We Always Find Each Other

Two days of captivity. Three days of running from the living and fighting off the dead. Now she was on her fourth day, alone, wondering if she would ever see her group again. Michonne tried to take comfort in knowing that at least they were still together. They had each other, even if they had to eventually move on without her.

She had no idea where they had taken her. All she knew was that she had ridden in the trunk of a car for an entire day before being taken into a camp. The men there had meant to rape her and then use her as a serving woman, as they had the other women in the camp.

Their mistake had been to underestimate her and just how capable she was with -- or without -- a sword. She’d killed her kidnappers. She’d spared the women, set them free. None of them had wanted to come with her to find her people. They had other family and friends they wanted to locate so she’d said goodbye and set out on her own.

She’d sat on the front steps of a house after that, her loot bag empty after an unsuccessful run, her heart aching for her people, Rick especially. She loved him but had never told him. 

Now she didn't know where she was. She didn't know which direction the kidnappers had taken her. She was lost and tempted to give in to self-pity. She’d been tempted to quit. Why bother fighting? Why not just lie down, right there, and let the next walker to come along take a bite? She could go into the house after that, lie down, and wait to turn.

Or she could open a vein. She could bleed out and turn.

Either way her struggle would be over. There would be no more days of hunger and thirst. There would be no more cold and lonely nights. No more fear. No more loss. It would just be over. If there was life after death then she would be reunited with her son, her family, her friends. If there wasn’t an afterlife then she would sink into blessed oblivion.

Win-win either way.

She’d ended up killing the next walker to approach. She left her veins closed. She lived. She kept going out of stubbornness and habit. Damn if hope wasn’t near impossible to kill despite its fragility.

One foot in front of the other. That was all she concerned herself with. She kept walking. She kept moving. She went on until she found herself surrounded by another writhing mass of rotted walkers. She drew her sword. She fought.

*~*~*

When Rick found Michonne his heart seemed to literally tear in two inside his chest. She lay there, unmoving, in the center of a group of fallen walkers. Most of them had head wounds but some had been beheaded. Those heads now had jaws that snapped eagerly when they sensed his presence.

Her eyes were closed. She lay perfectly still.

“No…no…” he whispered. He fell forward, his hands gripped the sun warmed grass.

She had gone out fighting but that was little comfort to Rick. He would have to put her down. He would have to end her and he wasn’t sure he could.

“Oh, no…”

He saw movement. He sat up and put his hand to his gun. God, why had he let her leave the camp to go on a solo run? Why hadn’t he insisted he go with her?

Even more importantly, why hadn’t he told her?

His gaze slid slowly up to her face. He prepared himself to look into dead, film-covered eyes. Instead he found they were clear. They were focused on him.

“Rick…” she said, her voice parched, before she passed out.

She was alive. He reached for her hand and felt her wrist. There was a pulse there. Weak but steady. Acting quickly he picked her up and slung her over his shoulder to carry her back to the car.

*~*~*

She wasn’t feverish when Rick carried her into the house he’d set up as base. He undressed her, pulling her dirty, blood-stained clothes from her body, and looked her over from head to toe. No scratches. No bites. She was severely dehydrated, however, and she needed something to eat.

He sat her up and managed to help her drink a few cups of water. After that he covered her in a blanket to help ward off the chill of the evening. He lay next to her for a while, feeling her heart beat under his thumb as he held her hand. He listened to her shallow breathing. The water got into her system and she began to come around.

“I thought you were a dream,” she said.“You found me.”

“I’m real. We always find each other,” he said. He kissed her brow. “I love you. I need you to hear me say it at least once.”

Michonne’s eyes slipped closed and she drifted into sleep again.

*~*~*

In the morning Rick came back from a hunt and grilled the rabbit he’d caught in the back yard. He came in to find Michonne sitting up in bed. She wore his blue shirt while her things soaked in a bucket by the window.

“You should have let me wash your clothes,” he admonished, though not too harshly.

The truth was she was naked and wearing only his shirt. Lori had liked to do that when she was in the mood. She’d known it would turn him on. Michonne was doing it simply because she needed something to wear while her clothes soaked and then dried. Still, she looked good.

“Here,” he said, giving her most of the meat, as well as a roll of stale crackers he’d brought with him from camp. He went to finish her clothes while she ate and watched him.

“We gonna talk about it?” she said.

He knew full well what she meant. “What, that I love you?”

She nodded.

“What is there to talk about?” he shrugged. “Except to ask if that bothers you.”

She shook her head. “No, it doesn’t bother me. I’m just…”

“You don’t feel the same way? That’s okay. You don’t have to. I just wanted you to know.”

That wasn’t the problem. The problem was fear. She was scared to love again. It seemed like every time she allowed herself to care for someone, whether it was platonic or romantic, this world ripped them from her. It was bad enough to be taken from her group, but thinking she would never see Rick again had been especially hard. It had hurt deeper than anyone else because she loved him to.

Now he’d actually said it. Now she knew he felt the same way and all she wanted to do was throw herself into his arms and never let go.

They finished breakfast. Though nights were cool the days were hot. She decided to put her clothes on wet just so they could get on their way home. Rick didn’t speak again. He didn’t press the issue. Instead he packed away their blanket and supplies and headed for the front door.

“Carl and the others are gonna be glad to see--”

Michonne pressed her lips to Rick’s, cutting off the chatter before it could start. She didn’t want the silence filled with words that didn’t mean anything.

“I love you too,” she said, and took his free hand. He nodded once, his beautifully full lips pulling up in a smile.

“Let’s go home,” he said, and led her down the steps toward the car. They would drive back to their camp. They would figure out where to go from there.