Just Keep Walking

Two

"Mishy?" Mary asked quietly as they walked. The sun was beating down on them harshly, and even though it was November, Michonne was filled with fatigue from the Georgian heat, and from caring for Mary.
"Hey. You're awake." Michonne smiled softly.
"I want daddy." She sobbed suddenly.
"I know," Michonne nodded, "I know you do. I... I want your daddy too. But we've just got to be okay without him for now. Until we find him."
"It hurts." Mary cried, her face contorted in pain.
"I know. I know, sweetie. Go back to sleep. Then it won't hurt, okay?"
"I want daddy! I can't sleep without him."
"Okay, when you can't sleep what does your daddy do to get you to sleep?" Michonne asked tiredly.
"He holds my hand and sings."
Michonne sighed. "Okay. Okay. I used to sing this to... To someone I used to know." Then woman sighed, before singing a soft lullaby until the sleep took Mary.

Michonne was ready to give up. They'd been walking aimlessly for almost the whole day, and Michonne knew that Mary was growing weaker. Then she saw a sign of hope.
A can of chocolate pudding, empty on the road. Michonne bent down, and saw remains of fresh pudding on the rim. It had only just been opened. Intrigued, Michonne went into the house, knocking on the wall. No Walkers came out.
She slowly walked up the steps, and saw writing on one of the doors.
Walker inside. Got my shoe, didn't get me.
"Hey. Mary. This... I think this is your Carl's handwriting." Michonne smiled softly, but Mary was still passed out. Michonne went into one of the other rooms, and laid Mary down on the floor, no bed in the room, then went into the room with the writing on the door, and killed the Walker. Before she left, she grabbed the shoe, and nodded with a smile. It was Carl's, or the exact same as his shoes.
She went back to Mary's room, and took off her dungarees, then her bandage. The wound was covered in blood around the stitches, but most of it was dry. Michonne sighed, then cleaned it again, and got two more cotton pads from the backpack, so there was only one more left in the pack of five. She put them on each of the wounds, then wound them with the same bandage.
"Hurts." Mary cried groggily, her dark eyes opening.
"I know. We're safe here, for now. This house is clear. Your brother was here, Mary. We're gonna sleep here, and find him in the morning. Okay? Okay?"
"Okay." Mary nodded, holding her hand up and playing with one of Michonne's dreadlocks. "Cuddle."
Michonne sighed, and sat down with her back to the wall. Mary crawled over to her, and snuggled into Michonne's chest, making sure not to bang her hip on Michonne's leg.
"I'm scared." She mumbled, and Michonne stroked the back of her head. 
"I know. I know."
"Was you a mommy?" Mary asked, in so much pain she was almost delirious.
Michonne just sighed.
"I think you was." Mary mumbled.
"I had a little boy. He'd be your age." Michonne whispered shakily.
"Is he in Heaven?"
"Yeah. With his daddy."
"With my mommy," Mary mumbled, "and maybe all our friends."
"Yeah." Michonne nodded, a tear falling down her cheek.
"I'm gonna die." Mary cried softly.
"No you're not." She said quickly.
"Yes."
"No. You're not."
"It's okay," she whispered groggily, "I miss mommy anyway."

"Okay, let's get you changed." Michonne sighed that morning, after making Mary drink a little water, and eat some cold baked beans. "Can you stand up?"
"No." Mary whimpered, and Michonne nodded softly, then took off Mary's damp dungarees and underwear, and put her in fresh pants and leggings.
"Don't leave them." Mary cried, looking at the dungarees. "If we find daddy today, then we can wash them there."
"Okay." Michonne sighed, stuffing them into the bag. "Come on then. Let's go."
"Mishy it hurts." Mary cried again.
"I know, but it's going to be okay. We're going to go find your daddy today. I promise."
Mary looked at her, crying, her heart broken. She just wanted to find her father, her brother, Maggie, Glenn, Daryl. She just wanted a sense of normality.
"I know it's hard. I know. Now come on, you're a big brave girl. We're gonna be with your daddy very very soon."
"Yeah." Mary cried softly. She let Michonne pick her up, and carry her and the bag out of the house. They walked up the street, and suddenly Michonne stopped.
"Hear that?" Michonne whispered, and Mary shook her head groggily, struggling to be awake for so long. "I think that's your Carl and daddy in there."
She walked up to the house, and knocked on the door. Seconds later, they heard a piece of furniture moved, the door was opened.
"Michonne!" Carl grinned, laughing.
"It's not just me." Michonne smiled, turning around, and Carl began to sob, hugging Mary and kissing her forehead, but Rick fell to the floor, his hands shaking.
"No. Not again." He whispered shakily.
"Rick."
"No. She was a Walker. No. No, it's happening again. It happened with Lori, and it's happening again." He sobbed.
"Rick. She's real." Michonne smiled softly, "Carl, help get her down. Careful. Rick. She's unconscious and she's hurt real bad, buts she's real. I promise."
Rick got up slowly, and walked to Carl, who was stroking Mary's head while sobbing. Then he got Mary down, and held her tightly, falling to the sofa while sobbing, never wanting to let go.
"She got shot, and she won't eat or drink properly. She's in and out of consciousness. But she's gonna be okay."
"Thank you," Rick sobbed, looking up at Michonne, "thank you so much. You saved my little girl. You saved her."
Michonne just smiled softly at the reunited family, only missing one person.
"Daddy?" Mary cried softly, opening her eyes.
"I'm here," Rick cried, "I'm here, baby. I'm here."
"Carl?" She sobbed.
"I'm here. I'm here." Carl grinned, holding her hand. Mary looked up at Carl, his face shaky and scared and thankful and happy. He was wearing his hat again, and had Mary's bunny teddy looped onto his belt. He was there. That's all that mattered.
"It hurts." Mary whimpered, her face covered with pain.
"Okay. Okay. We found some aspirin. I guess that'll help."
"No," Michonne replied, "kids under sixteen shouldn't have it. I've been giving her this."
"Okay. Okay, thanks." Rick nodded, taking the bottle of medicine off her, and holding it to Mary's lips. "You're gonna be okay, sweetie. You're gonna be just fine now."
Mary nodded slowly, then looked up at Rick, sitting up properly, then wincing in pain, and laid back down onto Rick's chest. "Where's Judy?"
Carl's eyes closed, a tear falling out of his eye, and Rick took a shaky breath in. "Judith didn't make it, honey. She's... She's with mommy now." Rick explained tearfully.
"She died?" Mary whispered, beginning to cry even more.
At this point, Carl walked away, and Michonne followed him. "Yeah."
"Glenny? Maggie? Uncle Daryl?"
Rick sighed, then decided to be honest. "I don't know about Daryl. But Glenn got out on the bus, and I'm pretty sure Maggie did too."
"Tommy died."
Rick sighed, and buried his head in Mary's hair. "I'm so sorry. I know you were good friends."
"I promised him I'd protect him. If we ever got hurt." Mary sobbed.
"I know. It's horrible. I'm so sorry."
But Mary just cried. Cried for her little sister, her friend, the rest of her family.

"Seriously, Rick, I'll stay down here on watch. Sleep." Michonne said firmly.
"You're sure?"
"Yes. Seriously." Michonne laughed. Rick smiled at her, and put Mary down on one end of the couch, the child asleep.
"I appreciate it. So much. I couldn't ever thank you enough." Rick said gently, sitting down next to her.
"Hey, do you think I would have left her?" Michonne asked softly, "Your kids are my favourite people. Being all emotional now."
"You saved her life, Michonne. I just can't believe that I didn't see her. That... That..."
"Hey. It's not your fault." Michonne said firmly, and Rick nodded, then stroked Mary's forearm.
"I'm eternally grateful. Really, I am. She'd have died, Michonne. She'd have died, and become a Walker, and just wondered around for years, and," Rick cried softly, "and that's the one thing I promised her and Carl would never happen."
Michonne put a gentle hand on Rick's shoulder. "I couldn't let another kid die."
Rick smiled at her softly. "I don't know much about you Michonne. But... You lost someone. Was it your child?"
"His name was Andre. And he was Mary's age. Would be Mary's age." Michonne whispered, a tear falling down her cheek.
"I'm so sorry. Truly. I never knew."
"I never told anyone. Apart from Mary. We talked about it last night, but I doubt she remembers."
"Losing a child is the worst thing imaginable." Rick nodded slowly, and Michonne nodded back.
"Go put her to bed," she smiled softly, "and you go to bed as well."
"Thank you." Rick smiled, getting up and picking up Mary, limping up the stairs. He laid on the bed, Mary next to him, and fell asleep, holding her close, scared he would lose her again.