I do not own The Walking Dead or any of its characters.

"What the hell happened to you?"

"I got into a fight, that's all. Just a bar fight. I'm fine."

"You are not fine, you're bleeding. You're—are you running a fever? Damnit, I thought we were through with this. I thought you were through with this."

"I told you it was just a damned bar fight. Why don't you shut up and do something useful? Get me a damned rag."

"You promised."

"Will you just get me the damned rag?"

"Fuck."

"That's right. Now how about you run a bath and then you can take care of me. Real good care of me."

"Mommy?"

"What are you doing up? Everything's alright. Go back to bed."

"What happened to Daddy?"

"He's fine sweetheart. Go back to bed before your sister wakes up, ok?"

"Are you going to take care of Daddy?"

"Yes baby, now please go back to bed. I love you."

"I love you too Mommy."

"Yeah, 'Mommy.' You're gonna take real good care of 'Daddy' now, aren't you?"

Michonne awakens with a start. She stares at the canvas of the top of the tent, wondering where she is. She doesn't even realize at first that she is breathing hard. She doesn't get disconcerted like this often, but the events of the past twenty-four hours have been more than enough to throw even someone as collected as her off of their game.

The end of the world has come. That sounds melodramatic, but she realizes that it describes the situation best. The end of the world has come and she has lived through it. She is free from the hell that was her old life, but she has been reborn into a brand new hell in its place. Everything she knew from before is gone.

But for the first time in months she is not alone.

Before she can allow that thought to carry her any further she sits up and pushes she sleeping bag off of her. She doesn't know how she managed to get into it during the night when she knows she began the night on top of it. She isn't usually one to move around a lot in her sleep, but she also had a restless night, plagued by strange memories that came to her half in a haze so she didn't know exactly what she was seeing. She finds herself a little glad for that haze.

She leaves the tent as quietly as possible so as not to wake Jacqui. The woman was kind enough to share her tent with a complete stranger. The least Michonne can do is let the her continue to sleep.

She steps outside the tent and stretches, wincing a little when she hears her joints pop. Sleeping on the ground for the past few months has not done her body any good, but she figures that she is lucky that stiff joints are all her body has suffered so far.

She needs to find Shane. Her mind has made the decision almost before she realizes it and she scans the campground for him. Most of the survivors are awake and beginning the day's chores, but Shane is nowhere to be seen. She is distracted for a moment by how strange it is that they still have chores. As soon as this apocalypse hit the only thing that was on her mind was staying alive. But here is this group of people making breakfast and washing and drying clothes. It's almost as though they are living a normal life, safely tucked away from the chaos of the rest of the world.

The problem with a situation this perfect is that it never lasts.

"Hey!" Her thoughts are cut short when someone calls out from behind her. She turns around to see the little boy's mother waving her over from where they had all eaten the night before. She remembers the group stomping the fire out before they went to bed, but apparently they have coaxed a small fire back out of the ashes. The woman has a metal poker in her hand and she uses it to prod the blackened pile. A few sparks fly up as the ashes shift. Michonne wonders for a fleeting moment who thought to grab a poker on their way out of their house. But she can't deny that it was a good idea.

She makes her way over to the little campfire, receiving both smiles and distrustful looks from people as she passes. Andrea gives her a particularly bright smile and when the younger girl sees who has caught her sister's attention she gives Michonne a small wave. She returns the gesture with a nod of her head.

She sits down in the same spot she occupied the night before. Almost immediately the dark haired woman holds out a bowl for her to take. It's warm and appears to be oatmeal.

"I wanted to thank you," she says, dropping her gaze from Michonne's awkwardly. "For being so nice to Carl last night. I appreciate it. You don't even know him, but you were very kind." She laughs. "That damned sword is the only thing he has talked about all night and all morning."

"It was nothing," Michonne mumbles, stirring the contents of the bowl to let it cool some.

The woman eyes her for a moment as though she is expecting her to say something more. But she is quickly learning that this is a woman of few words, so she smiles again. It's a little strained this time. "I'm Lori. I—I'm sorry you've had a less than warm welcome. People are just worried, you know?" She sighs, frustrated that she can't find the words to defend her group a little better. "My husband likes you though. And Carl, I think you're his new favorite person." Her smile looks a little more natural as she talks about her family.

"I'm Michonne," she says quietly. She takes a bite of the oatmeal. It's actually pretty good for a meal made over a campfire. "Thank you." She appreciates it more than she lets on. She had forgotten what it was like to be with a group of people who actually care, but she pushes the thought away. She can't get interested in this group. She needs to leave. She doesn't want to be with other people and watch them get taken from her too. She will do much better on her own.

Lori opens her mouth to say something else but is distracted when the sound of a car cuts through the air. Everyone in the camp turns around to see Shane drive up with a jeep full of water from the quarry. He reminds everyone to boil it and gets down from the vehicle.

Michonne starts to get up. She wants to make an appeal. She wants to tell him that if he will give her her sword back that she will be on her way and none of them ever have to see her again. There is a strange tug at her heart as she thinks about this choice, but she ignores it. If she is going to do this it needs to be now.

But she stops when she sees Lori's husband cut Shane off before she can even fully stand up. She slowly sits back down. They are close enough that she can hear their conversation and she tries to look inconspicuous so she can listen to what they are saying.

"I'm going back for Merle," she hears him say. "I can't just leave him there on the roof like that. And I dropped my bag of guns in the city. I need to get that bag."

She hears Shane let out an amused snort. "So you're telling me that you're going to risk your life and the lives of everyone in this group so you can go back for a racist redneck and a bag of guns." She can tell from his tone that they are picking up the conversation from where they must have left it the night before after most of the group had gone to bed.

"I told you. It's more than just a bag of guns. I owe it to Morgan and his son. I told him that I would try to call through to him at dawn. He can't ride into the city like I did Shane. Not with his son in tow and no one out there to rescue them like Glenn rescued me. And I can't have Merle's blood on my hands either. Those are my cuffs keeping him on that roof," the man is getting agitated now, she can hear it. She takes a bite of her oatmeal. She chews slowly, trying to look like she isn't listening in. In reality she can't even taste the food anymore because of how hard she is listening to the two men.

"And T-Dog is the one who dropped the keys!" Shane bursts out, no longer careful to keep his voice quiet. "This isn't all on you man. You can't always play the hero." His voice lowers again, aware of the other people in the camp. "What about Lori and Carl? Are you just gonna turn your back on them now? Are you just gonna leave?"

"I'm not turning my back on anyone," the man replies angrily. "There are three people out there right now who could die because of me. I don't know how you could live with that on your conscience, but I can't."

There is a moment of silence before she hears Shane's voice again. "Fine. Fine, I—"

But she never gets to hear his opinion on the matter because at that moment there is a scream from the woods. Everyone in the camp drops what they are doing and she sees panic on Lori's face.

Michonne feels her heart stop. Those screams. Children's screams. They sound so familiar.

Before she knows what she is doing she has picked up the metal poker that Lori was using to stoke the fire. She takes off after the rest of the group that has already passed her in their hurry to find the children. She overtakes them easily in her panic. In her mind the screams are coming from her own babies and in her fury she sees red.

The boy, Carl, and the little girl from the abused family come running toward their parents. She doesn't even stop to check if they are alright before rushing ahead and catching up with the men who have stopped to stare at the sight before them.

There is a walker eating a felled deer in the clearing. All the men are staring at it as though they have never seen one before and she scoffs at them inwardly. Before anyone can move to stop her she darts forward and plunges the poker through the walker's head. It slumps to the ground and she stabs it several more times for good measure. When she stops she is breathing hard and her knuckles pale from holding the poker so tightly.

Someone behind her clears their throat and she suddenly remembers where she is. The red fades from her vision as she turns around to face the group. The men are all staring at her as though she beamed down from a spaceship. Being the center of attention makes her feel strange, but she steps forward anyway.

She stops right in front of Lori's husband and stares him in the eye. It's the most eye contact she has held with anyone in the group so far and she doesn't let it waver.

"Take me wth you to the city," she says to him, ignoring Shane's outraged face in her peripheral vision. "I'll help get you back alive." She turns her gaze to Shane. His face is a mixture of anger and a little fear. She got splattered pretty thoroughly in killing the walker and can only assume that she is a pretty ghastly sight. She honestly couldn't care less. "If I get him back alive then you can trust me enough to let me leave."

Shane says nothing but his expression tells her that he does not like the idea. She blocks him out again and looks at the rest of the group. The first eyes she locks on are Andrea's.

"Are the children alright?" she asks. While she is here she wants to know that they are safe. She couldn't keep her own babies safe, but it's a comfort to know that there is still some innocence left in this world.

"Fine," Andrea replies. Her gaze is intent enough to make Michonne a little uncomfortable. There is something there that she can't quite place. It almost looks like intrigue. She sees the woman's eyes flicker to the blood on her body and back up to her face. Michonne refuses to drop her eyes despite her discomfort. She is tired of being ignored in this camp. Considered enough of a threat that they can't let her go, but not enough to be respected. "They're both fine." Her sister looks a little sick at the sight of the dead walker and Andrea puts a hand on her shoulder. She holds the eye contact for one more drawn out moment before breaking it to guide her sister away from the scene.

Before Michonne can even process her relief that the children are alright there is more rustling in the bushes. She whirls around, holding the poker as though it were her sword. The whole group scans the treeline, waiting for another walker to emerge.

Instead, the man who brought her to the camp comes stomping out. For half a second she considers hitting him with the poker anyway, but if she is going to gain enough trust to get away from this place then she can't let her anger get the best of her.

He begins ranting and raving about the loss of the deer and she tunes out. The trip to Atlanta will be very dangerous, she knows that. She tells herself that the only reason she volunteered to go was to gain the trust of the group and get away from here once and for all.

But in reality, she can't stand the idea of three more people, one of them a child, dying at the hands of the undead.

Something I always noticed in this episode of season one was the way Andrea looked after the men killed the walker that had scared the children. I feel like that was our first glimpse of the fighter in her. She didn't look disgusted like the other people in the group. She looked intrigued by the sight. Anyway, just a little observation of mine. =]
And I hope the dialogue at the very beginning comes across the way I want it to.
I swear things will pick up soon! Thanks for reading and sticking with me. You guys' feedback makes my day, no joke. =]