so everyone thinks that kara’s this sweet kid who never uses language stronger than ‘hell’ and ‘goddamn’, but when she’s really frustrated she sometimes goes off in kryptonese and no one knows what she’s saying, until one day clark and astra are there, and alex asks them to translate, and clark just goes bright red and refuses because, honestly, it’s filthy and some of the anatomy involved doesn’t really translate, and astra asks him why he’s looking at her, because she didn’t teach kara how to say that (even though she totally did)
I’ve mentioned this before, but when he took her out with Carl on their first run together, it wasn’t just to keep her and Merle apart while he wasn’t there. No. It was also a test to see how she would work with him, and his son. It was a calculated move on Rick’s part. Really, he was testing them both out in the field, and how they would work as a unit.
Rick purposely chooses her.
He chooses to let her in those gates; he chooses to bring her to Woodbury; he chooses to let her watch over Glenn [even though she did totally ditch them]; he chooses to bring her back to be patched up, and then he chooses for her to stay. There was a chance where he thought the Governor could be a man of his word (we all know he wasn’t, but still, there was a chance). Even though he considers turning her over, he ultimately chooses keeping her and going to war over sending her to be Philip’s prisoner.
“I can’t. I won’t.”
And then he turns away [from Hershel], because as far as Rick is concerned, there’s nothing left to discuss. His mind is made up. Philip wanted Michonne, but he didn’t know that Rick wanted Michonne, too.
That “something else” and why “this is different”–that’s the thing that has gone unnamed. He recognized her, even though he couldn’t put a word to it. She’s his soulmate. Every moment since then has gone on to prove that–they get each other, a feeling inside they can’t name or explain that causes them to stick together, their intensity with one another, the acceptance of the other’s flaws (talking to dead people, rough exteriors), adopting their own, private language, fighting the world together, looking at each other straight in the eye, baring their souls, not hiding, and their co-parenting relationship with Carl.
“One drink. Two drinks– six and a half,” The
blonde rattled off, counting the empty bottles. Only there was
actually eight. Every time things went awry, Jasmin got drunk. Things
with Lauren were up in the air which she had no one to blame other
than herself. Granted, she did though– she totally blamed her former
best friend. “Fucking Lola,” she groaned, waving the bartender
down for another drink.