Chapter 3.
After he finished catching Andrea up, Rick took Judith to put her down for her nap, leaving her alone to get some rest, but she couldn't make herself fall asleep. Every time she closed her eyes, nightmarish images replayed in her mind's eye like her own private horror movie.
Him, stalking her like a beast of prey. The room. Milton.
She started when a voice broke into her thoughts, but it was only Michonne. "Rick told me you were awake."
Andrea opened her eyes, turning her head to see her friend hovering in the doorway, as if she wasn't sure if she should come any closer.
Pain shot through her skull as she tried to sit up. She grimaced, pressing her forehead to her palm. "I kind of wish I wasn't."
She tried to make it sound like a joke, but it was true. She felt like shit. Not just because of her killer headache, although that wasn't helping. She couldn't stop thinking about what Rick had told her: that that monster was still alive. That one day, he might come back, not just for her and Michonne, but for all of them. Not for the first time, she wished she'd ended it when she had the chance, and a thousand times since. If she'd known then what he was capable of…
Michonne seemed to take that as an invitation to come the rest of the way into the cell, dropping into the chair Rick had occupied. "I need to tell you how sorry I am for how cruel I was to you the last time we saw each other," she said, taking Andrea's free hand in both of hers, careful not to dislodge her IV. "If you had died…" Her voice broke, and she trailed off, too overcome with emotion to finish the thought.
Tears welled in Andrea's eyes too. She had waited so long to hear that Michonne forgave her for what a mess she made of things. "It's okay, Mich," she assured her, squeezing back. "I probably deserved it. And more. I'm just glad everyone here is okay." She wished she could say the same for the 'soldiers' from Woodbury that he massacred. For Milton.
"I'm sorry I didn't leave with you when you asked."
If she had, they could have avoided so much pain. And who knew, maybe they still would have found her old group at the prison, only sooner and together.
Despite the agony it caused her to move, Andrea reached out to hug her friend, comforted when she accepted it, hugging her back. She started to sob and Michonne lost her own battle with her tears and for a moment, they both just held each other and cried.
That evening, after Hershel took her IV out, they moved Andrea down the hall to a cell of her own, where she stayed resting for the next few days. Hershel, Rick, Michonne and Carol took turns sitting with her, but she didn't say much. She showed no real interest in the books from the library they left on the nightstand, or the trays of food they brought her, despite Hershel's insistence that she needed to get her strength up. Rick wasn't even sure she was sleeping – even though she pretended to sometimes to avoid having to talk – because whenever she did seem to fall into a troubled sleep, she woke up screaming.
Mostly, she just stared off into space with what he could only describe as a thousand-yard stare. He couldn't tell if she was depressed or just in some kind of shellshock. Either way, it was like she wasn't really there. Like some part of her had never left Woodbury. He recognised the look from his friends who had seen combat and the victims of violent crimes he'd met on the job. He supposed in a way, after living through her own private war, she was both a warrior and a victim-survivor.
When he brought Judith to check on her on her third morning at the prison, he found her lying on her back on top of the bedsheets, staring up at the bottom of the bunk above her.
There was no physical reason she couldn't get up. He decided it was time she started pushing herself or she never would. "Hershel says you're well enough to start moving around," he told her, even though he knew she knew this already, because he was there when they had that conversation.
She didn't acknowledge him, except to say, "Thanks, but I'm fine here".
He tried again to breach the impenetrable wall she had put up around herself. "Why don't you come down to the cafeteria today, have lunch with us? It'd be good for you to get out of this cell."
She still didn't move, but her eyes slid in his direction. "You don't have to do this, you know."
He feigned ignorance. "Do what?"
"Babysit me. You're as bad as Dale was. Always watching me to make sure I didn't off myself or something."
There was no anger in her words anymore, just sadness. Rick knew she still missed him. They all did. He wished he were here now. He would know what to do, how to reach her. If he was, maybe things would have been different for her. Dale never would have let them leave her behind. He would have taken a car and gone after her himself if he had to.
"If memory serves, you would have if he hadn't," he reminded her.
That got her full attention. "Do you really think I would try to kill myself after everything?" she asked, sitting up.
Rick wasn't sure what she would do. This situation was unprecedented, even for them. "I know you're not yourself. The last time I saw you this shutdown was right after you lost Amy." When she had wanted to kill herself.
"I appreciate your concern, Rick," she told him, even though from the sharp note in her tone, he wasn't sure that she did, "but I'll tell you the same thing I told Dale back then – I'm not your problem. You've got enough of those already."
He was trying to be patient with her, but he could feel himself starting to get annoyed. "So what? You're just gonna hide out in this cell, avoiding everyone for the rest of your life? We might as well have left you locked in that room to die."
He expected her to get fired up at him, but instead, tears sprang in her eyes. "Why not? It's what I deserve. I tried to do it, you know – to cut his throat – but I just…" She closed her eyes, no doubt reliving the memory. "I thought of Dale, begging us to find another way, and I just couldn't do it."
Rick's brows lifted in surprise. He had no idea that was something she'd even considered. She seemed so committed to finding a peaceful solution to the conflict. No doubt, it would've been easier for the rest of them, but he understood why she couldn't go through with it. It wasn't easy, taking a life, especially from someone you cared about.
"So many people died because of me," she finished, opening them again, and he could see the anguish there. "Because I couldn't bring myself to kill a man in cold blood."
Now they were getting somewhere. This was something he was uniquely qualified to deal with.
He sighed, perching on the end of her bunk. "You did what you thought was right at the time. That's all any of us can do."
When she looked at him this time, it was with admiration. "How do you live with it?"
"I don't know. Not well," he admitted. He'd had his fair share of sleepless nights and nightmares. Not to mention the terrifying waking visions that had only just stopped. "But what's the alternative? It'll destroy you if you let it. I nearly let losing Lori destroy me."
Her expression softened and she touched his arm. "I'm so sorry, Rick. I should be the one comforting you."
He couldn't go there again – not now, with so many people depending on him. "I'm not saying that because I want your pity," he told her, brushing off her sympathy. "It wasn't easy, but I've made my peace with it. You need to find a way to do the same."
He stood, preparing to leave. "Just come down and see everyone. Just for an hour or so. You'll feel better, I promise. I did."
She nodded, offering him a weak smile. "Okay." She moved to get up, then hesitated as a troubling thought occurred to her. "They must hate me."
"No one hates you," he assured her. Even if they had at one time, when they first heard she was hooking up with the Governor, she'd been punished enough for her transgressions against them. "We're all just glad you survived. This group has seen too much death already."
Andrea's eyes drifted to the baby in his arms. "But there's been life, too." She glanced back up at him with the first genuine smile he had seen from her since she got back. "She's beautiful, Rick. I never got a chance to tell you that."
He couldn't help but return her smile. "That's all Lori," he agreed. And maybe that was true. He would never know for sure.
It was the most animation he'd seen from her since she woke up. "You wanna hold her?"
She reached out for the baby eagerly. "Can I?"
He transferred his daughter into her arms.
"Hi, Judith," she cooed. She inhaled her scent. "I love the way new babies smell."
Rick was surprised by this new softer, more maternal side of her. "I never would've taken you for a baby person," he admitted.
He'd never known her to embrace domestic duties. She was the polar opposite of Lori in pretty much every way, which he guessed was why the two of them had butted heads so often.
She seemed surprised by his surprise. "Why? Because I never had one myself?"
"Well, yeah," Rick agreed, with a sheepish grin. Maybe that was a simplistic view of things. He was fortunate to have met his wife so young. Not everyone was so lucky.
"I like kids," she assured him. "It just wasn't in the cards for me." She shrugged off her wistfulness at the path not taken, shifting her attention back to his daughter. "But that doesn't mean I can't enjoy spending time with this little one."
She seemed to be drawing comfort from Judith's presence so he let her keep her as they walked down to the cafeteria. He couldn't say he blamed her: no one paid much attention to him when he had the baby either.
The cafeteria was bustling with people. A few Woodburians greeted her as they entered.
Carol was buzzing around with some of the other women, dishing out lunch: tomato soup from one of the giant cans in the pantry, padded out with rice and canned vegetables.
Rick's group was spread out across two tables near the kitchen: Glenn, Maggie, Hershel and Beth at one table, Daryl and Michonne at the other. Rick was pleased to see that Carl was sitting in the corner with a bunch of kids from Woodbury.
To their credit, the group was nothing but welcoming of Andrea.
"You're looking better," Hershel said with a smile when they approached their table. "It's good to finally see you up and about. You had us worried for a while there."
Rick wasn't sure if he meant when she was unconscious, or in the time since then.
"Saved you a seat," Michonne told her, gesturing to the empty spot next to her, and Andrea lit up at the olive branch she was offering.
Rick was glad to see that they seemed to be working through their differences. Andrea could use all the friends she could get right now.
She handed the baby back to him and went to claim the empty chair.
Rick pulled out one next to Daryl, and Carol came over to ladle out some of the soup for each of them.
"Here." She held one out to Andrea. "Put some colour back in your cheeks."
Andrea accepted the bowl from her, but didn't eat. She looked around at the sea of kind faces. "Rick was right. It is nice to get out of that dingy cellblock." She seemed to think better of this, rushing on in case they misunderstood her. "Not that I'm not grateful to be here. Because I am."
She didn't seem to know where she stood with them, whether they saw her as the enemy.
Rick decided to help her out. "You don't have to be grateful. Things got messed up there for a while, but you're one of us."
He knew Dale and Amy would want them to look out for her. And she did stick her neck out to save them, and almost lost her own life in the process. If nothing else, the fact that she was willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for them earned her a place among them.
She relaxed at his words. "Still, thanks." She waved a hand at all the other little groups gathered around the tables. "Not just for saving me and letting me come back, but for taking in all of these good people."
"We've enjoyed having them here," Hershel told her.
Rick had to admit, it was better than huddling together in the empty cellblock, staring at each other.
Hershel gestured to Andrea's untouched bowl. "Now eat up. Build your strength up. Then, if you're not too tired, we could use some help in the garden. With a bit of luck, we'll have fresh tomatoes soon."