Chapter Five: Doorways (Part 1)

Michonne stood at the entrance of the makeshift rec room, eyes glued on the crowd gathered in the distance. She wasn't sure what had prompted the gathering but it was in full swing. Hershel, Daryl, Sasha, Maggie and Glenn were at a table in the middle trying to appear casual while scrutinizing each other. Rick, Beth and Carol hovered in the periphery while a few of the newer folks milled around to take in the festive environment.

Discovering the little party was only a slight surprise. She hadn't been looking for any company but when she ran into Tyreese, he had urged her to check out whatever was brewing down the hall. He'd just come from there but was on his way to see his lady friend in the other cellblock.

It looked like everyone was having a nice time and Michonne was glad to see it. The winter wasn't as harsh as the previous one and it was nice to have shelter. But it was still rough living at the prison. They were mostly confined indoors due to the heavy snowfall and that made people a little stir crazy. It also made watch a miserable affair and they'd started shortening the shifts last week to keep people from suffering too much out in the cold.

In general, spirits were pretty high though. They had plenty of food and provisions to see them through the season. Everyone had a warm bed and layers enough to keep them from catching too harsh a chill. And when the weather broke, there was the promise of fresh fruits and vegetables from the planting Hershel and Rick had planned.

Despite the soft chatter and occasional laughter, Michonne kept herself on the periphery. She moved quietly from the entrance to lean on the table by the doorway, taking everything in from afar. Concentrated groups made her nervous; there was too much stimuli and distraction. Adding a social factor made it worse, especially for gatherings like this where people were so jovial and carefree. She'd lost so much and could lose more in the future at any moment. It was hard to put all that she'd seen and done aside to share a laugh or pretend that everything was sane and normal; that everything was going to be alright in the end. Being around it just made her sad.

But this was her home now so she could force herself to participate from the fringes of their community. She'd take an interest in their pleasures and show that she did care that they were healthy and as satisfied as this life would allow.

Judging by the crowd, the poker game had been going on for some time with Sasha cleaning up but Daryl and Maggie holding their own. Poor Glenn was almost wiped out and even though Hershel looked like he was close to that too, she wouldn't be surprised if the old man had something up his sleeve.

It wasn't that she didn't want to enjoy this. In these moments, Michonne didn't want to appear even colder than most people thought her already. If there was some way she could turn off the anxiety and panic that welled up, she'd do it. Or she'd like to think she'd do it. These days, the post-traumatic stress felt too much a part of her to move on. That's why she couldn't bring herself to be the person that everyone around her was, no matter how much pressure she felt to conform. This was especially true after what had been going on with her the last few weeks.

Or more accurately, she was concerned about how people saw her after her falling out with Daryl.

It wasn't fair to say that they'd taken his side; that was just her being dramatic which was frustrating in and of itself. It only seemed like Daryl had an easier time dealing with it all because he was closer with these people. In fact, nothing much had changed in the way they interacted with everyone else. There was only that awkwardness and tension at the elephant in the room whenever certain things were said or when they were both in the same area.

Michonne didn't run from anything but this situation had made her feel like hiding out and withdrawing. She tried to fight against that impulse. It wasn't instinct, just simple fear, the source of which would always haunt her. That acknowledgment seemed so inadequate.

Her ex. Her kids. Her boyfriend. All gone just like these people will be one day. Or she will.

Her original post-apocalypse plan felt like ages ago. After traveling the backcountry with her pets, she figured she'd head to the coast and live out her life alone. No need to worry about loss when there's no one to lose. Then all you needed to focus on was protection, security and survival and she was good at that.

But that strategy had gotten complicated when she'd come across a woman in trouble. Andrea. Michonne had lost a lot of herself in the months before yet the instinct to aid someone in need had never fled.

In the beginning, she'd only meant to guide Andrea to her people. Then it turned into maintaining shelter during the winter when traveling around got too difficult. And during all that time, Andrea, in that way of hers, slowly helped Michonne heal. It snuck up on her without her even knowing it. By the time Spring came around, her plans had been about finding a place they could both be safe, just the two of them. That, Michonne could handle. Then Andrea got sick and Michonne's anxiety came back like a boot at her throat. The hope that had started to creep in turned into blind optimism and then transformed to desperation. A plane crash, two sacrificed pets and a car ride later and the game changed completely. The hammer had been lifted and her dream was close to shattering.

It hadn't taken long for her to realize that she was going to lose Andrea to Woodbury.

Michonne didn't think her desires were too much to ask. All she'd wanted was safety without the threat of the walking dead or monsters posing as humans. But that wasn't enough for Andrea and Michonne recognized it deep down. With every moment they stayed in Woodbury, Andrea remembered her old life and who she was; she felt entitled to be a part of that civilized society. But society was no longer civilized and nothing about the Governor's neat cover story or eerily perfect town would convince Michonne otherwise. She didn't think that life was possible any longer.

So she withdrew, reverting back to those early days of strategic survival and planning her exit strategy as she shut down the emotional attachments that would weaken her resolve to move on. And she sensed Andrea slip away as she herself was slipping away.

With the passing days, as suspicion about the Governor's and Woodbury's secrets grew, her trust in her closest friend diminished. She didn't share with Andrea her concerns because she no longer believed her friend would support her like she had in the previous months on their own. It appeared that the power of common comforts and ready acceptance within Andrea's reach was intoxicating after such a harsh journey. It began to erase the ties of friendship. In hindsight, Michonne wondered if she should have had more faith in her friend, not that her regrets changed a damn thing.

Then, the inevitable impasse. It had been easier than she thought to leave Andrea behind; it allowed her to embrace the guilt and isolation that had been her true companions before she let herself get turned around.

Hurting the Governor later had simply been icing.

It was a miracle she'd made it with Rick's group. That initial meeting was met with a lot of fuzziness in her memories. Glenn and Maggie's conversation, Merle jumping out of the shadows, and that damn baby formula that pulled at her sense of right. Things kind of snowballed from there. If she hadn't been so hurt and desperate at the time, who knows where she'd be today.

Then to find out that Andrea had started sleeping with the Governor almost immediately after she left? Michonne didn't dare imagine Andrea calling him "Phillip" like he was a human being and not a monster. She didn't think of them playing house with her estranged friend having no idea he kept his dead daughter and a fish tank full of heads locked up only a room away. It surprised her how brutal the betrayal felt, that her companionship could be replaced so easily and in the most cliché way possible.

Commotion from the table pulled her attention back to the present, a stale bitterness still lingering. She caught Daryl throwing down his cards and grabbing the sizable pile of chips in front of him. He leaned over to mutter something at Sasha that had her rolling her eyes and pushing her cards towards Glenn to collect.

Thoughts of Andrea reminded her of the current situation with Daryl. She'd once mentioned to him, in vague passing, the difficulty of loving people who end up disappointing. She couldn't even remember to whom she was referring at the time, the list being so long. He'd instantly understood where she was coming from. That was something they shared, the deep scars of rejection; not wanting to trust because you had been kicked one too many times to take a chance. Then sometimes you find people who made the leap of faith worth it but that sense of safety and comfort had to be earned. And if you're lucky, maybe you got some reconciliation when the wrongs done in the past cease to overshadow the love shared between two people.

If you weren't lucky, well, there was only the emptiness.

When Michonne woke after a long night on watch, she strolled out into the main cellblock and could instantly tell that something had happened. The silent tension was thick yet whatever had gone down must've done so quickly and far enough away that it hadn't woken her or required her involvement. That didn't stop her from being immediately on her guard.

The first person she ran into was Beth who was descending from the upper level with baby Judith in her arms. She stopped abruptly when she saw Michonne, apprehension written all over her face.

This confirmed to Michonne that what she was about to hear was likely to stir up some trouble.

"What happened?" There was no point in beating around the bush and Michonne was sure her tone got that point across to the meek young woman. "Where is everyone?"

Beth propped Judith up on her hip and looked around. "They left. Tyreese said he saw someone scouting us out in the woods. Daryl took a group to check it out." She made it sound so simple but there was more to it, Michonne was sure of it.

"Who all went?"

Beth shuffled, unable to keep eye contact with Michonne's stern stare. "I'm not sure about the whole group but he took Rick, Tyreese, Sasha, Glenn and Maggie for sure. I think they grabbed some folks from the other block too. They left a couple hours ago."

Those were all their best fighters. Well, everyone besides her. What the hell could have been so important that nobody would have thought to wake her to come along?

"What aren't you saying?"

Beth was silent for a moment, probably hoping that someone else would come around to do the explaining for her. "They think it might be the Governor. That's why they left so quick."

Michonne's face clouded over and she turned in the opposite direction, not sparing Beth another thought. She stopped at her cell to strap on her extra knives and her gun before heading to the exit.

She was almost to the door when she heard her name being called, not coming from Beth, but the older, male voice of her father. Hershel came shuffling from down the hallway, a determination in his expression. "We need you here. Daryl was clear on that before he left."

Clenching her fists, Michonne took a calming breath so as not to snap at the elderly man. "If the Governor is planning something, they need me to help, not just sit around waiting."

"Daryl didn't think so. They're not even sure it's him and not some other random travelers looking to make trouble." He sighed and took another step towards her, catching her eye. "Let him and the others take care 'a this. He has the situation in hand."

Michonne's whole body turned rigid as she braced herself for the onslaught of emotions over the situation, mostly anger, betrayal and worry. All those feelings were warring to defeat the overwhelming helplessness of her standing here when everyone else was out there taking care of what she thought of as her fight.

"Does he, now?" Michonne responded, cold and deadly. With that, she reversed course and headed deeper into the prison. Hershel tracked her but didn't follow.

Michonne spent the next few hours in the infirmary. It was almost always deserted but because it was off the main pathway with the mess hall and library, it was easy for anyone to find her and for her to hear any commotion if there was an emergency. Right before sundown, she heard stirring coming from the cellblocks, mostly leisurely, heavy footsteps and low conversation. She silently slunk back to where the crowd had formed to hear the summary of their excursion: there had been no sign of the Governor but they had picked up four new stragglers. They'd been checking out the prison to figure out if it was worth the risk of requesting shelter from the bitter winter climate.

As soon as she saw that the threat of attack had abated with no one injured or missing, Michonne retreated back to her own devices.

Daryl waited another half an hour before finding her outside on the far end of the prison checking the perimeter for walkers. She'd noticed him at the doorway, the light from the lantern he held and the fading sunlight making his shape unmistakeable. Knowing what was coming, she paced herself as she made the long trek back from the far reaches of the property.

Time had done nothing to soothe her mood.

She stopped a few feet from him, stowing her katana and tightening her coat against the howling wind. They were about to have it out and she didn't want to do it with a weapon in her hand. That they were in the middle of a snow covered patio wasn't ideal but the things that needed said weren't meant for close quarters or curious ears hanging around the periphery. Daryl placed the lantern in the doorway but made no move to speak.

A minute passed. Two minutes. Michonne wasn't going to be the one to start this. He owed her an explanation and she would wait all night for one if she had to.

Finally he sighed and ran tense fingers through his hair. Twelve hours ago, she'd have playfully pestered him about needing to wear a hat outside. Right now, she didn't give a shit what he did.

"I know you're pissed. But I didn't want you out there and it was my call."

If he thought taking the authoritative approach was a good idea, he deserved the scorn she was about to unleash on him.

"Your 'call' was bullshit. You should have told me. You should have brought me with you!"

"Wadn't no time for that and you were knocked out. Would ya rather the Governor get the drop on us waitin' on you? And it don't even matter 'cause it wadn't him no way."

"It doesn't matter, he says." Her humorless chuckle was cold and ridiculing. "We've only been talking about getting our hands on him for months; keeping an eye out so we could take him down after everything he's done." She paused and tried to calm herself, feeling her emotions start to boil over. "You know how important it is to me to make that bastard pay."

"Reckon I do gotta good idea 'a how much you want him to pay for what he done to Andrea. I do too, for Merle and for Maggie and Glenn and all those people he killed from Woodbury. Don't mean you're the one needin' to do it. Not when you been on watch half the night." He sighed and gestured vaguely at her, lowering his voice from raised to insistent moderation. "And not when we ..."

She tensed at his hesitation. "Not when we what? Not when we've been fucking? Your dick doesn't get to make those decisions." At this point, she wanted him to hurt because, whether he intended it or not, the group's actions had hurt her and he was the one taking the blame for it.

Daryl flinched. "It aint like that and you know it. I'm steppin' up here tryin' to keep people safe and that includes you."

"You should have had faith that I'd want to protect these people, our home, just as much as you. I guess when it comes down to it, I'm still on the outside looking in no matter what I do." She turned in frustration, for once wishing a walker would stumble up to her and give her something to drive her knife through.

The reality of this situation came crashing down on her. She should have known better than to let her guard down. Living with these people, even respecting them, that was one thing. But she'd gotten too close and it was causing nothing but problems for her. This was not a world for believing in people anymore. Not for her anyway.

Meanwhile, Michonne had mistaken Daryl's silence for acceptance but it wasn't until she turned back around that she recognized the anger on his face.

"How you gon' say that to me, huh? How many times I let you have my back? Told you things I aint never said to nobody. Everything we got going together is 'cause I got faith in you and 'cause you trust us. But when folks is lookin' at me to lead them, I gotta see past that."

"And what a fine job you did," Michonne mocked, knowing that would stoke insecurities about his burgeoning role with the group. "Whatever issues you've got with me, you take it up with me. But don't go hiding behind the group."

His temper flared at that. "You wanna know the truth? Truth is, we can't have you goin' after the Governor on a goddamn revenge mission every time we get a sniff 'a him. And that's exactly what you'd 'a done if we took you out there. Don't even try to bullshit me by denyin' it. You can't be tryin' to settle a score when we got people to take care of."

He walked a few steps towards the side of the building, agitated and wound tight enough to pounce at the slightest provocation. "Do you know what'd happen if he got the better 'a you? It's game fucking over, that's what'd happen. You saw what he was plannin' for ya back at Woodbury. You'd end up worse off than Andrea 'cause at least she went quick." He paused and then stood in front of her, pointing right at her to get his meaning across. "Merle was right. You let him get a hold 'a ya and he'll fuck you up and do all kinds a' sick shit to you before leavin' ya for dead."

Michonne did her best not to flinch at the mention of Andrea. It always stirred up her feelings of guilt at the ways she and her friend had failed each other. Why would he bring Andrea into this, if not to make her feel worse?

"What makes you so damn sure he's gonna get the better of me? I was protecting myself way before I got here. Nothing's changed. I can take care of myself!"

"Aint never doubted it. But I'm talkin' 'bout if you can take care 'a us, this group of folk right here. You got any idea what it'd do to us if that asshole got his hands on you?"

"Us or you, Daryl?" Michonne felt like running or hitting something, anything to keep from showing this man how much he could wound her. He'd sleep with her but he wouldn't rely on her to choose the community's safety over her own ends? When he'd been called on to take a more prominent role in the group, she had encouraged him. Now he made it sound like believing in her was some kind of liability to his place here. Damn him if he thought he could treat her like that.

The shadows settled onto the patio as the sun disappeared behind them. She noted that Daryl didn't even bother to respond to her last accusation, opting to return to his pacing.

Michonne had a point to prove though and she wasn't going to go out defeated on this. "When have I ever given you cause to doubt my loyalty? I try every day to earn my place here, even when the urge to shut everyone out and run is overwhelming. Did you think about that when you justified your little field trip? Or was it just really convenient for you that I was asleep when this all went down and you got to tiptoe out the backdoor with me none the wiser." Unlike him, she wasn't yelling but her words had a lethal grit that did nothing to conceal her anger. "I never took you for such a coward." she spat out in disgust.

Daryl whirled back around on her. "I aint sayin' I'm gonna make the right call all the time. Maybe I didn't here. I did what I thought I shoulda for the group and for you. But I aint no coward. And fuck you for sayin that."

Michonne was too far gone to appreciate the subtext of his confession. "At least I said it to your face. That's more than I got from you. From any of you." She tried and failed to keep the hurt from her voice.

The silence between them was frosty and not just due to the bitter wind. Daryl stood standing with his hands akimbo, looking everywhere but at the woman in front of him. Michonne, on the other hand, stared right at him, rigid with anger and self-righteousness. Finally, he bowed his head before glancing back in her direction.

"It's cold out here and I'm done with this shit." He turned and walked back through the doorway, grabbing the lantern as he went. Not affording her another sign of his attention, Daryl left her standing outside in the darkness.

tbc ...

AN: Such angst for the sulking Michonne and her sad issues. I'll likely post the next section sometime tomorrow (I'm about 90% sure of that. Part 2 is done but just needs one more line edit.). As always, I appreciate you sticking around for this story and many thanks to those of you who have reviewed and alerted.