Just Keep Walking

One hundred and fifteen

When they'd been silent for several minutes, Rick finally spoke up again.
"What are you thinking now? Did he want us to stop fighting? The Saviours, just to surrender to Negan?"
"We could pull over. We could read what he wrote."
"Michonne. Not yet, not me." Rick sighed shakily.
"Did he write me one?" Mary asked in a whisper, and Michonne nodded.
"Look, here. Do you want to look at it later, or now?" Michonne said softly, showing Mary her letter, in an envelope with Carl's untidy scrawl on the front.
"Later." Mary mumbled, and Michonne nodded, "You can hang on to it. I don't wanna lose it."
Michonne nodded again, and as she went to put the letter back, she noticed another one, a strange, unsuspected one.
"Rick. He... Carl, he wrote a letter to Negan." Michonne breathed.
"I need to talk to Jadis." Rick said suddenly, ignoring his lover.
"What?"
"They had weapons, people, we can't just give that up."
"Why now?" Michonne sighed, "Rick, we have Mary."
"They went with me to the Sanctuary. The Saviours saw us there. They're gonna be a target too. We still need them. They're ours, not theirs."
"Fine." Michonne sighed softly.
"I just wanna... I want to go to Hilltop. I want Uncle Aaron and Uncle Jesus and Uncle Daryl and Rosie."
"I know, baby. I know. We're going." Michonne soothed, and Mary sighed shakily.
"I want Maggie." She breathed, barley believing what she was saying; Maggie had hurt her, upset her, and Mary was still angry at the woman, but when Mary lost her mother, Maggie and Glenn were the people who looked after her, who comforted her. Mary was desperate to see Maggie; she knew that she'd be able to help.

When they arrived at the junkyard, it was eerily quiet, and Rick cautiously walked in first, Mary walking next to Michonne, all of their weapons ready. As soon as they went through the door, rubble fell down over it, blocking the exit and trapping them.
Mary ran forwards, Michonne's hand tight and pulling her, making her stumble and fall into some paint on the floor.
"Damn it." Rick hissed, looking around.
"Blue." Mary mumbled, standing up with wet, blue paint on her scuffed knees and her already-blue hand.
"Come on." Michonne sighed, taking Glenn's jacket off her body before the paint could get it stained.
"Come on." Rick whispered, Walkers walking towards them. Mary stayed close to Michonne's side as they ran to safety, the two adults killing Walkers as they went.
"Come on!" Michonne shouted, finding a possible way out; climbing up the rubble. She went up first, then Rick helped Mary, following behind her in case she fell.
"Rick." A voice whispered suddenly, and they all turned their heads to see Jadis, sat on a pile of rubbish in a white silk nightgown.
"What happened here?" Michonne asked with a hint of annoyance.
"The Saviours."
"Well how do we get out?"
"Get out how you got in. These weren't heaps before. It was just trash. Laid out as far as the eye could see. I used to come here to find things to paint on. Metal sheets. Fabrics. And then after everything changed, I realised this whole place was a canvas but we were the paint, we could create something new, we could become something new. We did. This was our world apart from everyone else in every way."
"You did this. This is because of you." Rick snapped suddenly. He grabbed a part of an old car door, and wrapped some fabric around his hand before pulling at parts.
"What are you doing?"
"We're gonna run for it." Rick replied simply, moving on to make Michonne's shield. Michonne sighed quietly, then got a rag and wiped the wet paint off Mary, leaving her with blue stained knees and hands.
"We're running to where we came from, yeah? I'll carry you." Michonne said gently, putting her hand on Mary's cheek, and the girl nodded.
"Let me come with you, just until they're gone." Jadis begged suddenly, holding a chair as a shield.
"Nah," Rick snapped, giving Michonne the other car door, "I'm done with her games. She can't help us anyway. Come on."
"Daddy." Mary whined, but Michonne shushed her quietly, and she put her on her back.
"Baby, she'll be okay. Just let daddy breathe." Michonne soothed, but Mary just nestled her head into Michonne's neck.
They ran to the other side, forcing Walkers out of the way, occasionally shooting a few. When they finally got to the other side, Rick moved enough rubble away for Michonne and Mary to slide through.
"Wait, please just, just let me get out." Jadis' scared, broken voice begged, and Mary's face wrinkled up, then she froze as she heard another gunshot.
"Who did he shoot?" Mary asked on edge, as Rick came though the tunnel. "Daddy, who did you shoot?"
"Nothing." Rick said quickly, and Michonne felt sick; she feared he'd killed Jadis.
"Let's just get to the car." Michonne soothed to Mary, and they walked away in silence.
They carried on to drive as soon as they were all in the car, Mary sat in silence, until she dropped her bunny.
"Here, sunshine." Rick sighed breathlessly, picking up the toy and holding it out to his daughter.
Mary looked at him steely, then spoke up. "Did you kill her?"
"Mary."
"Did you kill her?!" Mary demanded, and Rick ignored her with a sigh. Mary repeated herself again, and Rick ignored her again.
"Rick." Michonne whispered, a plea in her voice.
"Hey! Rick! Did you kill her, Rick?!" Mary shouted, emphasising her father's name.
"Stop this!" Rick shouted suddenly, pulling over, and Mary froze. "Don't call me that. Don't. Hell, you don't want to call me daddy anymore, don't. Maybe I'm not a father anymore. Maybe I'm not a dad anymore, now I'm losing you and I've lost... But don't call me Rick like that."
"You are my daddy!" Mary sobbed suddenly, Rick's words killing her, "You are my daddy! So stop! Stop being mean! It's not my fault! You're still my daddy. Even though Carl's dead, you've still got me! You're still my daddy!"
Suddenly, Rick was sobbing, and he was holding Mary in his arms, inhaling her scent, crying hysterically into her hair.
"I'm so sorry, baby. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." Rick whimpered into her hair, Michonne's hand on his back. They stayed like that for a while, until Mary finally pulled away, and looked up at Rick, still expecting an answer.
"I shot above her head," Rick explained with a sigh, "I just wanted her gone. Look, I saw her, she made it. She ran into an empty alley just before I left. I didn't want her dead. I just wanted he gone."
"Feels like what Carl was talking about, what we should do. We have a choice." Michonne commented softly, and Rick sighed, running a hand trough his hair.
"I need a... I need a second." Rick mumbled, forcing himself to breathe in slowly.
"It's fine," Michonne soothed, pitting her hand on his knee, "it's fine."
Rick turned off the engine, and when he finally could breathe normally, he got up, leaving Mary in his seat.
"Stay with mommy, Moo." He muttered, then he left, taking a letter, a walkie talkie, and his gun with him.
"Are we going to Hilltop now? For sure?" Mary whispered shakily to Michonne, and the woman sighed.
"Yeah. Yeah, we are. You missin' Judy?"
"Yeah." Mary lied, but in all honesty, she had barely given a second thought to her younger sister.
"Oh, Moo."
"Will Judith remember Carl?" Mary asked suddenly, and Michonne froze.
"She..."
"She's not even two yet. I don't remember being two. I don't really remember much before the Walkers, and I had just turned four then. Will she remember him at all?"
"I... I don't know, baby. She might not remember him properly, but she'll never forget him. Because we'll tell her about him, and she has stories and pictures and she has us. She has you."
"But who do I have?" Mary whispered, her voice crackling.
"You have us." Michonne insisted, and Mary sighed, then people - her people, living people - rushed through her head. Rick, Michonne, Judith, Daryl, Rosita, Aaron, Jesus, Carol, Tara, Enid, Siddiq.
She was going to survive it, thanks to them.
She was going to survive.
But survival wasn't living; Carl taught her that.
Survival.
It was a tricky thing, and so many people survived but didn't live. And Carl had lived an amazing life, but in the end, he didn't get to survive.
Mary knew she'd survive, but she doubted she'd ever live again.