Hey! Sorry this took so long but ive been rewriting and rewriting and esitingnitntoo death and maybe that is a bad thing but nothing felt right and i wanted the feeligns to come through that didnt feel forced.
Not sire if I accomplished fhag or made it worse but one can only hope. This was the version I enjoyed the most so here it is!
Thanks to all the intersction this story has gotten and i appreciate you all.
Fear. That's what Michonne felt permeate through her body at those heavy handed knocks.
She turned on her entourage. "Hide" she hissed and Rick moved without much more prompting. Taking large and quick steps toward the closet, he slipped out of view. Judith seemed frozen as she stared at the door, seedlings weren't allowed in their flowers' room so late—they were taught to just observe and serve from the very beginning.
Michonne went to her just as the jangling of keys could be heard beyond the door. "Pretend to sleep" she whispered, running a comforting hand over the young girl's head. Judith went under the covers and Michonne kicked the bags under the bed just as the doors opened.
Her heart pounded. She turned around and looked at the older woman standing before her, nightgown indicating that this was a spontaneous visit and that piqued Michonne's curiosity—Madame Gertie rarely, if ever, did anything unplanned. The older woman caught her gaze and from head to toe she scrutinized in slow perusal that left Michonne feeling tense.
"Madame?" She questioned. She was still standing near the bed but she slowly moved away from it, hoping the older woman didn't take attention to Judith's form.
"If you were awake, why didn't you open the door?" She closed it and walked further in.
"I was doing some nighttime reading, my mind was elsewhere. I'm sorry" she supplied.
"What have I told you about staying up so late? You have many clients to attend to and you need to be fresh" Madame Gertie came closer until she was inches from Michonne who felt it detrimental to move. Weathered hands came up to her face and cupped each cheek, staring, until she moved Michonne's face from side to side.
"You're coming along in age, you need your sleep" she said then ran a hand through the soft locs cascading over Michonne's thin shoulders.
"What is it that you needed?" Michonne tried to stay on track. Once the house mother got to lecturing about keeping up your youth it became never ending and she was in no mood for her self esteem to be picked apart and for all her flaws to be laid bare.
"I couldn't sleep" Madame sighed and dropped her hands, eyes continuing to take in Michonne who felt like prey whenever she was of her sole attention. The older woman brushed past her and went to take a seat on the couch, effectively making Michonne more anxious. She chanced a glance at Judith who was still and curled under her duvet and then flitted her eyes to the closet before landing back on Madame Gertie who had already been watching her. She bristled at those keen eyes and she swallowed deeply.
"Why are you not in your nightwear?" Madame Gertie questioned from where she was perched.
"I realized I had spilled some of the porridge on it and changed, the laundry won't be sent up until early tomorrow morning and this is the simplest dress I had" she said, racking her brain for anything believable.
Madame sighed again, wondering when the meticulous and elegant girl she'd raised had gotten so careless? "Sit" she patted to the spot beside her.
Michonne walked over and sat down gently, cautiously. Once again the older woman took her in quietly and it made for an uncomfortable silence on bated breath. Usually Michonne was prepared for her house mother, whether it was waiting out her slumber to sneak out after dark, her constant hovering and probing, or memorizing her whereabouts so she could secretly meet with Saddiq about new books or to pester him about some sort of medical knowledge. Michonne knew how to work around the house mother better than anyone but this was new; not knowing of her next move.
Before she knew it, Michonne was pressed against her house mothers bosom and the scent of something unmistakably herbal and light invaded her senses. Hands threading through her hair and pressed against her back made her rigid. "You know how much I care and love you right, Mich?" Her voice muffled some by her skin and clothing.
Michonne closed her eyes. Because she didn't know—the letter left by Sasha came to mind suddenly, how she spoke about the man who claimed her, how she felt the excitement and softness through the paper, the relief to finally be free. Recently it had her wondering what all that looked like; felt like. Was caring punishing her for her spontaneity? Was it suffocating her with the burden of being perfect? Was love the way Madame looked at her with a mix of smug satisfaction and distaste? Was love the soft caresses that turned into painful lashes?
Michonne found herself thinking of Judith, her little smile when they spent time together away from everyone, her chiming laughter when Michonne tickled her for being silly and the proud look of accomplishment when Michonne taught her something and she understood it. Nothing beat the warmth she felt at being around her. She cared about what Judith did daily, she cared if she ate, she cared about if she got along with the other seedlings, she admired her gentle nature and her strong wit and sense of self even at this age. She was a miracle baby and Michonne realized she loved her the moment she laid eyes on her.
So no, Madame couldn't have possibly cared and loved her truly and that twisted a knot in her stomach. "Yes" she lied.
Madame nodded as she continued her affections for a moment before pulling back. Michonne sat up and looked at her, in many ways the older woman looked hesitant, contrite, and that added to Michonne's apprehension.
"I have a secret of sorts," Madame said.
Michonne tilted her head slightly in confusion. "What do you mean?"
Madame eyed her, mouth working until it dipped into a barely concealed grimace. "What do you remember of the day you got here?" She asked.
Michonne was taken aback at that. In that moment she felt untethered, unsure and she looked at the woman who raised her, who had long carved deep, irreversible and invisible scars within her. The same love and care she boasted have left her bruised and sullen in ways she wasn't sure she could ever recover.
"Rain. Heavy rain" she said slowly. Her mind tried to think back but it was all fuzzy as if someone had tampered with the tapes. Michonne couldn't properly remember a before, it was odd to think that she hadn't been there her whole life, that it hadn't always been these four walls inside and out and the painstaking work of molding into and being a flower.
"Crying…it was dark, that's all I remember" she opened her eyes again and met Madame's unreadable gaze.
"Your mother gave me you" Madame Gertie stated. Her hand went out to rest on Michonne's knee. "She was adamant that I have you, use you as I see fit as long as I give you a life"
Michonne felt off kilter and her palms dampened. Her mother? There was just a blurry silhouette where she was concerned, someone she couldn't make out but felt this deep ache for; forgotten and stale. She knew she had one, there was that vague knowledge of someone else in her lackluster memories but to conjure a face was impossible. And then there was that unavoidable, creeping feeling of inadequacy and abandonment that followed and Michonne felt her hands tremble where they were clutched in her lap. This was not what she expected, not when she had her out, to be rid of this place where she no longer fit and the woman who she could no longer blindly believe in anymore.
"My mother?" Michonne questioned timidly, uncertain with this information. She prided herself on knowledge but this being dropped on her was intimidating.
Madame Gertie nodded. "She didn't want you it seemed, you kept trying to go back while crying big, fat tears" a weird smile creeped onto her face. "Your tattered dress, too big for your small body and your cute little face all scrunched up in dismay. It was beautiful" her eyes seemed to glaze over.
Michonne looked at her and the trepidation that had flatlined at hearing about the person who gave birth to her, came back ten fold along with a spiral of that dismay swirling in her gut. Those dark eyes searched her face before settling on boring into her and Michonne was loath to let her see her quiver forlornly.
Madame Gertie leaned in. "I've gotten some unexpected news from that woman" she frowned, shaking her head. "But you're mine, I made you"
Michonne winced as the older woman's nails sunk into her flesh sharply. "Show me" Madame demanded. "Show me the beauty of what I nurtured before I lose it even more"
She should've known and in a way she knew it was coming all in one breath, that shift in her eyes and the shadow that passed over her face—all that congeniality gone. Michonne felt stuck as her breaths quickened and the pain on her inner thigh reminded her that she was always at the mercy of this woman no matter how hard she fought. The trembling in her hands became noticeable but she only looked on as the two were practically nose to nose.
The slap was resounding and harsh and snapped her head to the side, her hair falling about wildly. "I said show me!"
Michonne felt the prick of tears and tasted blood on her stinging lip. She raised her eyes and peered at the closet where she detected small movement. Her mind drifted to Rick. He had thanked her for saving him but had that been the right thing? Especially in this moment where he had to witness her pathetic display once again? Then her mind went to Judith who was probably quivering under her covers, scared but wanting to rush to her aid—she knew her seedling well but this was not her burden and could only hope she stayed put. She swiped her tongue along her lower lip but before she could do or say anything, a heavy back hand blindsided her and she grunted, bending to the side; dizzy and ears ringing.
"You think I don't know about every attempt at you trying to get away from me?" She twisted a fistful of Michonne's hair who hissed in pain. Each time it was like someone flipped a switch.
"Me!?" Madame pressed a hand to her chest. "The person who saw your worth when even your mother didn't!? The one that let you survive, let you thrive when that woman threw you away?" She pulled Michonne in close and the young woman groaned softly.
Papery lips violated as they claimed her. Michonne jerked, pushed at the woman, turning away only to be yanked back harshly. Michonne cursed everything; she cursed the woman before her who saw her as nothing but a possession, she cursed the strict diet that made her too weak to thwart this assault and she cursed herself for not finding a way out sooner, for catering to this blasphemous attachment she felt. She growled as she thrashed, twisting this way and that but the house mother was stronger than she looked. She felt trickles of blood from where Madame's nails had broken her skin and then felt that hand slide up her thigh, over her body to grip tightly around her throat.
"You two have some nerve" Madame bit out.
"Stop!" Judith's small voice screamed out from behind her and Michonne's stomach plummeted. Madame Gertie looked up over her shoulder and Michonne used that distraction to extract herself, falling to the floor off balance.
"Don't hurt her!" Judith's voice wavered.
Michonne caught her breath as Madame Gertie slid to her feet, bearing down on her like a nightmare. "For someone who doesn't like when I blemish my skin, you sure like to litter it with many" Michonne grumbled.
"What is your seedling doing here?" Madame Gertie asked, ignoring her disrespect this once.
"She had a nightmare" Michonne lied and turned to see Judith looking at them in horror and worry and Michonne wanted nothing more than to run over and wrap her in her arms. She cursed herself once again for letting her witness that ordeal.
"You know the rules" the older woman addressed them both.
"Leave her" Michonne rose to her feet, swaying slightly. She found her eyes going back to the closet before landing on the woman who wore a blank face.
Madame Gertie chuckled humorlessly. "Your disobedience is becoming tiresome," she said. Her mouth pinched into a frown and her eyes blazed with discontent.
"Fix it" she warned, looming a head taller than Michonne.
Michonne let out a shaky breath. Years of being under those watchful eyes, that whipping tongue and heavy hand had her wanting to acquiesce if only to lessen her punishment, to quicken this up and be over with it. She hated herself for being so malleable under that hard gaze when it got to be too much, never truly sticking with her gut.
"Send her out," Madame Gertie ordered.
Michonne balled her hands into fists. The smart thing to do was to get Judith away from this but she was still hell bent on leaving in spite of everything and she was determined to bring along the one person that meant the world to her.
"No one else will take care of her, if I don't"
"Send. Her. Out" Madame said lowly; clipped.
There was a stretch of silence as the tension sparked like an open current. This recurring game of cat and mouse was also becoming tiresome for her. She had played the mouse for so long; obediently, pitifully and with need but she grew and so did her mind—dependency, it was their foundation. But if she no longer saw this destructive, tainted woman as someone she needed to survive, where did that leave everything else?
Michonne's head pounded with clarity. "No"
Madame Gertie's eyes flashed a deep fury. "Michonne" her voice was measured.
"She is my seedling" Michonne stepped back.
"And you are mine!" Madame Gertie burst, grabbing her face. "You will do as I say, I've let you get away with too much. Don't take your measly leniency and get carried away. I will always own you" her words were a resolute promise.
Michonne's blood rushed noisily in her ears. "You can't own me if I don't need you"
She felt her arm twist dangerously and she shouted in pain. She tried to relieve it by leaning into the motion but it didn't do much. A flash of brown hair came into her peripheral and before Michonne knew it, small hands were pulling at their house mother.
"Stop! Let her go!" Judith pulled and pulled, tears trickling down her cheeks.
"Judy…" Michonne gasped painfully.
"Let go!" The young girl said with conviction and fear.
Madame Gertie chuckled darkly. "I see how you've trained her to disobey me, too"
She let go of Michonne and grabbed Judith who yelled in surprise. Michonne felt dread down to her toes, coursing through every nerve as her little one winced in pain at being manhandled and she detestfully froze.
"For fucking sakes, Michonne, show some gratefulness!" the older woman pressed a hand to her face exasperatingly before staring at the clearly uneasy woman in front her; finally, that infuriating stubbornness cleared.
"I fed you, I clothed you, I gave you a life!" Madame Gertie exclaimed. "I let you keep this one like you asked who was basically at risk of dying every day," she shook Judith like a rag doll, who cried silently and Michonne felt harried anger for the first time.
"Do you remember Mike, Mich?" Gertie looked down her nose at her most beautiful flower and watched with amusement as she visibly recoiled. Michonne felt a cold shiver run down her spine at the mention of that name. She licked her split lip as flashes of a dark basement, her screams and pain; so much pain came rushing to the forefront of her mind. It creeped, stalked, and consumed her.
"Yes, you do" Madame Gertie watched that tall flower wilt before her eyes.
"Who did you risk your life to call? Who saved you after you ran despite how averse I was to the two of you? Who swallowed her pride and begged like a dog to the police to have one of their own cuffed up?" Her stare burned. "Huh!?" Her voice bounced off the walls and Michonne winced because it all played out in her mind over and over.
Michonne's breaths were rattling. She'd tried so hard to bury those memories and now they threatened to undo her all over again.
"Answer me," Madame ordered.
"…You," Michonne said reluctantly.
"Yes, the only person who cares about you enough not to let you be just another pair of legs and breasts" she reached out and Michonne hated that she flinched. The light touch of the house mother told nothing of how she was seething, no, it was all in her eyes.
"You don't need anyone else because it's always just been us, hasn't it?" She coaxed.
"That's not true," Judith exclaimed beside the older woman. "I care about Miss Michonne more than you!" the young girl looked up at the house mother with angry, frightened eyes.
"You don't care about her, you just hit and beat her and say mean—" the child went sprawling with a pained shout.
"Shut up" Madame growled. "Are you trying to make me the villain, Michonne?" She turned back to the young woman.
Without warning Madame Gertie grabbed Judith by the hair and dragged her by. The young girl yelped fearfully and Michonne felt the anger boiling, ramped up to unimaginable heights. "Should I show your seedling what it means to disobey me?"
Michonne panicked then. "No!" She moved, rushed after them. "She didn't do anything!"
"She failed you" Madame stated without looking back.
"Miss Michonne!" Judith wailed and reached out, all the while struggling against the pain. Michonne grabbed Judith's hand to which the young girl clutched so tightly and then moved to stop and pry Madame's hands from her hair.
"I said to stop!" She exclaimed.
"You will learn the consequences. It saddens me that I have to re-teach you" the calmness in her tone made disgust burn so hot in Michonne it felt like it was puncturing her stomach that tears spilled from her eyes.
"Please," she begged. Her eyes met that familiar darkness that took mirth from her misery, the one Madame always tried and failed not to let spill into that wicked smile she wore now.
"Michonne, Michonne, Michonne" she sang. "You're so beautiful. This is what I wanted to see, show me more" she pulled and twisted Judith's hair more harshly and the young girl screamed in pain and Michonne found herself sobbing as she fell to her knees in front of the young girl, their hands still gripped together.
"Let go," Michonne begged. "Just hurt me, she didn't do anything" Judith continued to sob and call for her. "Just hurt me"
"I am" Madame Gertie looked at her meaningfully and felt euphoria and awe at those stunning, tear stained, supple cheeks. Those dewy doe eyes that were begging for her mercy—everything on her face told her that they still needed one another. But then a harsh clack of metal drew everyone's attention.
Michonne's sodden eyes met hardened blue ones and she felt an odd relief at seeing Rick. They were strangers who barely had a proper conversation and yet his sudden presence was so welcomed she almost deflated. She had hoped he had caught on to her meaningful glances even though she hadn't known if he'd help or how, but staring down the daunting barrel of a gun warmed her. She had forgotten that she'd hidden the weapon away in case Rick had been bad news and tried to do something unforgivable. She was glad he had somehow found it within her sea of shoes.
The older woman was visibly caught off guard as she tried to understand this situation, where the man had appeared from and who he was. "Who the hell are you!?" She asked angrily.
"Let the girl go, now" the deep twang sent a spark of comfort through Michonne unexpectedly and she used Madame's momentary distraction to take Judith who collapsed into her arms with deep sobs. The young girl clung to her dress and hid in her chest and Michonne hugged her so close and so tight, she had never been more scared, not even when she was the focus of Madame's wrath. But Judith? She was so special, a light in Michonne's dark tunnel she felt reassured by. She'd repeatedly said that it wasn't Judith's burden what happened between her and the house mother but she unknowingly or knowingly leaned on this young child for comfort when she felt stuck. She was her little one.
"You were hiding a man!?" Madame said incredulously as she glanced at Michonne. "Michonne, you have really lost your goddamn mind!"
Rick advanced slowly, never looking away from Madame Gertie. "Touch them, and I'll shoot" his voice was without feeling.
Michonne heard a huff that turned into a chuckle and then full blown laughter that sounded almost hysterical. Madame Gertie bent at the waist and clutched her stomach before she took a deep breath to compose herself and trained a steady eye on Rick. The two stared at each other and Michonne could touch the tension as she pulled her and Judith to their feet. She looked at the girl who hadn't released her grip, shaking and she hardened her resolve.
"I'm leaving here" she said outright, because there was no more time, it was now or never. Madame Gertie eyed her.
"Did he promise you that?" Madame scoffed. "Isn't that what Mike promised?" Michonne shut her eyes but Judith's whimpers and wracking sniffles strengthened her decisions more.
"I told you; I won't be here forever" Michonne met her gaze without shyness.
Madame Gertie looked back at Rick's keen and unwavering stare and she found herself laughing again. "You found yourself a dangerous man…" she observed. She's known that kind her whole life, this job gave her a standing that allowed her to play puppeteer with their wretched egos.
"I would be impressed if I wasn't so fucking pissed off" she cursed. "I came to tell you about your mother and you provoked me" she shook her head.
"I suggest you leave," Rick said.
Madame Gertie smiled. Sadistically and with a hasty mind that was consumed by nothing but the infuriating words of departure that her prize, her flower, her Michonne had seared on that growling and gnashing monster inside—she tested the strange man's resolve. Brandishing the knife she kept on her at all times and twisted, lunging, for Michonne when a ear splitting gunshot rang true and Madame Gertie was soon howling in pain.
Judith bawled anew and Michonne pressed her eyes shut, feeling a bit dizzy from the noise. When she opened her eyes she saw her house mother collapsed to the floor, the seeping liquid of her bright red blood painting the ground where she clutched her leg.
"Very dangerous indeed" Madame Gertie said through gritted teeth, her face a portrait of anguish.
Michonne looked at Rick who was now standing fairly close behind her, looming like a shadow with his chrome weapon still trained on the older woman who was trying hard not to scream. Madame Gertie groaned and moaned in pain, she looked helpless and Michonne looked on wondering why that instant satisfaction wasn't coming. Why that sick happiness wasn't consuming her only to realize that she would've been no different from the woman she was now looking down at. Instead, and maybe a bit ironic, fragmented thoughts of how Madame Gertie used to sing to her in the night came wandering forward. How she'd wash and twist her hair every month, how they'd walk amongst the garden as the older woman listened to her ramble about anything and everything—where was that woman? Was she ever real?
Their eyes met and she saw nothing, just that same twisted smile and preying stare. What has she been doing all these years? Pretending that there was anything more to their relationship than this woman wanting to control her. Wisteria was all she had known but at what cost? A stinging pain tunneled its way into her chest as she uselessly thought this was home until it wasn't, until it was nothing but a prison with no escape. Michonne folded her hands into fists, feeling that red hot more overwhelming than the crippling disappointment and hurt. She went to step forward when a strong, calloused hand gripped her hand.
"Now's our chance," Rick urged. "I hear commotion outside, we have to go"
Michonne watched as Madame Gertie tried to stop the bleeding, now seeming small and all the bit of the late forties she was. She looked frail and less daunting now that she was incapacitated and Michonne felt silly for letting this woman have such a hold on her this long. Her eyes fell to the front of her nightgown and saw a crisp white paper poking out. Without much thought she went up to the woman with Judith still clutching her and snatched it, twisting away when Madame tried to grab at her.
"Give it back" she sounded strained.
Michonne turned the opened envelope over and felt this wistful curiosity and nervous fluttering. Madeliene Hawthorne, It read on the back and Michonne caught those dark eyes again.
"Is this from my mother?" She questioned but Madame Hertie only scowled, reaching for it but Michonne backed away.
"Michonne" she bit out.
"We have to go" Rick's soft voice came back to her and she looked at him, his eyes relaying encouragement which Michonne was caught off guard by but knew he was right. He then reached over and took Judith from Michonne's arms and the young girl was abhorrent to the idea of leaving her. She protested with flailing limbs until she was forced to look into the bright eyes of Rick. The two looked at each other for a moment and she saw Rick's hand patting her back imperceptibly and Michonne wondered what the young girl saw in his eyes that she calmed down just enough.
"You won't escape me, Michonne. You'll always be mine, you should just kill me now" Madame Gertie's strained words were directed at her but her gaze was undoubtedly on Rick.
Rick's thumb seemed to brush against the gun in his hand but instead he turned to Michonne. "Get your bags, let's go"
Michonne gripped the envelope and turned towards the bed she never plans on seeing ever again. She retrieved her and Judith's bags and went back to the duo where Rick felt the need to wrap his warm hand gently around her wrist and pulled her toward the door.
"Wait!" The panicked switch of the older woman's tone was unexpected and disorienting for Michonne. She looked back as Rick herded them out of the room—she saw wild eyes.
"Michonne, get back here now!" She heard. "You need me!"
The hall was unsurprisingly scattered with other flowers and they all seemed horrified, confused and worried as they tried to piece together what was going on, their eyes landing on her. Michonne caught the eyes of Jessie who appeared scared and distrustful and then she saw Yumiko who looked every bit the elegant woman she couldn't have ever been, her eyes held indifference but understanding and in that brief moment Michonne felt weirdly seen.
"Michonne!" Madame Gertie yelled. "Michonne!" She kept calling and calling. Michonne hated that her heart stretched towards the older woman.
"Michonne! Get back here!" The trio rapidly descended quickly before police, she knew were alerted, arrived.
Michonne knew those screams would haunt her for a while once this place was behind her. She also knew she'd be followed by frustrating guilt, such was the contradiction of her feelings and the relationship they had. But she took a breath and looked at Judith who's head was surprisingly ticked into the neck of Rick, seeing her red rimmed eyes and her body wracking with sporadic sniffles and her mind cleared. This is what she had to do, this was the right thing and she was finally taking her life into her own hands.