A/N: Just a quick warning for those trying to stay completely spoiler free-the remaining chapters take place after the season 6 mid-season finale. Some of the material draws inspiration from the comics, promos, and filming reports.

"What are you up to?"

Michonne stood in the doorway of the dimly lit upstairs bedroom, waiting for a response from its lone inhabitant before entering.

"Reading," he said curtly without looking up from his spot in his unmade twin bed.

She slowly proceeded into the room not only to avoid tripping over something she wasn't able to see, but also because her presence didn't feel welcome at all.

"Reading what?" she asked once she made it to the bedside. She heard him sigh before he lowered the book into his lap and looked up at her.

"Lord of the Flies."

Of all the books… she thought to herself. It certainly wasn't a light read or escapism for him. It was closer to his life than not, then again, perhaps that's why he was reading it. Perhaps it was comforting to see your world on those pages instead of a life you'd never know.

"You haven't finished it yet? Seems like you've been reading this one for a while."

"Nope."

"Maybe a little light would help," she suggested as she began walking toward the window in front of his bed. It was 10:00 AM on a sunny early autumn day, but you'd never know it by being in this room.

"Maybe having two eyes would, too," he said sarcastically to her back. She froze in place for moment, her hand still gripping the curtain as she turned to find him awaiting her response.

"It probably would," she said honestly. He stared back at her, looking almost disappointed that she'd agreed with him, like he was looking forward to sparring with her a bit if she tried to placate him as expected.

He dropped his head and returned his one good eye to his book, leaving Michonne to watch him for a moment before she turned and swept the curtain open, allowing the full sun to stream in. He recoiled his head and brought his hand up to shield his left eye, grimacing as he did.

"Come on, get up," she said evenly as she approached the foot of his bed. "I've got a job for you."

"Dr. Cloyd said I'm not cleared to work yet," he protested.

"She also said you should start easing yourself into everyday activities," Michonne said with a rueful, but satisfied grin. "Shower and get dressed. I'll make something to eat while you do."

"Michonne," he groaned as he dropped his book against his outstretched thighs.

"Carl…" she said matching his tone. "Are you really gonna make me do this?" She wasn't used to having a difficult time with him, so this was as unpleasant for her as it was for him.

"I'll do it later," he offered.

"You'll do it now." She hated having to pull this card with him, but he'd left her her with no choice. "You heard your dad, I'm responsible for you while he's gone, and I don't want him coming back to his son still laying in bed. Seriously, you're gonna grow roots if you stay any longer."

He wasn't happy about it at all, rolling his one good eye at her teasing, but he set his book on the nightstand and scooted out of bed then wordlessly walked in the ensuite bathroom, slamming the door behind him. Michonne sighed and shook her head as she stared at the closed door, waiting to hear the shower start before she went downstairs to fix a very late breakfast for him and a mid-morning snack for herself and Judith who had been up for hours at this point.

Within thirty minutes, he was showered, fed, dressed in clean clothes, and shuffling painfully slowly down the middle of the street with his sister's tiny left hand in his and her right in Michonne's.

"She walks like she's drunk."

"And how would you know?" she deadpanned as she glanced at him. He seemed to find fault with everyone and everything today, even his toddling little sister.

"Because I've seen adults get drunk at parties…" he defended.

"Well, I haven't been spiking her bottle if that's what you're implying…"

Michonne looked down at Judith and couldn't help but smile at the sight. Her hands were firmly grasped in theirs as she swung her little feet in wide steps while everything in between wavered like a bowl of Jello. "You're kinda right, though." Michonne felt bad for beginning to laugh, but she couldn't unsee similarity now that he'd said it. "Poor Judes...See? This is why we have to help her out."

"How long does it take?"

"It varies. She's right around that age, so it could be a few days, a few weeks, a few months…"

"How old was Andre when he started walking?"

She paused for a moment, surprised that he cared enough to ask, although she couldn't be certain he wasn't just interested in trying to gauge how long he'd be saddled with the job of helping his little sister learn to walk. Still, she stifled a hopeful smile at his slight change of tune then sighed softly as she thought back to that time in her life.

"Well...it was a few weeks before his first birthday, that's when he really started getting the hang of it," she huffed out a quiet laugh as her smile began to break through. "We would spend hours, the whole afternoon, just sitting on the floor with him, letting him practice getting his feet under him, and nothing. Then one day I was...I don't even know what I was doing, making coffee, I think? And I look down and he's just standing there in front of me. I'd take a step back and he'd follow, so I called for Mike to come see it, but before he got there, boom, Andre was on his bottom. These things never go according to plan…"

He nodded quietly, probably getting more of an answer than he was looking for, as they continued their slow stroll around the community and eventually found themselves standing in front of a small clearing of land that bordered the first few steel panels of the new expansion. He took a minute to appreciate the new area now within the walls.

"You haven't seen this yet, have you?"

"No, but I've heard you guys talking about it." He he'd been out of the house only when absolutely necessary in the few weeks since his injury, mainly just walking across the street to the infirmary for his follow up visits then back home immediately afterwards.

"I'll show you around then."

"OK," he agreed as they stepped up onto the curb, lifting Judith by the arms to help her clear it.

It was just tilled land with two long sections framed out with two by four's, each containing small mounds and the occasional seedling sprouting up from seeds they'd planted last week. Michonne picked Judith up in her arms, knowing that the soft dirt would likely be too challenging to walk on, but also to free Carl up to explore if he so desired.

"So we've got greens, peas, cucumbers, and tomatoes, of course," she added pointing the bare wire trellis that she hoped would soon be covered in green and red. "Then carrots, radishes, beets, and some herbs in that row. I think your dad said we planted mint, basil, and dill."

Carl didn't answer, he just stalked around the garden beds, scuffing the toe of his shoe into the dirt occasionally, and kneeling down at one point, taking a handful of it in his palm then releasing slowly as he watched the steady stream of grains return to the ground.

"The soil is dry," he said aloud as he stood up and walked toward her.

She looked down at the ground and squinted her eyes as she examined it, unable to see what he did as it looked fine to her.

"Is it? I don't have a clue when it comes to this stuff."

"Yeah, cause you were never around to learn," he proffered causing Michonne to exhale a short laugh in return.

"Hey, someone had to feed your sugar addiction and comic habit," she teased, garnering a the quickest flash of a grin from him before he returned to his stone face.

"So what do I need to do?"

"Ask Maggie. Hershel's the one who taught my dad all of this stuff, and I only know what he taught me, so…"

"Yeah, but you're here and she's not."

"I thought my job was helping Judith," he claimed trying to avoid the responsibility.

He was right, she'd only intended for him to work with Judith to get him out of the house, but they happened upon something that could be even better for him. She hoped that putting the knowledge he'd acquired at the prison to use with this project would help get him back on his feet and slowly, but surely build his confidence.

"I guess you have two jobs now which still isn't so bad considering I have like seven and your dad has at least that many, if not more." She finished by raising her eyebrows, daring him to call it unfair.

"Seedlings need to be watered everyday until they've grown," he explained with a heavy sigh, "then you space it out to every couple of days."

"Good to know. What other pearls of wisdom do you have for me?" she asked with a smile.

"Hey Carl!"

He instinctively turned at the sound of his name, then turned back just as quickly at the sight of Enid tentatively approaching them. He tensed up and kept his eyes forward, dropping his chin to his chest as is if trying to hide in plain sight.

"Hey," he said in monotone.

"Hi Michonne. Hey Judith," she said as pleasantly as possible which was still rather dry.

"Hi," Michonne said with a smile as she looked from Enid to Carl.

"I haven't seen you around in a while, so I just wanted to say hi. It's good to see you out," she said as she came around to his side, forcing him to finally acknowledge her presence, even if it was only with a shrug.

Michonne looked back and forth between the two in their awkward silence before deciding to give him an out if he wanted. She'd given him a healthy dose of tough love today, but she appreciated that this was a lot to take in, and it was OK if he wasn't there yet.

"You know, I've got to get on this watering situation. You wanna help?"

"Is it OK if I don't?" he asked in return.

"Of course," Michonne allowed as she tried to keep a neutral expression since he'd probably be embarrassed by the full out smile she wanted to give him. "You mind taking your sister for me, though?"

"Sure," he said as he reached for her and rested her against his hip for the first time in a while. Part of her wanted to stay and enjoy this moment, but she thought it best not to ruin a good thing, and bid them goodbye before heading off.

xxxx

"It's really coming along."

Dev looked up, a bit startled by the voice breaking him out of his focused state, to see Michonne walking toward him.

"Hey…" he greeted as he placed his paint brush in the tray that sat next to him on the ground. He pushed himself up from his kneeling position then took a few steps towards her. "Yeah, I think it will be done with just a few more days of work."

"Well, it looks great…and it's all the more impressive that you've done it by yourself."

"I didn't think I was capable," he said modestly as he nervously began peeling the dried paint off of his hands, "but with everything that happened...everyone we lost, I knew I needed to try."

She smiled at his reasons as they held each other's gazes for a moment. It was the first time they'd spoken to each other one-on-one in a few weeks; they hadn't been intentionally avoiding each other, but after their last experience together, something had changed between them.

"What's more impressive is everything you've done around here," he said, breaking the silence as he gestured toward the center of town with his hand.

She looked in that direction, as well, and saw the undeniable progress like repaired walls, clean streets, and the burgeoning garden; but it wasn't enough.

"We have a long way to go still, but everyone's stepped up to take care of each other and this place."

"And you can feel that. The change in attitude, people coming together…" All things he told her she wouldn't be able to achieve the last time they spoke. He fell quiet and bowed his head for a moment before looking back at her. "I owe you an apology."

"You don't."

"Michonne, those things I said the pet shop...you didn't deserve that."

"I said some things, too, so we're even," she said quietly.

"I didn't leave you with much choice, though," he said, still contrite and needing to explain himself. "I've never felt more helpless in my life than I did that day, just watching my friends fall one by one. And after hearing what Rick said, I was convinced that that would be our reality. That at the end of the day, it would fall on me to protect them, and I knew I wasn't capable. So I got angry and I put it all on you…"

"You didn't know, but now you do," she said gently. She didn't feel owed an apology for that simple fact. He was only acting according to what he knew, and they exchanged words in the heat of the moment, but that's all they were at this point.

"I do."

As he looked at her standing in front of him, he thought back to the first time they met. This beautiful, intelligent, worldly woman came into his community out of nowhere, and it almost felt as if fate had brought her there for him. That after months of being alone, he met the person that would give new meaning to his life, and that hope grew each time he met her. But out there in the woods, he discovered that he only knew one side of her, a tiny little sliver of the complex woman she was, and while she could probably give him everything he needed and wanted, he was fooling himself if he thought he could do the same for her. What he experienced with her that day, though, gave him some of the purpose he was looking for in his life, and he hoped to repay that in some small way.

"You know it wouldn't be right if you didn't leave your mark here in some way," he said as he tilted his head toward the nearly completed mural behind him.

"And ruin this masterpiece? I can't do that to you," she said sweetly.

"Come on," he walked closer to the wall and motioned for her to follow. "Look. Right here, it's just a patch of green."

She looked at the spot he was pointing to, and it seemed as simple as he said it would be. Just some broad brush strokes of green to create grass that she was nearly certain she couldn't mess up, but still she resisted.

"I have things to do," she said apologetically.

"Five minutes. Just to say you did." He stood there with his hands out at his sides, smiling brightly at her as he tried his best to wear her down. Eventually it worked, and she sighed then shook her head in defeat.

"Fine…" She walked over to the wall with him, and kneeled down on the tarp then picked up a paint brush. "Right here?" she asked pointing to the bare bottom corner.

"Right there."

He picked up a brush, as well, and went to work painting alongside her. She watched him for a moment, studying his technique, before finally putting her brush to the wall. She started hesitantly at first then fell into the steady rhythm, working in tandem in a comfortable silence.

"If only growing crops was this easy…" she mumbled, thinking how now it would be if the vegetables in their garden grew as quickly as the grass she was creating here. She'd love nothing more that to have a steady food source for her community.

"Patience, my friend."

"What's your read on gardening supplies and farming equipment out there, by the way? Is there much left beyond what we already have?"

"Well, there's more of it left than canned goods at this point," he surmised, carrying on the conversation while both continued painting. "There's a Lowe's about 30 miles west of here that we'd hit for supplies as needed. We never took much from the gardening section, so I imagine it's still fairly well stocked unless someone else got to it."

"It's just hard to believe there's anything left after two years..."

"Speaking of, I know they don't know me well, but I would have been more than happy to go on that run with Rick and Daryl. Since there's not much left out there, and they don't know the area like I do, I think it may help."

"Don't take it personally," she said smiling to himself. "They're…" she hesitated for a moment as she tried to figure out a way to explain their dynamic, "they're just best left to their own devices every once in awhile."

"Well, the offer stands. I imagine it would carry more weight coming from you," he said pausing to glance over at her for a minute.

"I'll let them know. Thanks."

They fell back into their rhythm, and as she saw the bare metal space grow smaller and smaller, she was actually a little disappointed that she was going to be done just as she was starting to enjoy herself.

"How's Carl doing?"

Of course everyone within the walls knew about his injury, but outside of their core group, no one had felt comfortable asking about him, but that was fine with her because until today, she probably wouldn't have felt comfortable answering.

"He's OK. A little bit better everyday," she said smiling to herself.

"Good."

Open the gates!

They turned their heads at the call to see Abe motioning to the woman on gate duty from his watch point. Michonne watched as the gates opened to reveal the battered yellow jeep waiting to enter. It was a just quick overnight run, but no matter the reason for going beyond the walls, she would always feel a sense of relief when they returned.

Rick drove the jeep in, and parked a few houses down from the pantry which she found odd. She watched as he and Daryl exited the car then walked around to the back. She would go over greet them as soon as she finished up her section in a few minutes, but she continued to keep her eyes on them, anxious to see how much food they were able to scavenge. Daryl swung the back door open then dropped back into position with his crossbow as Rick reached in.

"What the hell?" she whispered under her breath. When Rick's upper body emerged from the trunk, he dragged out a bearded man with long hair whose hands were tied behind his back. She immediately dropped her paintbrush in the tray and stood. "Sorry," she called back as she broke into a run toward the jeep.

Rick looked up to see her running toward them, and nodded her way.

"Michonne! You have the key to the cell?" he yelled.

She produced them from her pocket and held them up in response while she took her final strides toward them. Once she reached the men, the prisoner, who was calmly looking around at his new surroundings, glanced over at her and smiled.

"Hello there."

She didn't answer, and instead looked questioningly between Daryl and Rick hoping to get some answers about their extremely relaxed and congenial prisoner as soon as possible. Rick slowly drew his chin down since his hands were occupied, relaying with his eyes that he'd explain this later. She nodded then walked ahead to lead them to the basement apartment that served as their holding cell.

xxxx

Rick walked out of the laundry room and straight into the kitchen as he finished pulling a clean, grey t-shirt over his head. He opened the pantry door, and stood there eyeing the items from their recent haul as he absently ran his hand through his hair, still slightly damp from his recent shower. He found what he was looking for, and grabbed a spoon from the drawer just to his right before heading into the living room to join Michonne on the couch. She was also freshly showered and dressed for bed in a pair of men's flannel pajama bottoms, a white tank, and a grey zip up hoodie. She had her feet resting on the coffee table while she wrote in a notebook that was resting on her lap.

"What are you doing?" he asked as he eyed the notebook.

She finished writing the sentence she was working on then cast her eyes to the side, seeing that he held a jar of peanut butter in one hand and a spoon in the other. She then looked up to meet his eyes and shook her head before returning her attention to her work.

"Don't," he warned.

"I didn't," she said innocently, her eyes still trained on her notebook.

"I didn't get lunch or dinner today," he explained as he unscrewed the lid and set it on the cushion next to him, then took a spoonful from the jar and inserted it into his mouth. He watched her scribble in her notebook, paying him no mind at all.

"What are you doing?" he asked again, this time in a whisper as he leaned in closer, trying to get a look at what she was writing. She looked up at him, and started to laugh at his strange mood. They joked with each other often enough, but this felt different. She placed her pen down on the notebook then leaned forward to grab her mug of cooling tea from the coffee table before answering.

"I'm making a list of assignments for people to complete while we're away...I'm going, I need to see this place for myself," she added, claiming her spot in the group that would be headed to this alleged Hilltop community the next morning.

"I know," he assured her with a nod. "You should be there. Carol and Morgan are more than capable of holding this place down and looking after Carl and Judes. She's done it time and time again," he said likely more for his benefit than hers.

"She definitely has…" Michonne agreed. Despite their recent differences, there was no questioning Carol's motives after putting herself on the line to protect their family and the community from the Wolves. "Did you get anything else out of him?" she asked about their detainee.

"Same story," he said shaking his head. "Claims he came on his own and that his group won't attack. Says they're just interested in trade...how do we know he's not with this Negan guy, though?" The timing of this guy's arrival on the heels of Daryl, Abraham, and Sasha's encounter with this other group seemed suspect to him. "He's too calm, Michonne. I've seen it a million times before-guilty men sleep in their cells at night while the innocent ones climb the walls."

"I checked in with Sasha up in the tower before I came home. She hasn't seen any abnormal activity out there," Michonne offered.

"They could be avoiding her line of sight."

"They could be," she allowed. "Or he's telling the truth...and if he is, I'd hate for us to do anything that could ruin a potentially good thing."

"You mean me," he clarified with a small smirk.

"You do have a man named Jesus tied up next door…" she pointed out lightly.

"His name is Paul and I've got a few bruised ribs from our first encounter. Jesus wouldn't do that," he argued.

"I'm just sayin'..." She gave him a small shrug and smiled before returning her mug to the coffee table and picking up her pen again.

"I never would have figured you as the list making type," he mused aloud causing her to drop her pen and look up at him again. She was getting so much work done until he had decided to join her.

"List making type? You mean being organized and having my shit together?" she asked with an arched eyebrow. He grinned back at her, figuring any answer would dig him deeper into a hole with her.

"Can I see? Maybe I'll have something to add."

She couldn't argue with that request, so she passed it over to him, and watched as he brought it in front of him, squinting before he held it out a little further to make out her writing better. He moved his lips slightly as he read, nodding, she assumed, at each bullet point as he made his way down the list.

"Eugene ammo?" he read aloud as he lowered the notebook and looked over at her.

"He thinks he knows of a way to start producing it," she said trying to contain her excitement.

"Really?"

"Yeah," she answered, seeing his incredulity. "As unlikely as it seems, he's an incredible asset. The amount of random knowledge in that brain of his?" She shook her head in awe. "He's my new best friend," she admitted causing Rick chuckle at the image of the odd duo.

"You got a lot of those these days," he teased. "I remember a time that wouldn't have been the case…"

"People change, right?"

"Yep," he said with a sigh as he handed his notebook back to her. "At least I can say I knew you when…"

She tilted her head nodded, feigning sympathy, before playfully hitting his knee with her notebook.

"I'm right here, fool," she said as she got up from the couch, letting out a loud yawn before picking up her empty mug. She yawned again, and decided to listen to the message her body was sending her. "I'm done," she announced as she blinked her tired, watery eyes.

"Here," he said holding out his hand to take her mug so that she didn't have to make a trip to the kitchen. She grinned at the gesture, and handed it to him.

"Thanks. Sleep well. I'll see you in the morning."

"You too. G'night," he said returning her sleepy grin.