."

"I have. I helped Reg build these walls then after that, I checked out. I went on runs and helped around the community, but I never imagined it would last, so I never invested that much into it. Here we are two years later, though, and what have I really done?"

"Walls and supplies?" she asked incredulously. "You've helped ensure the safety and sustainability of the community."

"The other day, you asked why I hadn't used my previous work experience to help Deanna, and I gave you some reasons. None of them good, though," he said as he looked out over the wall, a bit lost in his thoughts. "I can't help but think that if I had, things may have turned out differently."

"How?"

"Maybe Reg would still be here," he offered first as he looked back at her.

"You can't blame yourself for what Pete did."

"Are you telling me you you don't blame yourself? I saw the look on your face when you took that sword from him."

"No," she said quietly as she dropped her chin to her chest and looked down toward the ground. "I can't tell you that."

"So you understand all of the what-if's that are running through my head right now," he asked as he watched her nod in agreeance. "If some of the others and me would have stepped up and put pressure on Deanna to deal with the Pete situation earlier, maybe none of this would have happened."

"You knew about Pete?" she asked looking back at him.

"Everyone did," he said shaking his head with disgust, mostly for Pete, but also at his own complacency. "I almost got my ass kicked for bringing Jessie and the boys a set of oil paints a few months ago. He was a problem that we let get out of hand. Deanna didn't act, but we were complicit because we never said anything. There's so much more, but…" he hung his head low, grasping at his temples with his thumb and forefinger before running his hand down over his face.

Michonne placed her hand on his back, gently rubbing it for a moment before she pulled it away. She recognized a familiar mix of regret and loneliness in him; a pain she knew well, one that seemed to come back no matter how many times she thought she'd put it behind her.

"So you change going forward," she said as she leaned down to catch his eye. "That's the name of the game." And it truly was; what sounded like hollow advice was, in fact, the key to survival.

He closed his eyes tightly, then finally lifted his chin to look at her.

"You've made a big impression on me, Michonne."

"Me?" she asked as she sat up and straightened her back.

"Yes. I know that sounds crazy since I hardly know anything about you-nothing, actually, except that you have some kind of connection to art," he said shaking his head, "but it's not for lack of trying."

"It's not personal," she said in almost a whisper, feeling slightly guilty for constantly rebuffing his attempts to get to know her.

"I'd hoped so as. The thing is, though, I still like you. There's something about you...I imagine we were similar people before everything changed. High achievers, did well in school then at work. Married to your career, but finding time for interests, like art and travel or whatever else you liked. The difference is, though, that you took your abilities and used them to become the best version of yourself in this world, and I didn't. I let too much go, but you're making me see that, and you're making me want to try." Michonne was still, feeling a bit stunned by the words he was saying to her. He'd sensed certain things about her, but there was so much he didn't know. Regardless, though, she couldn't imagine how her life could be aspirational to someone else when she was so unsure of what she was doing herself at this moment. "It might be too late, but-"

xxx

Rick darted out of the house upon learning from Carl that Michonne wasn't home, and set off on a lap around the neighborhood to find her, figuring Deanna's or the Infirmary would be the next most likely places she'd be. He came to a stop across the street from the armory, though, when he spotted her atop some temporary scaffolding set up next to the wall just behind the building. He watched her for a moment, sitting with her legs dangling over the edge while facing the outside. Her hands grasped the edge of the platform as she leaned forward and toward her companion, listening intently to whatever he was saying. The man was younger, taller, and lankier than him with a darker complexion and hair. He'd seen him in passing, but didn't know anything about him, not even his name. His initial response was one of surprise at seeing Michonne seeming so familiar with this man, but he wasn't even sure if his surprise was warranted or not since much of how Michonne spent her time had become a mystery to him since entering the walls. He began to walk away, not wanting to interrupt her or perhaps even intrude on something he wasn't sure he was supposed to be seeing, but he stopped himself and turned back because he didn't want to keep this from her.

"Michonne?" he called up, taking both her and her friend by surprise, causing them to stop talking and turn to look at him. "Afternoon," he said nodding at the man before looking at Michonne. "Can I have a word?"

He watched as she excused herself from her companion then quickly scaled down the scaffolding with that graceful form of athleticism she possessed; he smiled to himself as he was usually in the thick of action with her and rarely got to see it from afar, a feat all the more impressive when done in the nice, new clothing she'd been sporting as of late. She walked toward him and then led him a few steps farther, stopping and looking at him expectantly when they were finally out of earshot.

"What are you up to?" he asked while pointing back at the half painted wall.

"Just helping Dev with a project."

"What kind of project?" he questioned with genuine curiosity.

"It's…" she hesitated for a moment before deciding not to elaborate given she was still smarting over his jab at her softer lifestyle in Alexandria, "nothing. What's up?"

"Well, I'm sorry to interrupt you like this, but something came up that I didn't think should wait."

She nodded and continued to look at him, waiting for him to continue. He swallowed hard, then rubbed at the scruff on his chin nervously before continuing.

"When Morgan and I went out today, we came upon a huge herd trapped in a quarry just a few miles down Branton Road."

"How many are we talking?" she asked. The awkwardness between them quickly dissipated as she seamlessly transitioned to strategizing with him. It was a type of conversation that flowed with easily between them, the one where they felt most comfortable with each other.

"Hundreds, pushing a thousand maybe?"

"A thousand?" she repeated, her eyes wide at the implication of a threat like that.

"Closer to it than not. There are two semi's blocking the exit, and some walkers are already slipping through. One of those semi's falls or one hard rain-"

"And they're at our gates within a few days…" she finished automatically. "I guess this is how they've gotten by here without any major problems."

"Exactly. We got damn lucky with this break, and now we gotta act on it."

"So what do you want to do?" she asked assuming he'd already come up with something and merely wanted her support on it. He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, feeling slightly silly that his plan was literally just to talk to her.

"I haven't gotten there yet. I wanted to come to you first. See what you thought. I don't even know where I stand with Deanna, so I figured we could come up with something and go to her together."

"Well, I'm not sure where I stand with her either so I don't know how much good that'll do," she said coolly.

"What do you mean?"

"She asked me to step down the other night," she explained knowing that Rick hadn't heard the announcement since he missed his public forum the previous night.

"What? Why?" he sputtered.

"She thought it was for the best with everything that happened."

"Why didn't you tell me? I can talk to her, tell her you had nothing to do with the guns."

"She knows, but she was worried about how it would look to everyone else," she said with a shrug.

He paused for a moment and looked at her remorsefully, inhaling deeply and sighing through his nose, his lips pressed together in a small frown. He'd lied to her, disappointed her, and come to find out, caused her to lose the position she'd sought out and put so much of her time into. Time that was meant to translate into a better life for his children, themselves, and the community.

"I'm sorry, Michonne. I had no idea."

"It is what it is," she said in lieu of accepting his apology.

He paused again, taking a deep breath in and out, before stepping in closer to her and bending slightly so that his face was level with hers.

"You said something's gonna happen, right?"

She nodded silently in response.

"Deanna has to act on this, and she has no idea how. She needs us. There's no way around it," he explained. "Look, I know that we've been seeing things differently lately," he said as he placed his right hand flat on his chest, "but I know you want to keep this place safe, so I'm asking for your help with this. If we can take care of this herd before it becomes a problem, I'm hoping that it'll go a long way towards righting the things I did, keeping us here, and getting you back to the work you were doing." He stayed bent down at her level, searching her face for a reaction until she shut her eyes briefly before nodding.

"Rick, I told you that no matter what our assignments were, we would always work together to keep this place safe. There should never be any question about that." She watched as he straightened up, visibly relieved to have her on board. "Just let me finish up here then I'll meet you back at the house so that we can get started."

"OK…"

She turned away from him, and he watched as she walked back towards Dev, who was now on the ground awaiting her return as he leaned against the scaffolding fiddling with the paintbrush in his hand. Just before she reached him, Rick peeled his eyes away from her and turned to head back to their home.

xxx

"My team...we came across the quarry early on when we were on one of our first scouting trips of the area," Dev explained as he shifted his focus from the roomful of his friends and neighbors to Michonne who stood just a few feet from him, her arms folded across her chest as she listened intently. "There was a camp at the bottom. I assume the people must have blocked the exits with one of those trucks when everything started going bad, but they didn't make it. They were all roamers, only about a dozen of them when we found them."

"No one's been back since?" Maggie asked from her seat on the couch.

"No. D.C. and every town worth scavenging are all in the other direction. It didn't seem like the best use of our resources to head back in that direction. That was my call." He shifted in place as he owned up to his decision, something he was surprised to find himself defending two years after the fact.

"Of course," Michonne said, validating his decision, before turning her head toward the front of the room where Rick stood looking back at her. "So all the while the walkers have been drawn by the sound, and they're making more sound and drawing more in," she deduced.

"And here we are," he said with a sigh, nodding at her before looking up to address the entire room. "Now what I'm proposing, I know it sounds risky, but walkers are already slipping through the exits. One of the trucks keeping the walkers in could go off the edge any day now. Maybe after one more hard rain. That exit sends them east. All of them. Right at us. This isn't about if it gives, it's when. It's gonna happen. That's why we have to do this soon."

Michonne's eyes darted around the room as she tried to gauge the reaction of their fellow community members to Rick's plan. Although they'd drafted this plan together before engaging Daryl, Morgan, and Glenn for support prior to the meeting; Michonne had suggested that Rick present it to Deanna and the group since his reputation was most in need of repairing at this time. She was met with mostly blank stares and apprehensive looks, the most animated of all belonging to her roommate.

"This is…" Carol stammered nervously as she looked around the room. "I don't even have another word for it. This is terrifying. All of it. But it doesn't sound like there's any other way." Michonne didn't care for her melodramatic delivery, but she had to appreciate her effort to rally the community's support for this plan.

"Maybe there is," Dev wondered aloud drawing Michonne's attention back to him. "Couldn't we just build up the weak spots? I could draw up plans. I worked on the wall with Reg," he offered, earnest, though misguided. "Construction crew," he said looking at Tobin and Bruce, "we can try and make it safe."

"Even if we could, the sound of those walkers is drawing more and more every day. Building up the exits won't change that," Rick practically scoffed as he waved his hand dismissively at the idea.

"We're gonna do what Rick says, the plan he's laid out," Deanna said firmly as she stared out of her living room window, where she'd stood with her back to the crowd throughout the entire meeting.

"I told you all, we're gonna have Daryl leading them away," Rick continued.

"Me, too," Sasha volunteered. "I'll take a car, ride next to him. Can't just be him. I'll keep 'em coming, Daryl keeps 'em from getting sloppy." Rick nodded in appreciation.

"I'll go with her," Abe offered unsolicited. "It's a long way to white-knuckle it solo." Rick again nodded, in agreement with his assessment and with appreciation for his support.

"We'll have two teams. One on each side of the forest helping manage this thing. We're gonna have a few people on watch from now on. Rosita, Spencer, and Holly," Rick said as he pointed out the community's newest snipers. "So they're out. So who's in?"

Rick looked out across the room, met with silence and inaction despite Deanna's endorsement of their plan.

"Me," said the voice to his immediate right after a beat. He looked over to acknowledge Michonne, but found her looking down then away, seemingly avoiding his eye contact. He supposed she felt silly volunteering a plan that was as much hers as his, but she was playing the game.

"I'm in," Glenn followed after quietly conferring with Maggie.

"Who else? We need more," Rick said as he scanned the silent room.

"I just have to wonder if there's another play," Dev asked. Michonne could tell by his calm, rational approach that he wasn't trying to be adversarial, he was only expressing his concern. "I'm worried about controlling that many walkers."

"I said it before," Rick repeated with agitation as he cocked his head to one side, "walkers herd up."

"They'll follow a path if something's drawing them," Michonne cut in as she looked to Dev, hoping to avoid a blow up while reassuring and educating him and the others at the same time. "That's how we can get them all at once."

Dev nodded his head then looked down to the floor. He knew she was right and he trusted her judgment given her experience, but he still had his doubts about the plan.

"I'll do it," David volunteered.

"Me, too," Francine said from her spot next to him.

"Whatever you need," Dev said looking up at Michonne. "I'm in."

Michonne gave him an appreciative look then turned her attention to the room as several others followed suit and began to lend their support to the plan.

"We'll make this work. We'll keep this place safe. Keep our families safe. We will," Rick promised, looking both satisfied with and encouraged by the swell in support. He looked to Michonne with a trace of a grin which she returned with a nod. He was determined, hopeful, and inclusive in his statement to the group; he still had much to prove to these people, but she saw a flash of the fierce, protective leader she knew him to be.