NOTES: This chapter explores life for Michonne after the bridge explosion and Rick's disappearance. This one is a bit longer than the last. Enjoy!
The exhaustion was expected.
She had not slept in weeks—six weeks to exact. The walls of her bedroom - their bedroom seemed to close in on her at night. The suffocating presence of grief and despair hung from the ceiling and crept beneath the covers beside her. Most nights, she sought solace beside Judith in the small twin-size bed the young child slept in.
Laying there, unable to sleep, Michonne would stroke Judith's soft cheek and tousled hair in the dim hours before dawn. The warmth of her daughter's presence against her chest brought a fragile sense of stability and comfort. It kept her centered; steady amidst the tumultuous waves of despair crashing inside of her.
Michonne would often hold her baby girl so tight that Judith would eventually squeeze out a soft, "Mama, too tight," her innocent voice breaking through the silence. But Michonne did not know how to loosen her grip- how to let go. Judith was the anchor that kept her from drifting too far into the depths of grief. God forbid anything ever happened to Judith. So yes, the exhaustion was expected.
The nausea was a surprise.
It came in waves, usually when she'd least expect it. The sickness intensified at the most inconvenient time, disrupting her mornings and unsettling her evenings. Initially, she excused her growing inability to keep much of anything down and the sudden change in her appetite as the result of carrying around a constant knot of worry and grief in her stomach, simply dismissing it as stress manifesting physically.
Since the explosion at the bridge and Rick's disappearance, Michonne had been navigating a relentless storm of stress. These days, she spent more time outside the walls of Alexandria, searching, looking for a hint. A sign - anything that would give her hope among the distant moans of walkers. The sudden loss of Rick had left an ache in her heart that served as an unwelcome reminder of the toll this emotional turmoil was taking on her physical well-being.
The days were beginning to blur together for Michonne. Each morning, she would reluctantly pull herself away from Judith to begin her ceaseless search for the man she so desperately missed. Each day of searching had yielded nothing but exhaustion and heartache; there wasn't a trace of him, but she couldn't shake away the feeling of knowing he was still out there somewhere, believing he was still alive and needing her, missing her, missing Judith.
She couldn't abandon her search. Even when forced to pause, steadying herself against a tree and gagging against the bitter taste rising in her throat, she continued on. She ignored her sudden sensitivity to smells that had heightened to an unbearable degree. "Just stress."
Or was it?
Six weeks suddenly turned into seven, and nearly eight weeks passed with a haze of uncertainty and silent anguish, before Michonne stood in front of the bathroom mirror one morning and acknowledged the image of the woman staring back at her. Pale and lacking her usual warmth, deep shadows circled her eyes, highlighting the weight of her current reality. "Just stress," she muttered to her reflection, forcing a small, encouraging smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
Her fingers absently tightened the sash of her robe. As she adjusted the fabric around her waist, her eyes drifted back to her reflection, where the softness of the robe against her belly caught her attention. Could it be...? Her heart began to beat fast, her breathing quickened, and each inhale felt shallow and inadequate. Her hands trembled slightly as she quickly opened her robe to reveal her bare stomach. Her mind began to race with thoughts of uncertainty. Her hand hesitatingly hovered over her abdomen, a silent question rising that she wasn't ready to voice.
"No," she expressed to herself. Trembling fingers lightly traced the soft, gentle bends of her belly. Disbelief, wonder, and a quiet acknowledgment of the exhaustion and persistent nausea that had plagued her for weeks fell over her. It suddenly made sense—these symptoms weren't just random bouts of sickness or stress manifesting physically. They were the quiet whispers of new life growing inside her.
Fuck. The realization hit Michonne like a shattering wave, washing away all semblance of calm. Not without Rick. Not without Rick. Not without Rick.
Her mind raced in frantic circles, grasping at straws of disbelief, denial, and desperate hope. To build for the future. Swiftly dressing and entrusting Judith to a neighbor's care, her feet carry her almost involuntarily towards the infirmary to seek out Siddiq, her heart pounding with the need for confirmation. For the future.
Her pace slowed once she approached the infirmary, and she found herself lingering outside the door for several moments, her fingers tracing the wood grain before she finally gathered the courage to enter.
"M-Michonne," Siddiq greeted her gently, "How are you?" He looked up from a stack of papers he held, concern etched on his face as he noticed the urgency on hers.
Michonne crossed the room to meet him, her eyes filled with uncertainty. "I've been feeling... different," she began hesitantly, her voice catching slightly as she searched for the right words.
"Different?" Siddiq inquired.
"I've been exhausted..." she admitted in a rush, her eyes searching his for understanding. "For weeks now an–"
"Well, Michonne, considering all that you've been through these last few weeks, that's to be expecte-"
"And nauseous." They share a glance, the silence hanging heavy between them and she adds, "I can barely keep anything down. I...I thought it was stress - considering all that I've been through these last few weeks. The exhaustion, throwing up, how god-awful everything smells, but I realize...that I haven't had a peri-" Her voice finally trails off as the weight of her words sit with her. Michonne inhales deeply, her eyes briefly closing shut, only opening with her exhale. "I've been feeling..different."
One of Siddiq's eyebrows lifts and falls. "O-oh, umm." His expression shifts from concern to understanding, a gentle smile spreading across his face. "Okay," he said softly, his voice warm with reassurance. "Have a seat, and let's get you checked out."
Siddiq attempted to engage Michonne in small talk, asking about Judith and detailing his recent trips to the other surrounding communities. Michonne contributed very little to the conversation as he completed a thorough physical exam and ran a few tests.
Minutes stretched into eternity while she waited for Siddiq to finish everything he needed to do. When he left the room, promising to return soon with an answer, thoughts of Rick flooded her mind—his smile, his laughter, his touch, his strength, and their plans for the future. She longed for him to be beside her, holding her hand through this moment. "I miss you so, so much, Rick," she whispered, the unfairness of it all weighing heavy on her heart.
When Siddiq finally returned, he confirmed what she had already accepted in her heart to be true. But to hear those words— "You're pregnant"—out loud nearly knocked the air from her lungs; it shook her to her core. She stared at him, trying to comprehend the weight of his words. Pregnant. With Rick's baby. A whirlwind of emotions surged through her—hope, fear, confusion. How could this be happening now when Rick was gone?
Siddiq gave her a moment to process, a moment to catch her breath. With a comforting hand on her shoulder, he softly spoke, "Sometimes, miracles happen in the midst of tragedy."
A miracle. Their baby—Rick's baby—was a miracle. A part of Rick was growing inside her. She was carrying a piece of their love, their commitment to building a future together. Suddenly, she felt Rick's presence beside her. She imagined the embrace he would pull her into as news of this new journey settled in.
"A part of Rick.." she choked out, her voice caught between a mix of joy and sorrow. "But how can I do this without him?" She's speaking more to herself than Siddiq, but he still takes her hand and reminds her, "You're not alone, Michonne. We - Alexandria, the Hilltop, everyone- are here for you. Rick would want you to embrace this blessing."
The tears that welled in Michonne's eyes began to trickle down, and Siddiq offered her a tissue. "It may be a bit early, but would you like me to do an ultrasound?"
Her silent nod led them back to the exam table, and Siddiq walked her through every step of the ultrasound process. "There's your baby, Michonne," he said, pointing to the screen.
Tears continued to well up in her eyes as she stared at the screen, overwhelmed by the profound realization that life was indeed growing inside her. She was still trying to absorb the magnitude of the news. Pregnant. Rick's baby. The man she loved so deeply, who had suddenly been taken from her, will live on through their child.
Michonne's eyes peered down at her belly, her fingers trembling as she absorbed the sight before her. "Rick," she whispered softly, her voice filled with both sadness and hope. "We made this..."
After what felt like both an eternity and an instant, the ultrasound was complete. Michonne wiped away her tears, feeling a mixture of gratitude and sorrow. She thanked Siddiq, her voice choked with emotion, for guiding her through this moment.
Rick's presence filled her heart as she left the infirmary. A flicker of hope began to burn inside of her. Maybe she could do this. She imagined herself in Rick's embrace, and for the first time in many weeks, a genuine smile spread across her face. In that moment, surrounded by uncertainty and fear, she found solace in his sudden presence in her heart. Whatever challenges lay ahead, she knew that their love would give her the strength to face them, for their love and resilience were stronger than any obstacle life could throw their way.
"A baby." Michonne exhales.