====== Prison: Cell Block C ======

As Michonne ran her fingers through Andre's hair, her gaze never strayed from his peaceful face as he slept. He hadn't been feeling well the past few days, and she had spent all of the previous night sitting by him. He didn't have a fever and the sniffles were gone, but the fatigue was still present. It was as if his body was taking its time recovering. He was a tough boy though. The toughest. He was strong, and he would get better.

She pressed a kiss to his temple and whispered, "I love you."

His eyelashes fluttered, but he didn't wake up. She pulled his blanket up to his shoulders and tucked him in before stepping away. As she walked toward the door, her eyes caught a glimpse of a figure standing in the doorway. It was Rick, his expression a mixture of concern and weariness. Despite occasional glimpses of normalcy between them, moments of cordiality, or even fleeting friendliness, Michonne couldn't ignore the vast ocean of secrets that lay between them. And in the quiet of the room, she couldn't place blame on anyone but herself for the distance that had grown.

"Is he okay?" he asked.

"He's fine."

"How about you?"

Michonne turned to face him fully. She studied him a moment, his unshaven face and the way he leaned against the doorway with his hands tucked in his pockets. She didn't know what it was about him, but it felt like she had been away from him forever, even though it had only been a few days since their run. His eyes, though, were still the same, and it was there she found the answer.

"I'm not."

Rick nodded. "Me neither."

She crossed the room and stepped into the hall, shutting the makeshift curtain behind her. When she turned back around, Rick was watching her with an intensity that made her skin tingle. "You want to talk about it?"

"What's to talk about?" she asked.

Michonne felt the weight of Rick's gaze. She couldn't deny the urge to bridge the gap between them, to unravel the knots of misunderstanding that had woven themselves into this echo of their relationship. Yet, a part of her hesitated, knowing that delving into the depths of their emotions would only complicate matters further.

"There's a lot," Rick said softly.

She sighed. "I know."

They stood in silence for a moment, the air thick with unspoken words and lingering regrets. Michonne could feel the ache of their fractured bond, a chasm that seemed impossible to bridge.

Finally, Rick spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry for how I've been acting, Michonne. I haven't been myself lately."

"I know."

He let out a deep sigh. "I'm just tired, you know? It's been hard these past few weeks-months really."

"I know."

A small, tired smile appeared on Rick's face. "You've always been a woman of few words, Michonne."

"I know." She allowed herself a brief smile before adding, "And you've always been a man of many. When you want to be."

Rick chuckled and his mind drifted to some other place for a moment before his eyes refocused on her. "I guess you're right."

She nodded. "I am."

Another silence descended upon them, this one slightly less uncomfortable than the last. But even in the quiet, Michonne could sense the tension between them, an invisible force pulling them closer together. She could see it in the way he looked at her, the way his eyes followed her every move. And despite the turmoil of their relationship, she couldn't help but be drawn to him.

"So," she said, breaking the silence. "Are we good?"

Rick nodded, a look of determination flashing across his features. "We're good."

"Good."

"Good," he repeated, his eyes searching.

Michonne held his gaze for a long moment, the air between them charged with the electricity.

"Good," she repeated softly, the word barely audible.

They stood like that for what seemed like an eternity, neither moving nor willing to break the connection between them. Finally, Michonne broke eye contact when she heard something fall over in her room.

"I should get going." She made to move to pass him, but Rick's hand reached out and gently grasped her arm, stopping her in her tracks.

"Michonne," he said, his voice soft yet firm.

She looked at him, her heart hammering in her chest. "Yeah?"

"We'll talk. Soon."

"Okay."

Rick nodded and released her, his fingertips grazing her skin. Michonne swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry.

"Good," he said.

"Good."

"I mean it."

She gave him a small smile. "I know."

As Michonne turned away, she felt Rick's gaze on her, the weight of it pressing into her back. She quickly slipped past the curtains that separated her cell from the rest of the prison and released a long shuttering breath. Her body trembled, a mix of exhaustion. nervousness and anticipation coursing through her veins. She picked up the toy car Andre knocked over in his sleep and placed it in the hamper they were using as a toy bin.

"It's going to be alright," she whispered to herself.

As she sat on the edge of her bed, she could still feel Rick's eyes on her, the warmth of his touch lingering on her skin.

"You can tell him," she said quietly, reassuring herself.

"Everything will be okay."

She didn't believe it.

====== Prison: Armory ======

Rick entered the prison's armory with Glenn and Daryl behind him. It's been nearly a week since they expected the Governor to make his move and things have been silent. Merle's words still echoed in Rick's mind, reminding him that the man would not hesitate to attack. He walked up to the elder Dixon who was still locked in the cell.

"Why hasn't he attacked yet? You said he was impulsive, vindictive, but I haven't seen or heard a damn thing since the night we infiltrated Woodbury."

Merle's eyes narrowed as he watched Rick and his group.

"He's a crazy son of a bitch. But he's not stupid. He's prob'ly just waitin' for the right time to strike."

Rick's brow furrowed.

"What's the right time? We've doubled our guard. We've reinforced the fences. What else is there to do?"

Merle shook his head.

"I don't know, but I guarantee you, he's plannin' somethin'. You'd better be ready when it comes. Or you could bring the fight to him. Surprise him, maybe."

Rick's been thinking about doing just that. The Governor had more men and heavy firepower at his disposal. If they were going to stand a chance, they needed to catch him off-guard. But if they were going to attack, they would need to make it count and take him out fast before anyone would notice.

"What are the protocols in place if Woodbury is attacked? Where is he usually after curfew?"

Merle snorted.

"Protocols? They ain't got no protocols. No one's ever breached the walls of Woodbury...except you. They probably got all kinds of protocols in place now though, thanks to you. As for where the Governor spends his nights, well, probably putting wood to Andrea. He likes her close."

Glenn grimaced. "Thanks for that mental image."

Daryl rolled his eyes.

Merle's eyes flicked between the men, a sly grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Y'all got two choices: stumble around in the dark like a bunch of blind bats, or you could have someone on the inside spillin' all the beans straight into your laps. It's up to you, but I reckon I know which one's gonna keep you breathin' longer."

The only three people he knew with connections to Woodbury were Andrea, Merle and Michonne but none of them were good choices for undercover work. He didn't trust Andrea, she's proven her loyalties when she refused to come to the prison. There was no way he would risk Michonne's life and Merle was untrustworthy, plain and simple.

"No, thanks. We'll take our chances."

"Well, if that don't float your boat, you could always hand him the baby mama or the boy. He ain't likely to off the kid, he's oddly affectionate with him. But my nubian queen? She'd probably endure a heap of hurt before he decides to put her down for good."

Rick's jaw clenched. He didn't realize it, but his hand had balled up into a fist. He wasn't going to let anything happen to Michonne or her son.

"Fuck you," he spat, his anger boiling over.

He slammed the cell door shut, rattling the bars and leaving Merle laughing in his wake.

"I'm just sayin', Officer Friendly, the Governor's got a soft spot for that lady of yours. A real tender one."

Glenn and Daryl exchanged a worried look as they followed Rick out of the armory.

Merle's gaze fell to the ground and he chuckled softly, the sound low and dangerous.

"Well, if you change your mind, I'll be here."

Rick exited the armory only to collide with the newest addition to the group, Allen. Towering over him with an air of nervous energy, Allen's demeanor seemed tinged with an unmistakable sense of desperation. Rick couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Allen and his son Ben's uneasy glances than met the eye. With just a week remaining in their probationary period, Rick grappled with the impending decision, knowing all too well that it might result in losing valuable members like Tyrese and Sasha.

"What are you doing here, Allen. Shouldn't you on the tower with Carol and Maggie?" His tone was harsher than he intended.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry. I'm on my way there. Just got lost for a second."

"Well, try not to get lost again."

Allen nodded and hurried away. Rick watched him go, a frown creasing his brow. He turned and continued walking towards the yard, but Glenn's hand on his arm stopped him.

"Are you sure we can trust those two?" Glenn asked as if reading Rick's mind.

"No. But that's what the next week is for. Maybe we can convince Tyrese and Sasha to stay and get rid of the other two. Otherwise, they'll all need to go. We can't have people here that we can't trust. " He looked back at Merle who was looking at the floor of his cell. "We already had one of those. And we can't keep them all in a cell."

Rick strolled into the prison yard to find Carl engrossed in a comic book, while Hershel and Tyrese engaged in conversation, their gaze fixed on the fortified expanse beyond. Rick couldn't help but feel fortunate; the dual perimeter fences surrounding the compound made this section of the prison significantly safer than most other locations they could have found.

"Rick, you gotta see this," Tyrese exclaimed. "It's pretty impressive."

"I'm not surprised. Maggie and Hershel were the ones who came up with the plan for the farm." Rick walked over to the fence next to Tyrese and Hershel. "I'm just glad we're able to make it work. Should look like something special within the next few months."

"It'll help with food scarcity," Hershel clapped Tyrese on the shoulder and looked at Rick excitedly. "Tyrese here has some background in construction. He'll be able to help us with expanding if need be. At least building a barn."

"I worked in construction for a few summers in high school. I mainly played football," he said humbly.

"Well, it looks like your skills will come in handy. We'll be glad to have you, Tyrese."

Rick could tell that the compliment meant a lot to Tyrese. He had been struggling with adjusting to their way of life, but he was starting to fit in. Rick couldn't help but hope that his sister, Sasha, would do the same.

"Hey, Dad." Carl interrupted his thoughts. "Do you know if Michonne is coming to the bonfire tonight?"

To alleviate some of the jitters around the impending attack from the Governor, Carol suggested everyone come together for a bonfire reminiscent of the early days when they first arrived at the prison.

"Yeah, I think she will. Why?"

"No reason. Just wanted to know."

Carl shrugged nonchalantly, but Rick knew his son well enough to recognize his excitement. With Michonne focused on Andre, she and Carl hadn't had a chance to make good on their plans for a comic book club. Rick wasn't sure about the particulars. However, he couldn't deny the fact that his son's fondness for Michonne and vice versa was a positive thing.

"How's Andre doing? We haven't got a chance to talk yet.

"He's still tired, but I think he's feeling better."

"That's good." Carl paused a moment. "Hey, Dad?"

"Yeah, bud?"

"Is everything okay with you and Michonne? It seems like you guys are kind of...weird around each other lately."

Rick's eyebrows rose.

"Oh, um, yeah. We're fine. Just tired."

"Okay." Carl didn't seem convinced.

"I'm fine, Carl. Don't worry about me."

Carl nodded, and Rick went on to patrol the inner perimeter. It wasn't until he was half way around the prison that he realized he didn't see Lori's ghost today.

======= Prison: Cellblock C ======

The gentle tapping of the cell door pulled Michonne from her reverie, and she looked up to see Carol standing there, holding a plate of food, looking at Andre with a sweet smile on her face.

"I wasn't sure if you were coming to the bonfire with Andre not feeling well, so I thought I'd bring you both your dinner," Carol explained softly, her eyes warm with sympathy.

"Thank you, Carol," Michonne replied, her voice soft but appreciative, as she reached out to accept the plate from Carol's outstretched hand. With gentle care, she balanced it atop her backpack, creating a makeshift nightstand of sorts for their humble meal.

Carol's gaze drifted to Andre's sleeping form, a tender smile gracing her lips. "He's such a handsome boy," she remarked, her voice filled with genuine affection. "I remember when my Sophia was that age. All she ever seemed to do was have me worried, eat, and sleep."

Michonne chuckled softly, a flicker of warmth in her eyes. "How old is she now?"

"She would've been eleven this winter," Carol replied.

Michonne's expression grew solemn, her words heavy with sympathy. "I'm sorry."

"It was a long time ago," Carol answered. "We lost her, and her daddy. We tried to get her back, but we failed."

"We've all lost someone," Michonne murmured. "But I couldn't imagine…"

"That's why I'm glad you're here," Carol said. "We've seen too much loss lately. We could use some new life in the prison. Andre brings us hope. He and Judith give us all something to fight for. He gives you a reason to live."

Michonne's gaze softened, touched by Carol's words. "Thank you," she said quietly, a faint smile playing at the corners of her lips. "He's my world."

Carol nodded, her eyes reflecting a mix of sorrow and resilience. "We'll do everything we can to keep him safe," she vowed. "Us mothers have to stick together."

"Absolutely," Michonne agreed, her thoughts drifting to Carl and Judith, imagining the void left by their mother's absence. "I only met Lori once before everything changed. She and I had our differences, but I never questioned her love for Carl," she reflected, recalling the day Rick introduced her to Lori as his girlfriend.

The encounter had been amicable enough, but afterward, Lori's demeanor shifted dramatically. Suddenly, she became intensely family-focused, incessantly calling Rick day and night, particularly when she knew he'd be with Michonne, as if marking her territory. And the amount of times she would use Carl as an excuse to get Rick to cancel plans was astounding.

Carol's expression softened, a bittersweet smile tugging at her lips. "She died during childbirth, bringing Judith into this world. Carl was the one who had to put her down after."

"That must have been so hard for him," Michonne replied, her heart swelling

"It was a gut-wrenching blow for all of us," Carol began, her voice tinged with sorrowful reminiscence. "We lost so many before. Amy, Shane, Dale, Jaqui, and then Lori. We spent nearly her entire pregnancy searching for a safe haven, and when we finally found one, she... she didn't make it long after we arrived. Rick hasn't been himself since that day. It's been almost a month, now."

"A month?" Michonne asked dumbfounded. "Wow."

Carol leaned against the cell door with a solemn nod. "Carl's been invaluable. He's really stepped up... well, he's had to grow up fast, seeing things no child should ever have to see."

"He seems like a resilient kid," Michonne remarked.

"He is," Carol confirmed, a hint of pride shining through her words. "He's become a man these last few weeks. He's brave, strong, and fiercely loyal. He's grown close to everyone here, especially his dad."

"Sounds like they have a good bond," Michonne noted.

"Rick loves him more than anything in the world," Carol said softly, her gaze lingering on Andre's peaceful face. "He'd do anything to protect his children. Same as you. Same as any of us."

Michonne nodded in agreement, a quiet understanding passing between them. "Family means everything," she said softly, her gaze drifting back to Andre. "We'll do whatever it takes to keep them safe."

Carol offered a sympathetic smile, her eyes reflecting the shared bond of motherhood. "That's the truth," she replied, her voice filled with conviction. "You should consider having dinner with the rest of us tonight, get to know everyone. It would do you both some good. There'll be music and a bonfire. It's a chance to shake off the nerves everyone has built up about the Governor."

"Thanks, Carol," Michonne answered, looking down at Andre. "If he's feeling well enough, we'll be there."

"Great. I'll grab an extra blanket."

As Michonne watched Carol disappear around the corner, her thoughts wandered back to Rick and the struggles he faced, mirroring her own experiences in some ways. She couldn't help but draw parallels between their journeys, particularly in the aftermath of loss. The revelation about Lori shed new light on the haunted look in Rick's eyes, the distant stares that often lingered there. Losing Lori, coupled with the complexities of their past with Shane, painted a picture of profound grief and inner turmoil.

She couldn't help but chuckle morbidly to herself at the twisted similarities between their stories. Both she and Rick had endured the loss of their closest friend and significant other, navigating the treacherous waters of grief and heartache. However, she couldn't deny that Rick's pain likely ran deeper than her own. While she had lost Mike, her closest friend and companion, Andrea still lived, though now as a stranger to her.

She felt Andre stir next to her, his bright hazel eyes blinking up at her as he slowly awakened. As he sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, she smiled and pulled him close.

"How are you feeling, Peanut?" she asked, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "Feeling any better?"

"A little," he replied, a slight rasp in his voice. "I'm hungry."

Michonne couldn't help but laugh at Carol's observation. Indeed, at Andre's age, life revolved around the simple pleasures of eating, sleeping, and, inevitably, causing their parents to worry. She playfully ruffled his hair, the sound of her laughter echoing softly in the confined space of their cell.

With a gentle smile, Michonne rose to her feet, a sense of warmth and anticipation blooming within her. "We're going outside to have dinner with everyone else," she announced to Andre, her voice filled with quiet excitement. "I want you to meet Carl."

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

Upcoming: Reckoning with ghosts.