A/N: Thank you guys for allowing me to read your thoughts on this story. I appreciate all the follows. This chapter was a tough one. For future reference flashbacks will be indicated by italics.
Thanks for sticking with me.
Sophia
Don't Forget To Remember Me
"Rick you should go home. Get a change of clothes. Dad just left, he said he'll be back soon." It was another fervent attempt; the fifth one for the day, to remove her brother from his vigil at Michonne's bedside. Maggie, like the rest of their friends and family had stayed, mostly in shifts at the hospital in full hope and support of Michonne and Andrea's conditions. While Andrea looked like she was coming out of the woods there had been no change in the two days since Michonne had been administered in a rush to Brash General Hospital. Two days since their world had been sent into a dizzying spiral of the uncertainty left behind by the dreadful accident that claimed the life of the drunk truck driver and left Andrea and Michonne unconscious for the past day and a half. Andrea had been intently coma induced due to the extent of her injuries; slight swelling to her brain, a broken arm, broken collarbone, too many cuts and bruises on her beautiful face to count.
Michonne was in a more severe condition, she remained unconscious at the scene, suffering a ghastly blow to her head as it pummeled against the dashboard right before the metallic cabin crumpled, changing so many lives in a domino effect. She was officially given coma status as at yesterday morning, with no timestamp to when or if she would wake up. The one plus was the simple yet amazing feat that she was breathing on her own, Her doctors remained positive her brain had slipped into protective mode from the injuries sustained, implying but not directly saying her brain would heal in due time and she would awaken, return to her normal life; the accident a distant memory. Rick didn't want false hope but it had been a struggle seeing the lifeless state she was in.
"I'm fine!" His voice was like sandpaper having remained silent for the most part of 36 hours, so his answer came out more coarse than he intended. He was unable to tear his eyes away from his wife's pale face. Truthfully he was the opposite of fine. He was experiencing abject agony which lead to his discomposure, trepidation seeping into his pores every now and then.
The only person who could fix him lay stationary before him on the hospital bed with her eyes closed shut.
Maggie made another attempt at breaking his anarchy, Rick's eyes were red rimmed, dazed even having not slept since Saturday night. He was wearing the same clothes he had rushed to the hospital in; a dark denim jeans and a blue shirt that he rolled all the way up to his elbows.
"This isn't what she would want."
"I'm what she would want!" He realized how sharp his tone was to his sister and he reached for her hand before any dejection could land on her worried face. She was hurting too.
"She's gonna wake up soon and I don't wanna miss it." He remained optimistic that she would wake up despite his intermittent trips into a dark world that didn't experience her existence anymore.
Maggie didn't know it but her concerned voice was able to pull him back from the evil, torturous recesses of his mind where he was contemplating what it could possibly mean living without her. It had only been a day and a half and he was already feeling like he was walking in shoes without a sole. He was making feigned attempts to play a guitar without strings. He felt like an orchestra without a symphony. If he took his eyes off her for even one minute he knew he would lose it completely. Together they ran a tight team. She made their lives richer, ensuring they fired on all cylinders. He may be the quarterback of their tightly woven unit but she was the coach that kept them all running, motivated and sane.
"She is, but you know your wife...she isn't going to approve of you being in the same clothes for days." She got his attention as he directed his distant gaze to her, she knew the Michonne induced requirement would coax her brother into willing submission.
"You're right." He rubbed the nape of his neck, another attempt to soothe away his tiredness. Maybe a shower might make him feel better, at least give him a temporary reprieve from the nightmare he had been living in since 10:47 pm Saturday night. "I'll go home, maybe get her some fresh clothes. I'll check on the boys." Deanna was able to lure the boys to her house for an impromptu sleepover which they were all on board for. They knew something was wrong with their mother, they just didn't know what. Rick figured it was time he gave them a small spec of information not wanting to sadden them too much.
Carl, Andre and Michonne were three peas in a pod and he knew they were feeling the brunt of her absence. He wanted to protect his kids from the pain he was experiencing but he couldn't hide the truth from them much longer. He rose from the plastic chair that had been brought in the room by Dr. King; Rick made it clear to everyone he had no intention on leaving his wife.
Maggie felt relieved, as scared and concerned as she was for Michonne she was worried about the anguish Rick wore on his face like a second skin.
"This isn't it Maggie." He looked at Michonne on the bed and he observed in his peripheral Maggie swiping her tear stained cheeks again. "There's more, there's gotta be more." It was supposed to be a regular weekend of running errands, taking the kids to their various activities and enjoying unencumbered quality time together. On Sundays he made them pancakes which was a treat in itself. Michonne would always ask for seconds and it thrilled him that he was the owner of her pancake satisfied smile. He had five amazing years being her husband but their journey had only just begun. He wanted his whole life to unravel with her at his side, and still that time wouldn't be enough.
He looked away from her as his face turned red, the memory of their moments of bliss burning his retinas.
He felt Maggie's small hand brush his arm and he faced her, "There's more Rick. This isn't the end."
It was no secret the love between the pair was potent in its elixir, had been from the start. She wanted to believe it was also not easily broken. She saw the toll the uncertainty of it all was taking on Rick. If he needed her voice of faith she would give it to him, she didn't want him alone in his pain.
He tried to hide it from her but she saw the guilt he masked too, he prided himself on being the Sheriff of King County where protecting people was his job but he couldn't protect his own wife and Maggie knew he may never forgive himself for it.
She knew Michonne would come back to Rick. For Rick's sake, she had to.
"If she wakes up while I'm gone, could you tell her I'll be back soon. I don't want her to think I abandoned her." Maggie touched his arm in a persistent effort to placate him. "She won't think that. Go see your boys and get back here. You're the first face she'd wanna see." The sentiment behind her words brought a smile to his face, he kissed her cheek then kissed the top of Michonne's head as though she was delicate as a brittle rose. I love you was all he whispered before he left.
…..
Their large home was eerily quiet, Rick couldn't recall one day since they became husband and wife the house had been so calm. There was always something going on; a game on TV, the boys running through the house, the girls holding a fussy posse meeting. He didn't mind, it all added to the homey feel of the two story suburban home that belonged to them. He didn't think his life would've been this fulfilling a few years ago but everything changed the day he saw her.
Rick met Michonne through Maggie when she was already four months pregnant with Andre. Her boyfriend Mike had passed away before he knew he was going to be a father. Michonne and Mike had broken up months before reaching a plateauing stage in their relationship with nowhere to go. Mike was studying to be a pilot and almost was never around. She didn't have to give him an ultimatum, he chose the thing he loved most and chased after it with a passion she wished she had gotten a taste of. Mike had been her first and she loved him with everything she possessed but in the end it wasn't sufficient. It was the thing he loved so much that killed him; a rented Cessna for a flying expedition with a friend had taken his life. Michonne was grateful in his passing he left her with a precious gift. Still in her last year of College she was determined to finish her law degree and make a life for herself and her son.
At the time of their encounter Maggie invited Rick and five year old Carl out to Atlanta for a reprieve from the every day reminder of Lori's untimely death in the busy town called King County. Rick finally took her up on the offer and their seemingly fated meet was indelible. She formed a bond with Carl months before as Maggie often had her only nephew loaded up on Skype, so when the two finally met in person the link crafted over an internet connection was reinforced and sharpened with a strong friendship between the comic lovers. Michonne took tour guide status and showed them all the major sites of the grand city and Rick fell deeper for the beautiful woman that somehow made his sadness dissipate. He could see why Maggie couldn't stop talking about her. She reminded him how to smile when he thought he'd forgotten how to.
Two months later they were deeply in love but the fact remained Michonne like Maggie, left King County to obtain another degree with a certainty she wasn't going back home. Being with Rick changed her plans, which was a big thing for Michonne because she lived by knowing her next move. After she graduated with her second degree, she found herself back in King County, reunited with her friends and family and planning a life with him.
By the time they were married Andre had been born. The move to the large but comfortable house Rick purchased for them involved merging four lives into one. With a newborn baby, an almost six year old and his newly appointed job as Sheriff, there were no quiet moments in the Grimes' household but he wouldn't trade that time of gelling for anything in the world.
He loved his family and he loved his wife.
He sat at the dining table where they enjoyed hundreds of noisy dinners together and fished her cell phone out of his pocket. It had been the one thing that had been salvaged from the wreck which Rick found strange as both cars had been totalled in the collision. He entered her passcode; their wedding anniversary and a picture of all four of them smiling like their life depended on it graced her home screen. His heart dipped in remembrance of the fun July 4th holiday they spent together. He went directly to her messages and pulled up their last text conversation. He remembered discussing signing Dre up for basketball and he saw another reminder to have the lights on the front porch checked, which he was yet to handle. His thumb was eager as he scrolled, needing to see their names together in the Times New Roman font she was so fond of. It was necessary to witness in some universe they still existed together.
There was a random message saying I love you and he remembered the day she sent it and how her affirmation of her feelings for him, changed the course of his day. He previewed his message about being late to the party and how he arranged with Daryl to take her home.
Guilt set in deeper in his belly. Had he been able to make the party the string of events that took place afterwards would be altered and his wife wouldn't be in a bleak room hooked up to monster machines. His hand found his nose bridge and he pinched it, closing his eyes he tried to take a deep breath. It was getting harder to breathe. His lungs felt full of pressure but empty of the air required to function.
How was he supposed to be alright while she suffered?
It should've been me.
Before he could continue to scroll, the blinking light of the answering machine resting on the marble top counter caught his attention. Someone may have called to inquire about her status while he was out. He approached the black device and his heart skipped a beat or two upon detection the voicemail was from Michonne, it was dated a half hour before the accident. He couldn't recall the phone ringing when she'd been out that night. He surmised while the message was in a delayed transit, he was already on his way to the hospital.
His hand shook with a type of sorrowful excitement he never felt before. He didn't realize how much he needed to hear the sound of her voice. He picked up the phone and placed it to his ear, it was an intentional delusion; to pretend she was on the other end of the line, breathing and talking to him. He felt his control slipping. He was going to do everything in his power to grip onto his sanity, their boys needed him. He set the phone down on the receiver, pressed play and returned to the six piece dining table set, resting his head on the wooden frame while he prepared himself to be soothed by her calming voice.
Hey babe, I'm outside the house waiting on Andie. I know you're probably on the couch waiting up for me which probably means you're using my Netflix. Again. Don't you dare watch another episode of Blacklist without me Rick, I mean it! And If the boys wake up please no sugar! ….You know I was thinking about what you said tonight, you're right Rick. You've always been right about us even from the start. We're not like them. We can handle anything because we always do it together. I love you so much Rick. Don't fall asleep. We have some more baby making to do. Ok Andie's coming. You know I'm gonna give her piece of my mind right? See you in a bit.
He didn't know when the tears that welled from deep inside began to course down his cheeks but her cheery voice broke him and for the first time since he let her leave the safety of his arms and he saw her almost lifeless body on the bed, he acknowledged how desolate he felt.
….
"Dadeee!" Andre leapt into his waiting arms before he could reach inside the house, eager to see his father. Rick scooped him up, breathing in his little boy scent, "Hey buddy. You being good for Grandma?" He approached the kitchen where Deanna and Carl stood hovering over two bowls with what he assumed were cookie dough. Carl ran up to him and gave him a waist hug. With the boys close to him he felt a measure of peace, being with them always had that effect on him.
"Where's mom? Grandma said she had a bad headache. Is she better now? Can we go see her?" Carl was the first one, as expected to fire all these questions to him in anticipation of a favored response.
Deanna turned to the sink and stared out the slider window, the sunlight was streaming in, dancing on her face. Rick saw the strain there and he knew how difficult it must be for her to be normal for the boys when inside she was just as scared for Michonne as everybody else. She loved her daughter dearly.
Sasha, Michonne and Deanna didn't start off on solid footing. When their mother died Michonne was only thirteen to Sasha's ten and a year later their father married Deanna. Despite their instant disapproval the two young girls needed a mother and Deanna won them both over with her charm and no nonsense personality. Eventually she earned the nickname NutherMother but names don't matter when you understand the role someone holds in your life. Now she was a devoted grandmother and she couldn't be more proud.
He was battling with himself on how much to say as he sat Andre on his lap and Carl took the chair opposite him. "Mummy was in a car accident and she hurt her head. So she's getting some rest at the hospital so she could feel stronger before she comes home ok." It was the best he could do, uncertain of the rules for this type of thing.
"So when she's strong enough you'll bring her back to us?" Carl asked as Andre snuggled deeper into Rick's embrace.
"That's the plan." He stared into eyes that mirrored his, Carl was a smart kid, he wasn't fooled easily.
"Is she going to die?" he finally asked as his words tumbled out in a grumble. Rick pointed at Andre and shook his head. "Nobody is dying." He was playing God for the sake of his children. "Mommy is gonna be fine. I need you to look out for your brother while you're at Grandma's. I'll come check up on you again. I brought you guys some more clothes." Carl nodded, still not convinced everything was as okay as his dad was telling him. "Now go upstairs and go over those equations. You've got exams this week. Dre go help him."
He watched them try to out race each other on the fancy staircase, out of his sight line he yanked a hand through his hair.
Deanna placed a glass with a small amount of whisky in front of him and sat down.
"I knew when you didn't call there was no change."
The golden liquid slipped down his throat, the burning sensation allowing him to feel something other than grief. "She'll pull through." Was all he muttered staring at the now empty glass.
"Rick." She touched his arm softly, "She will. Michonne has a lot of will and determination." She'd witnessed personally time and time again the hurdles she'd crossed to achieve the life she had today. "How are you holding up?"
"I'm fine." He didn't want to sound phony or dishonest but he didn't want to get into how he was feeling right now. He knew his mother in law meant well but he'd been wearing a mask since everything happened and it was easier to keep it on than put his feelings out there.
"You can sleep here if you can't sleep at the house. We'll take turns with her and call you when she wakes up."
"I can't leave her Deanna." He knew if the situation was reversed she would do the same for him. He was tired but it was the kind of tired that sleep couldn't fix.
"I just miss her you know…" The words dropped off, it made no sense in lamenting. "Look...I uh..I appreciate all your help with the boys. Dad said he may take them tomorrow if need be. I'll keep you posted." He walked in a haste to the large front door and knew she was on his heels. Deanna had a way of making you see things you never noticed but he didn't have time to be prodded.
"Rick." Her short stature always held command and he could see why she used to be in politics.
He turned slowly towards her after opening the door. The sun was dazzling in its brightness, in perfect competition with the darkness he felt inside.
"Maybe it isn't supposed to be easy for you two. Maybe you're both the rare kind that can handle tough times and come out stronger for it. Everything happens for a reason. Don't let this beat you. Don't let it tear you down. She needs you strong. Allow this to make you stronger. For her. For yourself. For your boys. She's gonna need that strength from you when she wakes up. And she's gonna wake up. But where you find that strength isn't up to fate. It's up to you."
Her words ebbed and flowed into his soul, he nodded slightly and left.
….
"Is she….is she dead?" Andrea choked out the question as her voice remained grainy from misuse. Shane approached her bed, a soft smile whispering on his face, he had bolted from the chair he occupied when he noticed her eyes were opened.
"Hey. Thank God. You've were pretty banged up. How are you feeling?" His hands itched to sooth her forehead, to feel her breathing body under his touch but he laced his hands together instead, uncertain of her reaction.
"I feel like a truck ran over me." Andrea felt every word of the cliche statement. Her left arm was in a cast. Her shoulder was heavily bandaged and she had a headache the size of Guatemala. Her concern however remained for Michonne, remembering the horrors of the night of the accident and how the paramedics had broken every speeding regulation to get them to urgently required medical attention.
How long had she been out for?
If Michonne died and she was the one to escape death, it would prove how unfair the world was. What if death tricked her instead? Allowing her to live in her own private hell by facing every day without the one person who never failed her; knowing she was the one to be blamed for her friend's death. A fire burned in her belly at the thought.
She looked at Shane for an answer she wasn't sure she wanted to hear, worry was etched on every crevice of his face and it gave her more caution than calm.
"She's umm.. she's not awake yet. She's in a coma."
Andrea yanked the tube from her nose with her uninjured hand and struggled to get off the tall hospital bed.
"Now come on now Andrea…" he tried to stabilize her on the bed, she jerked her shoulder in a vague attempt to avoid his hold. She cried out in pain, she didn't realize her collarbone had been so severely damaged.
She collapsed on the pillow panting, trying to catch her breath. "This is all my fault Shane. All because of our stupid fight. I have to see her." White flashing images of the accident played on her mind, she recalled the memory vividly; she heard Michonne asking her twice if she was okay until she couldn't hear her voice anymore. Then the darkness needed her company too and consumed her whole. Andrea couldn't stop the tears that poured out.
Shane ached to touch her, his fingers trembled wanting desperately to mitigate her grief.
She looked scared on the bed, the white gown shrinking her size creating an almost childlike appearance. Relief at her conscious state combated with sadness at their distance physically and emotionally. He was damn well certain fate had given them a second chance but he would allow Andrea to walk her own Damascus road, to her own truths.
"Michonne's gonna pull through, you girls are tough." He believed in what he was spitting out but he wasn't sure how either of them would take the news of the truck driver's death.
"It's not fair. I'm the one who should be in her place. I can't lose her too…... Why are you here Shane? Can't you see the bad in me?" She took her hand and dried her tears untidily. She never understood why it was easier for her to be angry instead of amiable. She knew why he came but there was one thing she knew she did not deserve; his kindness. The last thing she wanted to be on him was a burden.
"We're not married anymore. You have no obligation to-"
He was troubled by how quickly she could go from loving to self-loathing. He cut her off with an exasperated raise of his hand, "I'm here because I love you. I'm here because when I heard about the accident…..well my world crashed too. I'm here because you need someone to take care of you. You have a broken arm, your collarbone is messed up. And yeah you've been a pain in the ass. And you've given me the worse case of heartache I've ever felt but I'm the only man for the job….. so sit still. I'm gonna check on Michonne and get your Doctor." His words were a bit harsh but to the point, which made her feel more guilty for her recent actions but all she could think about was her best friend.
She wondered if Rick and the boys were okay. Michonne had every reason to live unlike her, she wasn't sure she had anything to keep her anchored, even after hearing all that Shane said. After the horrors she caused Michonne she knew she wasn't eligible for happiness, especially with Shane Walsh. It wasn't her fault he loved her via flashbacks of all the good times they had.
She was beginning to feel exhausted, her body was lancing intensely, dragging her to different peaks of pain. She opted to be quiet, while Shane fussed all around her, she battled with negative thoughts pulling her in the wrong direction.
"You need anything before I go?" He had poured her a glass of water, tucked the blanket around her and drew the blinds to direct some light into her room.
She looked at him blankly and asked a question that had plagued her since her eyes opened to face her gloomy life.
"Shane….why didn't I die?" He didn't know how to respond but he realized somehow she was more broken than he ever thought possible.
He pulled the chair closer to her bed and laced their hands together. The connection was needed, he wished he could hear her voice again. The smoothness of her tone always centred him. He persuaded himself to allow her to hear his voice instead. Perhaps if he emptied his heavy heart to her he might feel a little lighter and become a bit stronger. For her, he would try.
He kissed her long fingers and began…...
"The boys miss you. I miss you. I miss you so damn much Michonne. But I'm trying to be strong because that's what you would want from me. Baby I'm so sorry. I should've gone instead. I should have never let you leave the house. It should be me in this bed, I'd trade places with you in a heartbeat Michonne. Because somehow this world is brighter and better with you in it. I know you can hear me. I know you're in there somewhere and that's why you have to find a way to beat this. You can do this. I know you can. You don't let anything stop you. It's why that first day we met you had me so hooked. I was amazed by your strength, your fortitude. Fight this baby, for Andre, for Carl, for us."
A tear escaped his sorrowful eyes as his head sanked down into the bed. "Come back to me Michonne, I refuse to let you go. Besides...you owe me a fight. From last week when I got home late for dinner and I didn't call in advance to warn you about the pet hamster I bought for the boys…...and then he escaped."
He let out something resembling a laugh recalling the excitement of the night in question and how pissed she was at him for the unexpected present that somehow found its way in their bedroom.
"You said we'd save that fight. And I know you meant it so you owe me! You hear me?" There was only the sound of the heart monitor and a few other machines he didn't know the names of that provided the musical backdrop to his monologue with its constant beats.
He barely heard the medical terms used by the Doctor when they were explaining her condition. It was stupid not to listen at the time or be a little observant but he genuinely didn't believe she would be here for so long.
It's what the brain does in unspeakable tragedies, his was refusing to process the horrors of it all and instead latched onto the safety of believing she would be home sooner rather than later. It was a sketchy flashback as he recalled a few things said when he was still in a haze from the news of her accident.
Completely unresponsive. Possible brain damage. Broken Ribs. Dislocated Shoulder. Neurology Unit. CT Scans.
He needed a medical encyclopedia to understand all of it, but he got the jist. The woman he loved could die at the hands of a drunk driver who didn't have the gaul to stay alive and face his wrath.
The plastic hose in her mouth and the device stuck to her head, measuring something called intracranial pressure did not take away from her beauty. She was a bit banged up but the plastic sacks filled with liquids, slowly dripping some measure of life into her arms made him feel hopeful even though a stranger looking at her condition could easily be without hope.
This was his wife, his best friend and she was a fighter, besides there wasn't a way he could live without her. The treacherous thought made him feel sad and guilty. He didn't experience this level of despair when Lori died. A skiing accident had taken her life six months after their divorce. She died in the manner she lived, quick, fast and reckless. Not giving much thought to those she left in her wake. It hurt him though and he mourned the girl he loved when he was eighteen years old but Lori had been dead to him even before she physically passed from this world.
The dark skin beauty that happily took his last name was his life saver. An angel appearing in a timely moment when he thought loneliness would be a faithful friend. He touched her lukewarm hand in an effort to assuage his racing thoughts, "I can't do this without you Michonne. What do we always say to each other? You and I... we're meant to be. You're the most important person in my life. I love you. Please stay." He sniffled and lifted his head, watching her chest rise and fall with each hopeful breath she took of her own volition. He felt encouraged she was hearing him loud and clear and she was fighting her way back to the light. Back to him.
"When you come back to me, however you come back to me...I'll be right here waiting for you. I promise."
She was embedded in a deep fog and she was trying her damndest to wrestle free of its hold on her. She knew she had to open her eyes, she had slept enough. Someone was calling her out of the mist but she struggled to place the deep voice that spoke her name with such urgency. She knew her equilibrium was off but the longer she slept the worse it might get.
She decided it was time to stumble out of the disjointed smog she had been dwelling in.
The first thing that ambushed her was the light in the room, she had to shield her eyes from the onslaught. Her vision was dim at the edges, it took a few steady blinks for her eyes to acclimatized to the brightness. She sat up slowly on the bed, trying to move but her depth perception was off as well. The room was cold and it highlighted the pain that radiated throughout her entire body. Her head had a constant throbbing so severe even in her sleep she felt it. Something happened to her she just didn't recall what it was.
It didn't take long for her to deduce she was in the hospital.
Was she in an accident?
Where was her son? Her husband? Why weren't they here?
Maggie entered the cream door quietly, a cup of water in her hand and a tall, commanding dreadlocked Doctor stepped in behind her. She and Maggie had remained close friends after College but she wondered how she knew where to find her. Hopefully Maggie could give her more information on her family.
"Michonne." The Doctor's strong voice boomed in the room and startled her slightly, but this man could give her more information than she had presently. "How are you feeling?"
Maggie's hand remained over her mouth as though she was in disbelief Michonne was real.
"My head hurts. What happened to me?" She asked her friend, her body was screaming in pain. She was feeling more disoriented than she was when she first woke up.
"You don't remember?" Maggie's brow furrowed, her tone bewildered.
Michonne shook her head slowly.
"Michonne, it's ok. You were in a horrible car accident. Suffered some serious injuries. You were in a coma for a few days. Details will be sketchy. Try not to stress."
Accident? Serious injuries? Coma? Everything sounded foreign to her.
"Where's my husband?" She was beginning to feel afraid.
Another man entered the room but stood by the door in silent surveillance, his face brightened like the midday sun when his bluer than blue eyes rested on her.
"I'm here babe."
Before Maggie could grab his attention the man strided to her bed, he touched her blanketed foot and said, "I'm right here." Rick was too overcome with joy to question why she was asking for him when he was within her line of vision. There was a perplexity to her face when he touched her that left him concerned.
Michonne's eyes darted all over the now shrinking room before they fell on him again. There was a gutted silence among the four of them as Rick stood in front her bed like a statue, his grip on the bed rail turning his knuckles white.
Her dancing eyes, her inability to meet his gaze had him fearing the worst.
"You don't know who I am?" Rick's voice was a whisper and the dismay he tried to hide echoed in the room.
"You're not a Doctor?" She asked cautiously. She just wanted to know where her family was.
Rick hung his head, his hand roughly parting through his disarrayed curls. His wife was looking at him like he was a stranger.
"Michonne, Rick is your husband. You don't remember him at all?" Dr. King asked as he scanned her chart in detail.
"I don't know who he is. Mike is my husband and I would like to know where he is please." Her eyes filled with tears as she fought the heavy stream of mass addling. Her recall was muddled.
"Oh God!" Maggie exclaimed as her eyes filled with sad tears too.
The doctor turned to Rick and Maggie as he briefly but quietly explained Michonne may have damages to her hippocampus which may lead to short or long term amnesia. They would need to run more tests.
"I don't know where my baby is."
Her words were desperate and Rick felt as though his heart stopped beating as the foreign words dropped from her lips. She thought she was married to Mike when they weren't ever engaged. She had no recollection of who he was. Everything would need to be explained.
I don't know who he is.
He felt crushed. He ran shaky fingers over his face. He was happy she was awake but a deeper feeling welled inside, competing with his gratitude; sadness, disappointment.
He thought things couldn't get any worse but what's worse than Michonne forgetting the life they built together?
His wife was awake but her visceral reaction to his close proximity implied she had no memory of who he was and now he would have the bitter task of destroying her world again when he informed her the husband she was asking for was dead.
