[She doesn’t look over at Steve or even acknowledge him for a solid minute, trying to figure out what she’ll even say. They’ve talked a lot about this place and what it means to have people even if yours leave. And yet, here she is, getting drunk before noon because of someone leaving. Her surrogate kid who might as well be hers for all the shit they’ve gone through together.

Dragging a hand down her face, Michonne finally looks at Steve.]

My kid was here. Not...he’s mine, but he’s not mine. Just...mine. [Well, the tequila and whiskey combo is working wonders for her, here.]

But I woke up and he’s gone. Two...three weeks. That’s all it was. Now he’s just gone. Why bother? The hell was the point?