AN: Scroll to the bottom for Trigger Warnings: If you read the comics or watched the show you have an idea of what's about to happen.
- Woodbury: Governor's Apartment—-
As Michonne approached the Governor's quarters, a gnawing feeling tugged at her gut, a mixture of dread and resignation. Part of her held onto a glimmer of hope, hoping against hope that Andrea wouldn't succumb to the Governor's manipulative charms the moment Michonne was out of the picture. Yet, deep down, she knew better. Andrea was a creature of comfort, and the Governor offered her that in abundance.
Entering the Governor's apartment, Michonne was met with a scene that tore at her heartstrings. Amidst the familiar surroundings, she saw children's toys scattered haphazardly. Andre's cherished possessions lay strewn about—the toy car he loved, the walkie-talkie adorned with a dinosaur sticker, and his tiny sweater.
With trembling hands, Michonne picked up Andre's sweater, bringing it close to her face. She inhaled deeply, the familiar scent of her baby flooding her senses, momentarily grounding her in the midst of chaos. Hastily, she gathered Andre's belongings, packing them into bags and placing them by the door, her mind already racing ahead to the inevitable confrontation that loomed on the horizon.
She knew that once the storm unleashed by Rick's group searching for Glenn descended upon this place, Andrea would likely seek refuge here, bringing Andre along with her and then they'd be able to make a quick escape.
She doubled back into the office attached to his bedroom and waited, sitting in a chair with her katana across her lap. The display tanks filled with walker heads did nothing to distract her. If the Governor came back before Andrea, he was going to die tonight and Michonne would expose him for the monster he was.
As Michonne sat vigilantly in the office, her senses on high alert, a sound caught her attention—a faint rattling emanating from the closet door. Her heart leaped with hope, imagining it could be Andre, perhaps bound and hidden away by the Governor. Panic surged through her veins as she rushed to the door, her hands shaking as she fumbled to break the lock.
"It's okay. Mommy is here," she wasn't sure if she was soothing Andre or herself.
Just as she managed to break the lock, a voice cut through the silence, freezing her in her tracks.
"Why am I not surprised? Intruders manage to break into Woodbury, and here you are, skulking around in my quarters," he remarked, his tone smooth and laced with a hint of amusement. His gaze lingered on the katana in her hand, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Planning to do away with me, are you?"
Michonne held his gaze, her expression unreadable as she tightened her grip on the katana. "Is Andre in there?" she demanded, nodding towards the closed door she had been attempting to open.
The Governor's smile faltered for a moment, replaced by a look of concern. "There's no one in there who would matter to you," he retorted dismissively.
"I don't believe you," she shot back.
He raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Why would I keep your boy locked up alone in a dark closet? He's a good kid. I wouldn't do that to him."
As the Governor closed the distance between them, Michonne instinctively retreated, feeling the hard surface of the door pressing into her back. A flicker of alarm crossed her features as she realized her limited options in the confined space.
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as the Governor's gaze swept over her, lingering on her injured leg. The hint of a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, a cruel satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as he took notice of her limp.
Michonne gritted her teeth, refusing to let him see the extent of her pain. Despite the throbbing ache in her leg, she squared her shoulders and met his gaze with a defiant stare, determined not to show any sign of weakness in his presence.
"You know," he continued, his tone dripping with false charm as he surveyed her, "I was hoping you would come back. You're a woman that's hard to forget."
Michonne eyes remained trained on his.
"I was... blinded by your strength and passion," The Governor admitted, a hint of admiration underlying his words. "I said it before, you're quite impressive," he chuckled.
Michonne's lip twitched with anger, "Flattery won't save you."
The Governor's smile faltered slightly, but he quickly regained his composure, his eyes narrowing with a predatory gleam. "Feisty as ever, I see," he remarked, taking a step closer to her. "I admire that."
Michonne bristled at his proximity, her muscles coiling with tension as she prepared to defend herself if necessary.
"What do you want?" she demanded.
The Governor's gaze softened for a moment as he met her challenge, a fleeting flicker of vulnerability crossing his features before he composed himself once more. "You know, these past few days with Andre have been great," he admitted, his voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia. "It made me miss the things I took for granted with my own daughter. She's too sick now for me to do too much of anything with, but Andre, well, he's shown me what it would be like to have a son."
Michonne's grip on her katana tightened at the mention of Andre.
"I don't care about your twisted fantasies," she spat, her voice laced with contempt. "Leave Andre out of this. He has nothing to do with your sick games."
The Governor's smirk widened into a smile as he stepped even closer, invading Michonne's personal space. "Oh, but he does," he countered, his voice oozing with mock sincerity. "After all, you're the one who brought him into this."
Michonne's brows furrowed in confusion as she raised her katana to his neck.
"I didn't bring him into anything," she shot back. "You kidnapped us, dragged us into this fucked up town."
"Now, now, let's not resort to violence, shall we?" he replied, being mindful of the blade against his neck. "After all, we're all civilized people here."
Michonne's grip on her katana tightened even further, the cold steel pressing against The Governor's skin as she held it steady. "Don't play games with me," she growled, her voice low and dangerous. "You know exactly what you've done."
The Governor's facade of charm slipped away completely, replaced by a look of pure malice as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against Michonne's face. "And what if I do?" he whispered, a cruel glint in his eyes. "What are you going to do about it?"
Michonne's jaw clenched as she fought to keep her emotions in check, the urge to strike out at The Governor almost overwhelming. But she knew that giving in to her anger would only play into his hands.
"I'll do whatever it takes to protect my son," she declared, her voice firm and unwavering.
"You have a choice to make, Michonne," he stated, his tone chillingly calm. His eyes momentarily flickered down to her lips before returning to meet hers with a piercing intensity. "Andre is mine now. He belongs to me. If you still want to be his mother, prove it."
Michonne tilted her head in confusion, trying to wrap her mind around what he was saying.
"I know Andrea wouldn't mind filling the role of dutiful mother," The Governor added. "It only took a few days and she was running to warm my bed but I am willing to put all that aside. All you have to do is submit to me. I know you're capable of it. "
A shiver ran down Michonne's spine as the full realization of The Governor's words dawned on her. Shocked by his words, Michonne lowered her sword a bit, and in an instant The Governor surged forward, capturing her lips and yanking her katana from her hands before tossing it nearby.
Michonne cried out in surprise and struggled against him, trying to pull away from his kiss, but his grip on her was too strong. His mouth was rough and demanding, and she could taste the coppery tang of blood on his tongue.
He slammed her head against the closet door a few times, stunning her long enough to turn her around and restrain her hands behind her back with a vice-like grip. Pinned against the door, Michonne felt the full weight of The Governor's body pressing into her, his arousal evident against her. Panic surged through her veins as she struggled against his relentless grip, her mind racing for a way out of this nightmare.
"I'll give you a choice, Michonne," he hissed into her ear, his breath hot and toxic against her skin. His hand snaked around her, fingers digging into her flesh with a painful grip as he groped her, sending waves of anguish shooting through her body.
"Option one," he continued, his voice dripping with malice as his hand slid beneath her shirt, tracing a path of terror along her skin. "You submit to me now, and I'll allow you to raise Andre. Or option two, I take him, and you die. Your call."
Michonne shuddered in disgust as the full impact of his words sank in, her heart hammering in her chest. With every ounce of strength she had left, Michonne threw her head back, colliding with his skull with a sickening thud.
The Governor groaned in pain, his grip on her loosening enough for her to escape his grasp and lunge for her sword but he caught her before she could reach it and shoved her into the display case of walker heads. Michonne gripped the case as he tossed her to the ground, walker heads snapped at her as she tried to pull away from him but he was relentless in his attack. He pulled at anything he could get his hands on. Her hair, her shirt, the very air in her lungs. He tore them from her body until she lay exposed and vulnerable, a sight that he was clearly enjoying.
His hand came down across her face with a vicious blow, stunning her and sending her reeling. She gasped in pain, blood filling her mouth as the metallic taste mingled with her tears.
"I was hoping it wouldn't come to this," he said, his voice low and dangerous. He reached out and grabbed her by the hair, dragging her across the floor towards the bed. Michonne grabbed a piece of broken glass from the display case and stabbed him in the leg.
He howled in pain and rage, kicking her in the side before attempting to grab her again, but she managed to escape his grasp. Glass still in hand, she stabbed him in the eye and ran as fast as she could on an injured leg. She picked up her katana and ran for the door that she heard the noise coming from earlier before yanking it open, fully expecting to see Andre. She was surprised to see that it wasn't her son in the closet but a young girl. Her face was pale and filled with decay. She was the dead reanimated.
"No!" the Governor cried when Michonne went to cut down the girl reflexively. "Please don't hurt my daughter. She's all I have left."
A deep rage course through Michonne. "Your daughter?"
He nodded, worry etched across his features. "Please," he pleaded, his voice trembling with fear. "Don't kill her. She's all I have left."
"Where is my son?" Michonne demanded, her voice cold.
"I don't know. Please, don't hurt my baby girl," he implored, his words tinged with frantic desperation as he pleaded for mercy.
But Michonne's heart was hardened by the atrocities he committed against her, the depths of depravity to which the Governor was willing to sink. With a steely resolve, she raised her katana high. In one swift, merciless stroke, she brought the blade down with all the force of her fury she could muster, severing the Governor's daughter from her twisted existence in a brutal display of finality.
His agonized scream echoed through the room, filling the air with the sounds of his anguish as he lunged at her. Michonne kicked him in his injured leg, causing him to stumble and fall to the ground with a pained cry. She stood over him and raised her katana to end this nightmare of a man.
"Michonne!" someone screamed, causing Michonne to turn abruptly.
It was Andrea, gun in hand, her eyes ablaze with intensity. "What are you doing?" she demanded, her voice sharp with urgency.
Michonne attempted to respond, but her words caught in her throat. Adrenaline surged through her veins, and her emotions threatened to engulf her in a whirlwind of confusion and turmoil. Her breaths came out in short, ragged bursts as she struggled to regain her composure, her gaze darting between Andrea and the writhing figure of the Governor on the floor.
"I…He…He tried to—" Michonne managed to choke out, her voice strained with emotion. "He deserves this."
Andrea's gaze darted to the Governor writhing in agony on the floor, a glass shard lodged in his eye. Slowly, she began to inch forward, but her movement halted abruptly as Michonne, visibly shaken, leveled her katana in her direction, the threat unmistakable.
"Where is Andre?" Michonne demanded. "Where is my son?!"
Andrea's gaze pierced Michonne like a knife, her eyes filled with a mixture of disbelief and betrayal. "What have you done?" she whispered, her voice carrying a weight of accusation.
Michonne felt a sharp pang of hurt deep within her chest as she met Andrea's gaze. It wasn't the anger in her voice that stung the most, but the way Andrea looked at her—as if she were a stranger, as if the bond they once shared had been severed because of this piece of scum.
Tears threatened to well up in Michonne's eyes, but she fought to keep them at bay, unwilling to let her emotions get the best of her. Instead, she squared her shoulders and met Andrea's gaze head-on, her expression a mask of stoicism hiding the turmoil raging within. "What needed to be done," she replied, her voice steady despite the ache in her heart. "Where is my son?"
"In the living room," She answered, gun still trained on Michonne. "Go."
Without another word, Michonne retrieved her tattered shirt from the floor and made her way past Andrea. Once outside the office, the Governor's wails of pain grew distant, fading into the background as Michonne focused on the task ahead. She hastily donned her shirt and strapped her katana to her back, her movements swift and purposeful despite the bruises and cuts that adorned her skin. There was little she could do to conceal the evidence of the struggle, but she refused to let her appearance deter her from finding her son.
"Peanut?" she called out as she entered the living room, her voice a mixture of relief and urgency. And there he was, her heart swelling with love and relief at the sight of her son.
His confusion melted away in an instant, replaced by a radiant smile as he looked up at her. With a joyful cry of "Mommy!" he dashed towards her, his arms outstretched in a desperate embrace.
As she lifted him into her arms, Michonne felt a rush of overwhelming emotion wash over her, tears streaming down her cheeks as she held him close. "My baby," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion, as she buried her face in his hair, breathing in his familiar scent, this time directly from the source. "I missed you so much, Peanut."
Andre wrapped his small arms around Michonne's neck, clinging to her tightly. "I missed you too, Mommy," he said, his voice muffled against her shoulder.
Michonne held him close, savoring the moment, but she knew they couldn't stay here. The danger still lurked, and they needed to get out of Woodbury as quickly as possible. With a heavy heart, she gently set Andre down and wiped away her tears, steeling herself for what lay ahead.
"Come on, Peanut," she said, her voice firm but gentle. "We have to go."
She scooped up the bags she had packed earlier, slinging one on her back and another across her body before she picked up Andre once more.
Outside, the chaos of Woodbury seemed to have intensified, the sounds of shouting and gunfire echoing through the streets. Michonne tightened her grip on Andre's hand, her senses on high alert as she scanned the area for any sign of danger.
"We need to find Rick," she murmured to herself
.,.,..,.,.,.,.,.,..,.,.,.
TW: Graphic depictions of attempted sexual assault
Upcoming: Michonne, Rick and crew reunite under heated circumstances and new survivors make it to the prison.
AN: This was an emotionally intense chapter to write. I hope everyone is ok after reading.