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Michonne was vigilant, pacing through the shadows, katana strapped to her back and within easy reach as burnt umber orbs scrutinized the surrounding area.
Rick hesitated before stepping out, never quite sure what to say to the woman who seemed to see right through to the heart of him. His weaknesses, his worries, his wounds somehow on full display for her discerning gaze.
And if she judged him for them, she never let him know it—providing far more grace and understanding than he deserved. That he had even considered turning her over to the Governor…
Rick’s stomach turned as he replayed the misstep in agonizing detail, throat burning with bile. Hard decisions had to be made, but he couldn’t lose his soul. Couldn’t let Carl and Judith lose their souls…what made them human…alive and real. He was responsible for making sure they kept those things. And for them to do that, he had to do that.
He’d made a mistake, one of many. He kept making mistakes and the group kept following him anyway. And once again Michonne had the grace—the utter audacity—to look at him and say she got it.
Even now, he wasn’t sure he trusted her. If he even liked her. But he knew he wanted to trust her. Wanted to like her. And that was something.
If she stayed.
The way she currently prowled about the darkness didn’t give him confidence she would. He cleared his throat to give her warning, though he knew she’d clocked his arrival the moment he was within shouting distance. Nothing got past her. “Glenn’s on watch,” he said. “You should get some rest.”
It had been a long day and night for them all, especially for her. “He’s still out there. And he’s not alone. He could come back.”
Philip. The Governor.
He nodded toward the tower. “Not tonight. And Glenn’s on watch.”
“I shoulda killed him.”
“I shoulda killed him,” Rick corrected. At least Michonne had tried. “We won’t make the same mistake again.”
“He’ll come back if we let him.” She stopped pacing to turn to him. A shiver raced down his spine as he stood there, soaking up her incredible stare. He didn’t dare analyze what that shiver meant. “I’m not gonna let him.”
“You’re hunting him,” he guessed, jaw clenched, heart racing. He didn’t like it. He didn’t know why he didn’t like it. Just that he didn’t.
“I have to.”
“Okay. Just make sure you come back.”
A small smile played about the corners of her full—and if he was being honest with himself, distracting--lips as she was undoubtedly reminded of all the times he’d wanted her gone. Things had certainly changed from those first few days when she’d shown up with formula and information on their missing people. Now he wanted her to stay. And he wanted her to know she could always come back if she didn’t. Had Andrea known that? That she could come back? She’d had more than one opportunity to return to them, could’ve left with them after Rick’s tense meeting with the Governor when Hershel had made it clear where she belonged. But she hadn’t acted then…and now it was too late. “I’m sorry about Andrea,” he said carefully. He needed to say it. Michonne was grieving her friend, whether she openly acknowledged it or not.
“You knew her better than I did.”
“I don’t think that’s true. I may have been with her longer, but I’m not sure I really knew her at all.”
Michonne managed a small nod, fighting back a sheen of tears, so hardened by this new world, she struggled with any softness. But she cared so much…maybe more than most. He’d seen her with Carl. Had watched her fight alongside his people, loyal to those who hadn’t earned it. Had been there as she cradled Andrea until the end, refusing to leave the woman though Andrea hadn’t done the same for her. “We kept each other alive out there. For a while it worked. And then it didn’t. It wasn’t enough for her.”
“She was right. In the end. We can’t do this on our own anymore.” Rick’s tone was steady, sure. “You found us. There’s a reason for that.”
Michonne took a deep breath. Then another. “I couldn’t make her see. I keep wondering…was there something I could have said? Could have done to make her change her mind? I don’t want to be mad at her…” she clenched her jaw. “You’re right. She wasn’t wrong. At least about that. I don’t think I want to do this alone anymore. But she tried that and now she’s gone.”
Andrea tried it with the wrong people. It was unnecessary to say it. Michonne more than anyone already knew that. Besides, even with the right people, survival wasn’t a given. Dale could attest to that. Jim. Amy. Gawd…Lori. “She wanted to try to save everyone.”
“I guess there’s beauty in that. For all the good it did her.”
“Go rest Michonne. Let me keep watch for a while.” He didn’t mention Glenn again, knowing the fight and Andrea’s loss was still too fresh for her. She needed more spatial awareness than someone stationed in the tower could give. He couldn’t do much for her…but he could do this. Could give her the same vigilance she so freely gave to him. “I got it.”
He felt a small trill of victory when she hesitantly nodded. She trusted him. It meant something. It meant a lot. “Yeah, okay.” He ducked his head, unable to meet her gaze as she passed. It was odd…the way he found himself staring at her when she wasn’t paying attention…the way he sometimes could barely look at her when she was. He didn’t know what to make of it. She stopped but didn’t turn around. “It’s a crazy world we live in now. When a man can’t even just be a father to his kids…” Rick’s heart lurched. Hershel the one there when Carl shot to kill without hesitation. Carol and Beth more prominent parental fixtures for Judith than Rick. Not being able to father his kids the way he needed and wanted—that was the price he paid to ensure their survival. “Can’t enjoy watching them grow up, learn new things…just be kids.”
It was his turn to stave off tears. That this stranger could perceive so much of what both tortured and propelled him. “I said it before, but maybe you need to hear it again. I don’t blame you for considering anything that might give them a better chance.”
He took a deep, shuddering breath as she disappeared into the night, leaving him alone with his thoughts as he assumed patrol. One thought pushed past the rest, taking up residence at the forefront.
He really hoped she stayed.