AN: This chapter is a little shorter than some of the others, but I cut it where I thought it needed to be cut. I hope I got the feeling that I wanted to get in there. The next chapter will be the last chapter for this story. There will be more on that in the next chapter.

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

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Daryl didn't have any problem understanding why Michonne was upset, but he had to admit that she was doing a pretty good job of hiding it…she was doing much better than some people were at least.

No one really knew what to do the day that Muh had taken her leave of all of them, declaring that they should prepare to celebrate with her, the following day, her death day that she'd looked forward to with such anticipation. She'd disappeared to the house that she shared with Haralee and informed them that Haralee, when it was time would come for them.

Before, when she was making what she called her preparations, she'd taken each of them aside alone, with the exception of Sadie who needed Mark with her to speak with the woman, and she'd had something of a message or parting words for each and everyone one of them…words that no one was sharing with anyone else out of concern that there might be some kind of break in trust if they shared her private message.

Daryl had been surprised that even he got a "message," if it could be called that, from the old woman.

It wasn't so much a message that he couldn't have figured out on his own…and it wasn't so much a message that he wanted to share because it wouldn't have been Earth shattering to anyone if he'd spoken it out loud.

But it had meant something to him.

Because the message that the old woman had left him with was really nothing more than praise. It was praise for what he had done for the community…though he felt he really couldn't take much credit for anything that had been built there. At least, he felt he couldn't take it on his own. Everyone, he figured, had done their part where their part was needed and honestly he couldn't imagine having done without a single one of them, of the ones that remained and the ones gone on, giving what they had to the group.

She praised him on a job well done bringing together the family that he had built…both biological and otherwise. And again, though he felt that he couldn't really take credit for the things that she'd praised him for, the praise had swelled up in his chest and wandered around in there until had almost ached to listen to her talk and to tell him, even though she'd never known him before and never known where he'd come from and how far he felt they'd all come, how proud she was of him for being who he had become.

And she'd told him to continue on, just as he was. She'd told him to remember that an open heart was never a sign of weakness, that instead it was a sign of the greatest strength that anyone could possess. She'd told him to keep the faith in himself and in those around him that had brought them this far and she'd promised him that it would take them the rest of the way along the journeys that they all had to travel.

His message hadn't been one that contained any of the great secrets of the universe, and though it made him curious about what she'd told the others, he wouldn't have given his away to know anything that they knew.

Because his message had given him something that he felt like he needed in the days to come even more than he might have needed some secret potion to change the world around them.

It had given him definite hope for a future…a future for himself, a future for all of his family, and a future for his children to grow into as surely as they were growing into the clothes that he'd once imagined would be far too large for them to ever wear.

And that was worth, to Daryl, more than any magic potion the witchy woman might have mixed up.

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Michonne felt like she was very nearly chewing the inside of her mouth to bits to keep from breaking down in any way. This was Muh's death day and it was supposed to be a glorious day of happiness. It was supposed, as the little old woman had put it, to be a day of celebrating the end of journeys travelled and the happy promise of new beginnings.

Maggie had been the one to choose the resting place for Muh. She'd suggested that they bury the woman with a tree as a headstone, and she'd chosen for her the tree that had been scorched in the fire when their original headquarters had burned down, but that had, somehow, continued to live despite being severely burned on one side. Despite the fact that part of the tree was visibly dead, the other part, when it wasn't cold out like it was now, grew on and away from the burned part of its own self.

Michonne had dug the hole, along with Tyreese, that the woman would be buried in, making sure that it was deep enough and large enough to be a well-fitting final resting place, and then she'd stood, with everyone else, and waited to find out what they were supposed to do.

None of them had ever celebrated a death day before…and even the funerals of the past where people were laid to rest simply because they died, old and ready to move on to whatever they thought awaited them, were a distant memory to them all.

Haralee came out to them, though, looking more pleased than most of them despite the fact that she'd spent the final hours with Muh, and she told them, surprising them all as they took in the almost lyrical sound of her voice made all that more shocking by the fact that she'd been silent so long, her vow of silence obviously lifted with the passing of her mentor, that they should prepare, if nothing else, a pleasant song for Muh…something that would celebrate her life, the end of her journey, and the beginning of her new one.

They should prepare for her, something that would follow her spirit as it made the transition.

And when she'd taken Daryl and Rick with her to retrieve the remains of the tiny old woman, Maggie had made the decision there as well, declaring that "Parting Glass" was, in her opinion, both melancholy enough to express their feelings on losing the woman and happy enough to express the way that she would feel about the day.

Michonne had agreed with the song selection, decided it was secular enough to avoid any misunderstanding of religion since they still weren't sure what the little old woman believed and practiced and now would likely never know, and Maggie had spent the time while they waited, teaching them all the simple lyrics to the tune.

When Daryl had appeared, carrying the woman bound in a sheet, Michonne had been surprised at how much she looked to be no bigger than a child…hardly even as grown as Emma or Haralee…and with what ease Daryl lowered her into the hole on his own, not needing the help of anyone and refusing to accept that which was offered.

And Michonne decided she would never say anything to him about the fact that she was sure that she saw his chin quiver slightly as he crawled up out of the position he'd taken in the hole to make sure that the body was well placed.

Under Haralee's beckoning, the hole was filled in with reverence and then they stood, bunched together, all of them bundled against the cold that had been kind enough, at least, not to freeze the ground on them this morning, and they'd listened while Haralee gave them all something that sounded like a prepared speech…something that sounded like she'd been rehearsing it for some time…to remind them why they were there and that they would all reach, one day, the end of their current roads and they would direct their feet down the way of a new path.

And that if they had travelled well, the memory of who they were along this journey would remain, as fleeting and temporary as everything else, in the hearts of those that they had loved, and those from which they had earned love.

Haralee's speech done, Maggie started the song and everyone sang as much as they could…here and there in bursts and out of tune words called out to a spirit that they hoped could hear them…the melody blending with Hope's requests to be picked up, Zeb's chorus of singing words to his own little song to match those around him, Judith's laughter at teasing Paul around Sadie's legs because she wouldn't realize she needed to reach down and stop them, Isaac's fussing over a meal five minutes later than desired…and Michonne thought to herself that there was no need to scold the children for not guarding decorum and the reverence of the moment.

Because maybe the children were the only ones there fully capable of understanding the real feeling that a death day was supposed to hold. Maybe they were the only ones who could fully practice Muh's idea that life was for the living, and it must constantly go forward…while death wasn't the end…an end to be mourned…but rather it was a beginning to be celebrated.

And as they finally finished singing the sweet, short song that Maggie lead them into singing in something of a round, the group broke silently apart, no need for communication, to go about the rest of the day, pretending to have the happiness that Muh would have scolded them for not showing, but all really unable to let go of their own selfish feelings of loss.

And even as she gathered up the children and walked with them toward headquarters, three or four steps behind Carol with Sadie's boots crunching on the ground just behind her, Michonne found the last lines of the song echoing around in her mind as, maybe, the last message that Muh's spirit had to leave to her or any of them…maybe as proof that even if they hadn't done the death day perfectly, they hadn't failed her entirely…

Good night and joy be with you all.