AN: Here we go, another little chapter.

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

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Tyreese made it to the gates while they were all still gathered there, waiting to see whatever there was to see. He bypassed everyone, though, and went straight up, unlocking the heavy padlock that held the chains closed.

"What are you doing?" Michonne asked.

"I'm going out there," Tyreese said. "I waited as long as I agreed to wait…"

Michonne nodded, leaving him be. He slid the gate open and slipped out of it, closing it back but not chaining it. There weren't any Walkers around the area anyway…and even if there were they would have posed little threat with all of them bunching around the gates as they were.

It wasn't very long before Tyreese came back into sight, carrying Carol bridal style, and Michonne pushed the gate open to let him pass.

"Are you OK?" Michonne asked Carol as Tyreese came inside with her. She was covered in blood, but she really didn't look injured. If anything, she looked almost amused at Tyreese.

"I'm fine," she declared. "Turned my ankle…most of the blood isn't mine…"

"But some of it is…" Tyreese said, his voice straining slightly but giving no other indication that carrying Carol might be more of a chore than walking all on his own. "Mark? Muh?" He asked quickly.

"Headquarters," Michonne shot back, equally as quickly.

Tyreese didn't wait to ask if anyone was coming or to offer any information. He headed in the direction of headquarters with Carol and Michonne took out her knife and ventured out the gates, glancing around for signs of Walkers…of which she found none for the moment. What had been lingering around had likely headed after the gunshot.

Carl came sauntering into sight next, also wearing a decent amount of blood and carrying the bow that Beau had made for him slung over his shoulder.

"What happened?" Michonne asked, stopping his forward progress.

He looked at her, almost dazed, and shrugged his shoulders.

"She tried to kill Carol…" he offered. "Just like we thought she would. They fought, Carol stabbed her…we all shot her. Daryl and Dad, they're coming."

Carl passed Michonne, obviously and understandably a little dazed by what had taken place, and made his way to the gates. Michonne followed him.

"They want a blanket," Carl said, signing the words for Sadie who nodded and without saying anything started off in a determined pace toward the houses. Carl followed after her, slower than she was moving, and Michonne turned to Lisette and Maggie.

"The men are coming with…the body," Michonne offered. "I'm going to step down to headquarters…check on Carol…but I'll be back to help dig the grave."

Maggie nodded at Michonne and Lisette looked at her, offering her something of a change of facial expression.

When Michonne made it down to headquarters, Mark and Muh had Carol seated at the table and Muh was sitting on the floor by her foot, perched on a little wooden stool that the kept around for the children, Carol's foot in her lap, while Mark was obviously putting stitches into a cut on her arm.

Tyreese hovered behind her, his jaw set, both his hands on her shoulders.

"You alright?" Michonne asked.

Carol nodded.

"Just fine," she declared. "Though Muh says I have to get the crutches…for just a few days."

Michonne nodded her head.

"I can get them, they're in storage," she said. "So you got her too?"

Carol nodded her head.

"I had to," she said. "When she came at me…I got scared they wouldn't shoot in time…I had to protect myself…"

Michonne nodded her head, thinking that perhaps Carol had misunderstood her words as something of accusation.

"No, that's good," Michonne said. "She underestimated you…you did what you needed to do."

Michonne glanced at Tyreese and smiled slightly at his facial expression.

"Poor Ty…he's about to drive himself crazy," she teased, keeping her voice at the somewhat solemn tone they'd all seemed to naturally choose.

Carol reached up the arm that she had free and dug her fingertips under his on her shoulders and Michonne saw him squeeze it, a smile flitting across Carol's lips.

"I think he'll make it…" Carol said.

"I'm going down there…unless you need something. We should help them dig the grave…get ready for the funeral," Michonne offered.

"With all due respect," Tyreese said, his first words since the gate, "I won't be helping with the funeral…"

He turned his eyes to Michonne and she nodded her head at him. She understood. She really did. Mercedes had tried to kill Carol, and Tyreese took that very personally. He wouldn't want to help her.

"Yeah…I understand," she offered. "I'll be back to help with the food…just take it easy," she said, directing her comment toward Carol and stepping back out the way she'd come in to help with whatever they might require of her.

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The day was done and everyone else in the community was likely asleep. At least, Michonne knew, that everyone else in their household was asleep.

Surprisingly, or maybe not surprisingly, hardly anyone had bothered to come for the girl's funeral. They weren't even putting on a show for decorum. Michonne had stayed, sweaty and muddy from jumping in and digging. Daryl and Rick had stayed. Sadie and Lisette had stood together. And Calista had come at the last moment with Muh and Haralee.

And Lisette and Calista had done the best they could, perhaps, to offer a few words about the girl, though it mostly circled around the fact that they hoped she found some peace. And Muh had spoken a few words to all of them about Mercedes new journey…and about how they must see her off so that she could begin again, new…and so that her steps, perhaps, to start the new journey might be better guided by their spirits reaching out to her.

Michonne had felt sad about the whole thing, though she was sure that her sadness was simply relating to the fact that a young woman had lost her life…and before that her sanity…and not so much to any real feeling for Mercedes herself.

The community had continued on with the rest of their day, everyone doing what needed to be done in the normal fashion, but they had guarded a certain solemnity. And maybe it was owing to the death of Mercedes, or maybe it was simply owing to what it showed them all about the world they lived in now.

When night had fallen, Judith had gone to bed as normal, and Zeb had too.

They teased always and called Zeb the old man of the bunch because he liked bedtime, and sometimes he liked it so much that he would force it to be earlier than it had to be. He liked his dinner, a little light entertainment afterwards, some warm milk and nice wipe down, and then he was ready, like an old man, to turn in. Tonight had been no different.

Hope, on the other hand, had pushed the envelope a little and wanted to stay up…so Michonne and Daryl had brought her downstairs with them so that she wouldn't keep Judith and Zeb from sleeping.

And now, Daryl was lying on his back on the couch, half asleep, with Hope passed out and draped across him while Michonne sat on the floor next to them and leaned her head over, touching his shoulder.

When Daryl spoke, Michonne actually jumped because the sound was so out of place in the silence that had fallen over them and hung there…in fact, she suspected she might have been close to dozing off, and she was surprised to find that he wasn't sleeping when she'd almost suspected he might be.

"When I first thought about us killin' that girl…" Daryl said, his voice coming out a little hoarse because he'd been so close to sleep, "I was real bothered about it, 'Chonne…kept thinkin' about some of our own…kept thinkin' about Libby…figured how bad it would bother me if someone just up and decided to kill her…ya know? Just up and killed her for no damn reason, really, except she's a lil' damn bit violent sometimes…"

Michonne moved only slightly from her position.

"Libby's only violent if she's backed into a corner," Michonne said, though she was sure she understood what he was saying. He was simply thinking about the fact that if someone else killed one of their own…one of the people they cared about…they would be hurt by it. "Daryl…Libby doesn't want to kill anybody, but she'll kill if she has to. No one would have any reason to kill her…not unless they were just out to kill…and that's not what this was about."

Daryl was silent for a moment and Michonne saw him move his hand, the one not resting on Hope's back, and gently rub Hope's fingers between his own fingers while the little girl slept, not seeming to notice at all anything beyond the dreams that were fueled by the warmth of her father's body, his beating heart, and the rise and fall of the chest she'd made into a bed.

Daryl hummed something before he started speaking again.

"I know that…and I figured it out while we was out there," Daryl said. "While I was watchin' and waitin' for something…I kept thinkin' about how Ty was sayin' that he loved Carol just the same as I love you…and that this kid they havin' it's his kid…means just as much to him as Hope and Zeb mean to us…and I got to thinkin' that I didn't have no damn problem puttin' an arrow right into this girl. Because if she'd just up and go after Carol like that…she'd come after Hope and Zeb when she got the chance…she wouldn't even care that they just babies…"

Michonne hummed her understanding of what he said.

"You're right…she'd have eventually gone after them. And who knows who else she'd have gone after," Michonne said. "Somebody got hurt…she saw them as a liability? It's possible she could kill anyone. She wasn't stable…you did the right thing."

Daryl hummed again, still gently rubbing Hope's hand.

"I weren't even sorry after I done it, 'Chonne. Went right down there…checked to make sure she was dead…that she weren't comin' back. I didn't feel not one damn bit sorry for it. That's the kinda man I've become, 'Chonne," Daryl said.

Michonne shifted around, coming up on her knees and she reached her hand out, tipping Daryl's face toward her enough that she could gently press her lips to his.

"You're a good man and don't you ever doubt that," Michonne said. "You did what you had to do. You do what you have to do…we all do…to protect your family and those that you care about. There's nothing wrong with that. And the kids? We have to protect them until they're old enough to protect themselves. That's what this is all about…building this place, preparing to move on…hopefully finding somewhere even better. It's all about taking care of the children and preparing them. Because one day, we won't be around anymore…but all of them? They're all going to have each other…and they're going to have all the lessons that we've all left them with. Daryl…if there's some kind of future to be had in this world, it doesn't belong to us…it belongs to them. And you did the right thing because you're making it safe for them now…and then."

Daryl studied Michonne in the dim light that came flooding out of the lamp on the coffee table. She stayed in her position, her eyes locked on his, not breaking the stare that he held.

He smiled softly, finally, his lips barely registering the curl.

"I love ya," he said softly.

And Michonne smiled at him. He didn't need to say anything else. The look in his eyes and the sound of the words said everything that he wanted to say in that moment…and she heard it, loud and clear.

"I love you," she said.

She waited a moment before getting to her feet, making a little more fuss and show over stiff knees than was really necessary just to get a smile out of him.

"How about we take this princess and put her down? Go to bed? There's work to be done tomorrow…" Michonne said.

Daryl nodded his head and Michonne gathered Hope up gently, careful not to really wake her, and let Daryl gain his feet before she passed the girl back to him. As the little girl curled into the safety of his arms, Michonne picked up the lamp and followed him upstairs, relieved to put the day behind them.