entrancelogs | (no subject)

Who: Michonne + You
Where: The bar
When: Feb. 13th
Rating: Let's start at PG-13 for light cussing and we can move it up from there if we need to
Summary: Carl was here. Now he's gone. Quick as that. (prose or brackets is fine, will match!)
The Story:

[She goes to the bar at eleven in the morning after spending the beginning of the morning being as sure as she can that Carl really is gone. No trace of him, no sign that he was even here for a couple weeks.

Weeks.

Not months, not some good length of time.

Weeks. Just long enough for her to think it'd be nice to have some kind of get together at her place to introduce him to people, rather than drag him around the mansion. Just long enough for her to think others might show up, give her a little bit of hope. In all honesty, she should have known better. That shit was too good to be true, and she's learned in the past few years, good things never last. Not Andrea, not the prison, not Alexandria.

So, she's at the bar, and she realizes she has no one to tell about this disappearance because she didn't get to say anything to anyone about him when he was here. She was selfish with him so that she could enjoy it, something that was just hers for a while, her own happiness, and now there's no one else who knows what she's drinking herself into oblivion for. Except Regina; she realizes it around four shots in. During the last event, she pointed him out, proud that he was there, that she could finally say she had someone from home. Dragging out her messenger, she sends a quick text to Regina (Not too early for tequila.) She doesn't want to say outright that Carl is gone so she leaves it at that. Maybe it is too early for this, maybe she's with her kid, her family. All of her family.]

Goddammit.

[Her single utterance is muttered to no one in particular before she takes another shot, then just takes a bottle of whiskey, sitting hunched over the bar, her entire body rigid, jaw clenched. She knows she'll never go back to the 'fuck people' mentality and isolate herself, there are still too many in the mansion who do care - she can admit that. But Carl's gone, her family, and she's pissed as hell at Wonderland today.]

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[She doesn’t know if it makes her feel better or worse to know that this happens to others. Better because she isn’t alone, worse because none of them probably came to the bar before noon and got drunk while feeling sorry for themselves. Today, she doesn’t care. Tomorrow, she might feel like an ass.

At his question, she closes her eyes and shrugs her shoulders a little.]

He’s from before me. He has what I came from to look forward to. A walk wearing literal blood and guts through a zombie parade. So. We’ll see.

[She uses ‘zombie’ here because more people use it than walker or biter, and everyone seems to know what ‘zombie’ means.]

[ Actually, Wanda had come to the bar to be miserable with Steve shortly after Pietro disappeared. It hadn't been before noon, but nonetheless, everyone deserves at least a day or two to feel sorry for themselves when something like this happens.

Michonne's answer about this kid's chances doesn't exactly inspire much confidence, but then again...

Steve looks to her, open and matter-of-fact. ] That means that he has you looking out for him, right? If that's the case, then I don't think we have anything to worry about.

[ She's already lost one child. Steve doesn't think that she would let it happen again -- it would be over her dead body, anyway. ]

I hope I’m enough. An’ I hope...he knows I’d do anything for him.

[She has no idea if he knows or not, if he feels as close to her as she does to him. If Rick knows, if Judith does. She loves them, all of them, whatever that means.]

Maybe he’ll come back. Maybe they all will. Guess I’ll just have to see.

[Until the fresh wound heals, she has no idea how long to hope for that when he was here and gone in the blink of an eye. So, she tips her bottle back and takes a few deep swallows before dragging a hand down her face.]

[ Steve observes the pain in Michonne's face. He can almost see the layers of it, tragedy after tragedy piling up and you get to a point where you ask yourself how much you can take. Neither of them have buckled completely under any of it, though, and it's conversations like these that will help them keep going. ]

If he comes back... or anyone else that you know from home, you should make sure that you tell them how much you care.

[ It might not be the easiest thing to say, to open herself up like that, but she'll end up regretting it otherwise. Steve may have a lot that he regrets, but at least he was always honest and upfront with Bucky in what he said. ]

I should. I should have. [She’s realized it belatedly.] We all get a little afraid to be attached. We went a stretch where we lost almost a person a week for a couple months. You just...you stop saying...things.

[But maybe that was a reason to say things. Maybe that was a reason to stop assuming people knew.]

If they ever show up again, first thing: they’ll know.

[After her declaration, she actually pushes the bottle of booze away, trying to push herself back into the person she normally is.]

[ That's the point that Steve would make: if you could lose someone at any moment, then that's even more reason to make sure that they're aware of how you feel about them. Then again, that's a lesson that could probably be applied even here in Wonderland he doesn't think that any of them say enough.

Still, he's pretty sure that Michonne's got the idea in her head now, so he won't belabor the point when she's already beating herself up for it.

When she pushes the bottle away, Steve takes a look around them and then shrugs. ]

You wanna get outta here? A place like this is only gonna help for so long. [ It's like putting a band-aid on a gushing wound. There are probably better places they could go. ]

[Taking a heavy breath, she tries to decide how clear her head is, then figures if she can think logically about it, she’s probably (mostly) fine. So, she nods and pushes back from the bar to stand.]

Yeah. Or if you wanted to stay, don’t leave on my account. I think I’m good.

[But she likes the offer, and wouldn’t hate the company, even if they never say another word until ‘goodnight.’]

No, I was just here looking for someone.

[ Since there's still no sign of Cami and since Michonne needs a friend right now, Steve doesn't hesitate in moving to the bar's exit and out into the hall.

He turns toward Michonne, hands buried in his pockets. ]

Want some fresh air? Or there's the movie theater, if you just want to get your mind off of everything for a while.

[Michonne blinks once or twice as she looks at Steve.]

I’ve been here...well. A while. I had no clue there was a movie theater. Where is it?

[This also serves as her answer because there’s a movie theater.]

[ That baffled look actually draws a brief laugh out of Steve. ]

There's another sign that you need to get out more, Michonne.

[ Is he being too friendly? Then again, she probably needs that, Steve just doesn't want to be presumptuous. ]

It's just a floor down, I'll show you.

[ With that, he heads for the stairs. ]

[She had no idea how much she stuck to doing her own thing, not branching out, ignoring what didn't seem important enough to be on her radar. Which means he's absolutely right, so she follows him, katana on her back.]

Thanks. For this. For the other times you've...

[For the times he's just talked to her. She's not great at this though.]

Thank you.

[ It wouldn't take someone trained in psychology to tell that Michonne isn't used to expressing herself like this. Even something as simple as a thank you can be hard for people, so Steve doesn't take her words lightly.

He looks over his shoulder at her as he moves down the stairs, hand sliding over the banister. ]

Are you kidding? I'm the one who should be thanking you.

[Michonne's eyes narrow in confusion at his words as they walk down, holding onto the hilt of her katana so it stays steady on her back.]

Thank me for what, exactly?

[ Steve had a feeling that Michonne might ask that. While some might claim that he's staying hung up on this one subject for too long, it's impossible for him forget. (He doesn't want to forget.) ]

For giving me a second chance. To show you that I wasn't the guy that event turned me into.

I've been on the other end of that chance before. Glad I could pay it back.

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