One

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Michonne looked at the prison, the place that she had called home. The place where her friends - her family - had lived. Where the little girl, just a bit older than her dead son, had lived. The one thing she wanted was for the Grimes family to be safe. Carl was an amazing kid, and she didn't want anymore kids to die. Mary just reminded her of her son, Andre. She didn't want her to die as well.
The woman jumped behind some barriers, and got some rope, wrapping it around the necks of two Walkers, then she cut out their mouthes and their arms. She was invisible again. Alone again.
As she began to walk, she saw Hershel's head, rasping and opening its mouth, his blue eyes staring at her. She put her katana through the side of his- it's - head, and then gently removed the sword. She looked over at the prison one last time, then couldn't stop looking. There was a tiny child who stood up, then fell down. It was the right height to be Mary.
Michonne couldn't ignore it, even though she knew she was wrong. If that's child even was Mary, Mary wouldn't be laid there alone, bleeding out.
But she couldn't take the chance.
She walked over to the prison, to the tiny child, and she began to cry softly when she saw Mary. Saw the lifeless child. She looked still, gentle, at peace. Michonne wanted her to stay that way. Mary Grimes was not turning.
"I'm so sorry." Michonne cried softly, kissing her forehead. Then as she raised her knife to the base of Mary's skull, she stopped. She saw Mary's finger move, then her lips. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you." Michonne sobbed, looking at Mary with a broken heart.
"Daddy." Mary croaked, and Michonne's jaw dropped.
"I though you was gone."
"It hurts." Mary sobbed suddenly. Michonne looked at the child and suddenly felt panicked. Her dress was covered in blood.
"I'm just gonna have a look." Michonne whispered, lifting up Mary's dress, to see a gunshot near her hip, narrowly missing the bone, near where, Michonne guessed, her ovary was. The woman turned Mary over, then back again, and smiled softly. "There's an exit wound. This is gonna be okay, when you stop bleeding. Didn't hit anything that you really need."
"It hurts." Mary cried hysterically. "Come on Sweetie. We gotta go." Michonne whispered softly, picking her up.
"No! Daddy and Carl and Judy." Mary sobbed.
"We can't stay here. They're safe. I promise you, we'll find them."
"How will we get anywhere?"
Michonne sighed, knowing she couldn't lead two Walkers and look after Mary, then went into one of the cells, pulling Mary onto the bed, and grabbed a sheet. Then she cut a hole for her head, and gutted a Walker, spreading its guts over it.
Then she got another strip of fabric, and picked Mary up, then tied it around Marys waist, and herself, then again, over Mary's chest and herself, so she could run and fight without holding Mary the whole time.
Then Michonne left everything the pair knew behind, Mary in and out of continuousness.

"Mishy." Mary cried as she woke up.
"I know, sweetie. I know. We're gonna stop as soon as we can." Michonne soothed, pitting her hand backwards and letting Mary cling onto it.
"I want daddy. And Carl. Maggie and Glenny and Uncle Daryl." She sobbed, "I want Nemo and Maggie-Rick and Tommy."
The last three people, Michonne could account for. She'd seen Tommy on the floor, bites covering him, and a bullet through his head. The horse and chicken had been devoured.
"They're all fine," Michonne lied, "we're gonna find them soon."
"Mishy, I want daddy."
"I know. We're gonna find him. I promise." She whispered, stopping in her steps. On the mud road they had reached, she saw two sets of fresh footsteps. An adult, and a child.
"What is it?" Mary mumbled, lifting up the cover. "Are they daddy and Carl's shoes?"
"I think so." Michonne nodded slowly,
thinking about the possible outcomes. If she went into the forest, they had cover, could hunt, and there would be less Walkers. But if they followed the road, they might find a house, a car, or Rick and Carl.
She knew what she had to do.

Michonne kept walking along the muddy road.

That night they slept in a car, a Walker tied outside, missing it's mouth and arms, and while Mary slept, Michonne got to work on Mary's bullet wound. She wiped it clean, then poured some cleaner onto it, making Mary's tiny body flinch, but she didn't wake up. She was in too much pain, and too hungry and dehydrated, to find the energy to wake up.
Then Michonne did what she knew would be the worst. She grabbed a needle, and started to stitch up the hole by Mary hip. When she started, Mary began to scream, but after a few seconds, she passed out in pain.
Getting two soft cotton pads, Michonne put one on the entrance wound, and another on the the exit, then wound a long bandage around her whole lower body, holding it in place.
Then Michonne slept, but not for long. Mary woke up sobbing, not even an hour later.
"It hurts!" She wailed, her body sweaty and pale.
"I know. I know." Michonne soothed, teaching over and holding her hand.
"It hurts." Mary sobbed again.
"Okay. Okay, look, here, I found this medicine. It won't do much, but it might help." Michonne nodded, getting a small bottle over the counter pain medicine. She didn't know the dosage for a five year old, and didn't have anything to measure it with anyway, so she help it up to Mary's lips and let her have a small swig, then passed her a bottle of water. Mary drank a little, then coughed, and laid her head back down.
"Where'd my bunny go?" Mary mumbled slowly, "And Carl's hat?"
"I don't know." Michonne replied, sitting back and closing her eyes. "Just go to sleep, okay?"
"Okay." Mary cried, not needing any real persuasion. She slept until morning, but not peacefully.
When Michonne woke up in the morning, she gently woke Mary up. "Mary, I gotta go get some more water. Okay? You stay here. Just lay down, okay? I'll leave the Walkers outside, so nothing will get you, and you can have my knife. You'll be fine. Just stay put."
"Don't go." Mary cried groggily.
"I gotta. You'll be fine. Just go back to sleep." Michonne assured, before leaving. She walked for ten minutes, until she came across a shop, which she went into, finding a few bottles of water, a can of beans, and a box of half stale Pringles. As an after thought, she found some children's clothes, and a smile played on her lips, picking up a pair of dungarees, as she knew Mary would love them. Next she picked up a shirt, two pairs of leggings, and some underwear, then a pair of trainers, guessing Mary's size. She knew Mary had wet herself, and figured she would again.
After putting the clothes, food, and water in a backpack, Michonne walked back to the car. She woke Mary up again, and got her changed, the child too weak to do it herself, then put the bag on Mary's shoulders, put Mary's on her back, and tied her onto herself, then covering herself with the gut-covered cloth.
Michonne left Mary's blood covered dress in the car, but as they left, she scratched into the car:
Rick. Mary and Michonne are alive. Trying to find you. Going this way.
"Come on," Michonne whispered to the now unconscious child, "let's go find your daddy."

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