Please hold my hand || Daryl Dixon

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Running. She has always been fast, that's why she joined the cross country team when she was in Highschool. But back then she was running to chase the high of a win for her team, now she's running for her life and the child in her womb.

Nina continues to push herself, her lungs burn with the demand for rest, her legs wobbling with every leap where she was afraid eventually one of these times they would go limp and she would be dead people food. Short gasps of air fall upon her chest and brush her skin with what would be the only cool breeze she'd get during the day. Ugh, god, why'd it have to be so hot? Or was that just her body being worked up to a sweat for so long?

Cruel is what the day had treated Nina with in the little amount of time the sun has shone down on the land. Despite being unable to tell the difference at the moment, physical and emotional pain clashed together, all of it coursing in and around her to both motivate and tear her down.

For the past two months or so she had been with who Nina likes to call her platonic soulmate.

Nina's eyes widen comedically and stiffens, not daring to move as the 'whoosh' of air brushes past her face when the mystery woman's sword slices it's head clean off.

Only when the dead imposter has fallen to the floor is when the woman gets to see Nina's pregnant protruding stomach.

And Nina is able to see the two dead ones on chains behind the woman.

The woman fights a wince at the still fresh wound that is the memory of her son. She never thought she'd see another baby as the world apocalyptically ended.

Nina watches as the woman glances up from her belly, an understanding in the woman's dark eyes before she sheathes her sword. "Thank you," Nina grabs a chocolate chip granola bar from her back pocket and hands it to the woman in an act of gratitude.

The corner of the woman's lips twitch as she accepted the wrapped food, dropping her hand back to her side.

"Nina." Nina offers a smile, greeting herself like the olden days.

"Michonne." Michonne peeped, her eyes boring into Nina's.

Nina is forced to break the visual contact, rolling her eyes when the grumbles of the dead bump into the gas station door, not having nearly enough energy to deal with them. Nina motions Michonne to follow, and she does, before hurrying out the back bathroom door.

Nina drags her metal bat beside her, leading her new friend to her car. Michonne stares quizzically at the pregnant woman when she pops down in the passenger seat.

Nina notices this, snickering while shrugging her shoulders, "I call shotgun."

Michonne purses her lips in attempt to stop a smile, pushing her two 'pets' in the back before sliding into the drivers side.

Michonne and Nina got closer than Nina had ever gotten to someone, crossing the line of strangers to fast friends in what seemed like no time. Despite all of her attempts, Nina has never had a proper friend, but Michonne changed that quickly.

Michonne was fond of how Nina didn't question when the katana-wielding woman clearly sent longing gazes to nothing at the mention of children, and how she never asked about the dead people she had with her. She enjoyed the Kenyon woman's presence and her humour, the almost innocent aura that surrounded and enclosed her, rubbing off on herself and therefore making her overall that much more pleasant.

And Nina fastly grew to be enthusiastic at how Michonne was so fiercely passionate of protecting her and what would soon to be a source of un ending dead ones. Nina overall fastened the bond between herself and the devoted woman, everything about her drew Nina closer in and tangled their friendship further. Michonne was a great person and Nina wish their time hadn't come to an end so quickly.