"Rock, paper, scissors – shoot!" Carl and Michonne chanted together, flinging their hands out in sync. Carl wrapped Michonne's fist with his hand; or, at least as much as his child hand could cover.
"Paper beats rock! I win!" he yelled, unable to restrain the excitement in his voice. "Fork it over!" Carl thrust out his palm.
Michonne smiled and removed the backpack from her shoulders. She reached in and pulled out a chocolate bar with "Big Kat" displayed in yellow capital letters across the crinkled wrapper.
She placed the bar in his hand, her fingers still wrapped around the precious loot. "It's my last one," she whined.
"Losers, weepers," Carl said with a smug grin.
Michonne released the bar, pouting her full lips. Carl immediately peeled away the wrapper and brought the crumbling bar to his lips. He paused, examining her expression. Sighing, he proceeded to break the bar in half.
"Here," he said, handing her half of the chocolate. "This is payment for katana lessons - whenever I want."
"Deal," Michonne said, beaming. Her heart skipped a beat. Andre had done something similar when Michonne had begged for his last sweet potato fry. Her eyes stung with unshed tears at the memory.
She crammed the slightly stale candy into her mouth, hoping to dampen the oncoming misery. Chocolate never failed to satiate.
"We should catch up to the others," Michonne said, licking her lips. Rick and the group were more than a few yards away.
Rick had decided to take a small group to raid a nearby food bank Father Gabriel mentioned. Fortunately, the food shelter had remained untouched, allowing them to salvage three shopping carts of food.
A moan to Michonne's right grabbed her attention. Tumbling out of the alley, a walker in a tattered business suit reached for Carl, baring his bloody teeth.
Carl yelped, reaching for his gun. Michonne moved swiftly, slicing through the walker's head like a watermelon. The corpse plopped to the ground, bits of brain and blood oozing from the gaping wound in its skull.
"Whoa! That was close," Carl said with a mix of fear and excitement. "And so freaking cool! I definitely need to learn how to use that thing. Wait till I tell the others!" Carl hurried in the direction of the group, leaving Michonne to process all that had happened.
Michonne turned her back on his retreating form, her breathing shallow. The mounting tightness in her chest signaled an oncoming panic attack. She'd had one only once before – the day Andre died. Michonne's vision blurred and she felt lightheaded.
A strong hand gripped her shoulder from behind. "It's okay. Just breathe," Rick said in a hushed tone, lightly massaging her shoulder. "It'll pass."
Michonne, more embarrassed than anxious, took a few deep breaths, Rick's soothing words and touch surprisingly calming her nerves. Soon her breathing and vision returned to normal.
"Thank you," Michonne said. She composed herself before turning to face him.
His hand dropped from her shoulder. "Are you okay?" he asked with concern in his probing eyes.
"Yes," Michonne said, struggling not to avoid the eyes that stirred her emotions.
This was the first time they had been alone together since their awkward bedroom discussion. It had been clear that Rick was hesitant to pursue his feelings for her. Since that night, she made sure any conversations between the two of them centered around plans on the upcoming trip to Washington and involved at least one other person. Michonne feared if they were alone together again, he would feel need to clear the air and reject her once and for all.
"I recognize a panic attack when I see one," Rick said. "Lori used to get them every once in while. Scared the shit out of her the first time."
"This is so embarrassing. It's happened only one other time..." When your son died, she should have confessed.
Rick smiled, feathery wrinkles forming at the corners of his eyes. "Well, I'm just glad I could help. Had to pay you back somehow, for saving Carl's life."
"If it weren't for me, he would have never been in danger in the first place."
"I doubt that. I'm just grateful you were the one by his side when it happened. I can always count on you to keep him alive. Judith too. You're on the short list of people I trust with their lives."
Michonne's cheeks flamed at the longing blazing in the blue fire of his eyes. A stifled gasp escaped her lips and her heart pounded. Only Rick could give her a look that made her lose all sense of right and wrong; and she was suddenly not sure if she wanted to feel that way again.
"We should really…" Michonne said, before stepping around him and walking in the direction of Carl and the group. They stood waiting for her and Rick to rejoin them. Michonne refused to look back, though she felt Rick's eyes on her. They both would need to sort out their feelings before pursuing any semblance of a romantic relationship, before the uncertainty drove her mad.
Daryl returned with Carol just as dinner was underway. Michonne placed her plate of food on the pew, before joining the others to greet them. It had been two days since Daryl had gone in search of Beth and Carol, and she had been considering going after him if he hadn't returned that night.
"Welcome back," Michonne said to Daryl.
"Thanks," Daryl mumbled, barely making eye contact with her. He had been distant ever since their arrival at the church and Michonne missed his friendship dearly. During their runs together, they had become quite close and she considered him a close friend and confidant. When Andrea had abandoned her, she needed someone to talk to and Daryl was always there to listen or make her laugh.
She wrapped her arms around Carol, hugging the frail woman tightly. She appeared to have lost weight since the last time Michonne had seen her. "I'm glad you're okay."
"Glad to be back," Carol responded softly. Michonne released her as Maggie and Glenn joined them.
"Where's Beth?" Maggie asked, her voice breaking.
"I'm so sorry, Maggie," Carol said, hugging Maggie. She continued in a hush, "She's dead. They killed her. I'm so sorry."
"No!" Maggie yelled. She pulled away from Carol's embrace. "No, she can't be dead!" Maggie's sobs wrenched at Michonne's heart. Losing family was the hardest thing about this new world, and she was no stranger to the pain the loss evoked.
Glenn pulled Maggie into his arms and she sobbed against his chest, her tears soaking the front of his shirt. "Shhh," he said softly, rubbing her back in small circles. He led her over to the pews, away from the group.
"What happened?" Rick asked Daryl.
"Some cop and her lackeys were holding Beth and Carol hostage at a hospital a few miles north of here," Daryl said. "I captured one of their guys and traded him for Beth and Carol. But Beth…" He paused, clearing his throat. "She stabbed the cop in the chest with a pair of scissors and the pig shot her in the head. Beth died instantly." He lowered his head.
Rick reached out to comfort him, but Daryl maneuvered away from his touch. Rick lowered his hand to his side. "There was nothing you could do, man," he said in a steady voice.
"Tell that to Maggie," Daryl said. He paused. "We owe it to Beth to make the best out of this horrible situation. The reality is that the hospital is now up for grabs. The people left there would be more than willin' to let us take over, seeing as they were as much hostages as Beth and Carol. And the stock of medical supplies and equipment wouldn't hurt."
Michonne would have agreed with Daryl, if her gut hadn't already decided on Washington. She watched Rick as he mulled over Daryl's words. Maggie spoke.
"If all that medical equipment was worth anything, Beth would be here with us right now," Maggie said, raising her shaky voice. She moved toward Daryl. "You were supposed to bring her back. You promised me!"
"Maggie, calm down," Glenn said, grabbing her arm. "Daryl did everything he could for Beth."
Maggie flung Glenn's hand away and continued toward Daryl. "Obviously he didn't, because he's here and Beth is dead."
Daryl recoiled at Maggie's words, his face etched in pain. "Maggie, I'm-"
The smack of Maggie's palm against his cheek echoed throughout the church. Michonne felt as though she had been slapped, shocked at seeing someone as stoic as Daryl now on the verge of tears.
"Enough," Rick said finally. "Glenn, take her into Father Gabriel's study. She is not in the right state of mind for this conversation."
Glenn nodded and wrapped his arm around Maggie's shoulders, guiding her toward the study as she wailed in sorrow. Rick continued as soon as Glenn shut the door behind him.
"We're all going to miss Beth. She was a beautiful soul and courageous fighter. She cared for Judith like she was her own and I will always be grateful to her for that. But now we have a tough decision to make." Rick glanced at Daryl, who sat in a pew a few feet away from the group, his head lowered. "I trust Daryl with my life, and if he says we should consider the hospital, then I think we should do just that."
Michonne glanced around the group, noticing several people nodding their heads in agreement. Abraham surprisingly remained silent as Rick continued.
"So we vote - the hospital or Washington. And everyone votes, no one gets to opt out of this one," Rick said, just as Glenn gently shut the door of the study and headed for the group.
Michonne partly wished that Rick would just play the veto card and make the decision on his own. For her, the choice was between more than just the hospital and Washington – it was between security and the hope of something more.
"Maggie's resting," Glenn said, rejoining them. "So I'll vote for the both of us."
"Fine," Rick said. "All those for the hospital, raise your hands."
Michonne held her breath as Daryl, Tyrese, Sasha, Bob, Carol and Father Gabriel all raised their hands.
"Six for the hospital. Now for Washington, raise your hands." Michonne stood frozen as Rick, Abraham, Rosita, Eugene, and Glenn raised their hands. Carl sat in the front pew with Judith on his lap, happy to let his dad make the choice for his family.
"With Glenn voting for Maggie, that means we have a tie." Rick turned his steely gaze on her. "Michonne, you haven't voted either way. You need to decide – the hospital or Washington." She detected a hint of desperation in his voice.
Michonne looked from Rick to Daryl, both masters of the poker face. Whichever way she voted, one of them would have their pride wounded. She had no choice but to go with her gut and ignore the predicaments of her heart.
"Washington," Michonne said. She looked to Daryl, but his face remained unreadable.
"It's settled then," Rick said. "We head for Washington tomorrow. Everyone eat well and rest up, we have a long trek ahead of us."
Quiet conversations ensued as dinner continued. Daryl slipped out of the back door without a word to anyone. Michonne silently vowed to fix this sudden break between the two of them; she could not take the chance of using yet another good friend.
Rick cradled a sleeping Judith in his arms, smiling and chatting with Carl. If anything else, Rick had his family. Michonne remained unsure of whether or not he wanted her to be a part of it. She and Daryl, however, had bonded and become important to each other in the time she'd spent with him. He had saved her life countless times and had been there to comfort her when things were at their worst – and this was the time to return the favor.
Michonne juggled a flimsy paper plate of food in one hand as she opened the door with the other. As expected, she found Daryl sitting on the back porch of the church, smoking a cigarette and basking in the bright glow of the moon.
"I don't want any company," Daryl said, staring into the dappled darkness of the surrounding woods.
Michonne nudged the door close with her elbow. "You should eat something." She joined him on the top step and placed the plate of baked beans, corn and pears on his lap. She held a plastic fork out to him. "Eat."
Daryl sighed loudly, not bothering to hide his annoyance. "If I eat, will you promise to leave me in peace?"
"You empty that plate, and we'll see." Daryl remained still, so she added, "I can wait all night."
Daryl jabbed his cigarette out on the bottom of his boot and tucked the stub behind his ear. He snatched the fork from Michonne and dug in, rapidly shoveling beans into his mouth.
"Slow down, you'll upset your stomach. No one needs you stinking up the church with your lip-curdling flatulence."
Daryl only huffed in response. He finished the beans and began working on the corn.
"Maggie wanted me to tell you she's sorry, for hitting you. She knows you did everything you could for Beth."
Daryl finished the corn and speared the two juicy, pear slices onto his fork. He crammed them into his mouth, smacking his lips as he chewed. He tossed the empty plate and plastic fork to his side. "All done. You can go now," he said, turning to glare at her.
"You're gonna have to do better than that to scare me away."
"Fine," he said, moving to stand, the steps creaking beneath his boots.
Michonne placed her hand on his sinewy forearm, halting his movement. "Please, Daryl. Don't run away from me. I just want to help you."
"Help me?" Daryl asked, roughly plopping down beside her. "How, Michonne? Can you magically flick your wrist and turn back time?"
Michonne pulled Daryl into her arms and, to her surprise, he did not pull away. "It's not your fault she died."
Daryl shifted into her embrace. "Why did it have to be Beth? She never hurt nobody."
"You should know by now that death has no conscience. He takes the innocent and the guilty alike."
Daryl slowly wrapped his arms around Michonne, pulling her closer. "It should have been me. I've got no brother – no family – to fret over me when I'm gone. Maggie shouldn't have to go through this again."
Michonne pulled away from his embrace, looking into his glistening eyes. "If you don't realize how much you mean to everyone here, then you're a fool. Carol, Judith, Rick – what would they do without you?" She paused. "What would I do?"
Daryl's eyes darted to Michonne's lips. He leaned in to kiss her, but she stopped him, placing a hand on his chest.
"We can't," she whispered.
"Why? Because of Rick?" Daryl asked angrily, putting some distance between the two of them. "Does he own the key to your heart because you knew each other before this all started?"
Michonne hesitated, not sure how to respond. "We have…unfinished business."
"And if you had met me before him? Would we have a chance then?"
"I learned a long time ago not to wallow in the 'What ifs' of life. Let's just focus on the present. I am here for you…but only as a friend. That's all I can be for you right now."
Daryl turned to stare into the dark woods. "Ouch. I've officially been banished to the friend zone." He smiled. "You're too much of a city girl for me anyway."
Michonne laughed. "Watch it, country boy. You forget this city girl rides a horse better than any of you." She paused before continuing. "Promise you won't let me come between the two of you. I would hate myself for that."
"Rick and I are brothers, nothing's going to change that, even if we fight every now and then. Plus, I'm not a sore loser."
"I don't know about that," Michonne joked.
Daryl reached out and grabbed her hand. Michonne smiled and wrapped her hand tightly around his in return. They sat in silence, staring into the quiet woods, oblivious to the danger lurking in the darkness.
The first day on the road to Washington was full of optimism and cheer. Spirits were generally high amongst the group. Abraham told hilarious stories about first meeting Eugene – how he had wanted to put the guy out of his misery and chop off his mullet – causing even Maggie to crack a smile. Carl pondered what kind of food they would have in Washington, everything from cotton candy to pizza. Michonne enjoyed the break from the misery and despair, giving her the room to hope again.
Just as the afternoon sun began its descent, Rick spotted a group of abandoned cars in the distance. He decided the group would camp there for the night and head out again at sunrise. The cars loomed about 100 feet ahead of them and Michonne looked forward to resting her sore feet.
"Tyrese!" Sasha called from the tail-end of the group. Michonne turned around at the sound of desperation in her voice. "Tyrese!"
Rick walked over to Michonne. "What's going on?" he asked.
"I don't know," Michonne said. She glanced around the surrounding area, not catching sight of Tyrese anywhere.
Rick and Michonne glanced at each other before walking over to join Sasha, who rubbed her palm across her forehead in exasperation.
"What happened? Why is Tyrese missing?" Rick asked.
"He went to relieve himself and told me not to wait for him," Sasha rattled on. "His stomach was upset, so I wanted to give him some privacy – he's been gone for more than fifteen minutes now."
"We'll find him," Rick said calmly. "I'm sure he's close by."
"Don't worry," Michonne said, though a lump formed in the pit of her stomach, something about this whole situation seeming very wrong.
Rick turned back to address the group. "Everyone!" He waited until he had their attention. "Head to the cars as planned. Michonne and Daryl, I need you with us, to search for Tyrese."
Daryl nodded with his crossbow in hand.
"You sure we don't need more people?" Michonne asked Rick, fear rearing its ugly head.
"No. I'm guessing Tyrese was spotted by a group of walkers and didn't want to lead them back to the group. Once we catch up to him, the four of us should be able to handle any trouble." Rick's confidence helped to calm her – somewhat.
"Be careful, dad!" Carl shouted, as the others continued toward the cars.
"Take care of your sister!" Rick responded.
Sasha had already left her spot on the road, headed for the woods. Michonne, Daryl and Rick soon caught up to her, each of them surveying the landscape for any signs of Tyrese.
A few minutes passed before Daryl caught his scent. "Look, here." He knelt down near a trampled area of wild grass. "That's blood."
Sasha whimpered. Rick knelt down next to Daryl. "It is. And that looks like more than one set of tracks," Rick said, pointing a few feet away, deeper into the woods. Michonne shuddered.
"Most likely," Daryl said. "We got no choice but to follow it, but keep your eyes open. I got a bad feeling 'bout this."
We all do, Michonne thought, her pulse quickening.
"Tyrese," Sasha said barely above a whisper. Michonne watched her closely, ready to stop her from doing something that might get the four of them killed.
"Daryl, fall back and follow us under cover. Not knowing what we're walking into, we need to any advantage we can get," Rick said.
"Be careful," Daryl said, looking directly at Michonne.
Michonne smiled and unsheathed her katana. "Just watch my back, country boy." Daryl chuckled.
"Let's go," Rick said brusquely, not missing the exchange between the two of them.
Daryl disappeared into the darkness of the woods, while Rick, Michonne and Sasha followed Tyrese's trail. Nightfall was quickly approaching and Michonne hoped against hope that Tyrese had just gotten lost and was not in dire harm.
Rick stopped, twisting his head to listen to something Michonne had yet to hear. "Is that…a harmonica?"
Michonne stilled and listened. The melody of a slow, lazy harmonica tune drifted toward them. The music disturbed her much more than Tyrese's screams would have.
"This won't go the way you want it to." Michonne could just make out Tyrese's voice above the music.
"Tyrese!" Sasha darted in Tyrese's direction before either Michonne or Rick could stop here.
"Shit!" Rick cursed, running after her. Michonne followed close behind.
Sasha came to the small clearing first, stopping dead in her tracks. Rick and Michonne stopped alongside her; Rick with his Colt pointed ahead of them.
"No," Michonne said on impulse. Tyrese knelt on his knees facing them, hands tied behind his back, a gaping wound on the side of his head. The Governor stood beside him, holding a harmonica in one hand and a semi-automatic pistol in the other, pressed against the back of Tyrese's head.
"Welcome, my love," the Governor said, his face twisted in a smile. "I see you brought your boyfriend with you. Rick."
"Please, don't," Sasha cried out. "I'll give you whatever you want, just let Tyrese go."
The Governor's deep laugh chilled Michonne's blood. "I don't want anything from you, sweetheart. Michonne is the only thing I want. And you're going to help me get her."
"You're outnumbered here. Either you give us Tyrese or you die. There is no other option." Rick kept his pistol aimed at the Governor's chest.
"You're not that quick of a shot, Rick. If I die, Tyrese dies. The only way he lives is if Sasha does what I tell her."
Michonne stepped forward. "What do you want?"
"I've only ever wanted your heart, Michonne. And I want to eliminate the one thing standing in the way of me having it." The Governor turned to Sasha. "Kill Rick."
Michonne whipped her head to Sasha. Tears streamed down the frantic woman's face. She turned back to address the Governor. "No one has to die. Just take me with you. I promise I'll come peacefully this time," Michonne pleaded.
"There is no room for negotiation. Sasha, are you really going to let your brother die in order to save Michonne's boyfriend?"
"I can't…" Sasha said, aiming her gun at Rick.
"Sasha don't!" Michonne was too far away to stop her.
"Shoot him, Rick!" Tyrese yelled.
The Governor pressed his pistol harder into the back of Tyrese's skull, causing him to bow his head forward. "You're really not in the position to piss me of. Clock's ticking, Sasha."
"The only person dying here today is you," Rick said.
An arrow careened from out of the darkness, striking the Governor in the hand. He roared in pain, dropping to his knees, his gun falling to the ground.
"Tyrese!" Sasha cried out, running to her brother.
"I'm okay," he said, smiling. Sasha worked on untying the bind around his wrists.
Rick walked over to the Governor, kicking his gun away. "It's over," Rick said. "You lose."
The Governor looked at Michonne, his sadness surprising her. "I should have chopped your head off when I had the chance."
Rick raised his gun and pulled the trigger, putting a bullet between the Governor's eyes. Michonne jumped at the gunshot, blinking rapidly. She watched as the Governor's limp body crumpled to the ground. Her nightmare was finally over.
Sasha helped Tyrese to his feet, his hands free. "About time," she said. "And just so we're clear, I wasn't going to shoot you, Rick. I was just buying us time."
"I know," Rick said. "I'm just glad your brother is safe."
Daryl emerged from the woods. "Sorry that took so long. It was tough to get a clean shot in this light."
"You were right on time, man," Rick said, patting him on the back. "Thank you."
Michonne walked over to the Governor, doing her best to stay upright on her trembling legs. Somehow in her mind, he was not really dead, and would wake any second. She hovered over his corpse, his dead blue-green eyes staring back at her. "This is a better death than you deserve." She spat in anger and turned away, closing this chapter of her life forever.
Four days traveling on foot was enough to vanquish group morale. Food and water stocks were plentiful, but spirits were low. Their initial plan had been to find a running vehicle a day or two into the trip, but the only vehicles they came across were either empty of gas or wrecked beyond working condition, forcing them to remain on foot. The stifling southern heat and humidity only added to their exhaustion.
"Dad, how much farther is Washington? It feels like we've been walking forever," Carl whined.
Michonne smiled as she continued alongside Rick and Carl. She had spent most of her time with the two guys, offering to carry Judith whenever either of them needed a break.
"We've got a ways to go, son," Rick said. Sweat stains soaked through his t-shirt and his unkempt beard made him look more like a homeless guy than a former sheriff's deputy. Michonne counted the days until he could finally shave it off.
"I'm bored," Carl said. "I'm gonna get Abraham to show me his knife collection." And with that, Carl fell behind to walk alongside Abraham and Rosita, leaving Rick and Michonne alone.
"He's got quite the obsession with blades," Michonne said, a hint of laughter in her voice.
"More like he's got an obsession with you and your katana," Rick said. "He just wants to get to Washington so he can begin lessons with you."
"It's not like I'm a pro or anything, but I can teach him a few things. Proficiency in as many weapons as possible is always an advantage, especially if he learns early." Michonne imagined Andre as a teen - throwing knives, shooting a crossbow, pumping a shotgun – knowing he would have been twice the warrior she was.
"How'd you get so good with a sword anyway? You never struck me as the type who would be into that kind of thing."
"Not to be crass, but we didn't do much talking that night."
Rick chuckled. "We didn't, did we? I still can't believe that was five years ago, it seems like just yesterday…"
Michonne's heart wrenched with happiness and desire. That night did seem like only yesterday; she had thought of it for countless days since then. The memories their time together blanketed her in warmth during her coldest and darkest times.
"I bought the katana a few years ago, for a costume party given by one of the partners at my firm. I was determined to impress, so I bought the best, directly from Japan. Rather than let it collect dust in my garage, I watched a few videos and practiced with it on a regular basis. Turned out to be a great stress reliever and an even better workout. And having those skills now has kept me alive for this long."
"And I'm very grateful for that," Rick said, holding her eyes with his own.
Michonne smiled in return. "Me too…Rick–" she started, but was interrupted by a commotion at the head of the group. Rick hurried ahead to investigate and she followed.
"Show me your hands, buddy," Daryl said, pointing his crossbow at a man standing in the middle of the road. "Nice and slow."
The man was of average build and appeared to be in his late 30s, with curly brown hair and large blue eyes set in a kind face. He reminded Michonne of a high school math teacher. But what really struck her was his clean appearance – not a speck of sweat or dust on his clothes, hands or face.
"Who are you?" Rick asked, hand on the revolver of his Colt, scanning the surrounding area for any signs of danger.
The man smiled cautiously. "Hi, I'm Aaron. And I have a proposition for you."
A/N: So glad to have new followers! Please keep reviewing, I love to hear your comments on what you think will happen next! Rick and Michonne are definitely growing closer and I hope you are enjoying their journey. More to come soon and thanks again for all of the support!